Chapter 220: My Mind Is Full of You

Leave this matter to Huang Bing to handle. Fang Hong doesn't care, he won't touch this.

Besides, this matter is different from the shoehorn one. That earlier one was a direct ask—give it if you want, forget it if you won't.

Anyway, the thing already happened.

This time it hasn't happened yet. If the other party pays, the amount can't go through Neidi accounts—it has to go through European and American banks, otherwise there'll be trouble.

Anyway, the accounts go overseas, there's no transaction on record.

Hong Kong's legal system is a bit different from Neidi's.

Anyway, who knows if the other party will pay. Fang Hong guesses they probably won't—these are all old foxes who've been around for years, how could they be scammed so easily?

Most likely it's just a stalling tactic!

When Fang Hong got home that evening, Xu Liyun chattered on and on about Liu Tianxian accompanying her on a spring outing.

She also said she'd arrange another shopping trip next time—this thoroughly satisfied his mom.

Fang Hong didn't say anything, just felt happy for his mom. Seeing that his old mother still had a head of black hair, he couldn't help but feel a bit comforted.

In his past life, within just a few years his mom had grown lots of white hair and visibly aged. Now, being happy made her look several years younger.

At night, as usual, he called Liu Tianxian.

"Master, that guy is calling again!"

Liu Tianxian heard the phone ring in the bathroom, wiped her hands, walked to the bed, and picked up the phone from the nightstand.

Seeing "Fang Gouzi" on the screen, she smiled sweetly, tucked her hair by her temple, and answered: "Right on time, aren't you."

"Naturally." Fang Hong said.

Liu Tianxian leaned against the headboard: "What are you doing?"

"No matter what I'm doing, in my heart I'm always thinking of you." Sweet words just rolled off Fang Hong's tongue.

Liu Tianxian smiled, her voice soft and gentle: "How much do you think of me?"

"Very much. I think of you hundreds and thousands of times a day."

"That's too few! Only hundreds and thousands of times!"

"Still too few? I'm thinking of you every single moment—my mind is full of you."

"You're lying. A day has over eighty thousand seconds—how could you be thinking of me every single moment!"

Liu Tianxian was being as petty as a little girl.

"You even remember how many seconds are in a day, you're amazing, I truly admire you." Fang Hong teased her.

"Don't try to change the subject, this is a very serious question, it must be taken seriously." Liu Tianxian deliberately made her voice solemn.

"Yes, yes, yes, my awareness is insufficient, I will definitely correct it."

"."

The two of them chatted just like a young couple in love—even a single topic of "do you miss me or not" could drag on until midnight, without sleeping.

And they piled up heaps of nonsense, chatting with great enthusiasm, completely unlike their usual images.

Anyway, Liu Tianxian felt sweet; Fang Hong felt fulfilled, as if he had the power of love.

That day, Jing Tian, led by her secretary, arrived at a spacious, bright room.

The secretary gestured, then bowed and withdrew.

Jing Tian nodded, then looked toward the window, where a man was sitting.

The man sat before an easel, drawing on the canvas in front of him, sunlight spilling over him, quiet and warm.

She walked closer and saw the man holding a pencil in his hand—a few strokes sketched out a cartoon figure on the white paper, vivid and lifelike.

Then she looked at the man's profile—sharp, defined contours, his focused expression carrying a captivating charm.

Seeing the shadows appear on the paper, Fang Hong looked up and saw a delicate face with a soft, graceful beauty, fair lips and white teeth giving an air of nobility.

"Miss Jing, hello."

Fang Hong pulled over a stool, gesturing for her to sit beside him.

Jing Tian came back to herself, sat on the chair: "I remember you."

She wore a white dress, her posture dignified and elegant!

Fang Hong was baffled: "What makes you say that, Miss Jing?"

"A few years ago, we met on the Beijing Film Academy campus. You were with a guy, hugging and being all lovey-dovey—was that you?" Jing Tian even mimed a hug, her manner adorable.

"I don't remember. I have a bad memory, I forget a lot of things once I've done them." Fang Hong really had forgotten.

That was when he'd landed his first investment, hugging Yu Xian in joy on the Beijing Film Academy campus—back when he was still so naive.

It was a long time ago, perfectly normal not to remember.

"Then we met at Bazaar, do you remember?" Jing Tian leaned forward, her big eyes bright and spirited.

"That I do remember." Fang Hong nodded.

That night, Jing Tian had thrown money around like water—a memory still fresh.

Jing Tian's face broke into a smile, looking at the drawing on the board: "What are you drawing here?"

"A cartoon character. I named it Baymax." Fang Hong said.

It's the Baymax from Big Hero 6.

This animation alone, just from Baymax merchandise—toys, plushies and the like—has made a fortune worldwide.

Recently Fang Hong has been fully focused on his animation career!

"So cute!" Jing Tian giggled, her smile very sweet and very approachable.

"Let's talk business." Fang Hong said.

"Okay."

Jing Tian sat up straight, looking at him seriously. This actually made Fang Hong uncomfortable—talk about business, and Jing Tian became all proper like an obedient child.

He couldn't quite bring himself to hate this girl—after all, she was forced into it. He had to give her a role, though he did so with a bit of annoyance.

Fang Hong took out a notebook and handed it to her: "Take a look at this notebook, do you want to play the female lead?"

"Mm-hmm."

Jing Tian set down her bag, took it, and looked at the cover—several big characters reading *American Dreams in China*. A little puzzled, she flipped open to the first page: the plot synopsis.

She said as she read: "Give me a rough idea of the character, will you?"

"She's a high achiever drunk on the American Dream. A tacky man shows up in her life, she ends up pregnant, and has a child." Fang Hong gave a rough summary.

"This child—was it for someone else?" Jing Tian's eyes went wide.

This female lead seemed a bit too much—worshipping everything foreign, having outdoor sex with a foreigner, and in the end having a child who wasn't even smart.

Listening to the beginning, you think it's a beautiful love story; listening to the rest, it's nothing of the sort.

"Mm, this role does chip away at your image a little. But an actress, most importantly, has to break out of herself—don't box yourself into one fixed frame." Fang Hong worked his charm.

No choice—if she didn't take this one, she could only be given *Now You See Me*; there wasn't really another film that suited her.

Should have come earlier, then she could have gone to act in the Abortion Trilogy.

"That's actually pretty reasonable." Jing Tian nodded.

Fang Hong tried asking: "So, uh, does that mean you're taking it?"

"Do you think I should?" Jing Tian asked back.

"If you want some ambition, take it if you want to be an actress; don't take it if you want to be a star. Up to you." Fang Hong was at it again with the dreams-and-ambitions routine.

Every star has an actor's dream.

"Then I'll take it!" Jing Tian still listened to this man—have some ambition.

"You'll be a good actress."

Fang Hong reached out his hand in approval.

Jing Tian gave it a light squeeze, grinning: "If one day I really become an actress, I'll thank you."

"No need for thanks—as long as you can improve yourself, I'll be very happy." Fang Hong made it sound nice.

"Mm!"

Jing Tian nodded seriously, her gaze sincere.

No one had ever treated her as an actress before—those people had all just been coaxing her.

Jing Tian left reluctantly, and even when she got home and lay in bed that night, her mind was still filled with the image of sunlight falling on that man, and the picture of him drawing intently.

And that man's profile, his voice and smile, as if floating right before her eyes.

"My mind is full of you!" she murmured.

To Fang Hong, Jing Tian's matter was just a small interlude—merely completing a task; once it was done, that was that.

Now it was up to Wen Muye to see how he'd shoot this film well.

These past few days Liu Tianxian had been running her schedule—shooting ads and artistic photos. The season was just right, neither cold nor hot.

She also took part in some events along the way, some charitable, some showing up for brand sponsors—she'd be busy for a while.

Now she could show up for a few hours and pocket a few million—easy money. But it was all hers; it had nothing to do with Jade Rabbit.

Her earnings were split off from Jade Rabbit's; as for how they split things behind the scenes, Fang Hong wouldn't get involved.

On the third day, Huang Bing came to report.

"Boss Fang, Ceng Aizi says give him a few more days—he's scrambling to raise money urgently. But behind the scenes he's been pulling strings everywhere, trying to find out who's coming after him. What do you think?"

"What a sly old fox."

Fang Hong gave a cold laugh. He'd known it would be like this, but he wouldn't wait around: "Here's what we'll do—you pixelate the photos and post them on Tianya, use an overseas IP, don't let anyone trace it."

"Not sell them to the media?" Huang Bing asked.

Selling to the media, they could still make some money.

"Can't sell to the media. If this blows up, it's too big—if we get involved now, we'll have to pay a price. The best move is to stay out of it." Fang Hong instructed.

The previous sex-photo scandal was already huge; if this blew up, the higher-ups would probably have to suppress the buzz.

Of course, the short guy was done for.

That was also why he pixelated them—if he didn't, the higher-ups would have to scrub the internet; it would amount to spreading pornographic images, and they wouldn't let such images exist.

And they'd pursue criminal liability on top of that.

Pixelated, it's no longer pornographic—at least there's a bottom line—and the higher-ups won't pursue it too hard.

"If we post it on Tianya, we won't get a single cent." Huang Bing said again.

"If we can't get it, then we can't—doesn't matter." Fang Hong waved his hand.

Getting it would be best, but not getting it, he didn't care either.

Huang Bing understood—a man who loved money this much had always insisted on money before, yet now didn't want it. Truly baffling.

Actually, wanting money was just Fang Hong not wanting to take a loss, and killing two birds with one stone—taking down the short guy while also making money.

That way the short guy would probably feel absolutely wretched.

But that money couldn't change hands domestically, and the media couldn't be involved either—if it were, it would amount to having leverage against them.

So since they couldn't get it, forget it—he wasn't short of that little bit of money.

Don't read too much into it—it's just a one-sided crush, dear readers, don't over-interpret!

(End of chapter)