Chapter Thirty-Six: The Tycoon

In the afternoon, after returning to the company, Liao Yuan was summoned to the office by Lai Yibai, who had just come back from a business trip.

“These past two days, I was sent by the higher-ups to the capital for a study on party and government policies. My phone was off almost twenty-four hours a day, and only this morning, after arriving back in Donghai, did I learn about all the things that happened at home.”

Lai Yibai personally brewed two cups of coffee, placed them on the meeting table, and sighed. “What happened last night—Sanmu has already told me. I truly didn’t expect it. This sort of ‘palace coup’ drama, which usually only appears in television series, actually happened right in my circle. It feels both absurd and laughable.”

Liao Yuan listened quietly.

“If I were you, under such circumstances, I’d definitely choose to resign and leave.” Lai Yibai stirred her coffee and looked at Liao Yuan, probing, “Have you thought about leaving?”

If it were anyone else, Lai Yibai certainly wouldn’t ask so directly. After all, resigning without good cause becomes a permanent stain on one’s résumé; any new company would investigate the reason in detail, and through layer upon layer of scrutiny, every shortcoming would be magnified, potentially leading to consequences far beyond expectations.

But Liao Yuan was not just anyone.

At some of the station’s gatherings, it was occasionally rumored that Director Xi of Program One had a secret lover, and the topic was often shared as gossip among the women. Some colleagues would use it to mock Xi Yun, but ever since his first encounter with Liao Yuan, Lai Yibai realized how dangerous such rumors could be.

In Lai Yibai’s eyes, whether it was his working style, personal conduct, professional attitude, or erudition, among all the talk show hosts at the station, if Liao Yuan claimed second place, no one could claim first.

Such reliable talent had been buried in Program Two for a year and six months…

Whenever she thought of this, Lai Yibai felt incredulous, but also deeply regretful.

A thoroughbred like this—perhaps only someone like me, a discerning judge of talent, could discover him.

At this moment, faced with Lai’s inquiry, Liao Yuan pondered for a while, then replied honestly, “I have considered it, but not right now.”

Lai Yibai sighed at his answer. “I knew it would be so. I just hope that day comes as late as possible.”

With that, she set her coffee aside, stood up, and took a document from her desk drawer, handing it to Liao Yuan. “This is the station’s draft contract. Program Two wants the broadcast rights for ‘Ghost Blows Out the Lamp.’ We’ll follow your second proposal from yesterday: the annual broadcast fee is 1.5 million, but it won’t be paid all at once—instead, it will be settled in installments every four months, distributed alongside your salary at the beginning of each month. Take a look. If you have no objections, sign here.”

Liao Yuan took the contract and carefully reviewed its clauses.

Donghai Broadcasting Station had signed rights for various novels and dramas more than once; this was the standard contract template, with no major issues.

At the end were the signatures of department heads and the word “approved.” After reading, Liao Yuan closed his eyes, processed the contract’s details, found nothing particularly inequitable, and without further hesitation, signed his name and pressed his fingerprint in ink.

With that, a new contract was born.

Lai Yibai was unaware that Liao Yuan had already signed a contract worth 1.43 million that morning. Seeing him sign, she smiled and congratulated him, “After taxes, you’ll have about 1.2 million. So, Liao, how does it feel to be a millionaire?”

Liao Yuan looked bewildered—a millionaire?

Had the term “millionaire” become so cheap these days?

He coughed, forcing a smile. “It’s… all right.”

Lai Yibai scrutinized him. “The station received calls from several media outlets these last few days, all requesting interviews with you. Will you accept?”

“No, I’m a bit busy lately.”

Liao Yuan politely declined, then stood. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll get back to work.”

“There’s one more thing,” Lai Yibai quickly added. “Didn’t you want to publish ‘Ghost Blows Out the Lamp’? While in the capital, I asked some friends at the publishing house. They have colleagues who listened to your show online and are greatly interested in acquiring the rights. A delegation will be coming to Donghai soon to negotiate with a famous author. I’ve scheduled a meeting for you. When the time comes, I’ll take you there.”

“All right. Thank you, Director Lai,” Liao Yuan nodded.

Lai Yibai smiled. “No need to be so formal—we’re all family here.”

Liao Yuan returned to the office area, preparing to call Xiao Peng to record “Ghost Blows Out the Lamp.” Instead, he found Xiao Peng bent over a female colleague’s desk, holding a small protective talisman and earnestly declaring, “I got this talisman from the Great Thunder Temple under Leifeng Pagoda. I specifically asked the abbot to bless it. He said it would glow when you meet someone you’re truly drawn to. Xiao Ru, look—isn’t it glowing now?”

The female colleague, Xiao Ru, looked at him with deep disdain. “There’s no Great Thunder Temple under Leifeng Pagoda. Across the street, there’s only Jingci Zen Temple! Oh, I get it—you little rascal, if you want to woo me, just say so! What’s the point of beating around the bush, pretending to be a hero?”

Xiao Peng looked bewildered. “Really? Maybe it’s the Great Thunder Temple by West Lake—I must have mixed it up?”

“Have you ever been to West Lake?”

Xiao Ru’s gaze brimmed with contempt. “By West Lake, it seems there’s only Lingyin Temple, isn’t there? Go on, get lost! Stop thinking about chasing girls all day. If you ever write a ‘Ghost Blows Out the Lamp’ like Teacher Liao, I’ll chase after you myself!”

Xiao Peng was deeply wounded, his face vacant, his life suddenly overshadowed. This was his fourth attempt to flirt with a girl in the online department—and his fourth defeat.

There’s a saying: after half a year of widowhood, even a mongrel outshines Pan An. Why doesn’t it work for me? Are all these girls secret lilies?

Xiao Peng was baffled. Just as he was about to display his prized possession, he saw the previously dismissive Xiao Ru’s eyes suddenly turn incredibly gentle…

So gentle that Xiao Peng was creeped out.

Then he noticed that all the employees in the office seemed to have blossomed overnight, each more radiant and lively than the last.

“Oh, Teacher Liao is here!”

“Teacher Liao looks even more handsome today!”

“Are you thirsty, Teacher Liao? Would you like something to drink? I’ll make it for you!”

“Oh, I almost forgot—I just learned a new massage technique from TV, great for lumbar and cervical pain. If you’re ever tired, just let me know!”

The once serene office was suddenly abuzz with laughter and chatter, lively as could be.

Xiao Peng turned around to see Brother Liao flashing his big white smile, looking shy. “Xiao Peng, let’s get to work.”

Work, huh? He felt an urge to jump up and smack him in the knee!