After Divorce, I Can Hear the Future

Chapter 24: Passion for Film

"Mr. Lu, do you have any suggestions? Please feel free to share; we can make adjustments if necessary," Zhang Chen asked cautiously. Lu Liang’s agreement to invest had come so easily it felt unreal, as though he’d shown up just to give away money.

Lu Liang’s face turned cold as he tapped the table heavily. “Mr. Zhang, I’m investing in this movie because I believe in the script and your core team. Don’t bring the bad habits of the entertainment industry into this project.”

“If you’re making this film just to please investors, I’ll have to reconsider whether I should invest at all,” he declared with righteous conviction, adopting an unyielding posture of moral integrity.

Standing by the window, Wu Tianzheng’s hand, which was holding a cigarette, trembled slightly. He couldn’t help but glance back at Lu Liang.

What a speech. Almost convincing.

But who was the one last night, hugging and kissing, taking a girl home and making her so dizzy she nearly forgot her own name?

Admiration flickered in Wu Tianzheng’s heart as he puffed on his cigarette and turned back to the riverscape. No wonder he’s rich—this guy can spin a tale without a shred of guilt.

Zhang Chen was both startled and overjoyed. He hurriedly clarified, “You misunderstand, Mr. Lu.”

Over the past few months of seeking investment, Zhang had met countless investors, many of whom came with outrageous demands—adding roles, sleeping with actresses, or even starring in the film themselves. The team had been pushed to the brink of collapse, emotionally and mentally.

They’d been wrong to assume Lu Liang was the same.

Worried Zhang might dig a deeper hole, Ma Li quickly poured a glass of Wuliangye liquor and said, “Mr. Lu, you’re different from those people. You truly love film, and I admire that. Here’s a toast to you.”

“Mr. Lu, we all toast to you!”

Zhang Chen, Shen Teng, and the others quickly followed suit, each raising a glass of two ounces of baijiu. Their sincerity was evident in their actions.

“Drink less. I’m not a fan of those boozy traditions. Just a gesture is enough,” Lu Liang said, sipping lightly. “I see your sincerity. Work hard and stay true to your original intentions.”

“The funds will be transferred to your company’s account by next Friday. If there’s a funding shortage later, feel free to reach out to me.”

Lu Liang had already decided not to invest as an individual, as personal income tax on unexpected gains could reach 25%. Instead, he planned to establish an investment company and make the investment through it.

This way, future profits could be offset against expenses like property and car purchases, reducing tax burdens significantly.

“Old Wu, why are you brooding by the window? Come and join us,” Lu Liang said, pulling Wu Tianzheng back into the fray.

The team members of Happy Mahua, mostly northerners, were seasoned drinkers. They were moved by Lu Liang’s words and eagerly raised their glasses again and again. Even Ma Li downed two glasses without blinking, her composure unshaken.

Lu Liang, alarmed, quickly pulled Wu Tianzheng in to help.

“Mr. Wu, here’s a toast to you. Without you, I wouldn’t have had the chance to meet Mr. Lu,” Zhang Chen said, raising his glass.

“You’re too kind, Mr. Zhang. We’re all friends—helping each other is only natural,” Wu replied, unable to refuse.

With the contract sealed, Wu also stood to earn a hefty referral fee from Zhang Chen, so the toast was well-deserved.

Shen Teng, Ma Li, Yan Fei, and the others followed suit, their enthusiasm pouring out in waves.

The unlucky Wu became the new target of their toasts while Lu Liang quietly watched, feeling a pang of sympathy for him.

A meal meant to be a simple afternoon tea stretched into dinner.

By evening, Lu Liang found an excuse to leave, calling for a designated driver to take him home.

...

Waking up at 10 p.m., the dim bedroom was suddenly illuminated by a faint glow from his phone.

Li Manli had sent a message: “So mad. The new manager just arrived today—so arrogant and annoying, always trying to grope me.”

Lu Liang smirked. He felt the time had come to reel in his line before the fish slipped away. But he still made a habit of letting her wait, taking a shower and replying half an hour later: “I’m back.” ȒÂℕőΒÈṡ

“When?” Li Manli responded instantly, clearly glued to her phone.

“Just got off the plane. I’m a bit hungry. Let me pick you up for a late-night snack,” Lu Liang texted bluntly.

The chat interface showed her typing and stopping repeatedly, clearly conflicted. It wasn’t hard to guess what a late-night meal invitation at this hour could lead to.

After a long pause, she replied: “But I’m still at work.”

“I’m almost there,” Lu Liang replied, grabbing his keys and heading out.

In the past two days at Haomeng Production Company, he’d seen many beautiful and hardworking girls. With just a crook of his finger, they’d likely throw themselves at him, eager to please.

His patience was wearing thin. He recalled Meng Changkun’s principle: women all had a price, and if they weren’t worth it, even celestial beauties weren’t worth pursuing.

While Lu Liang disagreed with reducing people to price tags, Meng’s point that there were plenty of beautiful women in the world resonated. There was no need to waste time on uncertainty.

...

Half an hour later, Lu Liang arrived at Qufu Road and spotted Li Manli waiting by the roadside.

She wore dark green work pants paired with a beige crop top that exposed her slender waist. Her long black hair, streaked with hints of blue and purple, added a touch of allure to her otherwise innocent demeanor.

A black BMW pulled up beside her, and its owner appeared to be trying to chat her up.

Li Manli stood with her arms crossed, glancing around with an uninterested expression.

“Hey gorgeous, need a ride?” the BMW owner began, but his words were drowned out by a low horn from Lu Liang’s Bentley.

The man turned, ready to argue, but seeing the Bentley’s badge, he muttered curses under his breath before reluctantly moving his car forward.

He stepped out again, hoping to make another move on Li Manli. Confident in his youthful success, his BMW, and what he believed to be a solid 9/10 appearance, he felt sure he could charm her.

But the moment she turned toward the Bentley, her icy demeanor melted into a radiant smile—a transformation so striking it felt as though all the flowers in the world had bloomed.

The man watched in stunned silence as Li Manli climbed into the Bentley’s passenger seat. His heart sank.

Without a word, he returned to his car, revved the engine, and drove off.

Amused by the scene, Lu Liang chuckled. Li Manli pouted and said, “How dare you laugh!”

“You said you’d be here soon. I’ve been waiting over twenty minutes!” she complained, her lips forming a dramatic pout.

“There was an accident on the expressway. That’s why I’m late,” Lu Liang lied smoothly, his tone nonchalant.

Though suspicious, Li Manli chose to believe him.

“I had an argument with my manager today. I’ll probably get fired,” she sighed.

“Isn’t that a good thing? You’ll be free now,” Lu Liang teased, recalling how Zhang Qian had resigned, only to be replaced by this annoying male manager.

“Not everyone’s like you. If I lose my job, I’ll be broke next month,” she grumbled.

“With me around, how could I let you go broke? You’ll feast on delicacies until you’re sick of them.”

“Really?” she asked skeptically.

“Absolutely,” he replied confidently.

After a brief pause, she suddenly exclaimed, “Then I want sushi—the best kind!”

Lu Liang wrinkled his nose. “It’s just cold rice with raw fish. What’s so great about that?”

Her wide, innocent eyes sparkled as she pouted. “You said you’d treat me to delicacies, and now you’re refusing sushi?”

“Fine, fine. Sushi it is,” Lu Liang relented, feeling his resolve waver under her gaze—a mix of innocence and seduction that made him want to pull her into his arms.

“Yay! Let’s go!” Li Manli cheered, pumping her fists in victory.