The First Female Artist

After entering the Second Ring Road, Bai Xin hurriedly rushed out of the car. She had to rush to play the role of a resistance fighter—one of those characters who throws a grenade and sacrifices themselves immediately.

Her role was just a brief appearance.

The pay was only 300 yuan a day—definitely a minor role.

Before leaving, she even called out, "Goodbye, Uncle!"

Time had really flown. He, once the little tyrant of his middle school, had now become an "uncle" in someone else's eyes.

In the entertainment industry, the only two people Chen Pingsheng really knew were Zhao Liying and Director Yang Jiancheng.

It wasn't as simple as just having money to invest in projects.

Good projects were scarce resources. Someone like him, with no connections in the industry, could only be considered a complete newbie.

Besides, with just over a hundred million in his pocket, he was nothing in this field.

Any slightly famous celebrity had financial goals far beyond that.

First things first—he needed to find an office.

Renting an entire building was out of the question, and it wasn't necessary anyway.

After some searching, he settled for a spot in the most densely packed high-rise business district in Beijing—

The CBD.

This was the heart of Beijing's commercial center, where the elites gathered.

Chen Pingsheng spent a hefty sum to rent a small 500-square-meter office in the China World Trade Center, officially establishing Tengying Entertainment.

The reason for choosing this location was simple—convenience.

Right next door stood the "Big Pants" building—

The CCTV Headquarters.

And just across the street was Beijing's tallest skyscraper—China Zun, also known as the CITIC Group Headquarters, towering at 528 meters.

Standing in a place like this really made him feel insignificant.

Though his office was set up in a prime location, the company's current workforce consisted of... just him. From the boss to the janitor—he was it.

Tengying Entertainment, as the name suggested, was focused on entertainment industry investments.

With nothing better to do, Chen Pingsheng sat by the floor-to-ceiling window and took the initiative to call Yang Jiancheng, letting him know that he had arrived in the Second Ring Road.

If convenient, he could come over for a visit.

He also dialed Zhao Liying, whom he hadn't contacted in a while, to discuss Tengying Entertainment's future investment plans when they arrived.

Zhao Liying showed up quickly—she had just bought herself a small Mercedes-Benz.

As long as an actor could land lead roles in the entertainment industry, the income was considerable.

One successful drama could easily cover the cost of a car and a house.

Fame had refined her. The youthful innocence from before was completely gone—she was now a rising star in the industry.

"Chen-ge."

"Liying, look at this. Thanks to you, your Chen-ge has now started an entertainment company."

Zhao Liying's smile was still as sweet as ever. No wonder she had such good audience appeal—she truly had a warm and endearing presence.

"That's great news!"

She casually took a seat across from him as Chen Pingsheng poured her a cup of tea.

"Liying, your drama Legend of Lu Zhen should be wrapping up soon, right?"

"Yeah, Director Yang is very efficient. It'll be completely finished in about a month."

Zhao Liying then asked, "Chen-ge, are you planning to sign and train artists under your company, or are you just focusing on investments?"

"What's the difference?"

"There's a huge difference."

She explained, "If you're just investing, then once the TV drama airs, it has nothing to do with you anymore. But if you sign artists, and the drama becomes a hit, your company can take a major cut from their commercial performances, endorsements, and future projects. Even when they sign on for new dramas, your company can claim at least half of their earnings. That's how you ensure a continuous revenue stream."

Training artists was indeed more profitable, but the problem was—he had no clue how to do it.

Chen Pingsheng sighed, "You know me, Liying. I used to sell stuff on the streets and help people move houses in my spare time. I barely understand the entertainment industry, let alone how to manage artists."

"Chen-ge, I, Zhao Liying, would like to be your company's first signed artist. I hope you won't turn me down."

She stood up and spoke with sincerity.

Without Chen Pingsheng, she might still be running around doing small background roles.

She believed in gratitude. Over the past six months, many big companies had tried to sign her, but she refused them all for this very reason.

Chen Pingsheng waved his hand. "Come on, don't mess around. I barely know anything about this industry. If you sign with me, I might end up holding you back."

"Chen-ge, stop being modest. Right now, you may not know much, but give it some time, and I guarantee you'll do better than anyone else."

"You believe in me that much?"

"Of course."

Zhao Liying chuckled, "Didn't you build Tengsheng Dried Fruits into a massive success in less than a year?"

"The entertainment industry is the same—it's all about finding good scripts and good directors, and then selecting actors who genuinely want to perform. It can't be harder than selling dried fruits, right?"

"Hearing you say that... I feel a lot more confident."

Chen Pingsheng laughed, "We're not outsiders. Since you trust me, I definitely won't let you down. Here's the deal—

Any script you like, I'll invest in.

Any drama you star in, the company will only take a 10% cut.

Any co-star you want to work with, we'll make it happen."

These three guarantees ensured that Zhao Liying would have absolute independence at Tengying Entertainment.

No other company in the industry would ever offer such terms.

He was giving her full control—if he wasn't an expert, he might as well let professionals handle it.

Zhao Liying was completely stunned.

She had just joined, and he was already offering her such privileges.

The first guarantee meant she had the freedom to choose her own scripts.

More importantly, as long as she liked it, Tengying would fund it.

That was unheard of in the industry.

The second guarantee secured her absolute financial benefit.

No matter how big a star was, no agency ever took just a 10% cut.

And the third guarantee was even more crucial—

Actors often struggled with finding good scripts, only to end up forced to work alongside talentless, overhyped influencers pushed in by investors.

Even the best actors could have their careers ruined by such pairings.

With these three guarantees, she would be truly one of a kind in the industry.

"Chen-ge, let's sign the contract right now! You're not allowed to go back on your word."

"No rush—I have a little gift for you first."

Chen Pingsheng asked, "Where do you live now?"

"I bought myself a small apartment here."

"Well, your sister-in-law has recently gotten into real estate investment. How about this—I'll have her buy you a luxury penthouse in Shijingshan as your signing bonus. We'll even be neighbors in the future."

He called Song Yanxi—taking inspiration from Liu Bei.

After all, he barely understood the entertainment industry.

Even with his golden finger, if he didn't have a female Zhuge Liang to guide him,

Tengying would never truly take off.

A high-end penthouse in Wujing Mountain cost at most six or seven million yuan.

Compared to what a future superstar could bring in,

It was a drop in the ocean.

His first signed actress couldn't still be living in a tiny apartment.

You had to invest big to reap big rewards.

Zhao Liying was completely dumbfounded.

Since when had she become so valuable?

She wasn't even a third-tier actress yet!

"If you keep being this generous, Chen-ge, I might just live off you forever."