Inside the conference room of China Film Group, the atmosphere had gradually shifted from cautious negotiation to unmistakable excitement.
Luo Zheng had just finished outlining the core structure, thematic appeal, and commercial potential of A World Without Thieves. His explanation was not overly technical, but every key point landed precisely where it needed to—story tension, emotional resonance, audience relatability, and most importantly, market viability.
The moment he finished speaking, Wang Zhonglei reacted almost instantly.
"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!"
His praise came fast and loud, as if he had been waiting for the exact moment to unleash it. He went on and on, breaking down how the concept could resonate with mainland audiences, how the emotional core could attract repeat viewings, and how the casting possibilities alone could elevate the project to a major commercial success.
But after several minutes of enthusiastic commentary, even he started to feel his throat go dry.
Glancing sideways, he nudged Feng Xiaogang with his elbow, his eyes clearly saying: Your turn. Don't just sit there.
Feng Xiaogang understood immediately.
If there was one thing he had mastered over the years, it was knowing when to step forward—and when to lower himself. Before rising to prominence, he had spent years navigating the industry from the bottom, even working under figures like Wang Shuo. Compared to that, saying a few flattering words now was nothing.
"President Luo," Feng Xiaogang began with a smile, his tone sincere but measured, "your ability in storytelling is truly impressive. Just listening to the outline makes me want to pick up a camera immediately."
Luo Zheng leaned back slightly, studying him with interest.
"Oh? Director Feng is interested in directing this project?"
That single question instantly changed the atmosphere.
Before Feng Xiaogang could respond, Wang Zhonglei's expression shifted. Even Han Sanping's posture straightened slightly.
Ignoring Feng Xiaogang's barely concealed excitement, Wang Zhonglei quickly interjected, "President Luo… aren't you planning to direct it yourself? Xiaogang, he might not be—"
He didn't finish the sentence, but the meaning was clear.
This project existed because of Luo Zheng. The investment, the connections, the concept—everything pointed back to him. Letting someone else take the lead felt… risky.
Feng Xiaogang's smile stiffened for a moment.
Luo Zheng, however, simply waved his hand.
"This is a grounded, character-driven story," he said calmly. "That's exactly Director Feng's strength."
Han Sanping seemed ready to argue, but Luo Zheng spoke again before he could.
"Let's do this," he continued after a brief pause. "Director Feng and I will co-direct. I'll also take the role of Executive Producer."
Then, looking directly at Feng Xiaogang, he added with a faint smile, "Would Director Feng be willing to take a slightly secondary position?"
There was no hesitation.
"I'm willing! Of course I'm willing!"
Feng Xiaogang nodded repeatedly, almost too quickly, as if afraid the opportunity might disappear if he paused for even a second.
To him, this wasn't a compromise—it was an upgrade.
A project with a thirty-million investment was already beyond the scale of most films he had worked on. Just the previous year, his film Big Shot's Funeral had performed well, but even that didn't reach this level of financial backing.
And more importantly, the person above him wasn't just anyone—it was Luo Zheng.
A Hollywood-connected director, a rising industry force, and a capital-backed powerhouse.
Being second to someone like that?
There was no shame in it. If anything, it elevated his own position.
Seeing this, the tension in the room dissolved almost instantly.
"Good," Han Sanping said firmly, taking control of the moment. "Then it's settled. Xiao Luo will oversee the broader direction, and Director Feng will handle the detailed execution."
Wang Zhonglei nodded repeatedly, relief evident on his face. Realizing he had nearly undermined his own director earlier, he quickly patted Feng Xiaogang's shoulder, offering praise to smooth things over.
The rest of the discussion moved quickly.
The investment structure was finalized:
Total budget: 30 million RMB
China Film Group: 10 million (30% share)
Huayi Brothers: 10 million (30% share)
Blue Whale Entertainment: 10 million (40% share)
Despite contributing the same amount financially, Blue Whale secured a larger share due to Luo Zheng's script and creative leadership. More importantly, all intellectual property rights would belong to Blue Whale.
That detail didn't go unnoticed—but no one objected.
Because everyone in the room understood one thing:
Without Luo Zheng, this project wouldn't exist.
With the formalities concluded, Wang Zhonglei immediately stood up.
"President Luo, this calls for celebration," he said enthusiastically. "Let's go out for a meal. We can also discuss future collaborations."
Luo Zheng smiled—but shook his head.
"Another time," he replied. "I have something to take care of today."
Wang Zhonglei didn't push further. Some opportunities required patience.
Not long after, Luo Zheng arrived outside an apartment building.
Leaning casually against a car nearby was Liu Yan, dressed in sleek black leather, her appearance sharp and composed—almost like a character straight out of an action film.
"You've been here all day?" Luo Zheng asked.
"She hasn't come out," Liu Yan replied. "But there's movement inside. She's fine."
Luo Zheng nodded, then glanced at her outfit with interest.
"This look suits you," he said casually. "You should wear it more often."
Liu Yan rolled her eyes.
"Focus on your own situation," she shot back, pulling out a key and unlocking the door. "And don't forget why you're here."
She handed him a neatly packed set of fresh clothes.
Luo Zheng took them with a grin and stepped inside.
The moment the door closed, Liu Yan leaned against the wall outside.
At first, it was quiet.
Then—
Voices.
Raised, emotional, unmistakably intense.
"You bastard! Why did you come back?!"
"I knew you were lying!"
"Don't touch me—!"
The sound rose and fell, echoing faintly through the hallway.
Liu Yan exhaled slowly, choosing not to think too much about it.
An hour later, the door opened.
Luo Zheng stepped out, calmly adjusting his shirt as if nothing unusual had happened.
He caught Liu Yan's stunned expression and raised an eyebrow.
"Handled," he said simply.
Liu Yan stared at him for a second… then gave a slow thumbs-up.
"You really go all in," she muttered.
"This building has good soundproofing," Luo Zheng replied casually. "Otherwise, we'd have had trouble."
"…You're unbelievable."
"Stay here," he added, his tone turning practical. "When she wakes up, make sure she drinks water."
Then he walked off, leaving Liu Yan standing there, speechless.
After a long pause, she sighed and opened the door.
Inside, the scene told its own story.
Clothes were scattered everywhere. Furniture had clearly been pushed past its limits. Cushions, fabrics, and small objects lay in disarray, as if a storm had passed through.
Liu Yan took out a small notebook.
"Replace sofa… new set of cushions… probably kitchen items too…"
She moved methodically, noting everything down with professional efficiency.
By the time she reached the bedroom, her movements slowed.
Inside, the room was quiet.
Xu Jinglei lay asleep, her expression finally relaxed, the earlier tension gone. A blanket half-covered her, and strands of hair clung to her face.
Liu Yan gently adjusted the blanket, then wrote down the final items.
"Bed linens… curtains…"
Closing the notebook, she stood there for a moment.
Then she shook her head lightly.
"This job…" she murmured under her breath, "…really isn't normal."
Still, she turned off the lights and quietly stepped out.
Because no matter how chaotic things looked—
This was her responsibility now.