To give an example, the relationship between Su Ning and Li Chu is clearly that of an agent and artist, which Su Ning excels at managing.

Having created legends in the agent business before, Su Ning believed that this couldn’t be defined by simple business cooperation.

An agent often needs to understand all aspects of an artist, even better than the artists themselves, to decide what’s best for their career, something even the closest “friends” can’t achieve.

For a long-term, successful agent, the most accurate definition for an artist is “family”—family without blood relation but with mutual trust, which has always been Su Ning’s belief.

Looking at it now, his relationship with Shen Mingzheng couldn’t be defined merely as friends either; according to Young Master Shen, they were “business partners” right from the start.

But business partnerships, formed for mutual benefit, shouldn’t reach such personal levels.

As Su Ning had previously wondered, marrying for alliance didn’t seem to maximize Shen’s benefits, yet he brought it up again tonight.

Young Master Shen had helped him many times before, and Su Ning didn’t immediately suspect all his actions as manipulative; he genuinely appreciated Shen Mingzheng.

But it was normal for a qualified businessman to be cautious when facing unexplainable matters.

Of course, a workaholic loner often overlooks a possibility that normal people might consider—could it be possible that the marriage proposal was motivated by feelings beyond mere benefits?

Su Ning hadn’t considered this layer.

Unfortunately, neither had the other party thought much about it; he was just instinctively trying to hold on to someone he deemed important.

However, the next morning brought a slight revelation—they discovered an interesting fact.

Their biological clocks were nearly synchronized, and their habits were quite similar. As much of a workaholic as Su Ning was, he always focused on his meals, never multitasking during eating, at most flipping through inconsequential messages and discussing light matters but never fussing with documents.

He would usually make a cup of tea after eating, then start his workday.

Shen Mingzheng did almost exactly the same, even using the tea leaves Su Ning favored, probably a trait embedded in the DNA of workaholics.

When Shen Mingzheng drove Su Ning to the company, they didn’t avoid people; at the entrance, many overheard their conversation.

“Now that I’m here, could I get access rights to Guang Ying Entertainment’s door? I can’t always be stuck outside.”

“Of course,” Su Ning nodded. “My oversight. I’ll have someone grant you access to the top level right now.”

Shen Mingzheng smiled and then let Su Ning head off to work.

The top level was the president’s office, and normally employees of Guang Ying Entertainment didn’t have this access. This conversation was revealing, especially the word “always.”

If Guang Ying Entertainment were really going to close, what did “always” mean?

It seemed that Su Ning’s confidence at the company was not just for show but backed by genuine assurance.

But it was too late for some to regret their actions.

Recently, Su Ning had decisively sold off some projects and dismissed various individuals pushed into the company due to nepotism and many who were idle. He offered compensation, but his attitude towards their departure was very firm.

As Su Ning had said, the only choice for the company was to cut costs and increase efficiency, and he would rid the company of these parasites.

In the days that followed, Shen Mingzheng’s car was often seen at the company entrance. The proximity of Guang Ying Entertainment and Shen Film Industry made visiting each other’s places increasingly common.

It was natural to reciprocate gestures, and Su Ning did his part.

Coming back late from overtime, cooking a simple bowl of clear soup noodles, he didn’t mind preparing an extra portion. Stepping out of the office and spending a little time in the kitchen was a rare form of relaxation for Su Ning.

But as he brought out the bowl, he distinctly heard Shen Mingzheng on the phone, not catching the full conversation but hearing, “the old man, he can’t…”

He assumed it was about Shen Mingzheng’s grandfather, the current head of the Shen family, but Su Ning didn’t ask further, just signaling him to come eat.

After the call, Shen Mingzheng looked rather solemn, even in Su Ning’s presence.

“There are some adjustments within Shen Film Industry, always a bit of turmoil. If someone from the Shen family approaches you, just ignore it.”

Su Ning wouldn’t have interfered anyway, so he simply nodded in understanding.

Things felt different after that night’s conversation.

Rumors were swirling in Hai Cheng’s entertainment circles about a marriage contract between the Shen and Su families. First, Shen Huai’s fall from grace, then Shen Ting’s stroke and hospitalization, and Su Ning, previously Shen Huai’s lackey, seemed unbothered as if he was a changed person.

Despite the turmoil, the marriage contract, tied to a considerable fortune, still stood, with rumors that Su Ning was now fortuitously engaged to Shen Mingzheng, seemingly securing Guang Ying Entertainment’s resurgence.

But as always, public opinion lagged behind the facts.

While rumors spread that Guang Ying Entertainment was doomed, Su Ning had already prepared countermeasures, appearing as if he and Shen Mingzheng were almost ready to marry.

After the first transfer of 200 million yuan, however, there had been no further movement.

The alliance with Young Master Shen had encountered obstacles.

The 30-day period was neither short nor long, but the matter could not withstand any delay.

On the surface, Su Ning continued to work as usual, but one day, as he was about to go home, a car suddenly blocked his way.

Driving alone without a chauffeur, Su Ning found himself surrounded by three men as he got out, recognizing one as a man from Shen Ting’s entourage.

“President Su,” the leader tapped on the car window, “You’ve heard about your Uncle Shen Ting being hospitalized, right? He wants to see you. Please come with us.”

The tone was polite, but the action was not.

Su Ning asked, “What if I refuse?”

“With so many years of friendship, it would be unkind not to go,” the man smiled. “And I see you’re not that busy, missing just 400 million, right?”

Realizing their intent, Su Ning didn’t resist, instead facilitating: “Have one of your men drive. I can’t just leave the car here.”

The car was expensive, and Su Ning, currently short on funds, would be pained if it were damaged.

“Good, I always like dealing with someone as sensible and straightforward as you, President Su,” the man smiled. “Let’s go.”

They took him to a private hospital in Hai Cheng, which looked more like a resort than a hospital.

When Su Ning saw Shen Ting, he almost didn’t recognize him; the man seemed to have aged twenty years, weak and barely conscious.

Shen Ting had always hidden behind Shen Huai, seemingly uninvolved, but without his father’s orders, Shen Huai, who hadn’t yet inherited any shares, couldn’t have achieved so much on his own.

Shen Ting had been a friend and brother to the late Su Honghui for over thirty years, but it had come to this.

Struggling to sit up on seeing Su Ning, Shen Ting failed and could only mumble his name, “Xiao Ning… Xiao Ning.”

But as he spoke, it changed to, “Brother Honghui, Sister Zhu, I… I’m sorry…”

His eyes stared into the void, but Su Ning knew. He was seeing the original owner’s parents, now also his, Su Honghui and his mother, Liao Zhu.

The man who brought Su Ning asked, “You’ve seen him, President Su, any thoughts?”

“No thoughts,” Su Ning replied indifferently. “What’s done is done, and my thoughts now are useless.”

Had Shen Ting hesitated when acting against their years of friendship and collaboration? Su Ning didn’t know, so he couldn’t judge.

“I think any partnership can be unstable, even years of friendship can’t guarantee stability,” the man said. “In business, there are no permanent friends, only permanent interests, right?”

Su Ning didn’t agree or disagree.

He knew the man was hinting at something, and it was clear they wanted him to meet someone else, not the half-dead Shen Ting.

Since he was already there, there was no need for cryptic talk. He directly asked the few men beside him, “I’ve seen this one; where’s your old man?”

“You’re a smart man, President Su,” the man said. “Please, this way.”

They didn’t even glance at Shen Ting as if he was just a fixture, leading Su Ning to the side. Through a one-way soundproof glass, Su Ning could see into the adjacent room where Shen Mingzheng and another man were seated.

Old Master Shen.

His full name was Shen Antang, known simply as “Old Master” within the circle, a term uniquely identifying him among the likes of Chen Yuan to Liang Xiaoliang.

At first glance, the current head of the Shen family looked benevolent, dressed in a simple silk Tang suit with a neatly kept white beard, holding a string of purple sandalwood prayer beads, resembling a benevolent sage from an animated film. Reportedly nearing eighty, he still appeared vibrant.

In the room, both men were seated on the same level, though the younger Shen Mingzheng was actually taller, but the elder seemed to dominate the center.

Shen Mingzheng was preparing tea for him.

The kindly old man took a sip and praised it, noting improvement since their last meeting. It seemed like a harmonious scene until Shen Mingzheng broached the next topic.

The matter of the 400 million yuan.

Su Ning knew that Shen Mingzheng’s investments in Hai Cheng weren’t limited to one or two; his successful ventures often remained hidden, like the major online media outlets he’d secured, indicating his intentions to enter the media industry.

Langbo of Jiang Hai Media had once dominated the new media era, but it was now declining, especially after several instances of suppressing trending topics and Jiang Chenfeng’s scandal leading to direct regulatory notices and the shutdown of some sectors. It was an excellent time for other platforms to capture the market.

Shen Mingzheng’s investment direction was towards newer, more popular short-video streaming platforms and niche, specialized forums—none displayed openly but indeed very cash-intensive, especially at this critical juncture.

Su Ning knew this because he often rode in Shen Mingzheng’s car, where project documents were left in plain sight. Seeing the company names on the covers and connecting them with Shen Mingzheng’s previous actions, he had a good idea of the scope.

According to Shen Mingzheng’s plans, there was enough money, and he had settled this with his family before officially taking over as the legitimate heir of Shen Film Industry.

As a winner whose family was willing to provide funds, the crisis at Shen Film Industry being resolved and the family’s favor meant plenty of banks were willing to offer him collateral loans.

For large corporations, borrowing several hundred million for liquidity was normal; contacting local bank connections could secure the funds in a week.

But the loan process he had planned was stalled.

From the moment Old Master Shen arrived in Hai Cheng, that loan had been delayed, stuck at the final hurdle, ineffective even when Chen Tao personally intervened.

This wasn’t a problem that switching banks could solve; Shen Mingzheng knew someone had intervened, and switching banks wouldn’t help.

The 200 million yuan was what he had managed to scrape together for Su Ning, and he didn’t want to break his promise.

Now, meeting with the old man, he wanted to clarify this issue, but Shen Antang took a sip of tea and remained unphased, stating, “It’s your choice.”

“400 million yuan, I’ve given it to you, and it will reach your hands, but whether you invest it in the promised media platforms or give it to that Su boy, it’s your choice.”

“Oh, and I heard about an inheritance in the Su family, right? But even if you drag him to get married now, considering the legal process, it might be too late.”

Shen Mingzheng paused in pouring the tea.

Old Master Shen had calculated everything, knowing all about Su Ning’s situation.

He knew discussing trust or contractual obligations with his grandfather was futile, so he didn’t mention it.

“I want to explain that this money isn’t for Su Ning; it’s an investment. If you trust my vision, you know that Su Ning alone can create a future no less than those media platforms,” he said. “The Shen family doesn’t lack this money, and if it’s a promising venture, why not secure it? With these continuous supports, the Shen family can prosper indefinitely.”

Old Master Shen looked at him, then subtly glanced at the one-way glass behind which Su Ning stood, setting down his teacup and asking, “So, the rumors about your marriage, you see it as a promising investment?”

“Not because you’ve fallen for him?”

Su Ning stood listening to Shen Mingzheng’s response.

“Of course not,” Shen Mingzheng said. “I hope you’ll trust me this time; Su Ning is very useful to the Shen family.”

As he spoke, the people nearby gauged Su Ning’s reaction, but he showed no change in expression, not even a frown. If he made any sound, those inside wouldn’t hear him, so he just watched the ongoing conversation.

Shen Mingzheng had stated his position, but Old Master Shen still seemed unconvinced.

“If you find him useful, you could wait for Guang Ying Entertainment to close, then take him in to work for you, why go to this extent? And why bother keeping the troublesome Guang Ying Entertainment,” Shen Antang said. “You should know, I agreed to refinance Shen Film Industry because I saw potential in your plan to invest in media, not Guang Ying Entertainment.”

“The Shen family certainly doesn’t lack these 400 million, but what if I want you to choose now? Will you follow the plan you used to convince me and invest, or will you lend the money to Su Ning?”

This forcefulness left Shen Mingzheng silent for a while.

He had used many lofty excuses and knew what his grandfather wanted to hear, but still couldn’t say it, facing a very difficult choice.