Su Ning was momentarily stunned before he headed down.

However, as he was in the elevator clutching his phone, he couldn’t help but feel a bit puzzled.

He thought that Shen Mingzheng would be busy today, that even a polite congratulatory message from him might not get a response. At this time, many would be congratulating him, but he hadn’t expected Shen to come over directly.

Perhaps he had just finished up with his previous engagements.

Shen Mingzheng’s car was the same one Su Ning was all too familiar with, especially the person leaning against the car door, whom he had seen far too frequently lately.

Yet today was a bit different; Chen Tao wasn’t there, and Shen had come alone.

Su Ning had thought that their previous appearances together were more for show, just as he had said, “useful” in causing a rift between Jiang Chenfeng and Shen Huai’s partnership.

But now, there seemed no need for that.

Shen Mingzheng approached, seemed to guess what he was thinking, sighed but didn’t explain anything at that moment, only addressing the concerns Su Ning had.

“Let’s go, we’ll talk about the money, the money you need to buy shares. Don’t worry, I promised you, and I won’t go back on my word.”

Hearing this, Su Ning perked up.

He thought Shen Mingzheng would choose a more secluded restaurant to talk, but instead, Shen drove and, ten minutes later, turned into a high-rise residential area.

It was only when he entered that Su Ning realized this was not some hidden chef’s restaurant; it was Shen Mingzheng’s own place.

“Have a seat,” he said. “I’ve had soup stewing in advance, I timed it so you’d have a bowl when you arrived.”

No wonder the aroma of food hit him as soon as he walked in.

Su Ning lived in Galaxy Bay, a suburban villa quite far from Guang Ying Entertainment’s city center headquarters—over an hour’s drive—so lately he hadn’t been going home much; it was too time-consuming.

Shen Mingzheng’s residence was akin to a celebrity mansion in the heart of Hai Cheng’s CBD at the Seaside Tower. Moving here shortly after arriving in Hai Cheng, renting such a place was fitting for his status, the place looking like he had just moved in with barely any signs of habitation.

Conveniently, it was very close to Guang Ying Entertainment.

From the floor-to-ceiling windows in Shen’s apartment, Su Ning could even see his company’s illuminated logo.

“Why here?” Su Ning asked.

“My place, it’s safer,” Shen Mingzheng replied. “Going out is always risky, I think we should discuss matters here from now on.”

It made sense, especially considering what had happened at Diao Chun Jiang.

The soup Shen Mingzheng had prepared seemed to contain nourishing herbs; Su Ning could tell by the smell.

Even if he was a workaholic, his body wasn’t made of iron, and he was starting to feel a bit worn out. He sat down at Shen’s urging, and Shen went into the kitchen.

In that short time, from the sofa near the floor-to-ceiling window, Su Ning could see Hai Cheng’s largest outdoor digital billboard, which was currently showing a clip of Li Chu’s performance in the Idol Star Map replacement competition.

It was unclear whether the show’s producers or his fans had paid for the ad, but that billboard wasn’t cheap, and it was on high rotation.

The replacement competition performances had stirred up quite a buzz, thanks in part to this stage. From the audience leaks during the recording to the eventual showcase of both teams’ performances, expectations were met spectacularly.

“The Crown,” the original song of the performance, carried a lavish European medieval flair in both its music video and stage design. The members from Qilin Entertainment didn’t stick to the original, instead making significant modifications and innovations.

If the original song depicted a young king’s journey to the throne, Qilin’s rendition transformed it into a mature display of regal ease, as if the crown were merely a plaything in their experienced hands.

Such modifications recalled the classic hit of years past while also feeling refreshingly new, subtly reflecting Qilin’s current status as the unshakeable monarchs of the idol industry.

Qilin opened the performance with strong, impeccable choreography, and honestly, whether it was the live audience or those watching the show later, everyone’s first thought was that this group had definitely won.

The performance was too good, a representation of the empire Qilin had built, and they were literally playing home games.

But that notion quickly shifted when Li Chu’s team came on.

Li Chu knew that if they followed the original exactly, they couldn’t beat the opposing team; Qilin had practiced their classic songs countless times, a natural advantage. The most crucial thing was how to change, and significantly so.

“The Crown” originally had a strong electronic beat, but Li Chu’s performance began with the clear sound of a bamboo flute, capturing the audience’s attention right away.

It seemed to deviate from the original’s opulence.

Because of this change, there was a sense of narrative to the performance.

As the show progressed, it was a completely different song from Qilin’s version. One of the key changes was to the headgear; where there had once been a crown, Li Chu’s team appeared with bare heads, only revealing during the performance that their crowns were actually rings on their fingers.

With this change, the song took on a new meaning—not just a display of power, but more of a confession of deeper feelings.

The original lyrics went, “I come here, through thorns and thistles”; Li Chu’s version changed it to, “I come to see you, through thorns and thistles.”

And the final line, “The world shall crown me,” became, “And I shall crown you.”

With this line, the performer took the ring from his finger and extended it forward in his palm.

From the melody to the lyrics, the rap, and the dance, everyone in this group added their strength to convey their message.

Unlike typical sweet love confession songs, on closer inspection, this seemed like a confession to their supporters.

Those who came to participate in the replacement competition knew they had only one shot; most would leave after this stage and not know when they’d have another chance.

This wasn’t just a competition or a stage; it was perhaps their last opportunity to express their gratitude to all their supporters.

“The Crown” was about thanking the countless “yous” who had supported and glorified them, so even through thorns and thistles, they would strive to reach everyone.

From the outset, the song’s purpose was different.

Whether it was the performers on stage or the viewers in front of screens, everyone could deeply resonate with this song at that moment—they had already won.

Although Li Chu was the center, every team member had their moment to shine in the song, yet the most shared clip after the performance was Li Chu’s dance move.

His finger traced his cheek, lightly kissing the ring, his gaze slightly lingering, different from the previous Li Chu. The makeup and styling for this performance gave him an almost imperceptible allure.

The giant digital screen outside was playing this exact clip. Reportedly, just this clip alone had garnered over a million likes on social media, becoming a defining moment for Li Chu.

Both stages of the replacement competition had been explosive, even overshadowing the negative press about Jiang Chenfeng and Shen Huai’s scandal, and the one who gained the most was Li Chu.

He was very popular, exceptionally so.

This was within Su Ning’s expectations.

From his experience, in the idol industry, which heavily relies on youthful appeal, “star quality” is crucial.

A true natural-born idol could rise to fame with just two stages, and sometimes, a mere few seconds of footage or a single image was enough to make an idol a household name.

That was a gift from heaven, unasked for.

However, as of now, Li Chu’s sudden fame hadn’t brought Guang Ying Entertainment any significant immediate profits.

Even if he debuted, his contract stated that for the next year and a half, his management would be handled by the platform until his temporary group disbanded and he returned to his original company, by which time Guang Ying Entertainment might already be out of business.

Many knew of the past disputes between Li Chu and Guang Ying Entertainment; they thought that once he became famous, he would leave. It was unknown how many prospective companies would offer him opportunities then. Li Chu was currently in closed training, naturally unable to explain himself.

The weather wasn’t great today, and looking towards the billboards, the sky was rolling with dark clouds, seeming about to rain.

Shen Mingzheng brought the soup out just as Su Ning was watching outside, from his perspective, the dazzling city lights shone as Su Ning turned to face him, lost in thought.

Then he moved forward with the soup, just as Li Chu appeared on the billboard.

While the outside world was going crazy for Li Chu, the natural-born idol, few knew that without Su Ning, Li Chu’s fate would have been entirely different.

Su Ning.

Shen Mingzheng couldn’t describe his feelings at that moment; his gaze was captured by the man before him, and it took a long time before he looked away.

But for now, Su Ning was only concerned about the money.

Shen Mingzheng set down the soup bowl and sat opposite, discussing just that.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get the money together on time, but it will be in installments,” Shen Mingzheng admitted. “Shen Film Industry itself needs some liquidity, but I’ll make sure you get what I promised, even if I have to borrow from the bank.”

Su Ning nodded, genuinely thanking him.

He knew that even if the Shen family was willing to provide the funds, they wouldn’t give so much at once; it usually came in stages. Shen Mingzheng’s assurance was a surprise, especially at a crucial moment for Shen Film Industry’s restructuring.

Afterward, they quietly sipped their soup. Midway through, Shen Mingzheng spoke again, “Have you thought about your plans for the future with this money?”

Su Ning seemed to understand his underlying question, looking up at him, “Is Young Master Shen worried I won’t be able to repay?”

Shen Mingzheng: “No…”

“I know it’s perfectly normal for you to have concerns,” Su Ning continued, “Aside from relying on our previously agreed collaboration, the Su family still has some properties and assets that aren’t easy to liquidate, but I hope Young Master Shen can give me a chance. I will revive Guang Ying Entertainment.”

Shen Mingzheng, somewhat resigned, explained, “That’s not what I meant. Su Ning, what I mean is, I’m already the heir to Shen Film Industry, you can now choose to take back what you should have.”

“Marry me, Su Ning.”

Su Ning: …

He set his spoon down.

His silence made Shen Mingzheng a bit anxious, or perhaps he had been nervous since he spoke those words.

Seeming to try to ease the mood or perhaps to convince himself, he continued, “You know, the entertainment industry in Hai Cheng has always been complicated. Now that Jiang Hai Media is severely weakened, it’s a good time for us to continue working together,” he said. “And Hai Cheng is just a part of this vast market, Su Ning, the road ahead is long, choosing a reliable… partner is important.”

He paused before saying “partner,” seemingly weighing his words carefully, then finally choosing that term.

Su Ning thought for a while, then asked, “Can Young Master Shen give me some time to consider?”

Shen Mingzheng: “Of course.”

He was a bit relieved because Su Ning hadn’t outright rejected him as before.

Then Su Ning silently finished his soup.

When he was about to say goodbye and leave, Shen Mingzheng stopped him.

“Stay here for the night. I have a clean room and clothes for you,” he offered. “Tomorrow, I can take you to the company; it’s very close.”

Su Ning considered for a moment and didn’t refuse.

He stayed in a well-cleaned guest room, took a bath, changed clothes, and opened the wardrobe, which was full of clothes. Su Ning tried a set on; it fit perfectly.

He remembered that Shen Mingzheng’s clothes were a size larger than his; these must have been prepared specifically for him.

Normally, such meticulous hospitality would flatter anyone, especially coming from Shen Mingzheng, a hot commodity in today’s market.

But Su Ning slightly furrowed his brow.

He felt increasingly uneasy about this situation.

Su Ning wasn’t unused to others being nice to him; Shen Mingzheng had never treated him poorly before, and in his previous life, he had had plenty of people courting him, eagerly showing affection. However, Su Ning had different definitions for different “relationships.”

Now, his relationship with Shen Mingzheng felt a bit strange.