Lu Chenyan's Pursuit

The family banquet concluded as night deepened.

Lu Chenyuan drove the car while Mo Qingli sat in the passenger seat.

No music played inside the vehicle—only the soft hum of the air conditioning filled the silence.

The liveliness from the estate earlier still seemed to linger in their ears.

Lou Mengling’s laughter, Lu Qianqian’s embrace, Lu Chenyan’s rekindled determination.

Everything had been perfect—so perfect it felt almost unreal.

“What are you thinking about?” Mo Qingli broke the silence.

“Nothing,” Lu Chenyuan replied, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Just that today was good.”

His words were simple, but Mo Qingli understood their weight.

She turned her head slightly, observing his hands on the steering wheel—knuckles defined, steady and strong.

These were the same hands that had altered the fate of the Lu family and stirred upheaval in the business world.

Yet now, they merely guided the car in quiet motion.

“My mother was happy,” Lu Chenyuan added.

“Yes, your mother is lovely,” Mo Qingli said sincerely. “The bracelet she gave me is beautiful.”

She lifted her wrist, where the jade bracelet glowed softly under the moonlight, its green hue warm and translucent.

Lu Chenyuan’s gaze flickered to the bracelet before returning to the road.

“My mother was right.”

“Hmm?”

“That bracelet belongs to the Lou family. You can keep it without any reservations,” he explained.

Mo Qingli smiled.

This man could be endearingly earnest in certain matters.

“I don’t feel any reservations,” she said.

The car came to a stop beneath the towering heights of Cloud Peak Residences.

They rode the elevator up together.

In the confined space, the atmosphere shifted subtly.

Lu Chenyuan caught the faint trace of her perfume.

Mo Qingli sensed the reassuring presence emanating from him.

When the elevator reached her floor, the doors slid open.

Mo Qingli didn’t step out immediately.

Instead, she looked at Lu Chenyuan and suddenly asked, “Chenyuan, family banquets are reciprocal, aren’t they?”

Lu Chenyuan paused, meeting her gaze.

“By tradition, shouldn’t I also take you… home for a meal?” Her tone was calm, as if discussing a clause in a business contract.

But a hint of amusement flickered in her eyes.

She knew this man was oblivious when it came to matters of the heart.

If she didn’t take the initiative, he might never think of it himself—or, even if he did, he’d never dare voice it.

Lu Chenyuan’s heartbeat stuttered.

He had thought about it.

After Lou Mengling proposed the family banquet, the question had crossed his mind.

A formal visit to Mo Qingli’s parents—a necessary step to solidify their relationship.

But he hadn’t known how to bring it up.

Now, she had spoken the words for him.

Under her straightforward gaze, he felt exposed, his hesitation and clumsiness laid bare.

He cleared his throat, striving for formality.

“Of course. I’m available anytime. Just let me know once you’ve arranged it.”

The words sounded stiff to his own ears—like he was awaiting a schedule from a subordinate.

Mo Qingli’s smile deepened.

“Good. I’ll check with my parents then.”

With that, she stepped out of the elevator.

The doors closed slowly, obscuring her figure.

Lu Chenyuan leaned against the elevator wall and exhaled quietly.

Somehow, the thought of visiting the Mo family made him more nervous than when he’d first struck out on his own from the Lu family.

---

The next day, at Dragoncrest Technologies headquarters.

Lu Chenyan, clad in a cap and sunglasses, strode into the executive office suite on the top floor.

Having notified them in advance, he breezed past the secretarial area and pushed open the COO’s office door without hesitation.

“Qian!”

Ren Qian, engrossed in a document, startled at the sudden intrusion.

She looked up, surprised.

“Third Young Master? What brings you here?”

“I need your help—urgently!” Lu Chenyan removed his sunglasses, his eyes alight with unprecedented fervor.

He marched to her desk, bracing his hands on its surface as he leaned forward, breath uneven with excitement.

“I’m starting a company!”

Ren Qian blinked.

“A company? What kind?”

“An entertainment company!” The words tumbled out in a rush. “Elder Brother made me see it clearly! I want to establish my own entertainment firm, set industry standards, bring our Xia culture to the world!”

His face radiated unrestrained enthusiasm and ambition.

Last night’s dinner conversation with his eldest brother had planted a seed in his mind—one that had sprouted overnight into a towering vision.

He’d barely slept, his thoughts consumed by plans for the future.

Traditional music, sci-fi epics, virtual idols, a global distribution network…

Every dream he’d once dismissed as fantasy, he now intended to make reality.

Ren Qian studied him.

This Lu Chenyan bore little resemblance to the impulsive, somewhat childish A-list celebrity she knew.

His eyes held something new—conviction.

Steady and burning.

She didn’t respond immediately.

Instead, she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, assessing him with cool detachment.

“Third Young Master, launching a company is no trivial matter. Especially in entertainment—the waters run deep, and pitfalls abound. Your vision is commendable, but how will you execute it? Your team, funding, business model—have you considered these?”

As Dragoncrest’s COO, she wasn’t here to indulge a child’s whims.

Though Lu Chenyuan had already briefed her, she needed confirmation this wasn’t just a passing fancy.

Lu Chenyan’s fervor didn’t waver under her scrutiny.

He pulled out a chair and sat across from her.

“I’ve thought it through.”

From his pocket, he produced a small notebook, its pages crammed with hastily scrawled ideas—some nearly illegible in his excitement.

Then, point by point, he laid out his plan.

By the time he finished, his eyes gleamed with intensity.

Ren Qian listened in silence.

Her initial skepticism gave way to surprise, then—finally—a trace of approval.

Lu Chenyan’s proposal was still rough around the edges.

But he’d grasped the essentials.

Content as king, distribution as victory.

More importantly, he had scope.

His focus wasn’t on personal profit but on building a cultural platform with global influence.

It aligned, in spirit, with Lu Chenyuan’s approach to Dragoncrest.

“I see,” Ren Qian nodded, picking up a pen.

“Walk me through your ideas in detail. I’ll help you draft a formal business plan.”

“Then, I’ll leverage my connections to find you a suitable CEO and assemble a core team.”

“That’s perfect! Thank you, Qian!” Lu Chenyan shot to his feet, elated.

“Don’t thank me,” Ren Qian replied evenly. “If this venture succeeds, it benefits Dragoncrest’s ecosystem too. I’m just doing my job.”

She paused, then added—almost as an afterthought—

“But your ideas are impressive.”

For Lu Chenyan, her direct praise meant more than the adoration of millions of fans.