Peninsula: A Max-Level Forward's Leisurely Life

On the other end of that late-night phone call was the Lee family's key capital operator between Wall Street and Seoul.

This international dedicated line usually only handles financial mergers and acquisitions worth tens of millions of US dollars, but today it was unusually used to handle a minor matter concerning an artist from a South Korean entertainment company.

The laughter from the other end sounded like a ghostly surprise. "It's really strange that Young Master Li would actually ask me to do work for him."

Lee Chi-hoon ignored such meaningless pleasantries.

He cut to the chase: "I've run into a little trouble."

He then succinctly explained Choi Sulli's current situation and SM Entertainment's exploitative practices that treated people like dirt.

The logic of capital operation is always ruthless and profit-driven.

In the eyes of those company executives, these young and vibrant female celebrities are nothing more than money-printing machines on an assembly line.

Lee Chi-hoon understood these unspoken rules better than anyone, so he never intended to reason with those people in the first place.

He asked calmly, "Will applying pressure solve the problem?"

Leaning against the edge of the bar, he casually fiddled with the clumsy empty gift box with his right hand.

This is not him showing off his old money capital.

He simply wanted to give the little girl, who was almost out of breath, some comfortable breathing space.

If things can be easily suppressed, there's no need to make a big fuss about it.

The trader on the other end, a veteran of the business world, immediately understood the underlying meaning of protecting his own.

The laughter carried the shrewdness unique to the capital world: "Simply applying pressure is only a temporary solution, not a permanent one."

The opponent immediately changed their strategy and presented a decisive plan.

"The easiest way is to acquire some shares directly in the secondary market or through underhanded channels."

"Once we become one of our own and have the power to make a decision, we can take all of Miss Cui's schedules and schedules separately."

"She can rest whenever she wants, and if she wants to see you, no one in the company dares to say a word against it."

When Lee Chi-hoon heard the second half of the sentence, the smile in his eyes finally melted away.

It must be said, these old foxes did a brilliant job. They completely nipped all the subsequent troubles in the bud.

He casually tossed the lighter in his hand onto the wooden bar counter and settled the matter on the spot: "Okay, let's do it your way."

"Hurry up."

The second day in Seoul was a rare sunny day.

But as Choi Sulli stood in front of SM Entertainment's headquarters, her mood was shrouded in an inescapable gloom.

She was wearing a black baseball cap pulled down, and stood frozen outside the revolving door for several minutes.

This place is no longer a shining stage for her to pursue her dreams.

She had long since become a bottomless black vortex. Once she stepped in, she was met with endless cold stares, scolding, and a barrage of announcements that showed no regard for her mental well-being.

She had already mentally prepared herself for the day when she would be verbally abused by all the company's senior management.

But as long as you can endure it, you can always grit your teeth and get through this hurdle.

She held her breath and, steeling herself, pushed open the door and went inside.

With his head down, he quickly made his way to the main conference room at the end of the corridor.

She froze the moment she pushed open the door.

The scene inside the house was so grand it was almost frightening.

The spacious conference room was filled not only with her direct agent and several core team members, but also with the company's top executives, who were usually elusive and aloof, surprisingly sitting in the head seat.

Those people usually look down on ordinary artists and wish they could vent their anger on them.

But today, these well-dressed business tycoons all gave her a friendly smile.

The higher-ups even stood up from their chairs, speaking in a friendly but unsettling tone: "Shirley, come in and sit down."

Choi Sulli walked stiffly to the seat, her limbs numb, and remained motionless. She gripped the hem of her clothes tightly with both hands, her fingers almost numb, ready to defend herself against a sudden outburst of anger.

What happened next completely shattered her original worldview.

The executive who usually only knew how to strictly demand that celebrities maintain their figures actually poured her a glass of warm water and carefully placed it next to her.

Then the executive, in a high-pitched, incredibly gentle voice, asked, "How have you been feeling lately?"

Sulli was completely dumbfounded. She glanced at her silent manager next to her, and then at the executive with a concerned expression.

"It's...it's alright," he stammered as he answered them.

The higher-ups looked at her slightly pale face and put on a pained expression.

"The company's schedule was too tight before, and we didn't take your mental capacity into consideration at all."

"We had a deep reflection in our meeting today and realized that we still need to put your personal health first."

"How about we reduce those recent, messy commercial exposures for now?"

The atmosphere in the conference room had never been better; there was no pressure, no coercion, only gentle, consultative tones.

The agent stood beside her, nodding repeatedly without uttering a single complaint. He even went over to pull up the cushion of her slipping chair.

Sulli sat in the comfortable boss's chair, completely bewildered. She secretly pinched her thigh and gasped in pain.

I've confirmed that this isn't a dream.

But how did these cold-blooded capitalists, who devour people without spitting out the bones, suddenly become living bodhisattvas overnight?

Ten minutes later.

This seemingly magical internal meeting ended in perfect harmony.

Sulli walked out of the meeting room in a daze and sat down on a row of chairs by the window in the corridor.

She leaned back in her chair, breathing in the fresh air outside.

What happened today is too bizarre; those capitalist vampires can't suddenly change their ways and learn to be human.

In this cold, impersonal circle where only the exchange of interests matters, such a humble change in attitude can only happen in one way.

That is, someone took something absolutely irresistible and smashed it hard onto their desk.

And the person she recently met has this incredible ability and a reason to help her sort out this mess.

All things considered, there's only that one.

She took out her phone and opened the chat window she checked dozens of times every day without hesitation.

He tapped his two thumbs rapidly on the screen to vent his inner panic.

Lee Ji-hoon, what exactly did you do behind my back?!

The message was sent out within seconds.

A prompt indicating that typing is in progress immediately appeared at the top of the screen.

Has your company finally learned how to behave properly today?

Li Chixun's reply was so confident and self-assured that you could practically smell his schadenfreude even through the screen.

Choi Sulli almost laughed out of anger when she saw this line of text. This man's ability to feign ignorance was simply unparalleled.

She gritted her teeth and continued typing out a series of stern questions.

Don't play innocent with me.

[The higher-ups who usually look down on me actually poured me water today and asked if I was alright.]

If this has nothing to do with you, I'll eat this chair in the hallway.

At the same time.

In that unsigned bar in Itaewon, the afternoon sun slanted across the wooden floor.

Lee Chi-hoon couldn't help but chuckle as he looked at the few lines of text on the screen that reeked of gunpowder.

He held the phone in one hand and replied rather casually.

Your appetite is a bit too good; be careful of indigestion.

[I'm just an ordinary athlete working and playing football in Germany; how could my reach be that far?]

I just sent those few lines of utter nonsense.

Sulli immediately sent over an emoji of an enraged kitten waving a knife.

It's obvious they don't believe a single punctuation mark.

Li Chixun didn't intend to explain to her in detail just how bloody and complex the underhanded operations in the capital market really are.

For a naive young girl like her, knowing too much about such authoritarian interference would only increase unnecessary psychological burden.

He switched the phone to his left hand, touched the edge of the phone, and typed out a reassuring summary.

In any case, you'll have much more free time from now on.

Don't waste this free time; come out for a drink anytime you want.

The corridor was brightly lit.

Choi Sulli stared at the last two sentences on the screen for a long time.

The gloom and frustration that had been building up because of the impending return to the company suddenly seemed unimportant after seeing this veiled promise.

Even if he stubbornly refused to admit it, she knew perfectly well that in this cold world, there was no one like him except this man who was always stubborn but soft-hearted.

No one would go to such lengths just to let her catch her breath.

She clutched her phone tightly, a smile already spreading across her face, like a child who had stolen the sweetest candy in the world.

The previous repression and fear had long been washed away by this genuine favoritism.

Just as she was still immersed in this immense sense of security and preparing to reply,

The sound of hurried footsteps came from the other end of the corridor.

Shirley looked up.

The agent, holding a dark blue hard-shell folder, walked briskly and attentively to her.

His extremely ingratiating and cautious attitude was a complete contrast to his previous domineering supervisor demeanor.

Her agent even stopped half a step away from her, his attitude extremely respectful: "Sherry, this is the latest free schedule that the company just adjusted in an emergency meeting."

Choi Sulli deftly put away her phone and took the folder with some suspicion.

When she opened the first page of the hard cover.

The paper was covered with densely printed tables, and the originally packed schedule of commercial performances, music shows, and miscellaneous appearances was cut by a stroke of the pen.

All that's left are long stretches of rest days marked in blue and free time.

And the most eye-catching one.

It's the top row of the form containing the top-level contract specifications, highlighted in bold red ink.

[Prioritize and cooperate with Choi Sulli's personal recovery arrangements; no one may interfere.]