Chapter 80: Dispute

All along, Lin Chuan had never spoken a word about his family, never once mentioning it to outsiders. The only ones privy to what had transpired between him and An Xi’er were Wang Yue and Yuan Ye. For a reporter to open with such a sensitive question—especially using the term “stepmother,” which sounded particularly grating—was enough to elicit a trace of anger on Lin Chuan’s otherwise composed and mature face.

Just as he was about to lose his temper, Uncle Gao quickly intervened, lowering his voice, “Don’t rush. Let me handle this.”

Lin Chuan glanced at him, nodded slightly, and forced down his irritation.

“My friend from the media, may I ask where you got the idea that we’re looking for a stepmother for the child? Oh, and as far as I know, the country hasn’t legalized polygamy, has it?” Gao Mingyuan responded with a genial smile, his tone half-joking as he turned the question back on the reporter.

A burst of laughter instantly filled the room. All eyes from the other journalists landed on the offending reporter.

The latter flushed crimson, stammered for a long moment, then finally slunk back to his seat in silence.

It was a shrewd response—it tested the reporter’s knowledge, revealing he knew little about Lin Chuan, and neatly shut down further speculation.

The previously tense atmosphere lightened considerably. Gao Mingyuan smiled as he swept his gaze around the assembled journalists. “If anyone has any other questions, please go ahead.”

“Mr. Lin, what are your next plans? Will you be releasing an album?”

“Mr. Lin…”

This time, the questions were within bounds, and Lin Chuan answered each in turn. For those he felt were inconvenient, Gao Mingyuan stepped in to respond.

The press conference continued until four in the afternoon before officially concluding.

At Tian Di Cultural Management Company, Lin Chuan and Gao Mingyuan sat in the office, discussing the steps ahead.

“Xiaochuan, now that the news about your signing with Tian Di Culture has been made public, there’s no need for secrecy anymore. I’ll pick out a few assistants from the company for you—they can help with both work and daily life,” Gao Mingyuan said, smiling.

Lin Chuan nodded. He was no longer the person he had been before; he didn’t need to fight his battles alone any longer. With more responsibilities ahead and a son to look after, assistants and even a nanny were indispensable.

“All right, Uncle Gao, I’ll follow your advice,” Lin Chuan replied with a calm smile.

But just then, the door was flung open with a bang.

Gao Meng strode in. “Dad, I heard you’re looking for an assistant for Lin Chuan?”

Lin Chuan and Gao Mingyuan exchanged glances. The latter nodded, a hint of surprise in his eyes.

“Dad, the company’s so busy now, everyone has their own work to do. I’m free anyway, so why not let me be Lin Chuan’s assistant?” Gao Meng suggested, glancing aside.

“You?” Gao Mingyuan was taken aback and couldn’t help but look at Lin Chuan.

He knew his daughter’s temperament all too well—she’d never had a hard day in her life and had barely done any chores.

For her to volunteer to be an assistant—no easy job—could she really handle it? Uncle Gao was skeptical.

More importantly, the girl had always shown Lin Chuan a certain hostility; this…

“Uncle Gao, why don’t we let Mengmeng give it a try? Don’t worry, I won’t make things difficult for her,” Lin Chuan said.

Make things difficult for her? Oh, I’m only worried she’ll make things difficult for you. Uncle Gao smiled wryly and shook his head but kept those words to himself.

Since Lin Chuan had agreed, he saw no reason to object. He turned to Gao Meng. “Mengmeng, being an assistant is hard work. You’ll be responsible for Xiaochuan’s daily life, coordinating his work, arranging his schedule…”

Patiently, Gao Mingyuan explained the basic duties of an assistant. Gao Meng listened attentively—if someone didn’t know her, they might have mistaken this mischievous girl for an ambitious young woman.

…

That evening, Lin Chuan still dominated the headlines across major entertainment news outlets. Although many had already heard through the grapevine that Lin Chuan had signed with a small management company in the capital, the official announcement still sparked considerable debate online.

Some understood his decision. After all, Lin Chuan wasn’t a full-time entertainer—he was a single father, with a son to care for. A smaller company like Tian Di Culture meant less competition and a more relaxed environment.

Of course, many were frustrated. With his talent and fame, Lin Chuan could have chosen a much larger company and gained a broader stage.

Days passed, the debate gradually subsided but never truly disappeared. Whenever news about Lin Chuan emerged—no matter the subject—it inevitably circled back to his contract with Tian Di Culture.

That very morning, Lin Chuan was spotted on the streets of the capital with his son and photographed, the images quickly spreading online. Ordinarily, it would have been nothing significant, but it soon became a battleground. The same topic, the same two camps of netizens clashed fiercely once again under this innocuous news post.

Meanwhile, in a luxurious office, a young and beautiful woman stood before a floor-to-ceiling window, gazing down at the vast expanse of the capital.

At that moment, the office door was thrust open, and a striking foreign man with blond hair and blue eyes strode in.

The woman turned slowly. Her features were fresh and refined, her presence exuding a natural, mature allure. The foreigner who entered couldn’t help but stare in awe.

She was breathtakingly beautiful, with light makeup and none of the harsh scent of perfume. Any man, upon seeing her, would be captivated.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, the blond man grinned, shrugged, and said in English, “Zhao, you’re as beautiful as ever. Even I might get a nosebleed just looking at you.”

“Thank you, Jason,” the woman replied with a radiant smile, answering in fluent English and gesturing for him to sit.

“These are the materials you requested. It took quite some effort to collect them—I hope they’ll be useful to you,” Jason said, handing over a folder.

She took it, leafed through it briefly, and saw detailed information on various celebrities—some established stars, some newcomers. When she reached the last page, she found Lin Chuan, who had just announced his signing with Tian Di Cultural Management.

The woman lingered over Lin Chuan’s profile for a few seconds, then looked up at the blond man. “Jason, do you have any recommendations?”

“My recommendation?” Jason smiled, then continued, “Our company has just entered the Chinese market. We need a well-known celebrity to promote our brand, so I suggest that only someone with sufficient popularity can achieve the desired effect…”

She nodded. “You’re right. We do need a celebrity for brand endorsement. Do you have anyone suitable in mind?”

“Me? Zhao, you’re the CEO appointed to China by the company. Such major decisions are far above my pay grade,” Jason replied, though it was clear he didn’t take the ‘CEO’ title seriously.

She understood this well. Officially, he had been sent to assist her, but the true purpose was obvious to both. Still, she would not compromise today; if their opinions clashed, she would exercise her authority.

“Jason, you’ve been with the company for years and have a lot of experience with these matters. I hope you’ll share your advice,” she said with a modest smile.

Jason, pleased by her deference, crossed his legs and affected a thoughtful air before replying, “I think Shen Peng from Yoyo Company fits our requirements. Most importantly, he’s affordable, and fairly well-known in China…”

She quickly found Shen Peng’s profile among the celebrity files and studied it closely.

Shen Peng was one of Yoyo’s top stars, thirty-six this year. He’d signed with Yoyo after placing second in a singing competition years ago.

In the past two years, he’d acted in two films and a television drama, albeit always in supporting roles, but had built a steady fan base and was considered a second-tier star.

Jiang Xia had always regarded him as a treasure, investing heavily in his career.

After a moment, the woman exhaled softly, lifted her head, and said, “Shen Peng is quite good and fits our company’s requirements in many ways. But with a five-million endorsement fee… Jason, don’t you think that for the same price, we could find someone better?”

Jason, who had been lounging confidently on the sofa, straightened abruptly at the words “someone better.” “Zhao, did I hear you right? There’s someone more suitable? Who?”

She smiled serenely, drew the last page from the folder, and placed it on the coffee table, tapping it lightly. “He’s a better fit for our needs.”

“Lin Chuan? A newcomer nobody? No, no, Zhao, you don’t understand—he’s not what we’re looking for,” Jason protested, shaking his head vigorously.

“Jason, I’d like to know why he’s not suitable. Give me one reason,” she replied, her expression frosty.

Jason faltered, unsettled—it was the first time he’d seen her angry. Though he looked down on his Chinese superior, her aura left him momentarily cowed.

After a long pause, he stammered, “Zhao, you’re being too arbitrary… If you insist on choosing him as our brand ambassador, I… I’ll have to call headquarters and report this…”

“That’s your right. I won’t interfere,” she replied coldly and calmly.