Feeling refreshed—though his legs still carried a faint trace of weakness—Luo Zheng returned to the company building with an unhurried pace. The afternoon light filtered through the glass walls of the office floor, casting long reflections across the polished tiles. It was one of those rare quiet moments where everything seemed under control, where even the constant pressure of deadlines and responsibilities faded into the background.
He stepped into his office, loosened his collar slightly, and sank into his executive chair. The soft leather embraced him as he leaned back, closing his eyes for just a second. The exhaustion from the past few days lingered, but it was the kind of fatigue that came after everything had gone exactly as planned. His mind drifted, hovering on the edge of sleep—
Bang!
The office door flew open without warning.
Luo Zheng didn't even need to open his eyes to know who it was.
"What's the rush, Sister Wenxi?" he said lazily, voice carrying a faint amusement.
Only one person in the entire company would dare to enter like that—Huo Wenxi.
When he finally opened his eyes, he saw her standing there, dressed sharply in a black silk skirt that hugged her figure perfectly, her expression a mixture of irritation and barely restrained frustration. The contrast between her composed exterior and the anger in her eyes made the scene far more interesting than any meeting he could have attended.
The office, dimly lit and spacious, seemed to amplify her presence. She didn't sit down. Instead, she stood there, arms crossed, staring at him like she had been waiting for this moment.
"You look very relaxed," she said, her tone sharp.
Luo Zheng smiled faintly. "Shouldn't I be?"
That answer only made her more annoyed.
Since joining the company, Huo Wenxi had practically taken on the responsibility of building the Artist Department from scratch. Recruitment, planning, artist development—everything fell on her shoulders. Meanwhile, Luo Zheng, the man who had personally recruited her with grand promises, had conveniently stepped back into the role of a hands-off boss.
To her, it felt like she had been tricked.
Seeing her chest rise and fall slightly with controlled anger, Luo Zheng knew she was close to exploding. Before she could say anything further, he stood up in one swift motion and closed the distance between them.
"Sister Wenxi," he said, his tone suddenly softer, "I haven't forgotten what I promised."
Before she could react, he pulled her gently into his arms.
The sudden closeness caught her completely off guard.
For a brief moment, she froze.
"Let go," she said quickly, lowering her voice, "What if someone sees?"
"No one will," Luo Zheng replied calmly. "Except you, no one walks in without knocking."
His words carried a teasing edge, but there was also a certain confidence behind them.
Huo Wenxi's cheeks flushed slightly, though whether from embarrassment or irritation even she couldn't tell. She tried to push him away, but his grip was firm—not forceful, but impossible to ignore.
"If you don't let go," she said, trying to regain control, "I'm going back to Hong Kong tomorrow."
The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them.
It sounded too personal.
Too emotional.
Exactly the kind of thing she didn't want him to notice.
But Luo Zheng noticed everything.
Instead of stepping back, he leaned in slightly, clearly amused.
"Going back?" he repeated. "So easily?"
She realized she had lost the upper hand.
"…I have serious work to discuss," she said quickly, changing the subject.
That, at least, got his attention.
After a brief pause, Luo Zheng finally released her, though not without a faint smile lingering on his lips. He handed her a tissue casually and gestured toward the sofa.
"Alright," he said, sitting down beside her, "Let's talk business."
Huo Wenxi adjusted her posture, putting distance between them, though she could still feel the warmth from moments ago. She forced herself to focus.
"The Artist Department needs to expand," she began. "We can't rely on one person alone. We need new talent—quickly. I want to start large-scale recruitment and screen potential candidates."
Luo Zheng listened, nodding slightly.
But instead of immediately agreeing, he gave a different answer.
"There's no need for mass recruitment," he said calmly. "Just tell me what you need. I'll find the right people."
She frowned.
"You'll find them?"
"Yes."
There was no hesitation in his voice.
In his mind, this wasn't even a challenge. With the advantage of foresight, he already knew which future stars were worth investing in. Random selection would only waste time.
Huo Wenxi studied him for a moment. She had seen him do impossible things before. Slowly, she nodded.
"One month," she said. "At least one singer and one actor."
At that exact moment, a sharp notification echoed in Luo Zheng's mind.
A system prompt.
A mission had been triggered.
He paused briefly, then smiled.
"Deal," he said. "And I promise—you'll be surprised."
She didn't respond immediately, but there was a hint of curiosity in her eyes now.
"The second thing," she continued, regaining her composure, "I need an assistant. Someone experienced. I can't handle everything alone anymore."
"That's easy," Luo Zheng replied without hesitation. "I'll arrange it."
For him, problems that could be solved with money were never really problems.
Satisfied, Huo Wenxi stood up.
She paused at the door, hesitated for a second, then said quietly, "Take care of yourself."
It wasn't something she had planned to say.
But she said it anyway.
Luo Zheng looked up, slightly surprised, then smiled.
"I will," he replied.
She didn't stay any longer.
The door closed behind her, leaving the office quiet once again.
—
The following days became a blur of activity.
Luo Zheng threw himself into work with full focus. Casting decisions for the upcoming film, coordinating with production teams, refining scripts—every hour was accounted for.
Yet even in the middle of this hectic schedule, his life maintained its peculiar rhythm.
Morning meetings, afternoon discussions, evening planning.
Everything seemed to move forward smoothly.
Until May 3rd.
On that day, a storm hit Hollywood.
Spider-Man premiered in North America.
No one expected what happened next.
Within its opening weekend, the film grossed an astonishing 114 million US dollars.
A number that shattered expectations.
A number that rewrote history.
For the first time ever, a film crossed the 100 million mark in its opening weekend.
The entire industry was shaken.
Studios, producers, investors—everyone was stunned.
This wasn't just a successful release.
It was a signal.
A new era had begun.
And Luo Zheng, sitting in his office thousands of miles away, looked at the report with a faint smile.
Because he knew—
This was only the beginning.