The next day.
At the investment promotion event.
Sang Lu was moving display boards from the preparation room when the door was pushed open.
Before the person appeared, their voice rang out first.
"Ugh, disgusting!"
Following the sound, she saw Yu Xiaoke walk in.
Sang Lu: "Who got you so worked up?"
Yu Xiaoke: "Who else? Luo Kai from Team B! He’s been camped out at the VIP section, rushing to schmooze every big shot who takes a seat, pitching their team’s new project."
The industry was in a downturn, and competition was fierce.
Tensions simmered between project teams at the station, with underhanded tactics far from uncommon.
Some even poached investors already secured by other teams to fund their own projects—a practice explicitly banned by the station.
Sang Lu handed Yu Xiaoke a bottle of water.
"Have some water and cool down."
Yu Xiaoke gulped down half the bottle and kept venting:
"Can’t they just compete fairly based on who has the better show concept? This is infuriating! Is there no way to put these bootlickers in their place? Heaven help us—"
Sang Lu chuckled: "There is."
Yu Xiaoke: "What way?"
Sang Lu: "Starting now, let’s pray together that the station hires more Gen-Z newcomers next year. Cleaning up the workplace and purging this toxic culture—it’s all on them."
"..." Yu Xiaoke gave a bitter laugh. "Sang Lu, how can you joke at a time like this? Our project is more about heart than hype. If we flop at securing sponsors, we might not even get a B rating."
TV stations and streaming platforms assigned initial ratings to in-house dramas and variety shows, ranging from B, A, S, to S+. The higher the tier, the more priority and resources were allocated to production and promotion.
"Relax~" Sang Lu reassured her breezily. "We just need to do our part. Some discerning sponsor will recognize our show’s worth~"
Seeing Yu Xiaoke still sulking, Sang Lu switched tactics:
"Besides, any sponsor who can be poached clearly wasn’t sold on our concept to begin with. Imagine the nightmare if they meddled later—stuffing the show with nepotism hires or turning it into one long ad break. Wouldn’t that be worse?"
"True," Yu Xiaoke conceded, somewhat comforted. "You’ve got a point."
Mid-conversation, a staff member suddenly rushed over.
"Emergency—"
Sang Lu’s heart lurched.
In the world of TV production, few phrases were more dreaded than "emergency." It usually heralded disasters: diva tantrums, lost scripts, formatted footage...
"What happened?"
Staff: "There’s an issue with your team’s promo video. We’re fixing it now—could you take a look? See if there’s any way to salvage it?"
......
At the venue entrance, a tall, striking figure appeared.
The man wore an impeccably tailored black suit, his sharp features cool and detached, radiating an aura of unapproachable aloofness as he stepped inside.
The surrounding chatter dimmed for a beat, all eyes drawn to him.
Spotting Feng Yan from a distance, the station head hurried over to greet him.
Though the event had attracted many corporate heavyweights, Feng Yan’s presence still sent a ripple of surprise through the crowd.
Whispers broke out.
—"This year’s investor meet must be top-tier if they got President Feng to attend?"
—"I’ve only seen him in magazines. He’s even more striking in person. What a shame I didn’t bring my press camera today."
——"Is Feng Corporation's investment division venturing into the entertainment sector?"
——"Keep a close eye on which project catches President Feng's interest. We'll follow his lead."
Amid the murmurs of the crowd,
the man lowered his gaze and strode forward calmly,
taking the seat arranged for him by the organizers—
front and center in the first row.
The venue's lights cascaded over him, casting a long shadow from Feng Yan's broad shoulders and lean frame, blending with the light to accentuate the composed elegance of a mature man.
The investment conference had already been underway for over ten minutes.
On stage, the host spoke with fervor, outlining the television station's future vision and new directions.
Yet, Feng Yan's presence shifted the focus of the attendees.
Their attention drifted from "scouting worthwhile projects to invest in" to "monitoring which project President Feng spared a second glance for..."
The man at the center of their discussions remained indifferent, his expression cool as Fang Assistant stood quietly by his side.
Feng Yan casually picked up a promotional booklet from the table and flipped through it.
Suddenly, his gaze darkened.
His fingers paused mid-turn.
His eyes lingered on a particular page.
He recognized the design—it matched the storyboard Sang Lu had been arranging every night in their living room.
Unlike the previous pages, which heavily promoted dating shows and celebrity travel programs,
her team's proposal lacked flashy gimmicks or eye-catching lists of guest stars.
Instead, it was tucked away at the very end of the "Recommended Variety Projects" section.
The title read: Who Says You’re Just an Extra?
Synopsis: A spotlight on the unnoticed yet brilliantly skilled performers in film and television...
Feng Yan skimmed further down.
The staff credits were extensive, listed by seniority.
Near the bottom, he spotted Sang Lu's name.
His gaze softened imperceptibly.
As a businessman, he instinctively scrutinized the project’s description with a critical eye.
After a long moment,
his expression gradually eased.
The proposal was both professional and innovative, backed by clear market research data—not just superficial online statistics. It avoided oversaturated genres and, though unassuming at first glance, tapped into an untapped niche.
Feng Yan’s dark, fathomless eyes returned to Sang Lu’s name.
For some reason, an image flashed in his mind—Sang Lu bustling around their living room in bright, cheerful loungewear, organizing materials.
So this was what she’d been working on.
Then it struck him: she had once, with sparkling eyes, talked about the kind of variety shows she loved.
At the time, he’d dismissed it as casual chatter, barely listening.
Had he ever truly understood her?
A faint commotion sounded nearby.
Feng Yan lifted his gaze, glancing toward the source.
Near the stage’s control booth, staff huddled together, seemingly handling an unexpected issue.
Just then,
a splash of vibrant color darted into view.
