"Alright, actually I sold a piece of software while preparing for my defense," Xiao He said. "Combined with some savings I'd set aside, it came to exactly five million. I figured the money sitting there was doing nothing—might as well invest it in myself and let it earn more money later."
Liu Rulan remained silent for a moment across from him, then asked with some suspicion, "You did that?"
In an age dominated by technology, it wasn't surprising that a single piece of software could fetch a huge sum, but Liu Rulan had never noticed Xiao He having that kind of ability. Apart from staying at the school lately to prepare for his defense, she had never seen him hunched over a laptop writing code and building software.
Xiao He cleared his throat lightly. "What, I keep a low profile usually."
The software really had been something Xiao He put together while at school—a network security program with basic AI defense capabilities. It was the best output he could produce at his current, elementary hacker level.
Coincidentally, Xiao He's advisor was the deputy dean of their institute—well-established and well-connected. Xiao He simply asked the deputy dean to make introductions.
Xiao He also knew that given his past situation, it was impossible for him to independently produce such software. So he told the deputy dean that he'd participated in the core coding and would mainly handle later sales, while most of the team were employees from major companies who developed the product privately and couldn't appear publicly.
Programmers taking private commissions was an open but hush-hush topic in the industry, so Xiao He's explanation raised no suspicion.
Though the deputy dean was normally strict, he was a decent person. Since he would receive a cut as a recommender, after confirming the software's quality he decisively helped Xiao He introduce it to a big company for promotion, and it was quickly sold.
Thus Xiao He earned a large sum.
"Have you paid the taxes and handled the paperwork?" Liu Rulan still asked cautiously.
Xiao He looked a little helpless. "Sister Liu, don't worry. You don't need to clean up my mess."
"Phew, that's good—" Liu Rulan's tone instantly brightened. "Come to the studio tomorrow. I'll bring a lawyer."
"Okay."
…
The next day, Xiao He arrived at the studio they had just established—
The studio was located in an office building in a prime commercial district in central Shanghai. The area was extremely upscale; calling it prime real estate didn't overstate it. The moment Xiao He walked in he saw the studio's name: "Linghui Studio."
"Linghui."
Xiao He murmured the name to himself at the doorway.
"Above the stars, radiant light envelops the many."
When he signed with Sister Liu previously, he had seen this name. He'd felt then that, deep down, Liu Rulan couldn't hide her ambition and pride. Leaving Jiaxing Entertainment had likely been a move to pursue better career development and to show her talents on a broader stage.
Xiao He felt a little fortunate to be working with someone so ambitious.
"How is it?" Liu Rulan walked past Xiao He in her high heels from behind. "These designs are mine. Feel free to look around."
"Impressive." Xiao He meant it.
On the right wall as you enter, there was a large acrylic photo frame meant to display the studio's artists. At the moment the studio only had Xiao He as talent and nothing magazine-ready yet, so the frame was empty. A warm light from above hit the frame, leaving a scattering of faint sparkles.
Past the corridor was an open workspace. It wasn't large, but the layout and furnishings were thoughtfully done. Scanning the room didn't give a sense of clutter or disorder. Liu Rulan greeted a few scattered employees as they lowered their heads and continued tending to their tasks.
On the left was a fully independent lounge equipped for eating, drinking, playing, and sleeping—everything for relaxation and entertainment. In one corner there was even a small reading area; the bookshelf held film scripts, marketing books, and other entertainment-related materials.
Overall, the studio combined professional modern management with humane, personal touches. After touring it, Xiao He thought that even working here as a coder would be pretty nice.
Of course, that wish was far from possible now.
After signing the documents, Xiao He officially became one of Linghui Studio's shareholders, with the primary boss still being Liu Rulan.
When he put away his pen, Xiao He joked, "If we recruit newcomers in the future, I can try out how being a boss feels."
Liu Rulan rolled her eyes. "Don't count on newcomers for a few years. Managing just you is tiring enough. If you want to be a boss, congratulations—you already are."
Xiao He: "Huh—just like that?"
Liu Rulan shrugged. "There are only the two of us as investors. You agree, I agree, it's approved."
A twitch pulled at Xiao He's mouth. "Then forget it. Being a boss sounds boring…"
"Don't say that." Liu Rulan solemnly patted Xiao He and spoke earnestly, "That's why next month's audition depends on you. It's Director Feng! If we land a role, we'll recoup half our investment in no time. I'm counting on you to pay out more bonuses, boss."
Xiao He: "…"
Wait, something felt off. He felt like he'd fallen into a trap.
Of course, these were jokes. Since they mentioned next month's audition, Xiao He shifted the topic and asked the question nagging at him: "What's the situation with that audition? Sister Liu, haven't you heard any leads? Even if I prepare in advance now, I'd be completely in the dark."
No genre, no role, no script—only the news that Director Feng Zhengyang was about to return and prepare a new film. The entire entertainment industry stirred at the rumor, eagerly waiting for further announcements.
And Feng Zhengyang was indisputably a top-tier director in the circle. His works had won Hong Kong and other film awards multiple times; his last film before retirement even crossed borders to win him Best Director at the Cannes Film Festival.
Moreover, Feng's distinctive personal style was so recognizable that people called it the "Feng Zhengyang style." Even today many director-minded students studied and imitated him, treating him as an idol and a benchmark.
A director with such generational significance had retired seven years ago and rarely appeared in public.
So when news of Director Feng's comeback leaked, it naturally attracted everyone's attention.
Oddly, this time he was unusually secretive—he didn't announce the film's subject matter, nor even its title. Those who had heard whispers were left anxiously waiting.
Even usually well-informed Liu Rulan had found no reliable intel.
"I heard that even the investors didn't get to see the script," Liu Rulan shrugged. "Let alone us."
"The investors didn't know what they were funding and still put in huge amounts?" Xiao He was shocked. "They're not afraid of losing money?"
"That's Director Feng." Liu Rulan spread her hands. "Do you know what that name means? Even seven years later, his film Moonlight still ranks in the top five on the Greater China film charts!"
"If that film hadn't been born in the wrong era, it would definitely be somewhere in today's top ten box office!"
"Anything by Director Feng is guaranteed to be a masterpiece!"
"I know he's impressive…" Xiao He frowned briefly, then relaxed again. "But I heard he retired because…"
"Shh, don't say it." Liu Rulan instinctively scanned the surroundings.
Even in the office, some things shouldn't be said casually.
"Even the police never reached a conclusion back then. Just act like you don't know, okay? Do you think others don't know either? Everyone pretends they don't, so the circle can keep functioning."
Xiao He pondered and didn't press the subject further. He nodded to reassure Liu Rulan. "I understand, Sister Liu. Don't worry—I won't blab about it."