This news had already been pushed to the top of Weibo's trending topics several times by the public relations team, with everyone speculating about the cast. Li Ran would often gossip with Zhao Xiyin, mentioning that the production budget exceeded nine figures.
Dai Yunxin's words were unremarkable, as if she were simply giving her an extra ticket. But her gaze remained fixed on her, her eyes subtly revealing hope and expectation.
Zhao Xiyin neither agreed nor refused, her thoughts drifting away, her mind wandering to distant horizons.
Dai Yunxin was frustrated and disappointed in him, and her anger and resentment were fermenting together, and she was about to lose her temper again.
Zhao Xiyin suddenly spoke, her voice soft, "Teacher, can I take him with me?"
He was pointing at Xiao Shun, who was standing to the side.
Xiao Shun never went to university, but he loves to dance. He's self-taught, just randomly dancing around, especially good at street dance, and can also dance a few parts of folk jazz. The kid doesn't say it, but whenever he passes by the Beijing Dance Academy or the Grand Theater, he can't help but take a few extra glances.
Zhao Xiyin has completely severed ties with this circle, so naturally she has little opportunity to broaden Xiao Shun's horizons.
Dai Yunxin nodded in agreement, "Okay."
When she left, Zhao Xiyin saw her off.
During the scorching summer days, the world is like being in a furnace.
Dai Yunxin drove a Mercedes-Benz G-Class. She opened the door halfway, then closed it again. She turned around, took off her sunglasses, and asked Zhao Xiyin, "You can come to me if you need anything. You're still young, you can always come back..."
The word "stage" came to an abrupt end. Dai Yunxin sighed and waved her hand, "No need to see me off."
——
At 10 p.m., Zhou Qishen finished listening to the budget report on the road and bridge project and left the company after the meeting.
In the parking lot, the security guard respectfully addressed him: "Mr. Zhou."
Zhou Qishen nodded, took off his suit jacket and tossed it to the passenger seat. Underneath, a dark, thin silk shirt clung to his body, its texture faintly visible. The Land Rover pulled out of its parking space and merged into the traffic via the auxiliary lane.
Upon arriving near the Begonia Garden, Zhou Qishen parked his car on the roadside and walked about a hundred meters west into the alley. At the very end, there was an inconspicuous little shop with a signboard bearing the shop's name in handwritten running script—Zhaozhao.
"Same as always, Houkui tea, the water is eight-tenths hot, I brewed it twice for you, this is the second brew." Old Cheng handed him the tea.
Zhou Qishen tapped the table with his index finger, gesturing for him to put it there, and asked, "Where's Xiao Zhao?"
"Going out to meet up with classmates."
The teahouse was closed, and there were no women present. Zhou Qishen loosened his shirt collar and lit a cigarette with complete focus. "How late is it? Are you really comfortable with her going out alone?"
Old Cheng smiled and said, "Don't worry."
After a long day of meetings, Zhou Qishen was exhausted and started smoking heavily. When he was smoking his third cigarette, Lao Cheng took the cigarette pack away, saying, "Alright, take it easy."
Zhou Qishen flicked off the cigarette ash and took two sips of tea.
Old Cheng asked, "You met with Xiao Zhao?"
Zhou Qishen hummed in agreement.
"Is there something wrong?" Old Cheng's words were loaded with meaning; the question was subtle, but the underlying message was direct.
Zhou Qishen pinched the bridge of his nose and scoffed, "Why are you, a tea seller, being so gossipy?"
Old Cheng, Cheng Ji, is in his early thirties and has a tough, masculine air about him; he's definitely not the type to fuss over trivial matters. He served in the army with Zhou Qishen and Gu Heping, but he was discharged a year earlier. He started his own antique business, and while he's very low-key, he's quite wealthy. The teahouse he opened two years ago is a small business, but it's very famous. They only serve a limited number of items a day, and no matter how long the lines of people who come from afar are, they close down and rest once they're sold out.
The more carefree and irresponsible Zhou Qishen is, the more trouble he has in store for himself.
Old Cheng understood, so he simply changed his question: "Do you still want Xiao Zhao?"
Zhou Qishen remained silent, subconsciously reaching for a cigarette. Old Cheng, however, moved the cigarette further away before he could.
Zhou Qishen suddenly smiled, helpless and hopeless, "I want it, how could I not want it? I fucking want it to death."
Old Cheng was stunned for a moment.
Zhou Qi took a deep breath. "She won't give me that chance."
Brothers can usually confide in each other. Old Cheng sighed, "Is this how it ends? Are you willing to accept it? Let me give you a heads-up."
Before he could finish speaking, a commotion erupted outside. The door was pushed open, and Gu Heping stormed in, furious. Pointing at the culprit, he unleashed a string of Beijing curses: "You surnamed Zhou, are you out of your mind?! Is your head round?! You took pictures of other people's sexy lingerie and sent them all to me, what kind of nonsense is that?! That little red-haired guy has gone mad, delivering goods to my door within the Fourth Ring Road, acting like he's seen a ghost when he sees me, and even saying in a sarcastic tone that I'm the Gu family's genius!"
Gu Heping's shouting made Zhou Qishen frown, but he didn't take it to heart. Instead, he asked Lao Cheng in a deep voice, "What are you trying to remind me of?"
Gu Heping's cursing was so loud that Zhou Qishen didn't hear the second half of his sentence.
Old Cheng then raised his voice, "The power dynamic in the Meng family has shifted, and the young master has taken over—Meng Weixi has returned to the country."
Chapter 6 The Old Testament (2)
Old Testament (2)
Upon hearing this name, even Gu Heping stopped his insults, fell silent, and subconsciously glanced at Zhou Qishen.
Zhou Qishen maintained the same expression, not even lifting his eyelids, quietly drinking his tea.
Old Cheng gave Gu Heping a wink, and Gu Heping understood immediately. After the tense moment had passed, he nudged Zhou Qishen's elbow and said, "You got the invitation, right? Are you going on Saturday night?"
The invitation from Fantian Entertainment was personally delivered to the company by their public relations manager two weeks ago. His secretary even asked for his opinion this morning so that the schedule could be arranged in advance.
What is the background of Fantian Entertainment?
This press conference, co-hosted with the China Film Bureau, carries several layers of significance.
He knew perfectly well, of course.