The scandal about Hu Xiaoyu being "kept" by Xu Feng had caused quite a stir, and Liu Luanzhou had heard of it too.
But he didn't intervene.
He simply observed from a distance — not because he didn't care, but because he couldn't quite figure out where Yu Tan stood on the matter. Until that was clear, it was better to wait and see.
So when Director Ren publicly spoke up for Hu Xiaoyu, Liu naturally knew.
When Li Yu called, raging that his role had been "stolen" by Hu Xiaoyu, disdain dripping from every word, Liu's tone on the phone cooled.
"Li Yu, Director Ren never promised you that role. You each rely on your own ability—"
Li Yu's voice went shrill. "Cousin! You're defending him again! You said you'd help me get into Director Ren's movie! I'm your real cousin!"
Liu replied evenly, "I've already spoken to Director Ren. Aside from the leads and Hu Xiaoyu's role, the other parts are open for audition. You can try any of them — if you pass, you're in."
Li Yu nearly exploded. "Who wants leftovers from Hu Xiaoyu? I want that role!"
Liu didn't indulge him. "Then fight for it yourself. I won't interfere again."
He wasn't the sole investor in Ren's film, and an investment existed to make profit. Li Yu could be willful, but not to the point of hurting business.
Li Yu spat, furious: "You won't help me, but you'll help him! Do you like him or something?"
Liu said simply, "That's not something you should ask," and hung up.
Yes — he did like Hu Xiaoyu.
But that didn't cloud his sense of right and wrong.
In his heart, he knew who the true usurper was: Li Yu, who had stolen his cousin's parents' love, leaving Hu Xiaoyu without a home he wanted to return to.
After Chu Yin officially became Hu Xiaoyu's agent, she brought her entire old team with her.
Thanks to that, Fish Leap Studio quickly ran like a proper company.
She told Hu Xiaoyu that she'd spoken again with Director Ren. The film was slated to start shooting in mid-August. It was early July now — they had a one-month gap.
A month wasn't long enough to film anything substantial, so Chu Yin suggested a variety show — a way to ride the heat from the recent trending buzz and boost his popularity.
Hu Xiaoyu's spiritual energy intake had grown lately, and he had no objection to appearing on TV — the more humans who saw him, the better.
Chu Yin laid out several show proposals for him to choose freely.
Knowing he was good at cooking, she leaned toward recommending A Beautiful Life, a show where celebrity chefs competed in kitchens.
With his face and his skill, he'd easily win hearts.
But Hu Xiaoyu shook his head. He'd promised Yu Tan that he would only cook for him.
A promise was a promise.
He rarely hesitated with choices. In no time, he pointed at another one — The Light of Heritage.
Chu Yin frowned. That program focused on promoting traditional culture — heavy on knowledge, light on entertainment. It tested not only talent but also cultural grounding. One slip-up and you became a meme.
In previous seasons, some fresh-faced idols had managed to charm the audience, but any industry veteran could tell the show had gone easy on them — heavily scripted.
That was normal; all variety shows had scripts.
But this season's theme was calligraphy and painting — a hands-on challenge. If you couldn't deliver, the internet would devour you.
Chu Yin hadn't meant for him to actually pick that show. She'd only brought it to gauge which field might interest him, so she could plan future "cultured" publicity angles.
But Hu Xiaoyu looked at her seriously and said, "I can."
He really could — calligraphy and painting both. Yu Tan had taught him.
Chu Yin knew he didn't lie, but still asked someone to fetch rice paper and ink. She wanted to see for herself.
She wasn't an art expert, but the way he ground ink and prepared the brush already carried a quiet rhythm, a grace that made her oddly moved.
When he finally lifted the brush, his whole demeanor stilled — focus radiating from him.
In one fluid motion, he wrote five bold characters: 鱼跃工作室 (Fish Leap Studio).
When she asked if she could have it, he nodded.
Chu Yin took the calligraphy straight to an acquaintance for appraisal that same day.
The appraiser, a well-known name in the art scene, stared at the work in astonishment and insisted on meeting the artist.
Efficient as ever, Chu Yin had the contract for The Light of Heritage ready within two days.
It was the first project since the studio's founding. Thrilled, Hu Xiaoyu immediately called Yu Tan, bubbling about the good news — even breaking down the appearance fee and how he'd divide the earnings.
Yu Tan chuckled when the boy promised to "treat him to dinner" with his first paycheck. "All right."
They chatted for a bit. But once he hung up, the warmth in his expression vanished. His eyes went cold as he turned toward Li Yu, whom A Jiu had just escorted in.
Li Yu didn't know why Yu Tan had summoned him. His nerves were tight, though a flicker of hope sparked inside — perhaps this was an opportunity.
But before he could ask, Yu Tan took a phone call — and his expression…
Li Yu couldn't help blurting, "Was that Hu Xiaoyu?"
Yu Tan lifted his gaze, eyes sharp as blades. "Sit."
Li Yu didn't move, certain now that the caller had been Hu Xiaoyu.
Why?
Why did he always get everything?
The resentment boiled up. Emboldened by desperation, he forced his face into stiffness. "Young Master Yu, you had me brought here — what for?"
Yu Tan lit a cigarette. He rarely smoked these days — Hu Xiaoyu hated the smell.
But without that little fool around, the office felt too empty. He'd started again.
He didn't bother answering Li Yu's snide tone. Instead, he gave A Jiu a glance.
A Jiu twisted Li Yu's arm and threw him onto the sofa in one clean motion.
Pain shot through Li Yu's shoulder. His face went pale.
For the first time, he realized neither Yu Tan nor A Jiu were like the polite, polished people he usually dealt with. They didn't play by his world's rules.
Yu Tan tapped the desk with his finger. On it lay a folder, some photos, and a few printed WeChat screenshots.
"Look. Do you recognize these?"
The photos showed Hu Xiaoyu and Xu Feng outside the club — taken from security footage Yu Tan's people had verified as authentic.
The fool might think the storm had passed, but Yu Tan believed in finishing things clean.
These papers made it clear: Li Yu had been the one who orchestrated the whole mess — the hand that pulled Xu Feng's strings to drag Hu Xiaoyu down.
His timing had been perfect. If it had been anyone else, some nameless newcomer, they'd have been ruined beyond recovery.
Li Yu glanced at the files. His spine locked up, cold sweat gathering as he looked at Yu Tan in fear.
He had always admired Yu Tan's ruthlessness, seeing it as the mark of a powerful man — but facing that ruthlessness himself, he was frozen.
Yu Tan remembered the first time Hu Xiaoyu had met him — daring to walk straight in and sit on his sofa. Then he looked at Li Yu now, trembling. A faint, contemptuous smile crossed his face.
He flicked the ash from his cigarette. "No need to be afraid. I won't touch you this time. Consider it repaying a favor."
Li Yu blinked, confused. "...What favor?"