Chapter Seventy-Seven: A Win-Win Situation

“Jun, although I’d never take advantage of you, when it comes to business, even brothers must keep accounts clear. For your studio, let’s split it eighty-twenty—you keep eighty percent, the company only takes twenty. But the account needs to be registered under the company, because that involves some strategic partnerships. You know what I mean. You released a video recently, didn’t you? I watched it—the feedback was good and it’s positive content, in line with DY’s values. Once company matters are settled, we need to seize the momentum and push forward.”

“One more thing, I want to hire you back with one percent of the company’s shares. After all, Refraction is your creation; it’s only right that you manage it. As for buying your company, that’s a small matter—we can handle that privately, just moving money from one hand to the other.”

“It’s not that I want to wash my hands of everything; I’m just too busy. As soon as I finish talking with you, I need to meet with Xiao Yun—she’ll be joining our company as well. And soon I’ll be joining a production team. You know the ‘Original Music Alliance’ program on Penguin Video? The deal’s done. I’ll be there to shoot later this month.”

“You know me—now that I have you and Xiao Yun on board, if I bring a few more musicians from the industry, think about it: you’ll be managing people from the entertainment circle. Doesn’t that get you fired up?”

“Why are you scratching your head? Come on, Jun, pull yourself together! I haven’t seen you for just a few days and you’re already getting muddled. How are we supposed to build something like this?”

...

Tang Zhichu’s rapid-fire output left not only Huang Zejun dazed, but even Luo Jia found herself shaking her head, amused.

She understood perfectly well—this was an attempt to acquire someone else’s company, along with the owner’s account, without spending a dime.

No, wait, there’s more—he’s offering a single percent of shares as a return offer.

And what did Tang Zhichu contribute? Just his glib tongue.

Luo Jia prided herself on her professionalism, but couldn’t help thinking she was too soft-hearted.

But could this really work? It was all just pie in the sky. The other party wasn’t an idiot—he was, after all, the head of a mid-tier DY influencer company.

And as for recruiting a few musicians from the entertainment world—what, does he think he owns the industry? Even if he did lure them in, would Tang Zhichu actually bring those musicians into a web celebrity company? Naïve.

Huang Zejun finally lowered his hand from his head and looked at Tang Zhichu, asking seriously, “Are you telling the truth?”

Tang Zhichu nodded. “Of course. We’ve known each other for a while, haven’t we? Have I ever lied? I wasn’t even planning to introduce Miss Luo to you, but since we’re all in the same boat now, we need to work together. That’s why I’m being upfront with you. In the future, you’ll inevitably have to deal with Miss Luo as well.”

Huang Zejun nodded, while Luo Jia stared in disbelief—was it really that simple?

“Indeed, among the people I know, you’re definitely one of the most low-key. I had no idea you even knew President Su,” Huang Zejun said, looking thoughtful.

From his perspective, he hadn’t caught every word Tang Zhichu said, but a few things stood out—strategic partnership—with whom? It had to be with DY’s official platform! If DY itself was involved, it made sense that the account couldn’t remain independent. He understood.

And ‘Original Music Alliance’ was a major project. Ordinary musicians from the entertainment industry couldn’t get in—you needed real talent. That was a true commercial music show, and he’d heard they did things on a grand scale.

Bringing in a few musicians from the entertainment world—if someone else said it, Huang Zejun wouldn’t believe a word, but if Tang Zhichu said it, it carried weight. At the very least, he himself trusted him.

That was an important condition, and Huang Zejun knew he wasn’t stupid.

Tang Zhichu saw that Huang Zejun seemed to have accepted, so he pressed his advantage: “Jun, any objections? If you have any, just say so. No need to stand on ceremony.”

Huang Zejun shook his head. “I trust you.”

“So how much is the company worth to me? Let’s keep things transparent, even between brothers.”

Huang Zejun stood up, glanced at Luo Jia, and thought to himself that his earlier performance probably wasn’t great—mainly because Tang had caught him off guard, not giving him a heads-up. But he still felt Tang Zhichu was trustworthy. He was getting eighty percent from the studio—he only split fifty-fifty with his other influencers.

In the future, with more dealings with the official platform, he couldn’t afford to be looked down upon.

He cleared his throat and, feigning nonchalance, patted Tang Zhichu on the shoulder. “Tang, you’re making it sound too formal. That’s all small change. Just a token will do. You go ahead and fight your battles—if anything goes wrong, you can count on me!”

Tang Zhichu gave Huang Zejun a hug. “Old Huang, I believe in you.”

“Pfft...” Luo Jia, who had been drinking water, nearly spat it out.

Tang Zhichu and Huang Zejun looked over.

Luo Jia spread her hands. “No... nothing. I’m just happy for you two. Your company is bound for greatness!”

Neither Huang Zejun nor Tang Zhichu cared for Luo Jia’s slightly sardonic tone—they both figured, what would a young woman understand about this?

Next came the formalities, which Tang Zhichu asked Luo Jia to help handle.

To Huang Zejun, this made things feel even more secure.

They stayed at Refraction Culture until the afternoon. After asking Huang Zejun to help Luo Jia settle in, Tang Zhichu finally prepared to leave.

In the car, Tang Zhichu opened WeChat and found Zhou Yun’s chat.

“Have you been slacking off? The receptionist said you haven’t come in to practice.”

“Alright, now that you’re a star, you’re ignoring me. Impressive.”

The two messages spanned two days.

Tang Zhichu, imitating Huang Zejun’s gesture, scratched his head. So much had happened lately, he really hadn’t paid attention to Zhou Yun’s messages.

He replied, “I haven’t been slacking off, just practicing a bit at home.”

Before long, Zhou Yun replied.

“Amazing. You replied to my May third message on the eighth, and acted like nothing happened. Truly, a star.”

“…”

“Why are you just staring? Did you break your hand and can’t type?”

“Are you at the gym?”

“No.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Come over then.”

Tang Zhichu drove to the shopping district where Zhou Yun’s gym was located, parked in the underground garage, and took the elevator up.

At the front desk, a pretty girl saw him and immediately stepped out, pointing toward a room on the left.

Tang Zhichu thanked her and walked over.

He knocked. A voice inside said, “Come in.” Recognizing Zhou Yun’s voice, he pushed open the door.

It was a modern office, decorated in light tones.

Zhou Yun, dressed in loose sportswear, saw him enter and didn’t make any sarcastic comments. Instead, she stretched lazily, then got up.

“Done with your work?” Zhou Yun asked.

Tang Zhichu nodded. “More or less.”

“Take a seat on the sofa. What would you like to drink?”

He headed for the lounge. “Anything’s fine—just water.”

As Zhou Yun fetched the water, she glanced back at him several times, puzzled. “Why are you walking funny? Did you really work out at home?”

Tang Zhichu pinched his thigh. “Uh... yeah, I did. Just sit-ups and push-ups and such.”

Zhou Yun set the water before him and sat beside him, a smile on her face. “Why bother with that? Just eat more, then do some running or jump rope.”

Tang Zhichu waved his hand. “Let’s not talk about that. I’ve secured Jun’s company. I hired him back, and the company’s full of people he knows—he’ll be running things, no need for a transition. All the professionals are his; with him managing the company, there’s no holding back talent or resources.”

Zhou Yun burst out laughing and teased, “Did Jun even thank you for that?”

Tang Zhichu put on a serious face. “Win-win, win-win.”