Chapter Seventy-Eight: My Father Has Passed Away

Tang Zhichu was more candid when talking with Zhou Yun than with Huang Zejun. It wasn’t a matter of treating them differently; it was simply that Huang Zejun’s current actions were based on Tang’s own suggestions, so he was already getting the better end of the deal.

After outlining the company’s direction, Tang Zhichu presented Zhou Yun with two options.

First, the accounts would belong to the company, with a 60/40 split.
Second, a 50/50 split, but with a contract term.

After considering for a while, Zhou Yun asked, “You gave Jun-ge a 20/80 split, so why only 60/40 for me?”

Tang Zhichu shook his head. “It’s not the same. His 20/80 isn’t as valuable as your 50/50.”

“Why?”

“The company needs a commercial streamer, right? You can choose this person from your own studio, and how you split earnings with her is up to you.”

Zhou Yun understood, but the matter involved trust. She looked at Tang Zhichu, pondering something.

Tang Zhichu leaned back on the sofa, leaving the choice to Zhou Yun. The commercialization of influencers was inevitable, but it could be positioned in advance; it shouldn’t devolve into everyone simply selling goods, which would make MCN agencies meaningless.

“I choose the second option,” Zhou Yun said suddenly.

Tang Zhichu was a bit surprised. It seemed she didn’t fully trust him.

Actually, Zhou Yun’s studio would make slightly more with the first option. Nowadays, everything depends on traffic accumulation. Unless an account becomes a brand—which is rare, even in his past life, there was only one case like Li Ziqi.

Even if they parted ways in the end, Tang Zhichu would have little use for the account, so why insist on keeping it?

Because it’s a manifestation of the influencer company’s value. If you want investment, holding the influencers’ accounts under your company is a different concept from not owning them.

Of course, Zhou Yun’s choice was understandable; for them, it was a safeguard.

Just as Tang Zhichu was about to agree, Zhou Yun spoke again.

“But for the contract term, let’s make it long-term. I can’t say now how many years I can commit to; I’ll try talking with Wang Xiaoyan and the others.”

Tang Zhichu frowned. What did she mean?

Zhou Yun grinned. “Surprised, aren’t you? It’s not that I don’t trust you. If you really give the company’s core commercial operations to us, a 60/40 split is unfair to you. Let’s go with the current average—50/50. The commercial lifespan of influencers is short anyway. Holding the account is just a leverage tool, and as for the contract length, I don’t mind, but we need to give the team some clarity.”

Tang Zhichu’s expression grew complicated. Something felt off.

“As for the commercial streamer, leave it to me. We’ll incubate as a group, but focus on Wang Xiaoyan for now. You know about Wang Xiaoyan’s connection to Yu Hua—it benefits you. Of course, this isn’t some petty scheme you despise. If Wang Xiaoyan succeeds, I’ll be glad; if not, she’ll relinquish the role herself.”

After finishing, Zhou Yun looked at Tang Zhichu. Her bright eyes sparkled.

Tang Zhichu couldn’t handle Zhou Yun’s intense gaze and looked away.

“You handle the reception for the visitors from DY,” he said.

Zhou Yun nodded, thinking, that’s right—such things should be entrusted to her. Jun-ge is too clumsy; he could handle the hosting, but socializing? That’s another matter.

Dealing with a clever boss was different.

With a man like Tang Zhichu, Chen Siyang should be working harder to secure him.

Zhou Yun had already noticed the relationship between Chen Siyang and Tang Zhichu; both of them seemed to have feelings for each other.

Why hadn’t they gotten together?

Zhou Yun felt she understood Tang Zhichu well—he was extremely smart.

For Tang Zhichu, it didn’t really matter either way, but Chen Siyang was different. If she did, her path would shift to variety shows, with a small caveat, and she’d be tied to Tang Zhichu.

Chen Siyang wasn’t foolish, but she was proud and had ambitions deep inside.

Zhou Yun had thought it over. Tang Zhichu had, for Chen Siyang’s dream, actually joined the game against capital, though in a subtle way.

Chen Siyang might never realize any of this.

Zhou Yun had seen through it, so on the final recording day, when the director said Tang Zhichu might miss his chance with Chen Siyang, Chen Siyang retorted, “Who’s missing whom is still uncertain.”

If Tang Zhichu and Chen Siyang did get together, that would be fine; if not, would Zhou Yun let Tang Zhichu slip away?

Everyone had their chance, and Zhou Yun didn’t think of herself as shy.

She liked him, had ability and talent herself, and had already made up her mind.

That was why Zhou Yun brought Tang Zhichu into “The Original Music Alliance.”

In Zhou Yun’s eyes, Tang Zhichu deserved a grander stage. He should shine and conquer, not just get entangled with a few women.

“Hey.”

Tang Zhichu turned his head. “Huh?”

“You need to work hard.”

“Mm.”

A smile appeared on Zhou Yun’s face. She stretched lazily, then rose. “Let’s go eat. I know a barbecue place, it’s amazing, absolutely delicious. Afterward, come back with me—we’ll do a little workout. You’re recording the music show later this month, so you should shape up and not slack off.”

Tang Zhichu stretched as well, but didn’t feel relaxed at all.

Without Chen Siyang around, Zhou Yun was becoming bolder.

Tang Zhichu thought, being too attractive to women wasn’t always a good thing. His back still hurt.

...

In the underground garage, Zhou Yun pulled out her keys and pressed the button for her car.

But halfway there, she stopped and asked Tang Zhichu, “Old Tang, look over there—isn’t that Sister Lan’s car?”

Tang Zhichu touched his forehead—he’d miscalculated.

Who would have thought going for barbecue would require driving?

Still, Tang Zhichu felt he shouldn’t lie. One lie leads to countless others, so he simply took out the keys.

“I drove it here.”

Zhou Yun narrowed her eyes. “Hmm?”

“Uh... I was supposed to pick up people from DY today. My Hongtu isn’t mine; it’s my cousin’s, and I returned it to him a few days ago, so I borrowed Sister Lan’s car.”

Zhou Yun’s smile returned. She spoke gently, “It’s fine, but I think the big G isn’t ideal—it’s too ostentatious and might make people think you’re restless. Let’s return it to Sister Lan later. She’s an out-of-towner running a business in Yuzhou; she really needs a car. This car suits her—it gives her a sense of security. Take mine, I don’t use it much.”

Tang Zhichu scratched his head. “It’s okay, I’ll buy one myself—should be sorted in a couple of days.”

Zhou Yun didn’t care, tossing her keys at him, forcing him to catch them.

“Just return it to me when you’ve bought yours.”

Tang Zhichu said nothing, quietly taking the passenger seat.

Zhou Yun stomped her foot, thinking, just as expected—Sister Lan really has an eye for talent. In Zhou Yun’s view, the earnest Jiang Lan was much tougher to handle than Chen Siyang.

Zhou Yun got in; Tang Zhichu handed her the keys, saying, “You’re going to receive the DY visitors, right? You should drive. I won’t need a car these next couple of days.”

Zhou Yun answered with an “oh,” taking the keys but looking visibly unhappy.

She started the car, and before they’d even left the parking spot, Tang Zhichu suddenly said, “My father passed away.”