Trust my judgment, this young girl is not bad.

Young Master Cao's personality is just like this.

He doesn't care much about money.

For example, he can offer very favorable contracts to the artists under his management, even letting them take the lion's share—but only if they provide emotional value, or have the potential to do so in the future.

So,

Young Master Cao is willing to take a loss for the sake of reputation, but he won’t let himself be treated as a fool.

Even if he loses, it has to be on his own terms.

The Fourth asked, "Are we still signing that little girl? If not, I’ll have Sister Li come back from the capital. The New Year is almost here, and the company has a lot to handle."

"Tell Sister Li to come back. Give the girl’s mother a final heads-up—if she’s willing to come to Zhonghai to talk, I’ll meet her personally. If not, forget it."

"Also,"

Cao Cheng thought for a moment, "I watched a show earlier… a proper one."

The Fourth side-eyed him. "You wouldn’t have needed to clarify if you hadn’t said that."

"…" Cao Cheng smirked. "Have you seen it?"

"Piss off~" The Fourth kicked at him.

Cao Cheng dodged a step back, caught her foot, and chuckled as he massaged it playfully.

After a bit of fooling around, her leg was still in his grip.

Cao Cheng continued, "There’s another girl who’s quite talented. I was planning to wait a while, but since we can’t sign this one, let’s go for her instead."

"Who?" The Fourth was puzzled.

"Uh—"

While kneading her calf, Cao Cheng pondered. "What was her name… The show was called 'Not Even One Can Be Missing'… No, no, it was 'Can’t Live Without Mother'!"

The Fourth frowned.

She’d never even heard of that title.

A quick online search later—

It actually existed.

No wonder she hadn’t heard of it…

A regional TV drama, funded by… the Hali Island Resort!

Clearly, this was a low-budget production—no famous stars, no top-tier crew, no promotions, nothing.

In modern terms, it’d be called a short drama.

But…

This thing had even fewer fans than most short dramas. Even a country bumpkin wouldn’t bother watching this kind of plot!

"Who caught your eye?"

The Fourth scanned the cast list. "The lead child actress? Zhaodi? The mute girl? Xiuxiu?"

Based on the credits, those were the top three roles.

Cao Cheng shook his head and pointed. "This one."

"Zhao Jinmai?"

A search of the cast turned up almost no photos—barely any trace of her.

Finally, one image surfaced.

The girl looked dark-skinned.

With heavy dark circles under her eyes.

Utterly rustic~~

The Fourth frowned. "You’re sure about this?"

Cao Cheng grinned. "Trust my eye. This girl’s got potential."

The Fourth didn’t get it, but she respected his call.

"Fine. I’ll dig up her details and have Sister Li go fetch her directly."

"Deal."

And so it was settled.

Honestly,

Among the post-2000s generation of actresses, only a handful would ever make it big.

Especially given the industry’s hierarchy—film actors look down on TV actors, TV actors look down on variety show stars.

Even if this hierarchy fades over time, it’ll never fully disappear.

So, those who can break into films early tend to have higher ceilings.

As for looks—

No one could compare to his four elder sisters, so appearance wasn’t a factor.

Growth potential was all that mattered.

First choice was Zhang Zifeng—outwardly obedient, easy for Cao Cheng to manage, and great for harvesting fan emotions.

But if she’s off the table, Zhao Jinmai is just as good.

With a little polishing, she’d blossom into a goddess-tier star.

She might not look like much now, especially with those eye bags.

But once those fade, she’ll grow into her looks—and her screen presence is legit.

---

The next day.

Capital City.

Sister Li met with Zhang Zifeng and her mother.

Sister Li quite liked the girl—she seemed sweet and adorable.

No point discussing acting chops at this age.

Child stars aren’t lacking in talent. Their raw expressiveness, natural instincts, and mimicry skills often outshine adults’.

That’s why so many child actors deliver powerhouse performances.

But once they grow up? Most fade into obscurity.

Sister Li gently patted the girl’s head, then turned to the middle-aged woman.

An ordinary mom, nothing special.

"I’m heading back to Zhonghai today. Just wanted to say goodbye."

"I was in favor of signing Little Zifeng, but contract terms are non-negotiable. My hands are tied."

"Yesterday, President Ren updated Boss Cao on the situation. His stance is: If you’re willing to come to Zhonghai, he’ll meet you personally. If not, then we wish Little Zifeng the best at Huaxiong."

No more pleasantries. After speaking, Sister Li waved at the girl and left with her bag.

Mother and daughter stood in silence.

They’d spent weeks negotiating.

Normally, Sister Li wouldn’t have this much patience. She’s a top-tier agent, after all.

She’s groomed countless A-list stars.

Could’ve started her own agency ages ago—connections and capital aren’t an issue.

Since when does she waste a month chasing some kid?

Let’s be real:

This industry won’t collapse without any one person.

If you can build up one star, you can build another. No one’s irreplaceable.

Sister Li was baffled.

Why was Young Master Cao so fixated on this girl? Sure, she acted in that earthquake film by Little Cannon, showed some emotional range.

But that’s it.

Was this really necessary?

Raising child stars is a headache.

Name one child star who stayed relevant after growing up.

Their personalities aren’t even fully formed yet. Who knows how they’ll turn out?

What if they get into drugs, or some scandalous photos leak?

Game over.

---

"Mom."

After Sister Li left, Little Zifeng looked up at her mother, eyes brimming with disappointment.

She wanted to sign with Zhonghai’s Miracle Media.

But her mom was set on Huaxiong.

After all, Huaxiong is the first listed entertainment giant in the mainland—the industry leader.

Sure, Miracle Media’s been making waves, but are they publicly traded?

Nope.

How many artists do they have?

Fewer than ten, right?

You could argue that Cao Cheng’s the richest man, fine. But how much attention does a billionaire really give to showbiz?

Just because Miracle Media is one of his companies doesn’t make it the best in the biz.

That’s not how it works.

"We’re signing with Huaxiong," her mother sighed, pulling her close.

"But I want Miracle."

"Sweetheart, trust me. Would I steer you wrong? Huaxiong’s resources and connections are top-notch. They’ve promised to nurture you. You’ll be their youngest signed artist—the little sister everyone spoils."

"All the senior stars will look out for you, understand?"

"Plus, studying in the capital beats Zhonghai. This is the heart of the country. Huaxiong’s head of talent even said they’ll get you more film roles as you grow."

"Movies, Zifeng, not TV dramas."

"Snap out of it."

"..."

The woman wasn’t wrong.

Most kids would’ve agreed without a second thought.

But Zhang Zifeng shook her head. "Let’s just go and meet them. Who knows? You might change your mind. We can treat it like a trip to Zhonghai."

"You’re such a stubborn little thing. No idea where you get it from," the woman sighed.

"Please, please, please…"

"Fine, fine. We’ll go. But you listen to me there—Mom knows what’s best for you."

"Mm."

With that, the woman picked up her phone and called Sister Li.

Sister Li booked them two tickets for a flight two days later.

But she didn’t join them—she still had business in the northeast.

...

Three days later.

Zhonghai.

Sister Li returned, accompanied by a mother and daughter.

The little girl gaped at the sights around her.

The airport was unbelievably luxurious.

They soon boarded a company-arranged van.

As they drove into the city proper, the girl pressed her face against the window, taking in everything outside.

She’d never left the northeast before—this was her first time, and her very first stop was the entertainment capital. The dazzling spectacle left her breathless.

No matter how much her mother tugged at her, she couldn’t contain her excitement, gasping at the bustling streets and towering skyscrapers.

"Mai Zi, sit properly or I’ll wallop you!"

"..."

"Slouching like that—what did I teach you about manners?"

"..."

"Are you ignoring me now? Deaf or what?"

"..."

Sister Li suppressed a sigh.

She’d just witnessed the legendary fierceness of northeastern women firsthand.

But if she were honest…

She liked this pair. They were bold, unpretentious—the girl especially, lively and unrestrained.

A complete contrast to Zhang Zifeng and her mother, who carried themselves with such reserve.

Soon, they arrived at the office building where Miracle Media was headquartered.

The company’s main offices were technically in the eco-park, but day-to-day operations mostly took place in the high-rise.

The second phase of the eco-park was still under construction.

Once completed, the entire team would relocate there.

Young Master Cao had his priorities, after all.

The so-called "eco-park" was practically his private estate. Officially, it was for corporate use, but aside from a few research teams, hardly anyone had access.

Of course, there was a convenient excuse:

The research centers were housed there, requiring top-tier security—this was the future of the company, even humanity itself.

With that line, who’d dare wander in uninvited?

What outsiders didn’t know was that Cao Cheng wasn’t lying.

The compound held eight research institutes.

In just six months, they’d filed over ten thousand patents.

Ninety-nine percent were confidential—trade secrets obscured within otherwise "fully disclosed" filings, like vague recipe instructions calling for "a pinch" of something.

Think cosmetics: a cream’s molecular formula and packaging could be patented, but its core proprietary essence? Never revealed.

...

The eight institutes were accelerating, their output multiplying.

Next year would see even more—researcher numbers would skyrocket, as would Young Master Cao’s unboxing sessions, laying the groundwork for countless new patents.