This producer has no bottom line.

The wind blew in from the street corner, making the plastic sheets of the roadside food stalls flap loudly.

Ren Pingsheng stood there, his hands in his pockets, without saying a word.

Da Peng stared at his profile for five seconds.

"Was it Alex who did it, Ping Sheng?"

Ren Pingsheng didn't answer and turned to walk into the building. Da Peng followed, and the two entered the elevator one after the other without saying a word.

Da Peng spoke again after the elevator doors closed.

"I checked the background of that Jinan boss. He has no business dealings with Sohu. Under normal circumstances, Alex would have no way of contacting him."

"Then it's not Alex."

Da Peng was stunned.

"Who else could it be but him?"

"If Alex wants to mess with me, he can just do it at the company. There's no need to go through all this trouble to scare a small business owner in Jinan."

The elevator arrived, and the doors opened.

Ren Pingsheng walked out, and Da Peng followed behind, his mind still racing.

"Who is that?"

"Not many people know about our financing plan, and even fewer have the contact information for those in Jinan."

Ren Pingsheng pushed open the door to the office area and glanced around. Xiao Lin wasn't at her workstation; her desk was neatly tidy.

Sister Zhao was sitting in the corner. When she saw him come in, she hesitated to speak.

"Where's Kobayashi?"

"I asked for leave this afternoon, saying there was something going on at home."

Ren Pingsheng walked to Xiao Lin's workstation, moved the mouse, and the screen lit up. The email was open, and the most recent sent message was dated 11:43 AM today.

He hadn't seen the recipient's address before, but the domain name suffix was Sohu's internal email address.

Ren Pingsheng turned off the screen and sat back in his seat.

Da Peng stood to the side, his expression gradually changing.

"Xiaolin?"

"I'm not sure, but he's the only official employee who knows the specific progress in Jinan."

Da Peng clenched his fists, making a cracking sound.

"I fucking..."

"Brother Peng."

Ren Pingsheng's voice was very flat.

"Was scolding useful?"

Da Peng swallowed the swear words that were about to come out, and his chest heaved several times before he calmed down.

"So what do we do now? Three million is gone."

Ren Pingsheng took two documents out of the drawer and placed them on the table.

"Guo Weiwei's contract has been approved, 800,000 yuan, with an initial payment of 400,000 yuan. Perfect World is still going through the process, 700,000 yuan, and will respond within five days."

Dapeng looked down and his mouth moved slightly.

When did you start talking about Perfect World?

"This afternoon."

"You never told me this."

"Speaking about things that aren't certain will only cause more trouble."

Dapeng stared at the two documents for a long time.

"Is a down payment of 750,000, plus your existing savings, enough to register a company?"

"Registering a company doesn't cost much; the problem is the start-up capital. 750,000 yuan can support a team for three months, but there's no buffer."

"What about the investment? The one in Jinan fell through, are there any other options?"

"Yes, but there's not enough time."

Ren Pingsheng leaned back in his chair, his fingers interlaced on his stomach. He was thinking about someone.

Someone he'd known existed since his rebirth, but had never actually touched.

It's not that I don't want to get involved, it's just that the timing isn't right.

But now, having been stabbed in the back, his original schedule is completely disrupted, and he no longer has the luxury of waiting patiently.

"Brother Peng, do you remember that post on Tianya last week?"

"Which one?"

"The Wanda one."

Dapeng paused for a moment, then seemed to remember something, and his expression became very strange.

"You wouldn't be thinking—"

"I don't have his contact information, but you do."

Dapeng opened and closed his mouth two or three times.

"Ping Sheng, that's Wanda's son-in-law. He's someone who treats 500 million as pocket money. Why would he invest in us?"

"Just because he treats 500 million as pocket money."

Ren Pingsheng stood up and walked to the window. On the street below, the evening rush hour traffic was a long line of cars, their red taillights stretching out in a continuous line.

"Five hundred million sounds like a lot, but his father gave a condition—he was allowed to fail twice. What does this mean? It means that Wang Jianlin's expectation for this money wasn't to make money, but to pay for his son's tuition."

"Pay tuition?"

"Yes, let's see if he can work independently. In this case, what he invests in isn't important; what's important is that his father thinks he has good judgment."

Dapeng smacked his lips.

"You mean...we're not going to ask for money, but to save face for him?"

"Pretty much. A rich second-generation who just returned from the UK made his first investment in the hottest original content team on the entire internet. This story sounds better than investing in ten restaurant chains."

Dapeng fell silent, processing the logic.

Ren Pingsheng turned around.

"I need three million, and I'll give up twenty percent. That's the most I can offer."

"Twenty? They couldn't even reach an agreement in Jinan for thirty-five. Do you think a rich kid born with a silver spoon in his mouth would accept twenty?"

"He will."

Why?

"Because he doesn't lack money, what he lacks is a project that can make him stand out. And we are currently the only proven original short video team on the entire Chinese internet."

Da Peng remained silent for a full minute.

The car horns outside the window were blaring intermittently, and someone was cursing.

"I know someone," Da Peng lowered his voice, "who used to work in Wanda Commercial Properties and has now left to work in private equity. He mentioned it to me when we were drinking last month, saying he had met the young master of the Wang family once."

"Is it possible to get someone to meet up with?"

"I don't know, but I'll give it a try."

Within three days.

"You're here again."

"Brother Peng, Alex will officially take over the content center on November 1st. Our people, our projects, and our client relationships will all be under his control. If I haven't left Sohu by then, it won't be up to me to decide when I leave."

Dapeng took the cigarette pack out of his pocket and then put it back in.

"Okay, I'll make the call tonight."

After Dapeng left, the office area fell silent. Luo Hongming and Liu Hao had left sometime earlier; the screen on the desk was still lit, the editing timeline frozen on the last frame.

After packing her things, Sister Zhao came over and stood opposite Ren Pingsheng for a while.

"My life"

"Um."

"What are your plans regarding Kobayashi's situation?"

"No action will be taken."

Sister Zhao did not expect this answer.

"He leaked the information to Alex—"

"So what if he's scared?" Ren Pingsheng shut down the computer. "It's normal for him to be afraid. I don't know what Alex promised him, but it's definitely safer than him following me."

Sister Zhao pursed her lips.

"Aren't you angry?"

"What's the use of getting angry? I'm one less person now that he's gone. Even if I yell at him, he won't come back." Ren Pingsheng packed his laptop into his bag. "Sister Zhao, what about you?"

"What about me?"

"What are your plans after Alex takes over?"

Sister Zhao picked at a loose thread on the bag strap with her fingers, picking at it several times.

"I've been with Sohu for eight years. My housing fund, social security, and annual leave are all calculated based on my length of service. You want me to jump ship and start all over again..."

"I didn't ask you to jump. I'm asking what you think yourself."

Sister Zhao raised her head and looked at Ren Pingsheng.

This young man, who was only a few years older than his son, never spoke in a manner befitting a junior.

"Let me think about it some more."

"Okay, no rush."

Ren Pingsheng slung his bag over his shoulder and walked towards the door.

He stopped halfway through his journey without looking back.

"Sister Zhao, could you do me a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Tomorrow, export a complete data report for all projects in the innovation team, including play counts, completion rates, user profiles, and conversion data—down to the smallest detail possible."

"Who is it for?"

"Show this to someone who spent 500 million yuan on tuition."