Chapter 13: Grounded

Watching Zhou Li’s departing figure, Xu Wei let out a long breath and leaned back against her chair.

She knew the decision she’d made was extremely risky, because if Zhou Li were the one singing this piece, Lin Entertainment’s maintenance fee for the year would be secured without a doubt.

But if she handed it to Xia Jin Nian instead, the uncertainties multiplied—and on top of that, she had just driven away their only second-tier celebrity.

In other words, she was gambling.
If she couldn’t make Xia Jin Nian a success, Lin Entertainment would collapse completely.

But after witnessing Zhou Li’s arrogance firsthand, Xu Wei finally understood something—she could no longer maintain the status quo.

A second-tier celebrity should indeed be treated with care by any B-level company.
But someone who dared to order the company around like this… that was an exception.

What was the point of barely clinging to their B-level status while living under someone else’s heel?

Even if she managed to retain it for now—could she keep it forever?
And besides, when she and her husband founded Lin Entertainment, their vision wasn’t limited to simply remaining B-level, was it?

If her husband were still alive, faced with this situation, he’d probably make the same choice she just did.

Either rise again one day, or fade away gradually.
Clinging to life without dignity was the least meaningful path of all.

She had always understood this, but she’d lacked the courage and confidence to make such a decision.

Today, her daughter had given her courage—and Xia Jin Nian had given her confidence.
Even if, from a purely rational standpoint, her choice did seem a little impulsive.

“Maybe a bit of youthful impulsiveness isn’t such a bad thing after all.”

Xu Wei murmured softly.

Beside her, Lin Xiyue had seen the entire scene play out and heard the full conversation between her mother and Miss Zhou.

As she marveled at how that awful woman dared behave so arrogantly, she also noticed something else: that so-called “ten-million-yuan maintenance fee.”
What on earth was that?

When she questioned her mother, Xu Wei realized she could no longer hide it and let out a sigh before explaining everything in detail.

“For a normally operating B-level company, ten million isn’t a heavy burden at all.
Back when your father was still here, that amount wasn’t even worth mentioning.
But for Lin Entertainment right now… it’s become a crushing weight.”

Since she had already started explaining, Xu Wei continued and laid out the company’s current state in full.

Only then did Lin Xiyue realize just how heavy the pressure on her mother truly was—and how bleak Lin Entertainment’s situation had become.

Their only second-tier celebrity was a diva who threw tantrums at will.
The few third-tier artists left were counting down the days until their contracts expired so they could jump ship.
The rest were a crowd of little nobodies who didn’t even qualify as third-tier.

As for producers, her mother was the only B-level producer left.
In fact, due to years of overwhelming pressure and rushing production schedules, most of her recent works had fallen to D-level.
Even C-level was rare—B-level was out of the question.

And the ten-million-yuan maintenance fee due at year’s end… after half a year they had only managed to scrape together half of it.

“Mom… thank you.”

For a moment, that was all Lin Xiyue could manage to say.

Thank you for still believing in her and Xia Jin Nian at a time like this.
Thank you for shouldering such a heavy burden for her sake.

“Pfft—come on, don’t give yourself and Jin Nian too much pressure.”

Xu Wei smiled faintly.

“At worst, we’ll just drop back down to C-level.”

Business performance was all relative.
Even a skinny camel was still bigger than a horse.
By C-level standards, Lin Entertainment still looked like it was doing pretty well.

The mother and daughter stayed in the office until six in the evening.
Employees left one after another, yet there was still no sign of Xia Jin Nian.

Xiyue had called multiple times and sent several Penguin messages, but there was no response at all.
A bad feeling began to creep into her chest.

“The company keys are here.
The contract documents are prepared.
We’re only missing the signature and the stamp.”

Xu Wei stretched lazily.

“Consider this a small entry test for Producer Lin.
Your best friend’s signing can be handled by you.”

She tossed the keys to Lin Xiyue and then left the office.
She wanted to see how her daughter would handle this mess.

Holding the keys, Xiyue felt completely lost.
With no better option, she sat at the computer to kill time.

She typed “Zhou Li” into StarNet, and the official profile appeared instantly.

As expected of the official site—every one of Zhou Li’s works, awards, and activities from debut to present was recorded clearly.

Her rating was displayed as a large “Second-Tier,” though the characters were dimmed, meaning… something she couldn’t yet interpret.

Her follower count listed over three million.
That meant over three million real fans.

Her mother had told her before: everyone on StarNet used real-name verification, one person, one account.
Which meant that these three million followers were extremely valuable—far more real than the inflated numbers of later internet eras, where followers easily shot into tens of millions or even billions.

Browsing like this, time quickly slipped into the evening.
At eight o’clock, Lin Xiyue’s phone finally rang.

“Sorry, Xixi.
I just got home.
My mom wouldn’t even listen to my explanation—she grounded me and confiscated my phone.
I only managed to sneak out my backup phone to message you.”

Reading the message, Xiyue finally understood—her best friend was grounded.
This was a problem.

“The signing… might have to be delayed.
I’m really sorry—”

Even through the screen, Xiyue could picture Xia Jin Nian’s guilty expression.
That girl was always like this—whenever something went wrong, she blamed herself first and piled pressure onto her own shoulders.

“It’s fine.
This isn’t something that must be done tonight.
If necessary, I’ll go to your place tomorrow and explain everything to Auntie myself.”

“Then I probably can’t go out tonight either…
The meteor shower we planned to watch together with Ran Zhu at the school’s rear hill… I’ll have to bail on that too.”

Her words made Xiyue pause.
She searched her memory and recalled that she had indeed made such a plan with Jin Nian and another good friend named Ran Zhu.

Given the situation… the plan really could only fall through.

“Ding-dong.”

Another message popped up.
This time, it was from a contact with a tomboy avatar, saved as “Brother Zhu.”

“As a reward for finishing the college entrance exams, my old man bought me a Ghost Fire*.
I’m coming to pick you and Jin Nian up right now.
Come see your Brother Zhu’s new ride—”

*Ghost Fire (鬼火): A slang term for a flashy, often modified scooter popular among teens.

“…Huh?”