Start by Spending One Billion [Entertainment Industry] Chapter 82

Just like the previous "online use limit of one billion," this mission also exceeded the conventional funding amount, starting with a maximum cap of three billion.

Moreover, the restrictions on beneficiaries were relaxed, allowing investnts in multiple individuals, which ant the potential for higher returns than before—wealth and prosperity seed within reach.

However, the stipulation that the funds "could only be used for fixed asset purchases" did stump Sheng Quan.

Finding fixed assets currently on the market wasn’t difficult—a building counted as a fixed asset, as did various types of equipnt, and even books qualified. But finding assets worth over 1.5 billion? That was another story.

Fixed assets of such high value were rarely sold unless the owner was operating at a loss.

She could certainly buy a building, but one mustn’t forget that the mission funds could only be used for beneficiaries—and only those with impeccable character. Purchasing a building was easy, but what ca after?

If she really wanted to scrape by, she could technically complete the mission.

But with such a rare opportunity—one with "almost no restrictions and the potential for massive returns"—Sheng Quan wasn’t about to settle for just barely passing.

After Interstellar War, Starlight Entertainnt entered another phase of rapid expansion. With a new batch of artists onboard, the company was now in a high-investnt period, pouring vast sums into new projects and waiting for returns, whether sooner or later.

In the near future, Starlight Entertainnt was bound to enter a quieter phase.

But Sheng Quan didn’t want it to go quiet.

She flipped through the fixed asset data on her tablet, then checked the trending searches from the past five years that her assistant had compiled—and spotted quite a few familiar nas.

A quick search revealed that, while she hadn’t deliberately altered these people’s fates, the growing success of Starlight Entertainnt had positively influenced many characters from the original novel in one way or another.

The Road of Life, The Cultivator, and Interstellar War were just the three most outstanding productions from the past two years—Starlight Entertainnt had invested in countless other films and TV series.

Thanks to Sheng Quan’s influence, whether the productions were big or small, they all maintained a principled approach. After all, everyone knew the boss despised "under-the-table deals," and Starlight Entertainnt was entirely her domain.

From top to bottom, the company executed Chairman Sheng’s vision with absolute precision.

—Starlight Entertainnt prioritized talent in casting.

This rule, mocked as "pretentious" when the company was first established, had been steadfastly upheld, becoming a lifeline for many skilled but unconnected artists.

It had to be said—Starlight Entertainnt had spoiled its audience.

There had been companies producing high-quality dramas before, but quality ant high investnt, and unlike cheaper productions, returns weren’t imdiate, often dragging down studios mid-production.

Yet Starlight Entertainnt scattered money here and there, not only avoiding financial ruin but actually reaping substantial rewards.

Add to that the sweeping reforms at the established firm Bluebird under Chairman Xie Wanzhao’s direction.

Even the smaller companies that had once operated without restraint were now behaving more cautiously. Before, when everyone churned out subpar shows, audiences might complain, but they still watched. Now, with Starlight and Bluebird setting the standard, things were different.

In just two years, while other aspects of the industry might not have improved, the atmosphere among actors had undeniably shifted for the better.

If the entertainnt world had once offered only sporadic opportunities for talented actors, the past two years had seen chances raining down like a teor shower.

As long as they were willing to reach out, they could grab one or two.

Among the "familiar faces" Sheng Quan recognized from the original novel, not all had achieved stardom, but none were as stifled as they had been in the story.

After reviewing all this, Sheng Quan was in a good mood.

Even the minor characters who had only briefly appeared in the book were now living new, hardworking, upwardly mobile lives—thanks to the ripple effects she’d set in motion. It felt pretty great.

After disembarking the plane and stepping outside, Jiang Lu subtly moved to shield Sheng Quan. "There are reporters."

Sheng Quan was puzzled. "Reporters? Here for ?"

That didn’t make sense. While she was well-known, she wasn’t a celebrity who frequently appeared in the spotlight. Plus, in Shanghai, she usually traveled by private helicopter. With no scandals to chase and no way to keep up with her transport, paparazzi had little interest in her.

She had clout, but she was also a hobody. Reporters had staked her out before, only to find that Sheng Quan spent weeks binge-watching shows at ho. After two months of waiting, they’d only caught her leaving once—for a major event already swarming with dia.

The ti investnt versus payoff just wasn’t worth it, so gradually, no one bothered stalking Sheng Quan anymore.

At most, during major news events, journalists might try to corner her for an interview. Under normal circumstances, Chairman Sheng’s surroundings were paparazzi-free.

Especially for a low-profile event like this that wouldn’t even make trending searches.

Sheng Quan assud they were here for soone else. She turned to her assistant. "Any public figures visiting Fangcheng today?"

The tall, striking assistant with an air of cool elegance answered imdiately:

"A variety show, Happy Travels, is filming in Fangcheng and will cross-promote with our Interstellar War event here. Their crew is arriving today—these people are probably waiting for them."

Her professionalism was evident. Who would’ve guessed her actual job was bodyguard?

That’s right—this assistant, He Xi, had been selected from the top tier of Starlight Security’s trainees.

Originally, her assistant role was just a cover, ant to operate discreetly. After all, when people thought of bodyguards, they pictured burly n in suits, not the elegant woman beside Sheng Quan.

Even Sheng Quan hadn’t expected He Xi, a forr soldier, to excel at assistant work. But He Xi approached it with military discipline—studying the thods of Sheng Quan’s other assistants and painstakingly learning the ins and outs of the entertainnt industry.

Most people around Sheng Quan pursued additional training, and He Xi followed suit, enrolling in courses during her ti off. Among the elite trainees, she stood out as exceptional—a pleasant surprise.

Ninety-nine percent of Starlight Security’s trainees weren’t afraid of hard work, but it depended on the type of hardship. Many would rather run grueling obstacle courses than sit down and tackle dense, difficult study material.

The grind of studying was sothing only those who’d pushed themselves to the limit could truly understand.

He Xi was one of those people—relentlessly improving herself while never neglecting her primary duty as a bodyguard.

In just over a year, she had transford from "one of the top-selected trainees" to "the most trusted assistant by Chairman Sheng."

Sheng Quan genuinely liked He Xi—what boss wouldn’t appreciate a hardworking subordinate? Even her penny-pinching employer from her past life, who was reluctant to pay overti, had still tried to curry favor with her in various ways.

Having experienced the frustration of "effort misplaced," Sheng Quan gradually increased He Xi’s salary and bonuses as her responsibilities expanded.

And so, He Xi beca even more motivated. The way she effortlessly recited program details showed just how ticulously she tracked every aspect of Sheng Quan’s schedule:

"This show is a large-scale travel experience program produced by Golden Orange TV. The guests are mostly public figures with fa and fanbases, and its popularity ranks 15th nationally among variety shows. One of this episode’s guests is Lin Qing, an artist from our Starlight Entertainnt."

Sheng Quan didn’t really recall him. Starlight Entertainnt now had so many artists that she couldn’t possibly rember every new signee’s na like she used to:

"Lin Qing… wasn’t he a child star?"

"Yes, Lin Qing’s contract with Wuhua Entertainnt expired three months ago, and he signed with Starlight Entertainnt. His agent is Zhu Ying."

Sheng Quan thought He Xi was truly embodying the role of an all-purpose assistant now. With so many people in the company, she even rembered the forr agency of a relatively unknown artist like Lin Qing—clearly, she was always prepared for Sheng Quan’s questions.

Who would’ve thought that when she first started, she didn’t even know the leads of popular dramas?

Chairman Sheng couldn’t help but glance admiringly at her capable, striking, and beautiful bodyguard-slash-assistant:

"Starting this month, your salary will increase by another five percent."

A flicker of surprise and delight crossed He Xi’s coolly elegant face. She had just gotten a raise three months ago—another five percent would nearly match the salary of a senior executive assistant.

Even if Sheng Quan no longer needed her one day, this level of experience would secure her a high-ranking position at Starlight Entertainnt.

"Thank you, Chairman Sheng."

Outside work hours, He Xi wasn’t much of a talker. No matter how grateful she felt, she couldn’t put it into words, so she channeled her excitent into action, resolving to work even harder.

Sheng Quan didn’t have much of an impression of the show Happy Travels. Since moving into her new ho, her entertainnt had been limited to movies and TV dramas.

She rarely watched variety shows, mainly because nearly every popular one featured soone she knew. Acting was one thing, but these semi-scripted, pseudo-real-life performances were too jarring.

She still rembered accidentally stumbling onto one show where Lin Aike was frantically cooking, only for the pot lid to go flying—it nearly killed her with laughter, and she imdiately ssaged Lin Aike to tease her about it.

Not keen on drawing attention, Sheng Quan adjusted her hat when she noticed the reporters with their caras hadn’t spotted her yet. "Let’s go."

Unfortunately, while Chairman Sheng herself was low-key, her entourage of bodyguards was anything but.

The mont they moved, a dozen tall, broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted bodyguards flanked her, drawing stares from passersby—let alone the paparazzi, who were already camped out at the airport, hypersensitive to any potential scoop.

"Who’s that? The show’s guests aren’t supposed to co out for another three minutes. Did they arrive early? But there’s no cara crew with them."

The paparazzi and freelance photographers instantly perked up.

One adjusted his cap. "Bro, I sll a trending topic."

"Sll my ass—just figure out who it is!"

They didn’t need to run over. Zooming in with their caras, they caught glimpses of a young woman shielded tightly by bodyguards:

"Holy shit! It’s Sheng Quan! What’s she doing here?!"

"Sheng Quan?!!"

"Move, move! Get closer and snap so shots! See if we can squeeze out a quote!"

"Bro, what about the variety show?"

"That show isn’t going anywhere, and this episode’s guests aren’t even A-listers. We can always catch them filming later. But Sheng Quan? Every ti she shows up, it’s big news. We actually lucked out this ti!"

Clearly, many other paparazzi and freelancers shared the sa thought. Happy Travels wasn’t unpopular, but it wasn’t a smash hit either, and this episode’s lineup wasn’t particularly buzzworthy. Since their targets’ schedules were easy to track, they had no qualms about ditching the show for Sheng Quan.

After being photographed so often, Sheng Quan had grown accustod to it. They could snap away—she’d just keep walking.

Headlines like "Freelance Photographers Run Wild" or "Paparazzi Relentlessly Pursue" never applied to her.

These ethically questionable folks knew how to pick their battles.

Sheng Quan wasn’t so fa-reliant minor celebrity—she was the chairwoman of Starlight Entertainnt, a company steadily rising in prominence, with countless industry connections. Even major dia outlets treated her with respect, let alone tabloid reporters.

She might not own any dia outlets herself, but who knew how many influential people she knew? One wrong move, one annoyed word from her, and they could lose their jobs.

This caution extended to Starlight’s artists as well. The company was notorious for its deep pockets and fierce protection of its talent.

Take that one incident: A relatively unknown actress, newly signed, was harassed by a veteran actor on set. She slapped him, and the scene turned ugly.

For a well-known artist, company backing would be expected. But for a fresh face, most agencies wouldn’t go to war over such a "minor" issue—they’d just send a manager to smooth things over.

Starlight, however, stood firmly behind the actress. They pulled surveillance footage, gathered evidence, and imdiately filed a lawsuit once the facts were confird.

The legal outco might not have landed the old actor in jail, but Starlight made it clear: none of their projects would work with him again. Other companies followed suit.

The actor had been sowhat famous, always targeting newcors—those too timid, too obscure, and too powerless to fight back—because he knew most agencies wouldn’t bother protecting them.

And then he kicked an iron plate.

Going to such lengths for an unknown newbie? Starlight’s young chairwoman clearly wasn’t as mild-mannered as she seed.

Funny enough, before this incident, Starlight’s artists still faced so shaless freelance photographers. Afterward? Those sa photographers suddenly beca very, very well-behaved.

And when it ca to Sheng Quan? That restraint multiplied tenfold.

They maintained a perfectly asured distance, taking photos without disturbing Sheng Quan. A few people tried to ask questions, but after receiving no response, they didn’t dare press further.

Surrounded by her tall, long-legged bodyguards, Sheng Quan moved smoothly forward. Just as she was about to reach the elevator, a voice filled with pure hatred suddenly rang out:

"Tan Chen!!! Go die!!!"

Even though it clearly wasn’t directed at Sheng Quan, the sheer venom in the tone instantly put her security team on high alert. The elevator doors opened, and Sheng Quan stepped inside. From her vantage point, she could see a group of people exiting ahead—staff mbers, caras, and a few strikingly good-looking young n and won in the distance.

This must be that travel variety show.

Tan Chen… the na sounded vaguely familiar.

Just before the elevator doors closed, Sheng Quan caught sight of two people hurling vegetables at a man while screaming obscenities. Between their furious ranting, they spat out a string of other nas:

"Chen Mo! Zhou Ke! Bai Xiangyuan!"—and more she couldn’t quite catch. But their verbal assault was impressively rapid, managing to curse out seven people in half a minute:

"How dare you disgrace us like this?! Losing in a competition like that!"

"You’ve humiliated China!! Do you even know how foreigners are mocking us?!"

"Bai Xiangyuan! Don’t you dare hide! It was your mistake!! And you call yourself the ‘Best Bottom Laner’? Disgusting! Just retire already! Tan Chen! Move! I’m not even done with you yet!"

Their main targets clearly weren’t Tan Chen, but since he stood in front, he bore the brunt of another round of insults.

And vegetable projectiles.

—Airport security checks ant they couldn’t have brought anything truly dangerous inside.

Still, Sheng Quan had only ever seen vegetable-throwing in TV dramas before.

The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‍scene was almost comical—two people yelling while pelting greens—but the recipient probably wasn’t amused. Yet when she looked over, he seed surprisingly unbothered.

He couldn’t have been thirty yet, but his deanor carried a quiet maturity. Unlike the show’s guests, he wasn’t wearing the program’s uniform. Tall and lean, he shielded a group of teenagers—likely no older than seventeen or eighteen—behind him. His sharp, handso features only accentuated his composed presence.

While the young guests behind him wore expressions of anger and indignation, Tan Chen remained almost eerily calm.

A vegetable smacked against his face. Even if it was just a leaf, the force would’ve stung. He rely frowned slightly, raising a hand to stop one of the teenagers from lunging forward.

With slender fingers, he plucked the vegetable off and casually unfolded a collapsible bag from his pocket, dropping it inside. His well-shaped lips moved.

Sheng Quan couldn’t hear him, but judging by his lip movents and the way the two haters instantly turned apoplectic, her expert gossip radar pieced it together:

"Thanks."

"Saved a trip to the grocery store."