Chapter 165: Taking You to See the World
I planted a seed, hoping it would grow into fruit. You are my little, little apple—no matter how much I love you, it’s never enough.
Zhou You hummed all the way back. Seeing him in such high spirits, Sun Li couldn’t help but smile happily. She probably guessed why he was so cheerful.
The more they interacted, the deeper Sun Li’s love for Zhou You grew.
Documentaries and the music industry were both areas where Zhou You felt stuck. Documentaries had no choice but to develop slowly. The music industry, on the other hand, had been completely ruined by big capital—everyone was just chasing easy money, churning out garbage.
Day after day, they polluted the public’s ears. Though the music market was becoming more fragmented and audiences were divided into niches, couldn’t they at least put out some songs the masses actually liked? Instead, they kept milking niche audiences dry, almost to the bone.
Just as they were nearing home, Zhou You suddenly snapped out of it, sitting up straight and asking urgently, “Did your mom leave?”
Seeing his reaction, Sun Li couldn’t help but laugh. “Haha, are you scared of my mom?”
“Not scared, just haven’t figured out how to face her yet,” Zhou You admitted, backing down.
Still, this was a hurdle he couldn’t avoid. He’d have to face it sooner or later, but for now, he hadn’t decided what to do. He’d take it one step at a time. A living person wouldn’t be suffocated by a little pee.
“She left long ago. She went back to work after the New Year—she hasn’t retired yet.”
“Did she ask about the house?”
“Yeah, I said it was rented, and that was that.” At the time, Sun Li was still waiting for her graduate school results and didn’t feel like talking much.
They opened the door, showered, and went to sleep. Zhou You didn’t say much, just demonstrated some martial arts routines. Vigorous and fluid, stretching every muscle.
Zhang Yiming was now brimming with confidence. When he heard Zhou You was in Beijing, he insisted on inviting him over for a visit. On the way, he chattered endlessly about download numbers, user retention, and how investors were now coming to him on their own—no longer the desperate nobody begging for help back in the day.
“We’re still the best of brothers. Without your support, I couldn’t have built this up, and I wouldn’t have the leverage to haggle with these investors. Damn it, they’re all wolves in sheep’s clothing, some even trying to take control!” Zhang Yiming grew angrier as he spoke.
“Don’t rush. The future will be even better. Soon, more investors will be begging you,” Zhou You said with a sigh.
When they arrived at the company, it had expanded significantly. They’d rented the neighboring office building, finally looking like a proper company.
Many of the old-timers got excited when they saw Zhou You and came over to greet him. They’d dealt with plenty of investors, but Zhou You was the easiest to talk to—the most approachable, without any airs.
Other investors mostly acted superior, with a condescending attitude that made people sick. They were just in it for the money, yet they put on a savior’s facade. Wanting it all, demanding more, never satisfied. Greedy beyond measure.
Zhou You gathered all the old employees for a small get-together to catch up. As he bragged a little, they learned that the recent blockbuster movies were all his investments, and they couldn’t help but gasp in amazement.
They started egging him on, asking him to take them out to see the world. Zhou You waved his hand grandly. “Easy. There’s a celebration banquet tomorrow for *Beijing Meets Seattle*. Everyone’s invited!”
The programmers were thrilled. “Mr. Zhou, can we get photos and autographs? I like Tang Wei.”
“Haha, no problem. Just don’t drool when you see her.” Seeing their flushed faces, Zhou You couldn’t help but recall her graceful figure.
He pulled out his phone and sent a message: “Shangri-La, Room 911.” She was definitely in Beijing now. Tomorrow was the celebration banquet, and all the main cast would be there.
A few minutes later, he got a reply: “I’ll cover the room fee.” Zhou You smiled knowingly, impressed. She was independent like that—never taking advantage.
After a hearty meal, it was time for some exercise. Both were seasoned veterans, skipping the young folks’ games and getting straight to the point. It was a battle of skill and strength. Tang Wei lost again, badly.
“At tomorrow’s banquet, some people from a company I invested in will be there. They’re all coming for you,” Zhou You said, glancing at Tang Wei, who was lying motionless on the bed again.
“Oh? What do you mean?” Her expression shifted, her tone turning wary.
“They want to see their goddess, get photos with you. Please do me the honor,” Zhou You said, guessing she was overthinking things.
“Do they know their goddess can’t beat anyone else?” Tang Wei finally broke into a smile. It wasn’t that she was paranoid—things like this weren’t unheard of in the entertainment industry. A face of innocence, a life of indulgence.
The next day, Zhang Yiming showed up with his crew, right on time. But Zhou You almost didn’t recognize them.
These programmers usually dressed casually—sweats and sneakers in the cold, sandals and shorts in the heat. Now, their hair was freshly cut, their clothes were much sharper, and many were even in suits. At first glance, it looked a bit off, but their excitement was undeniable.
Programmers used to be a highly sought-after profession, even holding a solid spot in the dating market. As some refined girls would say, “Programmers are great—they earn a lot, have no free time, and aren’t physically fit. Perfect tools.”
Later, some people even targeted them for marriage scams, until one was driven to jump off a building, exposing the truth. When Zhou You read about it, he thought, even movies wouldn’t dare to write this.
A bunch of homebodies, ogling the beauties of the entertainment industry, acting like country bumpkins. Sure, the company had its so-called pretty girls, but compared to the entertainment world, there was no contest.
Beauty was a resource. To gauge how well an industry was doing, just look at how many attractive women were in it. Take banking or real estate sales, for example. Beautiful women were like animals following the grass and water.
Tang Wei gave Zhou You plenty of face, making a special trip to their table to toast. She took a small sip, and the whole table downed their drinks, making her laugh. Then, everyone got a photo with her.
The programmers were shy, standing stiffly with their hands clasped in front of them, faces tinged with embarrassment. After the photos, they immediately shared them in company groups, family chats, and friend circles, posting on social media first.
“At the *Beijing Meets Seattle* celebration banquet, got a photo with the goddess.” “Boss took us along, got a photo at the banquet.” “She’s even more beautiful in person than in the movie!”
Watching these excited people, Zhou You felt that this won more hearts than money ever could. No wonder they often got scammed later—too little experience, unable to tell a fake from a genuine girl. They needed more exposure.
The movie’s final box office was 520 million yuan, breaking the record for domestic romance films. Another successful small-budget gamble.
Zhou You had a 50% stake. After deducting expenses, he pocketed about 120 million yuan. In less than a year, nearly ten times the profit—a massive win. His reputation soared. Whether it was luck or sharp insight, many directors were now lining up to invite him to invest in their films. Before the celebration banquet even ended, acquaintances were already queuing up to discuss investments.
A roc rises with the wind one day, soaring ninety thousand miles.