Chapter Thirty-Two: Let's Sell Zhou Miao

“Miss Zuo, I’m sorry, but your company failed to pass this round of investment review. Although you’ve signed a promising newcomer like Zhou Miao, Rainbow’s ability to create stars is questionable. It’s been years since you’ve launched any outstanding artists, and we don’t see much potential for your future development.”

The investor’s cold voice echoed relentlessly in Zuo Qiu’s ears, crashing over her mind and heart like unending waves.

Bang! A beer bottle shattered against the wall, frothy liquid spraying everywhere. Zuo Qiu screamed hoarsely, “Bastard!”

That furious cry seemed to drain every ounce of strength from her. She staggered and collapsed onto the floor, her left hand accidentally pressing against shards of glass. Blood welled up, but she felt nothing.

She slumped against the sofa, crying in a way that was anything but dignified. The pressure was crushing her. The company hadn’t made any money in ages, yet expenses piled up every day. Their funds had dried up long ago, and now everything hinged on the mortgage of their headquarters.

Without new capital, Rainbow wouldn’t last much longer—maybe a year, maybe half.

She’d spent this whole period searching for ways to attract investment: signing Zhou Miao, launching new talent, venturing into variety shows, establishing a film and television division for diversified growth. It all looked promising on the surface, but the fundamental problem remained unsolved; everything was just a facade of prosperity.

Rainbow simply had no ability to regenerate itself. The production department was woefully understaffed, and any artist with a hint of potential would immediately be poached by other companies.

She’d barely managed to lure Zhou Miao, who was still a high school student busy preparing for the college entrance exam. It felt like an inescapable knot, devoid of hope or any way out.

In the dark room, her phone rang. Zuo Qiu glanced at the screen—Hu Xiaoqian, head of Wave Entertainment, her father’s former best friend, and the very man responsible for her father’s demise.

She answered, eyes cold, saying nothing. On the other end, Hu laughed, “Qiu, I heard your talks with the investors fell through. Things must be tough. How about transferring Zhou Miao’s contract to me? I can offer twenty million. That’ll keep Rainbow afloat for a long while.”

Twenty million for a newcomer—expensive? Incredibly so.

But given Zhou Miao’s current popularity and potential, earning ten times that amount for Rainbow would be effortless.

If anyone else had made the offer, Zuo Qiu might have considered it—but Hu Xiaoqian?

Her lips curled as she spat out, “Eat shit!”

She hung up, grabbed another bottle, and drank furiously, the liquor running down her pale neck and soaking her clothes…

“Candy, don’t move, we’re almost done. Be good.” Meanwhile, Zhou Miao was bathing Candy. For any pet owner, nothing is more painful than bathing a cat.

It was as if he was fighting for her life—Candy struggled furiously. Some cats behaved well during baths, but Candy definitely wasn’t one of them. Zhou Miao’s arms were already scratched with several marks.

Drenched in sweat, he finally finished. As he dried Candy’s fur, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked—it was Zuo Qiu calling.

He answered, but before he could speak, Zuo Qiu slurred, “Xiaoyan, come pick me up. I’m in the office, ugh…”

Mid-sentence, she retched audibly through the phone—clearly drunk. No matter how Zhou Miao called out to her, she didn’t respond, probably having fallen asleep.

He thought for a moment and called Yang Yan. The phone rang for ages with no answer. Left with no choice, Zhou Miao changed clothes and headed to the company.

Half an hour later, Zhou Miao opened Zuo Qiu’s office door. The stench of alcohol was overwhelming; shattered bottles littered the floor, liquor pooled everywhere. Zuo Qiu lay on the ground, hair disheveled, face streaked with tears, a puddle of vomit nearby, her palm pierced by glass shards, the blood already dried.

Zhou Miao sighed helplessly—what was up with this woman? He quickly lifted her onto the sofa, then hurried downstairs to the pharmacy across the street for iodine and bandages, cleaning her wounds.

Thankfully, there was a small bed in the office’s break room. Zhou Miao stripped off her soiled outerwear and put her to bed. Just as he was about to leave, Zuo Qiu grabbed him.

“Xiaoyan…”

“Qiu, it’s Zhou Miao.”

“What should I do, Xiaoyan…? The investment talks failed again.” Her lips quivered as she began to cry once more.

Zhou Miao, at a loss, gently patted her head—drunk people were such trouble.

“Maybe we should just sell Zhou Miao—twenty million…”

Smack! Zhou Miao flicked her forehead, making Zuo Qiu wince and groan in protest, “Ouch, what was that for?”

“We can’t launch any popular artists, and the company spends money every day… I really can’t take it anymore.”

Zuo Qiu clung to Zhou Miao, sobbing like a child overwhelmed by grievances.

He understood her stress. After all, she wasn’t even thirty yet, and the whole company rested on her shoulders—it was exhausting.

Eventually, exhausted from crying, Zuo Qiu drifted off. Zhou Miao covered her with a blanket and tiptoed out.

Not long after he left, Yang Yan called. She’d been at the movies with her boyfriend and had her phone on silent. Zhou Miao explained what happened, asking her to come in the morning with a change of clothes and breakfast.

The next day, Zuo Qiu woke parched, her throat burning. As she pulled back the blanket, she was startled—her outer clothes were gone. She looked around: the break room, nothing amiss. Relief washed over her.

She stepped out into the office, greeted by utter chaos—a headache on top of everything else. She’d drunk far too much last night and remembered nothing.

Yang Yan entered. Zuo Qiu took the clothes, asking, “Did I lose control last night?”

“Ah? I don’t know. Zhou Miao called me and told me to come this morning,” Yang Yan replied innocently.

As Yang Yan pulled on her shirt, she paused and quickly checked her phone. Sure enough, her last call last night had gone to Zhou Miao.

Oh god, did I do anything weird last night? He’s not even an adult! Zuo Qiu held her head in despair. Just then, she noticed a stinging sensation in her hand and saw a bandage.

Looking at the bloodstains and glass shards on the floor, warmth stirred in her heart. No matter what, she’d really troubled him last night.

Meanwhile, Zhou Miao flipped open a thick notebook. Every page was covered in musical notes and lyrics. He stroked his chin, sorting through them, and finally selected a few sheets from the folder.