Chapter 2259: Calling to Account

Zhao Fusheng had heard a saying long ago: truly profitable businesses don't go public.

The reasoning was simple—money is most satisfying when you keep it all for yourself; giving it away never sits well with anyone.

For Zhao Fusheng, the same held true.

That was why he never considered taking Future Investment public.

Because if he did, his money would have to be shared with others.

From this perspective, one could imagine the status of Future Film in Zhao Fusheng's mind.

To be precise, in Zhao Fusheng's view, Future Film existed as a tool for him to rake in cash, not as a venture that could truly generate massive profits.

After all, while the entertainment industry's pie was sizable, the waters ran deep and the complexities exceeded his imagination—Zhao Fusheng had no confidence he could swallow it all in one gulp.

Since he didn't even care much about Future Film, he naturally paid even less attention to its subsidiaries.

There was no helping it—it was a matter of vision.

But that didn't mean others felt the same.

Chairman Zhao?

A car pulled up in front of Zhao Fusheng, and the window rolled down to reveal Guo Pangzi's round face, full of surprise.

Oh, Teacher Guo?

Zhao Fusheng was also taken aback.

What brings you here?

Guo Pangzi didn't dare stay in the car while Zhao Fusheng stood, so he quickly got out.

Old Ma and the others didn't recognize him, but since he knew Zhao Fusheng, they didn't stop him, though they kept a wary eye on their surroundings.

Just taking a stroll.

Zhao Fusheng smiled and looked at Guo Pangzi. "Do you have a performance today?"

No, Brother Qian has something on today, so I'm just here to look around.

Guo Pangzi explained to Zhao Fusheng, "If you'd like to watch a show, I can go in with you. How about it?"

With so many people, is it convenient?

Zhao Fusheng was taken aback, then asked with a smile.

He pointed at Old Ma and the others around him.

Guo Pangzi was puzzled. "All of them?"

Zhao Fusheng nodded and gave a helpless smile. "Can't help it—they're afraid something might happen and insist on following me."

Guo Pangzi was sharp and instantly realized who these people were, especially Old Ma and the others, all in standard black suits with bulging waists—clearly bodyguards.

Given your status, Chairman, it's only right that the people around you are cautious.

Guo Pangzi, ever the tactful one, immediately shifted gears to agree with Zhao Fusheng. "How about this: let these gentlemen come in with us, and I'll find a spot—a private box, so to speak—where you can sit and listen for a while."

Fine, sorry for the trouble.

Zhao Fusheng was in a good mood and nodded in agreement.

The two walked inside together, followed by Zhao Fusheng's bodyguards.

As for Guo Pangzi's assistant, he had already sent him ahead to have the apprentices line up.

It was a rule: whenever Guo Pangzi and Yu Qian came, the apprentices in the backstage had to wait for the elders to give instructions.

Master.

Master.

Senior Brother.

Master.

Entering the backstage, a group of people greeted Guo Pangzi. A few who had seen Zhao Fusheng before were slightly surprised—they remembered that the last time he came, he was accompanied by a bevy of beauties, led by Yu Feihong, President Yu, who had a good relationship with Yu Qian.

Why was he here again?

These are all my apprentices, and that's my junior brother.

Guo Pangzi casually introduced a few people to Zhao Fusheng and said with a smile, "A bunch of useless kids. If they don't perform well anywhere, please don't mind."

Zhao Fusheng waved his hand, smiled, and pointed at a round-faced fat man. "I remember him. His routine last time was quite amusing."

Right, right, right. He's my apprentice Xiao Yue. He was there last time.

Guo Pangzi laughed.

As he spoke, he beckoned to the young fat man. "Come here."

The fat man named Xiao Yue looked bewildered but obediently walked over and bowed to Guo Pangzi. "Master."

Mm, this is Chairman Zhao. He's going to listen to our cross-talk today. Do a good job, understand?

Guo Pangzi instructed his apprentice.

Okay, don't worry.

Xiao Yue grinned naively, his face full of smiles.

His appearance—

Zhao Fusheng looked at the guy, matching him with some memories from his past life, then laughed. "I think he could try comedy acting later. He just looks funny."

Huh?

Xiao Yue was already stunned.

The others were dumbfounded too. What was going on?

How had the conversation suddenly turned to acting?

Who was this person?

This is really—Xiao Yue, why don't you thank Chairman Zhao?

Guo Pangzi quickly glared at his apprentice and kicked him in the thigh.

Thank you, thank you.

The small-eyed fat man hurriedly bowed to Zhao Fusheng, his naive look making Zhao Fusheng chuckle.

It had been a long time since he'd met someone so amusing.

Chairman, don't misunderstand. This kid is my live-in apprentice—the kind where I cover all his meals and expenses," Guo Pangzi quickly explained. "He didn't grow up in my house, but he started learning cross-talk at my place."

It's fine, I understand.

Zhao Fusheng wasn't interested in such matters at all; he just thought the little fat guy was fun.

Chairman, this way, please.

Seeing that Zhao Fusheng had no interest in lingering, Guo Pangzi led him and his group toward a private box.

Soon, they arrived at a private room on the second floor.

This is where our family often comes. What do you think?

Guo Pangzi said to Zhao Fusheng.

Not bad. Let's stay here.

Zhao Fusheng nodded.

Then please have a seat. I'll arrange for some fruit and snacks to be sent up.

Guo Pangzi said respectfully. He never thought of staying—the gap in status between himself and Zhao Fusheng was too vast. How could a super-rich man like him chat and laugh with someone like him?

To be honest, his intention was simple: to leave a good impression on Zhao Fusheng, at least to build a favorable connection.

Chairman, this man—

Old Ma stood beside Zhao Fusheng and lowered his voice. "Is he—"

No need to be so tense.

Zhao Fusheng waved his hand. "Sit down. It's fine to listen to some cross-talk to pass the time. It's quite entertaining."

Since he said so, Old Ma and the others naturally had nothing more to say, but they still left someone at the door while the rest stayed in the room guarding Zhao Fusheng.

The performers on stage today were Old Guo's disciples. Their generation names in the Deyun Society followed the characters Yun, He, Jiu, Xiao—there was a lot of lore behind it, which Zhao Fusheng didn't fully understand.

He only knew this much from hearing the ladies mention it when he came with Yu Feihong and the others before.

But honestly, these cross-talk routines were quite amusing; listening to them could actually make you laugh.

Even though many were vulgar, with a scatological feel, it was just entertainment. As long as it wasn't broadcast on TV, even if some routines were a bit dirty, they were still listenable.

At least Old Ma and the others were thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Zhao Fusheng chuckled to himself. He recalled the later development of Deyun Society, which seemed to have more and more contact with the entertainment circle. It looked like Guo Pangzi was quite business-savvy.

At the very least, even at this time, he could realize that the entertainment industry was the future direction for Deyun Society.

That was quite farsighted.

At least at this moment, Guo Pangzi's peers hadn't realized this yet. They still focused on small theaters, trying to expand their fame, maybe get on the Spring Festival Gala, and then attract audiences to their small venues.

But Guo Pangzi was already considering having his disciples break into the entertainment industry, using cross-talk as a stepping stone.

In Zhao Fusheng's memory, the fan management of Deyun Society in his past life was almost like the playbook of idol fandom.

This management style wasn't necessarily good or bad, but one thing was certain: the risks were enormous.

After all, it was a double-edged sword.

While the fan economy could make an artist popular, conversely, when fans made mistakes, the idol paid the price—this was all too common in the entertainment industry.

So, in Zhao Fusheng's view, Guo Pangzi's operational approach was really very risky.

But he had no interest in meddling in such matters.

Although Future Film now held some shares in Deyun Society, for Zhao Fusheng, that was Ye Jing's problem to worry about, not his as the boss.

…

…

Time sometimes flew by incredibly fast; before you knew it, hours had passed.

Other times, it crawled, and what felt like three or four hours was actually only ten or twenty minutes.

Zhao Fusheng listened to cross-talk mainly to kill time; otherwise, going home alone was just too boring.

And indeed, it was a good way to pass the time.

Chairman, this is quite interesting.

Old Ma watched for a while, then stood up and said to Zhao Fusheng.

Zhao Fusheng chuckled. "Perfect for killing time."

Indeed.

Old Ma nodded, said nothing more, and walked outside to relieve his brother so he could come in and listen too.

Zhao Fusheng naturally had no objection. He was always generous with the people around him. In his view, these men were responsible for protecting him, staying by his side, and in critical moments, they would risk their lives to shield him from bullets.

Under such circumstances, if he didn't treat them well, was he supposed to put on a sour face?

Only an idiot would do that.

A truly smart boss would use the best conditions to win over the people around him, so they would be utterly devoted to him.

This principle had held true throughout history.

Of course, it couldn't just be about giving favors; there also had to be a balance of authority and kindness.

The分寸 in that was something the person involved had to grasp themselves.

Although Zhao Fusheng wasn't fond of reading The Thick Black Theory, he knew very well that when doing business—especially to a certain level—being thick-skinned and black-hearted was inevitable.

Soon, the performance ended, and the performers began thanking the audience.

Chairman, shall we?

Old Ma came in and asked Zhao Fusheng.

Zhao Fusheng smiled. "Send someone backstage to say goodbye, and we'll leave."

…

…

By the time he got home, it was already midnight.

After washing up, Zhao Fusheng went to bed.

Early the next morning, Liu Yiming arrived at Zhao Fusheng's house.

You're here.

Zhao Fusheng ate the breakfast Liu Yiming had bought and asked with a smile, "How's your father?"

He's doing well.

Liu Yiming quickly replied. "He still thinks of you and said he'd come to see you when he has time."

No, no.

Zhao Fusheng quickly waved his hand. "Tell him to focus on recovering. If he needs anything, just let me know."

Mm-hmm, I understand.

Liu Yiming nodded, then smiled at Zhao Fusheng. "You went to listen to cross-talk again yesterday?"

Yeah, it was quite fun.

Zhao Fusheng smiled. "But it's too much trouble. With all of us, it draws too much attention."

Hearing this, Liu Yiming stuck out his tongue but didn't dare say anything.

He knew his boss's thoughts all too well. Zhao Fusheng always wished he could be freer and not make a big fuss when going out. But the problem was, his security was too important—with a net worth of tens of billions of dollars, who would dare relax his security?

If something went wrong, who could bear the responsibility?

No one!

Liu Yiming didn't need to guess to know the answer.

Because he had already reasoned it out long ago.

Throughout the entire Future Group, aside from Zhao Fusheng, who could keep these proud and unruly subordinates in check, the other leaders—though they appeared polite on the surface—were actually all unconvinced by each other.

For example, Dong Chenxi was now the helm of Future Investment, controlling so much capital. If Zhao Fusheng were gone, would she listen to anyone else?

Let's go to the company.

Zhao Fusheng smiled and patted Liu Yiming on the shoulder.

Liu Yiming grinned but obediently stood up and followed Zhao Fusheng out of the house.

Arriving at the company, Zhao Fusheng had just sat down when his phone rang.

Oh, isn't this President Zheng, who went on a blind date? What made you think to call me?

Zhao Fusheng said with a smile.

Then he teased, "So, President Zheng, how did the blind date go?"

Cut it out.

Zheng Yao said irritably, "Don't think I don't know you've been asking about me behind my back!"

Zhao Fusheng was suddenly a bit embarrassed. After all, even though he was the boss and a friend, asking about someone's blind date behind their back wasn't exactly a proud thing.

That Dong Chenxi—her lips were so loose; she'd ratted him out after all.

But with a flash of inspiration, Zhao Fusheng quickly found a topic to turn the tables. He snorted and said to Zheng Yao, "I haven't settled accounts with you yet. Tell me, even if we're not boss and subordinate, we've been friends for so many years. How is it that the whole world knows about your blind date, and I'm the last to find out! Even Zhang Qian knew, and I didn't! Come on, come on, explain yourself—what's the meaning of this?"