Start by Spending One Billion [Entertainment Industry]-Chapter 110

006 has always been efficient in handling matters. Once the funding recipient was confirmed, the money was transferred immediately.

"Good heavens..."

At the bank Sheng Quan frequently used, a man stared at the screen before him and couldn't help but exclaim. He tried to stand up but realized his legs were trembling.

When he attempted to make a phone call, he found his hands were shaking too.

Finally, steadying himself, he managed to place the call:

"President Chen, you might need to come over..."

Xiahe Bank was one of the most prominent banks in China. By all accounts, its president, Chen Xinghe, held a position of considerable prestige. Such high status and extensive experience naturally shaped her composed demeanor in the face of any situation.

But this time, when she rushed to the bank and saw the numbers on the screen, even she was momentarily stunned: "It's already reached 900 million?"

"Yes, and the amount is still increasing."

A client of Sheng Quan's caliber was never treated as ordinary by the bank. The man who was still slightly trembling was Lin Ming, Sheng Quan's dedicated account manager at this branch.

Sheng Quan's liquid assets in the bank typically ranged from tens of millions to several billion yuan. For such clients, banks always rolled out the red carpet.

Lin Ming had long heard about Sheng Quan's financial prowess, so he served her with utmost caution, terrified that any misstep might prompt her to transfer her funds elsewhere.

Sheng Quan never needed to visit the bank for transactions—Lin Ming handled everything personally. Private banking services were just the basics; he routinely sent gifts and greetings during holidays.

To put it bluntly, if Sheng Quan called him and said, "I’m thinking of changing cars—any recommendations?" this banker would rush to her within an hour, armed with exhaustive research on every possible model, ready to spend an entire day—no, even a whole month—helping her choose.

But Sheng Quan clearly had no such inclinations. Her personal account rarely saw activity, and when it did, it was usually handled by Starlight Entertainment’s representatives.

After an initial period of unease, Lin Ming gradually relaxed, seeing no signs that Sheng Quan intended to take her business elsewhere.

He had even once thought to himself, with relief, How fortunate to have a client who’s steady and undemanding.

And then, today, the "steady and undemanding" Sheng Quan dropped a bombshell.

While Chen Xinghe was still speaking with him, Sheng Quan’s account balance skyrocketed to 1.3 billion.

"President Chen, I’ve checked all the sources—they’re legitimate. But this…"

Lin Ming was at a complete loss. Normally, a massive inflow of funds into a client’s account would be cause for celebration.

But a single account surging to 1.3 billion in such a short time—and still climbing—was beyond anything he’d ever imagined.

He had fantasized about clients depositing large sums before, but never in his wildest dreams had he envisioned something this staggering.

He’d even pinched himself discreetly, confirming from the pain that this wasn’t some absurd hallucination.

Under normal circumstances, the bank’s first suspicion would be money laundering. But after repeated verification, every single transaction was impeccably legal—flawless.

"President Chen, the amount is too substantial. You may need to speak with Sheng Quan personally."

Chen Xinghe watched as the final figure settled at 2 billion. Even for someone accustomed to high-stakes dealings, her heart raced at the sight.

A bank’s liquid reserves certainly exceeded 2 billion, but a single individual’s account holding that much? That was unprecedented.

Sheng Quan…

Her mind flashed to the young client who mostly appeared in entertainment headlines. Then, looking back at the staggering sum before her, Chen Xinghe recalled the rumors.

At her level, information flowed freely. The buzz around the holographic stage project was impossible to miss, and she’d heard whispers about Sheng Quan’s alleged 2-billion-yuan investment.

But those spreading the rumors had doubted its credibility. What did 2 billion in cash represent?

It could buy a skyscraper.

Or fund a hospital.

Or generate endless returns through investments.

The value was too immense. Back then, she hadn’t believed Sheng Quan would pour 2 billion into a mere stage.

Now, she had no choice but to reconsider.

Chen Xinghe narrowed her eyes, recalling Starlight Entertainment’s previous attempts to collaborate with Xiahe Bank. A decision crystallized in her mind.

Pulling out her phone, she told her subordinate, "Leave this to me. I’ll contact Sheng Quan directly."

At the Sheng residence, Sheng Quan had just finished a leisurely horseback ride around her estate’s gardens. Handing the reins to Evan, she took the phone he offered and answered cheerfully:

"President Chen, meeting tomorrow? Of course—time and place are entirely up to you."

After a brief exchange, she hung up and returned the phone to Evan, accepting the soft towel he handed her to dab the sweat from her forehead.

The rhythmic sound of hooves on grass approached from behind as Gu Zhao guided his horse to her side at a leisurely pace. He too took a towel, wiping the light sheen of sweat from his brow.

Turning slightly toward Sheng Quan, his striking light eyes—perhaps from the ride or the sunlight—seemed even paler than usual. His typically cool gaze held an uncharacteristic softness.

But the moment he spoke, that illusion shattered under his businesslike tone.

"Since President Chen has agreed to cooperate, I’ll finalize the documents tonight."

"Exactly. ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‍This takes a huge load off the company’s expansion plans." Sheng Quan’s mood was buoyant—her objective was achieved.

Indeed, she had seized this opportunity to flaunt her financial might before Xiahe Bank, leveraging the 2 billion to make an unforgettable impression.

006’s work was always seamless. Just as it had discreetly amassed assets for Sheng Quan in the past, the funds’ arrival was untraceable, leaving no room for scrutiny.

To Xiahe Bank, Sheng Quan would now appear as an inscrutable figure of unfathomable wealth. And naturally, the stalled negotiations between Starlight Entertainment and the bank would gain momentum.

With substantial loans secured, Starlight would embark on an unprecedented global expansion, positioning itself as the premier backer of the world’s first holographic stage.

Sheng Quan and Gu Zhao exchanged a glance. No words were needed—the shared ambition in their eyes said it all.

True, Starlight was already a behemoth in China’s entertainment industry. But for two relentlessly driven minds, that was far from enough.

The world’s inaugural holographic stage was the perfect opportunity.

—Starlight Entertainment’s debut on the global stage.

Sheng Quan couldn’t wait for that day. The thrill of it surpassed even the joy of admiring countless handsome faces and beauties.

Along this journey, she had harvested various fruits of success, and now that she was about to taste the biggest and sweetest one, of course she was thrilled.

But thrilled as she was, she still kept her wits about her.

Sheng Quan glanced at Gu Zhao beside her. Though his expression remained as composed as a mountain, she doubted his heart was equally calm.

Hadn’t she noticed how his well-manicured, slender fingers were unconsciously stroking the neck of the horse beneath him?

It had to be said—in terms of appearance, Gu Zhao truly lived up to the title of "most handsome CEO." Even his fingers looked several degrees more attractive than anyone else’s.

Under the sunlight, riding on horseback, the girl who still retained her youthful face but carried a far more refined aura than a few years ago suddenly laughed.

Gu Zhao, still immersed in the "charge toward the peak" mindset, was caught off guard by Sheng Quan’s radiant smile, instantly pulled into her lighthearted mood.

His typically expressionless, beautiful face showed rare traces of bewilderment.

Sheng Quan rarely saw him like this, which only made her laugh even more joyfully.

Gu Zhao stared at her, his strikingly beautiful eyes blinking rapidly a few times, as if dazed.

Seeing the usually unflappable Gu Zhao seemingly stunned by her laughter, Sheng Quan, still amused, decided not to tease him further—though teasing him was undeniably fun.

Leaning slightly sideways on her horse, she patted his shoulder:

"Do you remember the first time we met? You said you wanted to build the company into the absolute best, unrivaled at the pinnacle."

Gu Zhao naturally remembered.

But he hadn’t expected Sheng Quan to recall it too—word for word.

Still smiling, her eyes curved into crescents, shimmering with starlight and brimming with ambition and certainty, she said:

"Now, we’ve finally taken the first step."

Gu Zhao gazed at her. The corners of his lips, usually set in a straight line, lifted slightly—just enough to be noticeable.

His heart beat faster than usual, as if playing a melody of joy and ambition, and when he looked at Sheng Quan bathed in sunlight, his light-colored eyes were filled with unwavering resolve.

Once again, he made his promise:

"Yes, we’ve finally taken the first step."

"I assure you, Starlight Entertainment will reach the unrivaled peak."

006 chimed in at the perfect moment: [Host’s career progress: 51%]

[Host’s career progress has surpassed 50%. Please proceed with the prize draw.]

Sheng Quan’s already high spirits soared even further at the mention of the prize draw.

But she suppressed the urge to immediately start drawing and instead told 006: [I’ll save it for when I really need it.]

"Oh, right—has the audition started yet?"

She turned to ask Evan, who had been standing quietly nearby. He nodded:

"Yes, it began at nine this morning. It’s been exactly an hour now."

Sheng Quan dismounted. The early autumn breeze carried a slight chill, but before she could even feel the cold, a coat was draped over her shoulders.

She turned and smiled at the tall man who had placed it there: "Thanks, Jiang Lu."

Jiang Lu’s usually sharp features softened slightly in her presence: "Want to go take a look?"

"Yeah, I’d like to see. It’s been a while since I’ve been part of such a lively event."

Sheng Quan stretched her neck. "Being cooped up at home receiving visitors every day is suffocating."

Besides, based on her understanding of Tu Zhu’s personality, he would definitely show up on the first day of auditions.

After reviewing all the written and video materials about him, Sheng Quan was eager to see the radiant version of him in person.

She looked back at Gu Zhao, who had also dismounted: "Want to come along?"

After a brief hesitation, Gu Zhao replied, "I’ll head back to the company."

Sheng Quan wasn’t surprised at all.

Gu Zhao practically lived in his office. The only reason he’d come to her place for horseback riding today was because she’d insisted.

Still, there was progress.

Two years ago, she would’ve had to threaten him with company documents just to get him to step outside.

Now, after a few invitations, he’d actually agree.

Sheng Quan felt a sense of accomplishment about this.

She was quite satisfied with the good rapport she had with her subordinates—it was leagues better than her "slavedriver" boss in her past life.

Under Jiang Lu’s escort, Sheng Quan boarded her comfortable mode of transportation: a helicopter.

Another day without traffic jams.

Wu Ying had been truly foresighted when she chose a building with a helipad as the audition venue.

Audition Building.

Tu Zhu and his lawyer friend, who had volunteered to accompany him, had just stepped out of the car when they heard the sound of a helicopter overhead.

Looking up, they caught sight of a sleek, stylish helicopter approaching the building’s rooftop.

The lawyer friend muttered, "Damn rich people," before suddenly realizing: "Wait—is that Sheng Quan?!"

There were quite a few wealthy individuals in the city who traveled by helicopter now, but this was the audition building for the holographic stage competition—a project Sheng Quan had spearheaded.

The likelihood of it being her was extremely high.

Though it had nothing to do with him, the lawyer couldn’t contain his excitement:

"Tu Zhu! This is great! If Sheng Quan is really here—she’s famous for her sharp eye for talent, only caring about ability—if you can catch her attention, you’ll skyrocket overnight!"

Tu Zhu had realized it even faster.

He had always held deep admiration for Sheng Quan and recognized her helicopter immediately.

But the faint glimmer of hope in his eyes—eyes that seemed too weary for his age—flickered out almost instantly.

"Ma Tong, it’s not that easy. It’s even less likely than a pipe dream."

"How is it a pipe dream? It’s a hopeful possibility! And I really think there’s a chance. If Chairwoman Sheng Quan appreciates you—ah, just thinking about it is thrilling."

The eighteen-year-old boy seemed about to glance upward again as he climbed the steps, but in the end, he lowered his gaze. Despite his youth, his entire demeanor carried an air of exhaustion.

"It won’t happen. Stop talking about it."

"Tu Zhu..."

Tu Zhu paused and looked at him:

"Ma Tong, I know you mean well, but... even I can’t appreciate myself anymore."

He raised his head slightly, his once radiant and delicate face now etched with self-mockery:

"Tell me—who could possibly appreciate someone like me now?"

Ma Tong fell silent for a moment before sighing and patting Tu Zhu’s shoulder gently. "It’ll get better. One day, it will."

"Though... you should just call me Ma Ge from now on. Drop the full name."