Chapter 11 – Is Choice More Important Than Effort

As long as life is bearable, even a hint of green on one’s head is acceptable.

Guan Lan began to feel that Chen Jin’s request for him to pretend to be his current boyfriend had nothing to do with tormenting scumbag gongs—it was purely an act of showing off.

According to Guan Lan’s simple worldview, if you’ve slept together, then just get back together. But Chen Jin insisted that sleeping together and being in a relationship were two different things and should never be confused.

Guan Lan: “Fine. But I can’t keep pretending to be your fake boyfriend forever. When do you think it’ll be convenient for you to dump me?”

Chen Jin: “Breaking up right after showing off our relationship? That would be slapping my own face. I’ll dump you once I find someone else. Don’t worry, my single period won’t last too long.”

Guan Lan: “The moment you two cuckolded me, your relationship show was already a complete failure, okay?”

Guan Lan: “And why does it have to be you finding someone else? Can’t I be the one to get into a relationship first?”

Chen Jin: “…Darling, if we’re waiting for you to get into a relationship, we’ll probably grow old together.”

Guan Lan thought to himself, as if having this clingy, domineering ex around would make it any easier for you to find someone else.

————————————————————————————

This week, Guan Lan had an important schedule: attending the birthday party of the little princess, Lin Shize.

Lin Shize was the daughter of Guan Lan’s mentor, Lin Xuewen, a first-generation golden producer, and the young princess born to the real estate tycoon Yang Peiming when he was nearly fifty. From birth, she was already at the top of the pyramid. Guan Lan had attended her birthday party last year and came away with one thought: reincarnation is a skill.

This year’s celebration was even grander than last year’s because her father insisted that turning six was a milestone and had to be celebrated extravagantly.

Guan Lan really didn’t know which tradition considered six years old a milestone.

The Yang family had three brothers, with a significant age gap between them. The eldest, Yang Peiming, took over the family business, mainly in real estate and traditional manufacturing. The second, Yang Peining, used the family’s funds and his own connections to secure some venture capital and founded Tianlong Entertainment, which grew into an industry giant over twenty years. The third, Yang Peiqing, started as a manager under Yang Peining, worked his way up to become the head of the artists’ department, and is now the second-in-command at Tianlong, waiting to take over from his second brother.

The Yang family was a 99K-rich household.

Lin Xuewen had always been quite low-key. When Guan Lan was her apprentice, he only knew that her husband was a company CEO and had no idea she was the sister-in-law of his boss. It wasn’t until later, when his position and status in the industry rose enough to enter the social circles of the big shots, that he learned about this connection.

Lin Xuewen complained to him: “In my opinion, such a young child doesn’t need a birthday party. Just invite some close friends and celebrate with family. But her father is just like that—he loves grand spectacles and has to make a big scene so the whole world knows. It’s all about showing off.”

Guan Lan understood that this wasn’t a complaint—it was a display of affection.

He suddenly remembered what Chen Jin had said about Yang Peiqing: “He’s just someone who loves to show off.”

…Are they really brothers?

Guan Lan: “She’s the apple of your eye, so naturally, you can never spoil her enough. If I had a daughter as adorable as Shishi, I’d want to show her off every day too.”

His words were pleasing, subtly complimenting both the daughter and the husband. Lin Xuewen’s tone unconsciously became more cheerful: “Just come over when the time comes. Don’t bother preparing any gifts. What does a child of her age need? Her father has already spoiled her rotten. It’s been a while since we’ve talked, so let’s have a good chat.”

Guan Lan: “Yes, I’ve been looking forward to catching up with you too.”

Even so, a gift was definitely necessary.

He ordered a custom-made ukulele from a high-end instrument shop, designed in a cute style that little girls would love, with the characters “Shize” engraved on the body.

Whether the little princess would like this gift or not, Guan Lan wasn’t sure, but her mother would definitely appreciate it.

Sure enough, on the day of the party, amidst the dazzling array of stars and big shots, and the pile of gifts collectively worth a decent car, Lin Xuewen immediately spotted the small instrument.

She led her daughter over to Guan Lan: “I knew this was from you. Only you would put so much thought into it.”

Guan Lan: “In the old days, Shishi would be considered my junior sister. As her senior, I don’t have much to offer, but I can at least pass on the craft of our school. I hope Shishi will love art just like her mother.”

Lin Shize, who had apparently been watching TV dramas recently, clasped her hands in a formal salute: “Thank you, senior brother.”

Guan Lan was charmed: “Ah, suddenly I feel twenty years younger.”

Lin Xuewen, nearly fifty, looked like she could pass for thirty, thanks to her affluent and happy life.

Lin Xuewen: “Alright, I’ll go greet some other guests. Wait here for me, and we’ll have a good talk later.”

Guan Lan could see that the Yang family doted on this little girl like she was the apple of their eye. Her second uncle, Yang Peining, gifted her a live-action and CGI children’s movie, investing tens of millions and buying theater screenings to release it on her birthday. The opening credits featured a ten-second dedication: “For Shishi.” He also stated that if the movie lost money, it would be on him, and if it made money, it would be for his niece. Her third uncle, Yang Peiqing, wasn’t as extravagant but still quite generous, commissioning a large dollhouse carved from a whole piece of ice jade that shimmered beautifully under the light. As for her father, he went all out by investing in a theme park named after her, which opened on her birthday.

It was clear that the Yang men loved grand displays, embodying the nouveau riche style.

No wonder Yang Yuze, the eldest son of the Yang family, said, “Since my sister was born, I’ve become the afterthought in my parents’ eyes—the one they picked up during an online shopping spree, bundled with free shipping and cashback. My status is even lower than our Samoyed.”

At just six years old, Lin Shize already possessed what most people could never achieve in a lifetime.

Guan Lan quickly stopped himself from dwelling on this, or he’d be up all night.

After attending to all the guests, Lin Xuewen found a quiet balcony to sit and chat with Guan Lan.

Guan Lan teased her: “We should sit somewhere where Yang Peiming can see us, or he’ll start suspecting me again. I just saw him glare at me earlier.”

Lin Xuewen: “Don’t mind him. He’s just being ridiculous. At your age, you could’ve been my son in the old days. He just has too much time on his hands. Now, tell me, how have things been lately?”

Guan Lan, who had been fighting his own battles outside, could only allow himself to act a little spoiled in front of his mentor: “I’ve been hoping day and night that you’d come back. It’s been tough out there, with no big tree to lean on.”

Lin Xuewen: “What do you need a big tree for? Are you a delicate flower? The market changes so quickly nowadays, and public tastes shift daily. I’ve been away from the frontlines for too long, and my perspective can’t keep up. This is your era now. We old folks can’t compare to you.”

Guan Lan: “People’s careers last longer these days. You’re not even fifty yet—you’re in your prime. Shishi is about to start school, so you might want to consider coming back.”

Lin Xuewen sighed softly: “To be honest, I’m tired of being a full-time housewife. It’s boring. But even if I do come back, I can’t go to Tianlong. I’ve kept a low profile before, so there weren’t any issues. Now that everyone in the company knows I’m Yang Peiming’s wife and the sister-in-law of Tianlong’s big boss, what’s the point of working? I’d just be caught up in office politics. Besides, it’s awkward for Peining. I’m both his employee and his sister-in-law. How should he manage me? Should he treat me as family or as an employee? I don’t want to cause trouble for him.”

Lin Xuewen: “But enough about me. What about you? What are your plans?”

Guan Lan began to report on his work: “The path I’ve been on is still viable, but I’m starting to feel like I’m nearing the end of it. I’m exploring new styles, but I don’t have any concrete ideas yet. It’s more like I’m feeling my way forward. I have a few newcomers I’m planning to sign, and one of them seems very promising…”

He went on to detail his current situation, and Lin Xuewen listened with a furrowed brow. When he finished, she sighed: “That’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking if you’ve made any plans for yourself.”

Guan Lan was taken aback, not immediately understanding what she meant by “for yourself.”

Lin Xuewen: “I’ve heard some rumors that Tianlong is considering shutting down the music department and halting all music-related operations. Did you know that?”

Guan Lan felt his blood run cold.

Guan Lan: “No one’s told me… Why? Such a big department, so many people, and it’s not even losing money. How can they just shut it down?”

Lin Xuewen: “Don’t panic yet. Nothing’s set in stone. Peining definitely doesn’t want to shut it down, but some shareholders have been complaining that the music division’s revenue has been stagnant for years with no improvement. They think it’s better to cut it off before it starts losing money.”

Guan Lan exhaled heavily: “Killing the donkey before it’s even finished grinding—that’s too hasty.”

Lin Xuewen: “For now, Peining still has the final say at Tianlong. As long as he’s against it, there’s no immediate danger. Besides, I also have shares in Tianlong and can attend shareholder meetings. Don’t worry, nothing will happen in the next few years. I’m just letting you know that there’s a possibility, so you should start planning ahead.”

Guan Lan: “…Sister Xuewen, to be honest, I’ve never really thought about these things.”

Lin Xuewen: “I knew you wouldn’t have considered it. Even without this situation, you should think about it. At Tianlong, you’ve already reached the pinnacle of your position—there’s no higher to climb. In ten years, when Peiqing takes over, if you’ve maintained a good relationship with him, you might become a vice president based on your seniority.”

…Guan Lan silently thought, that’s no longer possible. I’ve already offended Yang Peiqing—I cuckolded him, and he cuckolded me. It’s safe to say we’re mortal enemies now.

Lin Xuewen: “But in these ten years, there are too many variables. Tianlong is at its peak now, but in this industry, even the hottest news only stays in the headlines for half a day. Someone who becomes famous overnight this year might be forgotten by next year. No company can guarantee it’ll always be at the forefront. Even if you survive these ten years and become a vice president, is that what you want? Is that your career goal, your professional aspiration?”

Lin Xuewen: “I won’t say more. The path is yours to walk. But you need to think about these things. There’s a saying: hard work in tactics can’t make up for laziness in strategy. Your diligence and professionalism are commendable, but if your direction is wrong, no amount of effort or talent can make up for it.”

Guan Lan ended up losing sleep that night.

Lin Xuewen’s words kept replaying in his mind, but the more he thought about it, the more confused he became.

He had always adhered to the simple worldview of the working class: where there’s a will, there’s a way. As long as he worked hard enough, he would succeed. His life experiences had only reinforced this belief. But now, his mentor was telling him that choice was more important than effort. If your direction was wrong, it was like a drowning person—the more you struggled, the faster you sank.

By the time dawn broke, Guan Lan looked at the pale light in the eastern sky and thought to himself, screw it. Even if I lose my job tomorrow, I can survive on my royalties. And if the royalties run out, I’ll swallow my pride and let the fans across the country support me. Can they really let me starve?