They surrounded me right after the breakup.

"Xiao Xiao is different." Lin Yaoyao's tone changed.

"Xiao Xiao's family has connections; her father's words carry weight in Jingzhou. Besides, Xiao Xiao may seem carefree, but she's more shrewd than anyone else."

"Her kissing Jiang Han on stage wasn't impulsive; she had thought it through before she did it."

"Aren't you angry?" Xia Yutong asked tentatively.

"What's the use of getting angry? Will she stop kissing me if I get angry?"

Lin Yaoyao looked at Xia Yutong: "First of all, I will treat anyone Jiang Han likes as a sister."

"I can tell whether someone is genuinely good to him or has ulterior motives."

"Secondly, Siyao and I are on the same side, and that will never change. No matter how many people come, we will always stand together."

Xia Yutong nodded, seemingly lost in thought.

She picked up her chopsticks, then put them down again, changing the subject: "Yaoyao, how much do you think the Nezha movie will do at the box office?"

Lin Yaoyao was picking bones out of the fish head without looking up: "From the clips I saw today, the production quality is absolutely top-notch in China."

"The special effects, visuals, voice acting, and pacing are all up to blockbuster standards. In all my years of voice acting, I've never seen another domestic animation that can achieve this level."

"So the investment is guaranteed to pay off?"

"Definitely." Lin Yaoyao placed the selected fish meat on a plate.

"It's hard to say how much money you'll make. The market ceiling for animated films is there. No matter how good a film is, it's useless if the audience doesn't go to the theater."

Xia Yutong then asked, "Do you think it can exceed 10 billion?"

"1 billion? If it can reach 1 billion, it will be a huge success. There are only a handful of domestic animated films that have achieved box office records, and those that have exceeded 1 billion are extremely rare."

"What about the 20 billion?"

Lin Yaoyao smiled and shook her head: "Yutong, do you have no concept of the film market?"

Xia Yutong didn't respond. Jiang Han said that Nezha's box office could exceed 40 billion, which was a bet between the two of them.

As long as she exceeds the limit, she can justifiably use herself as a gamble.

"Why are you suddenly asking this?" Lin Yaoyao looked at her curiously.

"Nothing, just curious."

……

Star Moon Media, Recording Studio.

Linghua stood in front of the microphone, wearing headphones, with her eyes closed.

The timer above the mixing console is ticking; it's been recording for almost an hour.

Fang Chongwen sat outside, his hand resting on the pusher without moving.

He sat next to Zeng Yi, arms crossed, staring at Linghua through the glass window.

The intro had already been played once, but Linghua didn't speak. She shook her head and said, "Let's do it again."

The sound engineer played the accompaniment again, the drumbeats came down, and this time Linghua scored in the second measure.

"I am looking up at the moon."

Linghua's voice exploded in the monitor speakers, filling the entire recording studio.

Her voice isn't the delicate type that needs to be refined with technique; it's genuinely deep and powerful.

Zeng Yi and Linghua had been singing at that nightclub in Shenzhen for several years; he knew her too well.

Linghua used to sing other people's songs, covering this and that, but she never sang a song written specifically for her.

This song, from the lyrics to the music, was tailor-made for her, and she sounds different from before the moment she opens her mouth.

"In the second chorus, how many dreams do you have? Hold on to the last note, don't end it so quickly."

Linghua made an OK sign through the glass window, took a sip of water, and continued.

The recording studio door was pushed open from the outside, and Jiang Han walked in.

Linghua was singing the second chorus, her voice coming from the monitor speakers, with her characteristic graininess.

After Linghua finished singing, Fang Chongwen pressed the intercom button.

"Take a five-minute break first."

Linghua took off her headphones, rubbed her neck, and turned to see the Yangtze River outside the glass window.

"General Manager Jiang."

"Are you deliberately holding back on the high notes?" Jiang Han asked her.

Linghua did not deny it: "I was afraid that if I used too much force, my voice would explode."

"This song is going to be explosive."

"Look at the lyrics: 'Above the moon, how many dreams are soaring freely?' If you sing it restrained, how can those dreams take flight?"

Linghua thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Do it one more time, but don't stop." Jiang Han said and then left.

Linghua put her headphones back on and stood in front of the microphone.

The sound engineer played the accompaniment again, and the drumbeats came down; she didn't wait for the second measure.

The phrase "I am looking up" burst from my throat like a horse breaking free of its pen, unstoppable.

Jiang Han listened from outside, a smile playing on his lips.

Zeng Yi whispered from the side, "Chairman Jiang, what you said worked. I could tell just now that she was holding back her singing, but she wouldn't listen when I told her to."

"You've known each other for so long that she treats you as a friend. She doesn't take what her friends say seriously, but she listens to what the boss says."

"Chairman Jiang, I'll send you the first version to listen to tonight after I finish working on it."

"Okay." Jiang Han waved his hand without turning his head.

When Jiang Han returned to his office, Qiu Siyao sent him a message saying that the listings were ready and asking when he would like to go see them.

He replied that it would be tomorrow afternoon.

Before he could even put his phone down, Xia Yutong sent another message: "The report is finished, I've sent it to your email."

Jiang Han opened his email and scanned it.

Xia Yutong wrote it in great detail, listing the number of shots, production progress, technical difficulties, and team status one by one.

He added at the end, "The dumpling team is very hardworking, and everything went smoothly after the funding was secured. Lin Yaoyao went with us today; she knows more than I do, so I suggest we involve her more in the future."

He picked up the glass on the table, took a sip of water, and leaned back in his chair.

The sentence in the email, "It is suggested that you involve her more in the future," lingered in his mind.

It's true that Lin Yaoyao understands animation, but Xia Yutong bringing it up herself was a bit unexpected for him.

Jiang Han thought Xia Yutong wouldn't be too willing to get too close to Lin Yaoyao, since both of them were related to him, and it would be somewhat awkward for them to meet.

But today, she not only invited Lin Yaoyao to go with her, but also suggested in the report that she continue to bring her along.

This shows that she prioritized work over personal emotions.

Jiang Han thought for a moment and typed a few words in the reply box: "Okay, I'll invite her next time."

After clicking send, he put his phone on the table.

The internal phone on the desk rang, and the secretary said that General Manager Fang was looking for him.

Jiang Han stood up, walked out of the office, and headed towards the recording studio.

The corridor was quiet; it was almost time to leave work, and most employees were packing up their belongings at their workstations in preparation for their departure.

As he passed by the company secretary's office, he saw Xia Yutong sitting at her desk, typing on her computer screen.

She changed her clothes, wearing a black blazer and a white shirt.

Xia Yutong sensed someone at the door and was taken aback when she saw it was Jiang Han.

"Still not gone?"

"I'll leave as soon as I finish this little bit of work," Xia Yutong said, then added, "Did you receive the report?"

"received."

"Yutong, don't work too hard!"

After saying that, Jiang Han turned and left.

Xia Yutong sat at the table, her mind replaying his casual words of concern.

Three words spoken by Jiang Han are more effective than any lengthy discourse from others.