Chapter 44: Ambition and Courage

The old man opened the door and walked in. With a cheerful smile, he cast a glance around and said, “What national matters are you conspiring about that require a closed door?”

“Heh, Dad, I was just chatting with Xiao Chuan about our school days. By the way, what’s for dinner tonight? I’m starving—shouldn’t we start cooking?” Yuan Ye forced a laugh, deliberately trying to change the topic.

But the old man’s eyes widened and the smile vanished from his face, replaced by a stern seriousness. “You little rascal, don’t try to distract me. Don’t think I don’t know what little schemes are brewing in that head of yours.”

“Uh.” Yuan Ye scratched the back of his head, momentarily at a loss for words.

Lin Chuan was standing off to the side at this point, inwardly uneasy for reasons he couldn’t quite articulate—perhaps because Yuan Ye had dragged him to the TV station today to play the role of a “local tycoon.”

“Xiao Chuan, let me ask you, what is the most important thing for someone who wants to succeed?” The old man’s gaze shifted to Lin Chuan.

“Success? Uh… Opportunity?” Lin Chuan was caught off guard.

“That’s really what you think?” the old man asked, half-smiling.

“Then… what else is there?” Lin Chuan was starting to feel exasperated. The old man seemed off today.

“Dad, stop beating around the bush and just say what you want to say,” Yuan Ye urged.

The old man shot a glare at his “good-for-nothing” son before continuing, “To succeed, apart from opportunity, you need ambition and courage. Right now, you both have the opportunity—but whether you possess the ambition and the guts…”

At these words, Lin Chuan and Yuan Ye exchanged a glance. Anyone with half a brain could tell the old man was speaking in riddles.

If they weren’t mistaken, he’d already learned of their plan to “acquire” the TV station.

Sure enough, seeing their silence, the old man smiled faintly and said, “Don’t think your little operations are so secret that you can hide them from me. Don’t forget, I’ve worked at the TV station my whole life—there are still a few people I’m close with.”

Well, now even an idiot would understand what’s going on.

As station director, the old man was probably the first to know of the impending closure. Lin Chuan and Yuan Ye had wanted to keep this from him, afraid he’d worry himself sick and perhaps fall ill. Because of this, they’d overlooked the most crucial fact: the old man was the director—how could he not have confidants?

Lin Chuan forced an awkward laugh. There was no way to keep up the pretense now.

The old man sighed, his eyes flickering as he spoke, “The station’s closure is no secret. I understand your concerns, worried I’d get worked up over it. I appreciate the thought. But acting rashly when problems arise is foolish—just like your plan to buy out the station’s shares today. Why not discuss it with me first?”

“Dad, don’t be upset, let us explain…”

“Save it. Only you, you rascal, could come up with such a harebrained scheme.” The old man glared so fiercely that Yuan Ye shrank back, not daring to make a sound.

“Uncle Yuan, don’t blame him. Yuan Ye didn’t think it through, but he meant well. He knows how much the TV station means to you, and with this crisis coming right before your retirement, he worried you wouldn’t take it well, so he…” Lin Chuan hurried to explain.

The old man drew a deep breath, looked at Lin Chuan, then at the silent Yuan Ye, and finally nodded, his expression still grave. “Tell me in detail what happened with the acquisition today.”

“Uh… well, I was at the old house with Yangyang, and then Yuan Ye called me…” Lin Chuan recounted everything from beginning to end, leaving nothing out.

Yuan Ye chimed in from time to time, making the story even clearer.

It didn’t take long before the room fell silent again. Lin Chuan and Yuan Ye stood quietly to the side, while the old man sat with a tense expression, lost in thought.

“Xiao Chuan, if the TV station were entrusted to you, how confident are you that you could revive it? What I mean is, at least keep it from closing.” Suddenly, the old man asked in a measured tone.

Lin Chuan was stunned. He glanced at Yuan Ye and replied, “Uncle Yuan, I don’t know the first thing about running a TV station. I can’t make any promises. But Yuan Ye has worked there for years—if he’s in charge, there might be more hope.”

“Him?” The old man snorted, the contempt obvious.

No matter how cocky Yuan Ye could be elsewhere, in front of his father he was like a mouse before a cat, not daring to breathe loudly. Even if he was disgruntled, he had no choice but to swallow it.

“Lack of knowledge isn’t the problem. What matters is if you have ambition and courage. Without those, no matter how many opportunities come your way, you’ll never seize them…” the old man said earnestly.

Lin Chuan and Yuan Ye listened in silence, nodding and agreeing at appropriate moments.

Finally, as the old man finished, he pulled a bankbook from his pocket, opened it, and said, “These are my accumulated savings over the years. I’d meant them for this rascal’s wedding, but now I’ll let you handle it.”

“Dad!” Yuan Ye gasped softly in surprise.

The old man was displeased. His eyes grew even rounder as he barked, “What, you’re not willing?”

“No, I’m willing, I’m willing.” Yuan Ye smiled, but there was a faint mist in his eyes.

From childhood, the old man had always been strict with Yuan Ye, convinced he’d never grow up or do anything well.

But never in his wildest dreams did Yuan Ye expect, at this crucial moment, the old man would hand over his life’s savings. The amount didn’t matter—the gesture alone spoke volumes.

The old man had finally begun to recognize him, deep down.

Lin Chuan was moved by the scene. He took the bankbook from the old man, opened it, and was stunned.

A string of digits—he’d never seen so much money in his life. One and a half million. How many lifetimes would it take to earn that?

Lin Chuan was awash with emotion.

“This isn’t much. It may not help much, but at least it’ll ease some of the pressure,” the old man said, ignoring his “good-for-nothing” son and offering a gentle smile to Lin Chuan.

“No, Uncle Yuan, this is more than enough…” Lin Chuan said, clutching the bankbook and nodding firmly.

“Good. It’s getting late, the little one is still waiting outside. I’ll cook. When dinner’s ready, I’ll call you.” The old man nodded. As he turned to leave, his voice suddenly grew heavy, “Thank you.”

Lin Chuan froze. That word “thank you” struck him like lightning, leaving him rooted to the spot.

Watching the old man’s retreating figure, Lin Chuan realized he suddenly seemed younger, his step lighter.

That “thank you” was far from a simple phrase. It carried the old man’s hope and affection for the TV station, as well as his trust in Lin Chuan and his son.

At that moment, Lin Chuan silently vowed that as long as he was around, the TV station would never vanish.

As for how to proceed, he’d need time to plan carefully. After all, Lin Chuan had been reborn with memories of his previous life—even if he knew nothing about running a TV station, he’d at least seen how things were done.

“Xiao Chuan, the old man trusts you so much—don’t let us down!” Yuan Ye patted Lin Chuan’s shoulder, a satisfied grin on his face.

“How about you sign the contract tomorrow? After all, I’m not putting in a penny and I’m getting a TV station for nothing—it just feels off,” Lin Chuan replied, smiling.

He wasn’t joking—he truly felt uneasy about it. But whether Yuan Ye agreed or not, Lin Chuan was determined to help make the TV station thrive.

He couldn’t guarantee the best, but he was confident he could make a difference.

“Forget it, I don’t want the headache. Since the old man’s handed you the responsibility, you have to shoulder it—don’t feel pressured, don’t overthink it. Young man, we’re all counting on you…” Yuan Ye said, grinning mischievously.

“Don’t get cocky, there’s only one and a half million here—we’re still missing half. What’s your plan?” Lin Chuan rolled his eyes.

“What’s the rush? I need something to do, don’t I? These are my life’s savings—over six hundred thousand. For the remaining nine hundred thousand, I’ll sell my car and borrow from friends. We’ll manage, don’t worry.” Yuan Ye produced another bankbook.

In just a short while, Lin Chuan was holding two bankbooks, overnight becoming a millionaire.

But at the same time, he felt the weight on his shoulders grow heavier.

…

After dinner, Lin Chuan and the old man sat in the living room watching TV. It was still Quancheng TV, airing a domestic gunfight film from years ago.

Fifty-cent special effects paired with eighty-cent acting—the result was a truly atrocious film. Yet this very film had been broadcast repeatedly on Quancheng TV for nearly two years, appearing every few days.

Lin Yiyang had no interest in such movies. He sprawled over the coffee table, drawing with complete focus, occasionally pausing in thought, looking utterly adorable.

As for Yuan Ye, he’d rushed out after dinner, saying nothing, but both Lin Chuan and the old man knew he’d gone to scrape together the rest of the money.

“Xiao Chuan, what do you think of this movie?” the old man suddenly asked.

Lin Chuan paused, frowning slightly. “You want the truth?”

“Of course. Say whatever you like,” the old man replied with a smile.

“Terrible. Absolutely terrible. I’ve never seen such an awful film,” Lin Chuan said bluntly.

“Hmm. I agree—this film is dreadful, truly awful,” the old man, director of Quancheng TV, joined in the critique.

Lin Chuan was left speechless by this turn of events.

…