Old Master Jiang raised a hand and flung the file to the floor. Closing his eyes, he said only three words: “Keep investigating.”
“…Yes.”
Worried, Butler Lin glanced at his employer, bent down to pick up the file, straightened it, and left the bedroom.
Sigh.
Truthfully, he wanted to persuade the old man to let the matter go. As the saying went, one couldn’t be the head of a family without pretending to be deaf and dumb. No matter what, it had happened more than twenty years ago. Why keep digging and make himself miserable?
Of course, since it hadn’t happened to him, he had no right to say anything.
But now that things had reached this point, it seemed it was time to choose a side.
After some thought, Butler Lin used his personal number to contact Young Master Yihua.
Early July.
After more than a month, the regular season finally came to an end, and RG·QY successfully advanced to the semifinals as a dark horse.
During that time, fan-made montages highlighting his looks, skills, and ratings appeared one after another. However, since he was extremely low-key and didn’t even have a single photo of his private life on social media, he only gained a limited amount of attention on short-video platforms.
Meanwhile, Qiu Ze and his group had concluded their nationwide tour across sixteen cities. However, since the domestic idol industry was not doing particularly well, and music-show stages were even rarer, MR had made a fortune off the reality talent show. Naturally, they had no intention of letting the members fade into obscurity. They wanted to keep profiting from the fan economy.
As a result, MR held an internal meeting specifically to discuss the future career plans of the boy group NOVE.
During the summer vacation, Jiang Chuling’s European study trip, which had been postponed for a year, was finally put on the schedule.
Considering that MR still needed Sister Xiaoqiu to hold down the fort, and that her older brother’s game would be released in August, she could only wave goodbye through her tears, take Yu Heng along, and go to Europe with her eldest brother.
Therefore, the meeting could only be attended by Qiuyun on the chairman’s behalf.
MR, conference room.
“Assistant Qiu, long time no see. You’re looking even better,” Liang Siqi said with a smile as she extended her hand.
Qiuyun shook it and replied warmly, “Long time no see, CEO Liang. I saw on your social feed that you went hiking recently. The scenery looked beautiful. Where did you go?”
“Western Sichuan. The scenery really was wonderful. I’ll send you my travel guide later.”
“That would be great. I’d appreciate it.”
After exchanging pleasantries, they took their seats. Everyone who needed to attend the meeting was already present.
Strictly speaking, for a discussion about the future development of the company’s artists, there was no need for Liang Siqi, the president, to attend personally.
But the popularity of these seven members had far exceeded expectations, especially Qiu Ze, who had originally come from MR.
On top of that, there was the chairman’s inexplicable aversion to the group, as well as his relationship with Assistant Qiu…
So Liang Siqi had decided to convene a formal meeting to discuss the matter seriously.
Naturally, the meeting was mainly focused on the three MR members currently in the group. Since the group was a limited-term group that would disband on its own after a year, the other four members were not artists signed to their company. They merely had temporary management contracts with MR, and once the profits from this year had been collected, that would more or less be the end of it.
After everyone sat down, the secretary opened the PowerPoint presentation and displayed it on the large screen.
The introductory slides outlined the current market environment, the age groups of domestic entertainment fans who were willing to spend money, as well as each member’s strengths, fan count, and appeal.
The three team leaders from the artists’ department took turns going up to the podium. They inserted their USB drives and explained their opinions.
One proposed focusing on concerts and music festivals a year later, strengthening fan loyalty first before gradually entering the acting industry.
Another suggested having them appear on variety shows throughout the coming year to build familiarity with the public, then moving into acting once the limited-term group disbanded and their general popularity had risen.
The third proposed sending them directly onto film and television sets. They could begin with supporting roles such as the second or third male lead to gain experience and establish a good reputation, then move on to leading roles in Grade-A productions with modest budgets. Those who developed a rapport with audiences could then be given better resources.
In short, although the three proposals took different routes, they all arrived at the same destination: once the limited-term group disbanded a year later, the members would be packaged up and sent into acting projects.
Qiuyun listened with a frown before asking, “I know there’s a hierarchy in the domestic entertainment industry, but why are all the members being given roughly the same path? Can’t their plans be customized individually?”
The artists’ department explained, “We can tilt the allocation of resources toward certain members during the later stages of the group’s activities, but doing that during the early stages would be tantamount to provoking the fans.”
It was clear that Qiuyun had been unaware of this.
“There’s really such a rule?”
“Our group has the debut rankings to keep things relatively stable. But if it were an established group launched by the company, fans wouldn’t just fight over the number of words each member got in a single, the amount of screen time they had in the music video, or whether the promotional materials showed them enough attention. They would even put the company’s official account on trial. And now that fan economics is so mature, every fanbase has fundraising and data teams. If possible, we’d rather not get into a confrontation with the fans from the very beginning.”
Of course, if a confrontation had already begun, they wouldn’t back down either.
After all, if the company gave in to one fanbase, the others would follow suit. That would be a disaster.
Qiuyun flipped through the materials in her hands. “Has the group’s schedule for the coming year been finalized?”
“It has.”
The secretary beside her handed over a document.
“May and June will be the tour. July, August, and September will be spent recording an outdoor variety show. October and November will be devoted to preparing a new album. In December, there’ll be a New Year’s Eve concert. In January and February, they’ll hold concerts across the mainland. March and April will be for an indoor variety show, followed by the farewell concert in May.”
Qiuyun looked over the schedule. It actually wasn’t particularly packed.
That was because, taking into account the members’ individual activities and other engagements arranged by their original companies, the group’s activities had been kept to a frequency of appearing a few times a month.
What they had just discussed referred to the additional work the company would arrange for its own artists outside the group’s activities.
Qiuyun thought for a moment. “Since our ultimate goal in training these artists is to send them into acting, let’s have all three of them attend acting classes in their spare time over the coming year. Once we see how they perform in class, we can decide on their future paths in the acting industry.”
The managers from the artists’ department exchanged glances.
Generally speaking, an artist’s schedule had to be finalized at least one or two months in advance. For major film and television productions or galas, letters of intent were often signed six months to a year and a half ahead of time.
Career planning for an artist needed to be done even earlier. Waiting until the limited-term group disbanded before making a decision would be far too late—they wouldn’t even get a taste of the soup by then.
Seeing everyone’s hesitation, Liang Siqi stepped in and explained the concern.
Qiuyun couldn’t help frowning.
MR was also a well-known film and television company in the industry. They were highly experienced at the process of cultivating trainees, attracting large numbers of fans, and then bundling idols with an established fanbase into acting projects.
But she knew her younger brother better than anyone. He had been sent to an agency to become a trainee and make his debut only because he couldn’t continue with his studies.
Putting aside everything else, actors at least needed to be intelligent enough to understand a script, didn’t they?
Qiu Ze hadn’t even completed his compulsory education—he was still six months short. It was obvious that he lacked that ability.
As his older sister, Qiuyun naturally didn’t want to see him struggle in a field that wasn’t suited to him, especially one in which every aspect of his performance would be exposed and scrutinized frame by frame.
However, Qiuyun did not voice her opinion in front of everyone. Instead, she went to CEO Liang’s office afterward and told her about her concerns.
