Chapter 22 - Deny someone once the deed is done

"What are you up to, Mr. Lu?" Qingqing followed him into the room, then let out a startled gasp as Lu Liang swept her up into his arms by the waist and carried her toward the bathroom. After a frenzy of passion that blurred the lines between day and night, Lu Liang stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a bathrobe, leaving Qingqing to tidy up the mess alone. He stretched out on the balcony sofa, the river breeze brushing against his face. He lit a post-coital cigarette, his fingertips tapping lightly on the table, his mood thoroughly pleasant. The worst-case scenario he'd worried about hadn't come to pass; instead, he'd stumbled upon an unexpected windfall. He still had a hypothesis to test, though—one that would have to wait four more days. ... Early the next morning, Lu Liang drove Qingqing to Haomeng Film Production Company once again. They exchanged contact information, and he gave her pert rear a playful pat. "Off you go to work. I've got some business to discuss with your Mr. Wu." "Shall I get you a cup of tea first?" Qingqing beamed at him. A resident of Tomson Riviera and owner of a Bentley—she was convinced Lu Liang was her knight in shining armor, her golden ticket to success. "Go on." Lu Liang smiled, but the moment she turned to leave, his expression instantly turned serious. He pulled out a project proposal. "Mr. Wu, I'm quite interested in this one. Could you put me in touch with the team behind it?" A 5-million-yuan investment for a potential 120-million-yuan return in seven months—a 24x profit margin. It was an offer he couldn't possibly refuse. "Mahua FunAge?" Wu Tianzheng's brows knitted together. "They're a fledgling outfit. Let me dig up some information on them for you." "They only set up their film division last year; before that, they were all about stage plays. This movie is actually adapted from one of their theatrical productions." "Are you certain you want to reach out to them, Mr. Lu?" Mahua FunAge's general manager, Zhang Chen, had approached Wu Tianzheng several times before, begging for connections to secure investment. Wu Tianzheng had never been optimistic about the project. After all, it was the first film by a bunch of rookies from the theater world, adapted from a stage play whose plot was already familiar to its existing audience. There would be no element of surprise, no sense of anticipation for viewers who'd seen the original play. Mahua FunAge had limited influence, and the film's cast, director, and screenwriters were all core members of their theater troupe. To Wu Tianzheng's eyes, it looked like nothing more than a reckless, spur-of-the-moment venture. Lu Liang was Meng Changkun's friend—Wu Tianzheng couldn't in good conscience let him march headfirst into what seemed like a guaranteed money pit. "I've seen the stage play, and I thought it was quite good. Please, do me a favor and arrange the meeting." Lu Liang knew Wu Tianzheng meant well, but he trusted that voice from the future implicitly. If Wu Tianzheng couldn't see the film's box office potential, it only proved his lack of foresight. In fact, it said a lot about the poor judgment of most investors—otherwise, this dark horse of a project wouldn't have been left languishing without funding, giving Lu Liang the perfect window of opportunity. "Very well, I'll make the call for you." Wu Tianzheng sighed, abandoning his attempts to dissuade him. He picked up the phone and dialed Zhang Chen. "Mr. Zhang's in Beijing right now. When he heard you're interested in investing, he booked a flight to Shanghai for noon. When would be a good time for you to meet, Mr. Lu?" "How about 3 p.m. this afternoon? Set up the appointment and send me the address—I'll head over there directly." "What about Qingqing? Should I have her tag along, or would you prefer to bring Bai Xiaoqin, like yesterday?" Wu Tianzheng asked cautiously. He'd thought it over carefully—surely Lu Liang was looking to promote someone; otherwise, why would he sink money into such a risky project? "Don't bother with Bai Xiaoqin. As for Qingqing… I'd appreciate it if you could spare her a few resources down the line." A film that could turn a 20-million-yuan budget into 1.441 billion yuan at the box office—Lu Liang had no intention of meddling with it. He'd let it unfold naturally. If he forced a role onto the cast and ended up tanking the film, it would be like losing over 100 million yuan in the blink of an eye. "Would you like to take a look at some other proposals, Mr. Lu?" Wu Tianzheng didn't press the issue. He'd seen plenty of men turn cold and distant after getting what they wanted. Besides, he'd already promised Qingqing preferential treatment and a handsome bonus for keeping Lu Liang company at the dinner party the night before. "Not today—I've got other business to attend to later." Zhao Haisheng from Guotai Securities had just called to inform him that he now qualified for a VIP trading room, and asked him to come in at his convenience to complete the formalities. A VIP trading room at Guotai Securities was more than just a status symbol—it came with a host of tangible perks. Previously, Lu Liang had used a standard trading account, which charged a commission of 0.03% per transaction. On a 10-million-yuan trade, that would amount to 3,000 yuan in fees—and it wasn't a one-time charge, but a cost incurred with every single trade. Upgrading to a VIP account would slash the commission rate to just 0.012%, and grant him access to financial derivatives like margin trading and securities lending. Shortly after, Lu Liang and Wu Tianzheng walked out of the office chatting amicably, only to bump into Bai Xiaoqin, who'd come to sign her contract. "Mr. Lu! Mr. Wu! Good morning!" A flicker of joy crossed Bai Xiaoqin's face. After returning home the previous day, she'd received an offer for the fourth female lead role. She knew it was all thanks to Lu Liang, and the thought had kept her tossing and turning anxiously half the night. Bai Xiaoqin had heard countless stories about the unspoken rules of the industry, especially on low-budget internet film sets like Ouija Board vs. Ghost Board, which had a budget of less than 10 million yuan. Stories of producers inviting actresses to their hotel rooms late at night under the pretense of "script readings"—and if the actresses refused, they'd be subjected to petty harassment the next day, or even have all their scenes cut after months of hard work. Such things were far too common. Yet, the night before, Bai Xiaoqin hadn't received a single call. It had earned Lu Liang a tiny sliver of her goodwill—just a tiny sliver, though. "Do a good job with your role. I look forward to seeing your performance." Lu Liang nodded at her, ignoring Qingqing completely as he walked out of Haomeng Film Production Company. "I'll work my hardest!" Bai Xiaoqin's face lit up with excitement. She bowed deeply, watching Lu Liang until his figure faded into the distance. Qingqing walked past her, her face icy as she let out a scoff. "Hmph. How naive. If hard work alone was enough, there wouldn't be so many struggling extras out there." She was seething with resentment. Lu Liang had walked right past her without a second glance—proof positive that he was the kind of man who turned his back on you after a tryst. "Senior, did I do something wrong?" Bai Xiaoqin was straightforward by nature, and couldn't understand why she was being targeted. "Xiao Bai, pay her no mind." Wu Tianzheng shot Qingqing a sharp glare and called her into his office. "There's a spread in next month's Harper's Bazaar featuring several new fashion lines. Get yourself ready—you'll be heading to Beijing to assist with the shoot." Seeing that Qingqing still looked unconvinced, Wu Tianzheng sighed and said earnestly, "Qingqing, don't overthink things. Rich men aren't fools. Mr. Lu is no different from all those other wealthy bosses you've met before—Mr. Liu, Mr. Zheng… they're all cut from the same cloth." He had no idea what had transpired the night before, or what Lu Liang had said to Qingqing. But judging by their attitudes that day, it was clear Lu Liang hadn't taken their fling seriously—whereas Qingqing had foolishly believed every word. Qingqing bit her lip hard, digging her manicured nails into her palm. Finally, she let out a defeated sigh. "I understand, Mr. Wu." "Good. Off you go." Wu Tianzheng nodded slightly, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. A girl who knew when to bend and when to stand tall, who was willing to put in the work and make sacrifices—he was confident Qingqing would make it big someday. Meanwhile, Lu Liang arrived at the Guotai Securities branch. It was Saturday, a non-trading day, and the number of investors coming in to open accounts or check market updates was noticeably sparse. Zhao Haisheng had been waiting for him at the entrance since early morning. When he saw Lu Liang stepping out of his Bentley, he couldn't help but gawk in envy. It seemed like just yesterday that Lu Liang had been a nobody, scraping together a mere 250,000 yuan for margin trading. Now, in the blink of an eye, he was a multi-millionaire eligible for a VIP account. And if it weren't for his "early bird advantage" of having taken Lu Liang on as a client when he was still small-time, he never would have landed a high-value client like this. "Brother Liang, park your car right here." Zhao Haisheng quickly composed himself, putting on a smile as he hurried over to remove the parking bollard and clear a spot for him. He'd been in the securities industry for seven years, and had seen and heard countless rags-to-riches stories. He'd long since come to terms with the role that timing, fate, and luck played in life. Some people, some opportunities—they were simply not worth envying. All he could do was focus on doing his job well.