Chapter 38: Eating Barbecue, Singing Songs

“A friend.”

Under the curious gazes of the others, Li Luo gave a vague explanation and put his phone away.

He didn’t want to say much more.

The others didn’t press further and continued with their barbecue feast.

Sipping beer intermittently, Li Luo wondered inwardly—he hadn’t contacted Wu Dun in a long time; why the sudden call? Could it be he wanted to bring up old business?

He truly had no desire to sign with an agency.

Sure, they could provide resources.

But the commission rate was terrifying, especially for newcomers—thirty, fifty percent, even higher.

It was like knife cuts.

They’d carve out even the bone fragments.

Signing a contract would make him vulnerable; many artists got blacklisted after falling out with agencies. Li Luo preferred to run his own personal studio.

After fifteen minutes, bright headlights blinded the diners at the barbecue stall.

A brand-new Tiger Head Ben pulled up slowly beside the road.

Its sleek, glossy black body.

Drew the attention of many.

Compared to the Santanas filling the streets, the steady, imposing Tiger Head Ben delivered a powerful visual impact—had anyone had a smartphone, they’d have stopped to take photos.

Bian Xiaoxiao stared at the luxury car beside them, her eyes filled with longing.

If only she could get inside and sit in it.

How wonderful that would be.

Even crying inside this car would be better than laughing from the back of a bicycle.

The rear door opened.

Bian Xiaoxiao’s heart quickened.

But when a man with a fierce, ugly face stepped out, her spirits dipped—until he walked toward them, and her hope rose again.

Maybe… it wasn’t impossible.

While she was lost in thought, Wu Dun walked straight over to them in full view of everyone.

“Xiao Luo, these are your classmates, right?”

He chuckled, pulled three hundred yuan from his wallet, and placed it on the table: “Tonight, Uncle treats you—don’t be shy!”

“Hurry up.”

With the group still stunned, Wu Dun waved again: “We’re not going far—just hop in the car and chat with me for a bit.”

The way he said that.

Li Luo wasn’t sure if he’d just gained or lost a generation.

“You guys keep eating.”

Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he greeted his classmates, then followed Wu Dun into the back seat of the Tiger Head Ben.

At that moment, Li Luo’s back.

To Bian Xiaoxiao, seemed to glow.

The others looked at each other, then at the light, fluttering hundred-yuan bills on the table, and finally turned their eyes to the black Mercedes beside them—their barbecue suddenly tasteless.

The car door closed.

The noise outside vanished instantly.

A man with glasses sat in the driver’s seat; the two nodded at each other.

Li Luo settled in comfortably.

“This is good stuff,” Wu Dun said, opening a wooden box and pulling out two thick, torpedo-shaped cigars: “Monte No. 2, aged five years—perfectly matured.”

As he spoke, he clicked open the cigar cutter.

Soon after,

he handed one freshly trimmed, aged cigar over: “Complex flavor, rich and full-bodied.”

“Thank you.”

Li Luo accepted it, raised it to his nose, and sniffed.

The tobacco scent was pleasant, but he was mostly pretending—he had to show respect when someone presented something seriously.

After a brief warm-up, he rotated the cigar and lit it.

Li Luo let the smoke swirl in his mouth, then exhaled toward the side.

He couldn’t tell much of a difference, but the taste was indeed good.

“You’ve gotten darker.”

Wu Dun studied Li Luo after lighting his cigar: “And bulkier too—much more masculine than before.”

When he came, he’d been slightly worried.

Afraid Lin Pingzhi’s image had left a mark on Li Luo—but now, seeing him, there was no trace of Lin Pingzhi left. He looked handsomer, tougher, and Wu Dun nodded repeatedly in approval.

After smashing the ashtray in his office,

watching TV, Wu Dun felt he’d received divine guidance.

Without hesitation, he called Li Luo.

He wanted to meet in person to see how Li Luo looked now—and after careful observation, he was even more satisfied.

And Li Luo’s height far surpassed Su Youpeng’s.

In the drama, he’d fit better.

His ancient costume look was obvious too—at least to Wu Dun, he stood out far more than Youpeng’s baby face.

Wu Dun’s gaze wandered, growing more satisfied by the second.

He might not have much fame yet, but he wasn’t unknown—“The Smiling, Proud Wanderer” got criticized, but plenty watched. Everyone starts from nothing; this kid’s acting could handle it.

Besides, he was mainly pushing someone else—no big issue.

“Wu Ge.”

Li Luo bit his cigar, leaned back slightly: “Just say it straight—don’t stare at me like that. I’m scared!”

Though he was joking,

after Wu Dun complimented him on his masculinity, he’d kept staring with an odd expression.

Anyone would feel creeped out.

“Cough~”

Wu Dun choked on his smoke, gritting his teeth: “What are you talking about? Do you think I’m the kind who stares at people’s asses?”

“Click.”

At that moment, a tall woman in a floral mini-skirt walked past the window.

Her waist swayed, skirt flaring left and right.

Her high heels tapped out a sharp rhythm; all three men in the car turned their heads to follow the modern urban beauty. When she reached the front of the car, she tossed her long hair over her shoulder and smiled back.

“Yao~~~”

All three recoiled as if doused with cold water.

“Be serious.”

Wu Dun cleared his throat, face calm: “I came here for a real reason, Xiao Luo. You know I admire you.”

“What about that previous offer? Think about it again.”

“If you agree,”

he waved his hand grandly, “I’ll give you your first lead role—in a major production!”

The glasses-wearing driver scratched his ear and stared fixedly out the window.

Wu Dun’s face brimmed with confidence.

Even if Li Luo asked Xu Qing, that Beijing princess would likely urge him to accept—who could refuse a lead role in a major production? It wasn’t something you got without deep connections.

He didn’t believe this kid wouldn’t bite.

And it was two birds with one stone: find a lead actor and sign Li Luo.

Only then could he maximize profit.

That’s the power of information asymmetry—phrase it right, and no one would guess he was desperate for a lead.

Though he deeply admired Li Luo,

the businessman in Wu Dun still pushed him to act in his own best interest.

“May I ask, Wu Ge,”

Li Luo, after inhaling deeply on his cigar, asked in a low voice: “What drama are you calling a ‘major production’?”

Eating barbecue, singing songs, and suddenly dragged into a car.

And now told he’d get a lead role.

Anyone would be confused.

He truly didn’t want to sign with an agency, but the offer was too tempting—he was mentally tangled, so he asked a random question just to buy time.

“The Heaven Sword and Dragon Saber.”

Wu Dun tapped his cigar, pride in his voice: “Twenty million investment. Supporting cast drawn from across the Taiwan-Hong Kong-Mainland region.”

“I’ll give you the full star power!”