The Cannon Fodder Alpha Who Made the Heroine Pregnant - Chapter 72

72:

Zhou Lan’s three-day trip to Hollens was short but packed with accomplishments.

She met numerous professional musicians, and if Chu Yue could collaborate with these teams, it would be a significant boost for the company.

Partnering with such professional teams could attract established singers to work with Chu Yue.

Nurturing new talent didn’t conflict with collaborating with already successful artists.

Many accomplished singers, dissatisfied with their current companies’ treatment and unable to thrive independently, had much to consider.

Who wouldn’t want better prospects? Chu Yue’s association with these teams could draw talent just by reputation alone.

Chu Zhao was an exceptional person, unwilling to let Chu Yue stagnate. Currently in the midst of relocating its headquarters, Chu Zhao had a brief moment to breathe.

Once Chu Yue settled in Luoan, Chu Zhao would be swamped for who knew how long.

To ease Chu Zhao’s burden, Zhou Lan felt she had to contribute.

Zhou Lan was used to solitude and shied away from socializing. Yet, in just a few days, her phone filled with new contacts, all to lend a hand when Chu Zhao needed it.

They were in love, partners, each other’s emotional anchor, and they had to share responsibilities.

She couldn’t just say, “I’m here for you,” and then watch Chu Zhao toil under immense pressure, growing weary, with nothing to offer but sympathy.

If their industries were unrelated, fine. But as a talented musician, Zhou Lan had much to offer Chu Yue.

If she reverted to her old ways—hiding in a studio, acting like a reclusive genius waiting for others to seek her out—she’d be of little help to Chu Yue.

She needed to proactively advance her career. The stronger she became, the more she could do for Chu Zhao when needed.

In those three days, Zhou Lan’s talent won over Daisy’s team. They expressed willingness to collaborate with her in China.

Moreover, she hit it off with Korte Entertainment’s music director, bonding over music.

The additional songs Korte bought were approved by the director—Rand—who, coincidentally, was also a Hollens Music School graduate—her senior, or even “uncle” in academic terms. Their musical philosophies aligned, making them fast friends despite the age gap.

She learned from Rand that Korte was planning to open a branch in China, with preparations already underway.

Korte wasn’t just an entertainment company; it spanned major brands, entertainment, and fashion resources, including artist management, record labels, and film production.

Chu Yue had both singers and actors.

If Chu Yue could establish initial cooperation with Korte, it could lead to more opportunities.

Zhou Lan wasn’t one to act unilaterally. Upon learning about Korte’s plans, she called Chu Zhao via video as soon as she woke up, and they discussed it.

Chu Zhao agreed. “It would be great for Chu Yue to collaborate with Korte.”

But she also understood Korte’s needs. “Entering the Chinese market isn’t easy for Korte. They need a local partner. Chu Yue isn’t their top choice, but the companies they want may not want them.”

“Chu Yue isn’t currently in Korte’s scope, but by the time Korte enters the market, Chu Yue won’t be at its current scale.”

“Collaboration isn’t about equal mutual aid, it’s about leverage. Whether with Korte or others, Chu Yue must have absolute control, or I’d rather not cooperate.”

Chu Zhao was responsible for the company and its artists and staff.

The entertainment industry was rife with scandals anyone could name. But Chu Yue was a legitimate company, and leverage was crucial.

Zhou Lan understood. “There are many ways to collaborate. I get your point.”

Collaboration required patience, not haste.

More than that, Chu Zhao was curious about something else. “According to your timeline, you’ve been in this world for just six months, yet you’ve earned tens of millions. How did you do it?”

Chu Zhao wasn’t doubting Zhou Lan. Thinking of the song she’d heard Zhou Lan sing on the surveillance footage, she wondered how exceptional her songs were to command such value and secure a collaboration with Daisy.

She suddenly realized how little she knew about Zhou Lan.

She rarely asked about Zhou Lan’s situation. While Zhou Lan never hid anything, she didn’t volunteer details either.

As Sang Xia put it, one was reserved, the other restrained. A month into dating, they probably hadn’t even kissed.

Chu Zhao retorted stubbornly, “Who wants to kiss?”

As Chu Zhao expected, Zhou Lan never hid anything she wanted to know.

“Ming Xiao Zhou is my pen name.”

Chu Zhao: “…”

“You’re Ming Xiao Zhou?”

“Yeah.”

Zhou Lan recounted meeting Hua Qiao, selling her first song, releasing an album, working with Get Lost Band, and how opportunities flooded in after her success.

She detailed submitting songs to Daisy’s team, sharing everything thoroughly.

Chu Zhao was genuinely shocked. Zhou Lan had said she was an accomplished musician in her past life, but Chu Zhao hadn’t realized she was this accomplished.

Others might not know Ming Xiao Zhou, but as an industry insider and Chu Yue’s boss, Chu Zhao was familiar with the name.

Hua Qiao had mentioned securing a deal with Ming Xiao Zhou for CYC’s new album, all featuring her songs.

Chu Zhao hadn’t objected, trusting Hua Qiao’s expertise.

Hua Qiao was an excellent music producer with a keen eye, evident in Chu Yue’s growing success.

When CYC debuted, Hua Qiao’s choice to buy songs from a newcomer was questioned internally. The results proved her right, CYC soared because of Ming Xiao Zhou’s songs.

But Chu Zhao never imagined Ming Xiao Zhou was Zhou Lan.

She recalled Zhou Lan’s songs fetching 600,000–700,000 yuan each. After Daisy’s album, her value would likely skyrocket.

Top-tier musicians commanding millions were rare—countable on two hands. Soon, Ming Xiao Zhou’s name would be among them.

Chu Zhao knew Zhou Lan was talented but hadn’t grasped the extent.

Ming Xiao Zhou’s songs were hyped to the point that one could propel a rookie to third-tier status, and an album could launch them to first-tier.

CYC became a top group thanks to Ming Xiao Zhou’s songs and the talent show’s buzz.

Both were essential, but they still needed an album and tour to solidify their status.

CYC’s prospects were bright, with Ming Xiao Zhou as the biggest contributor.

Get Lost Band’s rise to first-tier status was also largely due to Ming Xiao Zhou.

Singers collaborating with Ming Xiao Zhou were preparing releases, even if just singles to maintain popularity.

Ming Xiao Zhou was currently the hottest musician in the entertainment industry.

Chu Zhao knew exactly what that name signified.

Reviewing Ming Xiao Zhou’s achievements in her mind, she looked at Zhou Lan on the video call.

“I’m shocked you’re Ming Xiao Zhou, but…”

After organizing her thoughts, she said, “It makes sense. I can’t imagine anyone else.”

The song Zhou Lan sang on the surveillance footage lingered in her memory, proof of her brilliance.

“Sorry for not telling you sooner.”

Zhou Lan was used to her songs being sought after and didn’t think much of it. She hadn’t told Chu Zhao partly because there was no chance, and partly because her collaboration with Chu Yue was coincidental. Mentioning it deliberately might seem like she was trying to get close.

Given Chu Zhao’s wariness back then, it could have made her more guarded.

Later, with everything that happened, there wasn’t a good moment to bring it up.

Chu Zhao shook her head. “It’s fine. I’m just shocked you’re Ming Xiao Zhou.”

“You probably don’t realize how many singers and companies want to work with you, including Chu Yue.”

How could Zhou Lan not know? Her phone was flooded with contact requests daily.

“My collaboration with Chu Yue has been great.”

She wanted to explain her reasons for working with Chu Yue, but the truth was, Chu Zhao was a factor.

She admitted honestly, “Alright, I thought after Jiangning, you might cut me off. I wanted to stay connected as Ming Xiao Zhou, even if it was through Hua Qiao.”

“Besides, working with Chu Yue was the first step in launching my career. It accelerated my start.”

She simply didn’t want to lose contact with Chu Zhao, even if it was a connection Chu Zhao wouldn’t know about. That was enough.

Only now did Zhou Lan realize she’d liked Chu Zhao that early, just unaware of it.

Recalling past events—her harsh attitude toward Zhou Lan and Zhou Lan’s aggrieved expressions—Chu Zhao felt both amused and regretful.

She hadn’t known Zhou Lan wasn’t the original Zhou Lan and had treated her poorly, making her feel sorry for Zhou Lan.

Instead of continuing the topic, she asked, “When are you coming back?”

Zhou Lan answered obediently, “The day after tomorrow at the latest.”

Tomorrow, she’d buy everything on her shopping list and head back.

Three days without Chu Zhao had filled her heart with longing.

Staring at Chu Zhao’s beautiful face on the screen, Zhou Lan’s throat moved subtly, a dry sensation creeping in as her heart raced. Seeing Chu Zhao on a screen wasn’t enough anymore.

She couldn’t wait to return, hug Chu Zhao, kiss her, and fill the void of her longing with intimate closeness.

Zhou Lan’s eyes brimmed with affection, stirring Chu Zhao’s heart, leaving her captivated and unable to pull away.