The Cannon Fodder Alpha Who Made the Heroine Pregnant - Chapter 67

67:

In the end, it wasn’t just Zhou Lan, Chu Zhao, and Sang Xia who reached a collaboration.

Sang Yu, with the intention of sharing the burden of potential failure for Sang Xia, also joined the investment.

Thus, the four of them pooled together one billion yuan, with Sang Xia’s company taking the lead and the Sang Group facilitating the investment.

The process inevitably became known to the public. Normally, the Sang Group’s actions drew significant attention, but this time, everyone saw it as a spoiled rich kid’s petty venture.

After all, the investment was made under Sang Xia’s company’s name, with Sang Yu clearly acting as her protector—a true princess treatment.

The outside world mocked it, saying the Sang Group was splashing out a billion just to indulge a child’s play.

In reality, for a conglomerate like the Sang Group, a billion yuan investment was trivial, brushed off with a few laughs, and soon forgotten by the public.

Zhou Lan’s ten million came from the success of the Get Lost Band program. Although the band didn’t win, her songs propelled them to first-tier status.

Two of the songs were hers, and one was her adaptation.

Those three songs were the band’s most popular, and industry insiders had already reached out to her through various channels.

She sold a few songs to some promising singers and earned additional income from album sales and royalties, leaving her with a comfortable sum.

As for Chu Zhao, projects from the past year and a half were starting to yield returns. Zhou Lan’s twenty million had been a lifeline, giving Chu Yue two months to recover.

With her personal savings and Chu Yue’s funds, she gathered nearly two hundred million.

Chu Zhao decided to allocate five percent of her twenty percent stake to Zhou Lan.

This five percent meant that while the principal remained Chu Zhao’s, the profits would go to Zhou Lan’s account.

With outsiders present, Zhou Lan didn’t say much. Even if the money went to her account, she’d return it.

Then there was Sang Xia’s three hundred million, supplemented by Sang Yu’s five hundred million, making up the billion yuan invested in the Women’s Asian Cup.

Sang Yu didn’t stay long. She had come to meet Sang Xia’s friends, and with the meeting done and the collaboration settled, there was little common ground among the four, and staying would only lead to awkwardness.

Sang Yu left, taking Sang Xia with her.

Alone with Chu Zhao, Zhou Lan felt a stark contrast between their interactions on morning and afternoon.

No longer feeling awkward, Zhou Lan was different from how she’d been in the morning.

Recalling Chu Zhao’s decision during the contract signing, she spoke up, “There’s no reason for me to profit when you’re the one providing the capital.”

Chu Zhao didn’t respond immediately, taking a sip of the tonic an auntie had just prepared and delivered.

The auntie was hired by Zhou Lan specifically to make nutritious meals and tonics for Chu Zhao.

After a pause, Chu Zhao said, “Chu Yue is worth two hundred million. Your twenty million only got you one percent of the shares. No matter how you look at it, it’s a losing deal.”

“But I didn’t do it for business,” Zhou Lan replied instantly.

If it were for investment, with her talent, she could have started her own entertainment company and managed her own artists. She did it solely for Chu Zhao.

Besides, Chu Yue’s value was growing. Recently, two web dramas have boosted the popularity of a few of Chu Zhao’s artists.

The lead actors in one of the dramas had jumped to second-tier status, which was a different league from band rankings.

Second-tier actors could play supporting roles to A-listers or lead in web dramas, even vying for roles in mainstream TV dramas, provided they were light rom-coms.

Chu Yue’s girl group didn’t secure debut spots in a talent show, a deliberate choice by Chu Zhao.

Debuting meant giving the group to the show’s management for two years. By the time they were returned, their peak popularity would have faded, even if they were still popular.

Chu Zhao had calculated it: the hit songs for her girl group were bought by Chu Yue, and the show did little for them. Even without debuting, their popularity rivaled those who did, sometimes surpassing them.

A debut spot came with a clear price tag, plus ongoing management costs. Chu Yue had spent so much, but the group’s most lucrative two years would belong to someone else—Chu Zhao wouldn’t agree to that.

Since debuting would only be a marginal benefit, if not a loss, there was no need for it.

Chu Zhao didn’t buy debut spots. After the show, the girl group officially debuted as CYC. Their popularity matched the top three debutants, and together, they even outshone them.

While Chu Yue’s resources weren’t on par with the show’s massive company, the group’s popularity attracted plenty of offers. With new management, maintaining their fame was no issue.

As long as CYC’s first album was well-produced and they held a few concerts to solidify their fanbase, they could transition to acting.

In the domestic industry, stage opportunities were scarce, and acting was the only path forward. With their popularity, they’d debut as leads.

With several second-tier actors and the trending group CYC, Chu Yue’s valuation had multiplied in just two months.

The entertainment industry was like that, even a small workshop could skyrocket from millions to billions by producing a single star.

Zhou Lan’s one percent stake might seem small, but its value was significant, certainly no less than twenty million.

So when Chu Zhao offered her one percent of Chu Yue’s shares, knowing the company’s future potential, Zhou Lan’s first thought was to refuse.

Twenty million would always be twenty million, but one percent of Chu Yue could become two hundred million, or even two billion.

In Zhou Lan’s view, Chu Zhao’s compensation was entirely unnecessary.

The Women’s Asian Cup’s returns could multiply tenfold, and five percent was no small sum. How could she accept that money?

Chu Zhao wasn’t surprised by her refusal. “It’s easy to add flowers to a brocade, but hard to send charcoal in the snow.”

“Without your twenty million, Chu Yue couldn’t have invested in that movie in time. That movie means more to Chu Yue than just profit.”

Chu Yue’s self-produced web dramas were decent, and one mainstream TV drama had made some waves, but they had no films.

Good scripts for low-budget films were rare. Chu Yue had found a great script but lacked the funds to invest. Zhou Lan’s twenty million, while not exactly a lifeline, was incredibly timely.

The twenty million wasn’t just about shares or repayment, it carried a personal favor.

Chu Zhao was most reluctant to owe Zhou Lan, which was why she made this decision.

“I understand your point, but you’ve already converted it into Chu Yue shares for me,” Zhou Lan said.

Her initial goal was simply to help Chu Zhao, to contribute her part, not for any other reason.

Chu Zhao understood, but twenty million wasn’t a small sum. Zhou Lan had given it freely, clearly valuing their bond, but Chu Zhao didn’t want to deplete that bond.

Her frown made Zhou Lan start to feel frustrated.

“Then just return the twenty million to me, and I’ll give back Chu Yue’s shares.”

“It’s only been two months. If that doesn’t work, calculate it like a bank loan with interest.”

Zhou Lan’s brows furrowed, her words turning sharp.

So they had to draw such clear lines?

She wasn’t angry, but Chu Zhao was. “You don’t want Chu Yue’s shares that badly? Or is it that you don’t want to be tied to me?”

Zhou Lan: “???” She almost laughed in exasperation. How could someone turn the tables like that?

“I didn’t…”

Before she could finish, Chu Zhao cut her off. “Twenty million isn’t just money, it’s a favor. This time, I’m just repaying that favor.”

Perhaps because she liked Zhou Lan, she didn’t want their balance to tip.

Giving was mutual. If one side gave too much for too long, they might eventually grow resentful.

In Chu Zhao’s view, fairness was paramount.

But emotions weren’t so calculated. Who gave more or less—how could everything be so clear-cut?

Two emotional novices debating this could sit for a day and get nowhere.

Ultimately, Zhou Lan, who had watched more dramas and novels and had spoken with Sang Xia earlier, was the first to catch on.

She asked tentatively, “Why did you want me to stay during your confinement? Was it just to make me take responsibility?”

At the time, she hadn’t thought much of it, but now, considering Chu Zhao’s personality, if she didn’t like someone, she’d tell them to get lost, not hold them accountable.

Asking her to take responsibility and stay by her side every day showed how special she was.

What an idiot she was, needing Sang Xia’s reminder to realize this. So, was she pursuing Chu Zhao, or was Chu Zhao pursuing her?

Chu Zhao was slightly stunned. The topic had shifted so quickly, how did they get here?

Could she admit she couldn’t bear to let Zhou Lan go and used an excuse to keep her close? That was the truth, but she’d never say it out loud.

So…

“You don’t want to stay anymore?”

Taking the initiative, Chu Zhao’s counterquestion sidestepped Zhou Lan’s.

She found it amusing, suspecting Chu Zhao was just being shy.

Then she took the lead. “When I mentioned a business trip, I meant I need to go back to school for a bit to handle some things. I’ll be back in a week at most.”

Chu Zhao lowered her gaze, her lips curving slightly.

For many couples, it wasn’t about opposing their partner’s work but about knowing where they were going, what they were doing, and when they’d be back. Clarity provided the security a partner needed.

“Okay~”

Though just one word, her soft, drawn-out tone sounded almost like a flirt, making Zhou Lan unable to take her eyes off her.

“What are you looking at?”

Chu Zhao, feeling self-conscious under her gaze, thought there might be something on her face.

Zhou Lan leaned back on the sofa, arms crossed, head tilted slightly, her gaze playfully roving over Chu Zhao.

Only when Chu Zhao grew uneasy did she slowly say, “A beautiful person always captivates the eye.”

She never held back on praising Chu Zhao’s beauty.

Chu Zhao, with the typical Eastern reserve, felt shy under Zhou Lan’s directness.

Still, she retorted stubbornly, “A slick tongue only lowers your score.”

Zhou Lan wouldn’t budge on Chu Zhao’s beauty. “For beautiful things, my praise is always sincere.”

She raised her hand, tying her long hair into a messy bun, exposing her slender, fair neck to Chu Zhao’s view.

Seeing the suppressant patch on her neck, Chu Zhao suddenly recalled the comforting scent from their entanglement that day.

With the misunderstanding cleared, thinking back to that moment no longer felt repulsive but strangely warm, the atmosphere turning subtly intimate.