Chapter 55

“Is it that you don’t have the time, or don’t you like that variety show?” Jing Ke also tilted her head, her amber eyes exceptionally clear and sincere under the light’s illumination.

“If it’s a scheduling issue, I can coordinate a few days around it. If you don’t like it, you can tell me the type you prefer, and then I’ll invest in it.” Jing Ke said earnestly.

“Wait, I need to sort this out.” Shao Qing raised her hand in a time-out gesture.

“Weren’t these resources something you traded for using that evidence and dealings with relevant agencies?” Shao Qing asked.

Jing Ke shook her head, “No, I invested using New Life Entertainment’s name. I hold 90% of the company’s shares. It’s not much different from a personal investment.”

“New Life Entertainment?” Shao Qing blinked, feeling the company’s name sounded vaguely familiar.

After retrieving the relevant information from her memory, Shao Qing continued, “Was New Life Entertainment formerly Banana Entertainment? That company that was recently acquired?”

Jing Ke nodded: “Yes. I finalized the acquisition and restructuring last month. New Life Entertainment is now operating normally. About one-third of the staff was replaced. The artists’ contracts haven’t expired yet; only one B-list star paid their penalty fee and left. Otherwise, things are as they were.”

“You acquired Banana Entertainment, and renamed it New Life Entertainment?” Shao Qing began re-organizing the known information.

“Correct.” Jing Ke continued nodding.

Shao Qing’s bright, defined features were still clouded with incomprehension. “Didn’t you say your liquid capital was quite limited? Limited enough that you needed me to arrange your domestic residence?”

“My liquid capital isn’t outrageously massive, but buying a small company barely valued over a hundred million isn’t an issue.” Jing Ke’s striking, sword-like eyebrows drew together slightly.

“As for needing you to arrange my accommodation, that’s because I didn’t own any domestic assets at the time.” Jing Ke also realized Shao Qing seemed to have some misperceptions about her.

“Was I not clear enough before?” Jing Ke licked her slightly dry lower lip and said carefully, “If so, I apologize. You can ask me directly about anything unclear now.”

“So, your ‘not outrageous’ liquid funds—what amount are we talking?” Shao Qing chose the direct approach.

“Around over a billion, I think? But I only converted half into RMB. Currently holding eight hundred million in foreign currencies. As for RMB, after deducting the company acquisition costs, I still have a little over five billion, more or less?” Jing Ke’s tone carried a hint of uncertainty.

Part of Jing Ke’s funds was managed by a professional team, with daily incremental investment returns coming in, so she only remembered the leading digit.

Over a billion… eight hundred million… over five billion and counting?

Very well, it turned out she had misunderstood Jing Ke from the very beginning.

Truly wealthy individuals were indeed unpretentious and down-to-earth, choosing plain broth for hot pot and small portions without waste when ordering food.

She’d had a stereotype of the rich. Someone not constantly extravagant could also be immensely wealthy.

“Wait a moment, let me check how much cash is in the account.” Seeing Shao Qing’s silence, Jing Ke reflexively sought a website to see exactly how much money she had.

“No, no need. I get it.” Shao Qing said, slightly dazed, while simultaneously recalibrating her perception.

She internally adjusted Jing Ke’s status from an ordinary person reliant on her salary to a super-wealthy woman with billions in liquid assets.

Oh, right, Jing Ke was now also the Boss of New Life Entertainment, officially an Investor within the industry.

“Alright, any more questions then?” Jing Ke subtly straightened her posture, her amber eyes focusing intently on Shao Qing.

Shao Qing didn’t feel awkward under Jing Ke’s gaze, but recalling how she’d once silently pitied Jing Ke, she couldn’t help rubbing her face.

“So what are your fixed assets overseas? Like a large manor?” Shao Qing tried to broaden her perspective completely.

With that amount of liquid capital, her fixed assets couldn’t possibly be just a single property. Surely a massive manor worth billions?

“Pretty much, but not just one large manor. There’s also a rather nice castle.” Jing Ke said, recalling the assets she was born with.

“Two overseas islands—one is developed and operating, the other not yet developed. The yacht and cruise ship should both be rented out, generating a small profit.”

“Other fixed assets include scattered smaller properties here and there, all managed by overseas teams, in a state of marginal profitability.” Jing Ke added.

Fine. It seemed her own imagination was far too impoverished. She genuinely didn’t understand how wealthy truly rich people were!

“Anything else?” Shao Qing asked, maintaining a veneer of calm, but inside, the surging emotions were almost uncontrollable.

“Uh, shares in some overseas companies—do those count as fixed assets?” Jing Ke said, rubbing her nose. “Calculated at recent stock prices, their value should be roughly triple my liquid capital.”

Upon hearing this, Shao Qing closed her eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before opening them again.

“Rich woman, I’m hungry, feed me.” Shao Qing couldn’t help but blurt out the internet meme phrase many netizens used. She also wanted to latch onto a rich benefactor’s thigh!

“Okay, I’ll have someone prepare the transfer agreements. Domestic ones should be notarized in about a week; overseas ones will take longer, possibly a month.” Jing Ke agreed instantly without the slightest hesitation.

The whole reason Jing Ke selected such an identity during her transaction with the World Consciousness was precisely to back Shao Qing up and give her face whenever needed.

If Shao Qing wanted these things, handing them directly over was no issue.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I was just… a bit shocked. The words just popped out of my head somehow.” Shao Qing hastily cut Jing Ke off.

Even if Jing Ke dared to give so much money, Shao Qing didn’t dare accept it. Her investment methods were very singular, limited to fixed deposits or the financial products Sister Ke recommended.

“It’s fine. I didn’t ask clearly before.” Shao Qing slowly exhaled.

“Since you have money now, have you considered buying property domestically?” Shao Qing asked.

“You don’t dislike me living with you?” Jing Ke frowned. “Is my cooking not good anymore, or does my late-night computer use disturb your work?”

Shao Qing shook her head. “No, neither. But since you have money, shouldn’t you buy a place for yourself?”

“But I’m alone. I traded for this human body specifically to help you gather more Fortune. If I buy a house, I wouldn’t move into it anyway. So it’s better not to buy.”

Jing Ke added, “But if you need to film for a long time in another city, I’ll consider acquiring a nearby property.”

“You…” Shao Qing paused, momentarily unsure what to say.

“You’re someone with an identity now. You can go do things you want to do; you don’t need to be by my side all the time.” Shao Qing said, choosing her words carefully.

“Haven’t you said it yourself? Most of my Fortune has returned. And Xu Yin is under scrutiny by the tax department. As long as I maintain the current situation, regaining the lost Fortune entirely should be simple.”

Shao Qing’s current mindset hadn’t changed drastically from before. Even though she entrusted Jing Ke with much more trust now—even enough to bring her back to her hometown to meet Grandma Shao—

that didn’t affect Shao Qing viewing Jing Ke as a friend, a completely independent person with her own life, career, and social circle.

Shao Qing previously disapproved of those fictional high-born, learned female characters who sacrifice everything for the male lead. Shao Qing believed no one exists solely for another person; they should exist for themselves.

So she absolutely didn’t feel Jing Ke should prioritize her in everything now that she was human. Likewise, Shao Qing didn’t want Jing Ke actually transferring all her assets because of one joking phrase.

Though such an act would have zero downsides for Shao Qing, she was unwilling to pick up this golden pie falling from the sky.

“But, I still need to help you acquire more Fortune. Only then, after you depart, can I obtain more Fortune myself.” Jing Ke furrowed her brow slightly, not fully grasping Shao Qing’s point.

Jing Ke’s thoughts and needs were very simple: from start to finish, what she needed was Fortune. Whether staying by Shao Qing’s side or helping her solve various problems, ultimately, it all came down to acquiring Fortune to boost her direct power.

Of course, Jing Ke didn’t deny living with Shao Qing was a pleasant experience. It kept her from being too lonely or bored and gave her a sense of being needed.

“If you need it, you can just take all the Fortune after I take my last breath. I don’t much care what happens after death, so long as I live with few regrets.” Shao Qing shrugged.

“Can you tell me how to increase Fortune? Is it related to my fame and recognition?” Shao Qing asked.

“It’s partially related. The greater your influence, the more Fortune gathers on you. Acts like funding students, altering the fates of children forced to drop out—that also yields Fortune.” Jing Ke replied truthfully.

“With all your wealth, you could help countless people too, right?” Shao Qing was puzzled. “Can’t you gain Fortune yourself?”

“My wealth was obtained through a transaction with a certain mysterious existence. I merely paid a small price, so by default it can only be used for myself or my designated binder.”

“If I donate it directly, most of the money would dissipate as wasted expenditure due to various mishaps. Even if it ultimately changes those people’s fates, the Fortune wouldn’t come to me.”

Jing Ke explained, “If I gift it all to you, and you donate it—the Fortune gained is still minimal. Only spending the money on matters related to us both can maximize the benefits.”

“For money to truly become effective when donated, it must be made from money bred from money. Only then can it genuinely help those people.”

The reason the World Consciousness gave funding so readily was also tied to this.

Otherwise, if Jing Ke only needed a tiny bit of Fortune in exchange for vast wealth, and that wealth could then generate even more Fortune, wouldn’t the World Consciousness just be a clown getting played for free?

Shao Qing nodded with partial understanding. In non-specialist matters, her knowledge reserves were limited.

“So, I don’t need to buy a house then? I can continue staying here?” Jing Ke asked, with a trace of hope.

Facing Jing Ke’s earnest eyes, Shao Qing couldn’t bring herself to say anything too harsh, let alone refuse outright.

“I understand. You can keep living here. But I still hope you won’t unconditionally help me just for Fortune’s sake.” Shao Qing cleared her throat softly.

“Thank you for finding this resource for me. I have time in January. However, regarding the show’s payment—we split it fifty-fifty. Same for any future resources you find for me.”

Shao Qing: “We are partners. If all I can give you is some Fortune that’s essentially insignificant to you, that’s too unfair to you. I can’t comfortably accept that.”

Jing Ke tried to parse Shao Qing’s thinking. Was this reluctance to accept her unconditional generosity?

“Then your earlier invitation should still stand?” Jing Ke didn’t feel she’d done much, but she also tacitly agreed to Shao Qing’s proposal of splitting the profits evenly.

“It does. Last time I went home, I mentioned to Grandma—I made a good friend. I even showed her your photo.” Shao Qing smiled.

“Book the flight ticket for me too then. What time are we departing? 1:30 PM?” Jing Ke tried recalling.

Shao Qing nodded, pulling back her right hand, which had been clutching her left index finger. “Right. I’ll tell my assistant to book the tickets. Tomorrow we’ll have a simple lunch before heading to Mianyang.”

Jing Ke: “Okay.”

Mianyang, situated slightly further south than Sea City, meant temperatures currently held above freezing. When the sun came out, they could even reach double digits.

The day Jing Ke and Shao Qing departed was Saturday, making the airport more crowded than usual.

Fortunately, it was a sunny day suitable for flying. The plane took off on time and actually landed ten minutes ahead of schedule, arriving smoothly at Mianyang Airport just before three o’clock.

To avoid attracting attention, Shao Qing chose to wear the most ordinary black puffer jacket, paired with a knit cap and a mask, which completely obscured her prominent features.

After waiting for the Little Assistant to bring the car around at the airport, the two slipped into the backseat one after the other. What was simply getting off a plane somehow carried the thrill of a getaway.

The Little Assistant, who’d been with Shao Qing for roughly four years now, knew her hometown’s location very well. Without needing GPS, he expertly drove for an hour before dropping them off in a certain urban-rural fringe area between the City Center and the suburbs.

“Teacher Shao, the shoot is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. Should I come pick you up again on Monday?” the Assistant asked, helping unload one of the suitcases from the trunk.

“Yes, thank you for your hard work.” Shao Qing nodded.

Jing Ke had comparatively less luggage, so she quickly took over the suitcase from the Little Assistant. Nodding to him, she followed behind Shao Qing.

Though called an urban-rural fringe area, the houses here weren’t old, cramped, or dilapidated. They were mostly self-built Small Villas and Western-style houses, looking no worse than commercial housing downtown.

After dragging their luggage for about two minutes, a two-story Small Villa came into Jing Ke’s view.

The villa’s footprint wasn’t large, appearing under two hundred square meters. The vegetables planted around it were far more eye-catching—not only neatly arranged but all sporting vibrant green hues.

Shao Qing stood at the entrance, looking around before her gaze quickly settled on Grandma Shao crouching in the vegetable patch, picking greens.

“Grandma, I’m back.” Shao Qing pushed her luggage forward and jogged to her grandmother’s side.

“Little Qing? You’re back!” Grandma Shao looked up at the sound, and spotting her granddaughter, immediately broke into a smile.

“Hm, I’m back. And I also brought back the friend who’s been living with me—the one I showed you photos of last time, Grandma, do you remember?” Shao Qing bent down to help her grandmother up, gesturing towards where Jing Ke stood.

“Hello, Grandma. I’m Jing Ke, Shao Qing’s friend.” Jing Ke stepped forward, slightly bending at the waist so Grandma Shao could see her face clearly.

Grandma Shao stared at Jing Ke for a moment, seeming to reconcile the real person with the earlier photo.

“Hello, hello! A friend of Little Qing’s! Come inside quickly, I’ve made some sweet soup.”

Seeing her granddaughter’s friend looked just as dependable as in the photo, Grandma Shao’s eyes crinkled with even more laughter. Enthusiastically, she ushered Jing Ke to sit, insisting on serving her the sweet soup herself.

“Thank you, Grandma, I can help myself.” Jing Ke bent down to receive the soup and, under Grandma Shao’s expectant gaze, very quickly took a large sip.

“How’s the taste? My skill hasn’t gotten rusty, has it?” Grandma Shao asked with a smile.

“Very good, thank you, Grandma.” Jing Ke smiled her thanks, quickly taking another large sip.

“Glad you like it. There’s plenty more in the pot; go help yourself if you finish.” Grandma Shao’s enthusiasm didn’t wane. “Would you like some fruit? I specially went out to buy strawberries this time—handpicked them myself, all big ones too.”

“Okay, Grandma, we’ll help ourselves if we want any. Grandma, please sit and rest a moment.” Shao Qing said, guiding her grandmother to the sofa before changing the subject to her health.

Like most elderly people concerned about their juniors, Grandma Shao would never, upon hearing these questions, mention any discomfort at all. She would only say everything was fine, telling Shao Qing not to worry.

Jing Ke, having finished her bowl of sweet soup, carefully observed. Her gaze quickly landed on the slightly awkward, unnatural posture of Grandma Shao’s seated leg.

For some reason, seeing this, a sentence automatically popped into Jing Ke’s head: “Grandma, did you bump or knock your leg a few days ago? Does it still ache sometimes when you sleep at night?”