Chapter 374

As long as this clause is added, as long as Fang Hong maintains 51% equity, anyone in the partnership who makes a mistake or whom Fang Hong dislikes can be kicked out.

He can also reclaim their equity, since without partner status, equity becomes useless.

Of course, to protect their interests, the equity must be repurchased at its fair market value.

If equity is arbitrarily reclaimed, it's far too insecure—once the company is built and the foundation laid, if the Principal kicks someone out but denies them fair value for their equity, they'll have no sense of security.

"Xiao Feifei, you're so smart." Fang Hong exclaimed happily.

He wrapped his arms around Liu Tianxian's waist and kept planting messy kisses on her face and lips.

Adding this clause gives him absolute control—no one can shake his authority, even if they unite; he'll just kick them all out.

He's essentially the emperor, and the Elders' Council becomes his cabinet, merely executing his strategy.

Liu Tianxian tilted her chin up, letting him kiss her face recklessly—this man always did this whenever he was happy or excited; she was used to it.

She chuckled and reminded him: "Actually, you don't have to add this clause yet. Wait until the business is up and running, nearly established, then slip it in at the right moment. Right now you have absolute authority—what's there to fear?"

It's not yet time to ascend the throne; wait until the empire is won before speaking of it.

Adding it now will breed distrust—especially since you could kick me out anytime.

This system was meant to attract top-tier talent: first build high walls, stockpile grain, delay proclaiming yourself king—that's the general idea.

It's much like what Fang Hong had in mind: start low-key, develop quietly, then discuss other matters later.

"That makes sense," Fang Hong said. He'd originally wanted to prepare for the worst—draft the rules early—but if the rules are too rigid, others won't want to join.

"Your Partner System has no flaws—it ties everyone else's interests to yours. Even without understanding business, I know that tying interests together makes people work toward a common goal."

Liu Tianxian encouraged him, patting his shoulder: "You've already solved the motivation problem for those working for you. As long as they're motivated, you're a qualified leader."

Leadership isn't about being exceptionally capable—it's about solving the motivation problem for those beneath you.

No matter how capable someone is, if they lack motivation to work for you, they're useless.

This kind of thing, this man could only discuss with her—anyone else in the company would consider things from their own perspective.

Only she considered things from Fang Hong's perspective—she genuinely wanted him to succeed.

"I never thought my Xiao Feifei had such insight," Fang Hong leaned closer.

"Of course—I don't start businesses, but if I did, I'd be the big boss," Liu Tianxian said proudly, pressing her body against him.

"Should I call you Director Liu?" Fang Hong smiled.

"Yes, call me Boss Liu—say 'Boss Liu' for me," Liu Tianxian giggled, lifting her slender index finger to tilt his chin.

"Auntie, I don't want to try anymore!" Fang Hong hugged her, nuzzling his head against her neck like a child.

Liu Tianxian wore little—a short-sleeved shirt—her neck bare; the rubbing sent a tingling sensation through her body, for that spot was especially sensitive.

She stroked his head and chuckled: "Alright, Auntie will support you."

"Auntie, you're so good," Fang Hong kissed her neck.

The flesh there was soft and fragrant.

"Mmm! That tickles," Liu Tianxian murmured, feeling the warm breath and the tingling numbness of his kisses, her voice soft with sensitivity.

Seeing her flushed face and seductive tone, Fang Hong grew even more eager.

The two grew affectionate again, but this was the office—so they only kissed, nothing more.

Time passed quickly, and soon it was September; the entertainment circle remained flooded with gossip.

First, Rupert Murdoch and Deng Wendi divorced; Deng Wendi was expelled from the News Corporation media empire, and thus lost her behind-the-scenes backing, no longer shining as brightly.

Just two years ago, any international gala would invite her; she chatted effortlessly with political and business elites, even appearing in parliament.

As for the future, one could only sigh.

It's not about being strong or exceptionally capable—this world never lacks capable people.

This woman held no shares in News Corporation, so she received none of its assets.

But her two daughters did—they received cash, luxury apartments, and compensation for a Beijing siheyuan.

As for the divorce reason, rumors ran wild, but the most talked-about was that Deng Wendi had an affair with the British Prime Minister.

Still, that was just gossip; the real reason remained unknown.

Wang Fei and Li Yapeng's divorce still drew public attention; Da Baobei and Boss Yang, along with Xiao Wang, frequently appeared at events, generating unprecedented heat.

Even big names like Liu Jialing had to stand aside as mere background.

The intent to promote them was obvious—why? Simple: Liu Tianxian was too dominant now; they needed a female star to challenge her.

The targeting was unmistakable!

Da Baobei, a Hong Kong star signed with Huayi, with Huang Jiaozhu as her boyfriend, and possessing no shortage of looks—her background and appearance gave her a higher starting point than anyone else.

Looking at Da Baobei's acting career, she never lacked roles—not only did she not lack them, but she collaborated with top-tier names.

Top stars, top directors—her career path was even more dominant than Liu Tianxian's.

She lands roles from Zuoshandiao, Xu Laoguai, and Gao Qunshu—could Liu Tianxian land those? But this woman is unremarkable; she rose to fame through Variety.

Now, with Da Baobei's strong rise, their fans clashed online, hurling cold sarcasm and insults at each other.

The cause was unknown, but they started fighting anyway.

To become famous, fighting is the fastest shortcut—clearly a tactic to ride the trend.

Behind-the-scenes rivalry in this circle is normal; if they don't publicly insult you, it doesn't mean they're not competing—they're all after profit.

Liu Tianxian must respond—not just respond, but endure the full-scale war between Ni Ni, Xia Jie, and Da Mimi's fans, the kind that tears heaven and earth apart.

But Liu Tianxian's mindset had already changed—she was now utterly unruffled.

She didn't interfere or respond when her fans fought others' fans; she simply kept doing her own work, doing her own tasks.

The September issue of Elle World Fashion Magazine featured Liu Tianxian on the cover; this fashion magazine always photographed her with a cold aura.

That kind of cold—full of presence.

Yet when the cover was released, someone pointed out: "Liu Tianxian is acting arrogant."

She was said to have dozens of people protecting her while taking photos, blocking public surveillance cameras, and warning passersby not to take photos with their phones.

It was even claimed that she required a vehicle to reach locations just 30 meters away.

This news briefly trended online, with netizens debating it passionately.

Soon after, the editor-in-chief of Elle magazine issued a rebuttal: "Liu Tianxian is highly professional and very cooperative during our shoots."

She also described the shooting conditions: due to the extreme heat, cicadas and frogs chirped incessantly, the high temperature stifled everyone, yet Liu Tianxian stood quietly in the light and shadow, patiently waiting for the crew to shoot.

On-site crew members also said the location was especially hot, but Liu Tianxian remained extremely cooperative, changing outfits and looks nonstop throughout, working until very late to finish filming.

This wave of rebuttals finally calmed the public outcry.

In fact, having dozens of people around the set during filming is normal—lighting technicians, makeup artists, stylists, photographers, assistants, and so on.

Liu Tianxian herself never responded to the matter; the truth was simply impossible to clarify.

The entertainment industry works this way: a minor thing gets amplified countless times—even if you walk down the street, someone will say your posture is wrong, and no explanation will help.

The reason? She's just too famous.

Fang Hong didn't care about these things; as long as you block someone's interests, conflict never stops, and the worst they'll do is avoid you.

Unless you're powerful enough to make them fear you.

Clearly, Fang Hong wasn't that powerful yet; capital had already begun entering the entertainment industry, and while stars and actors might fear you, capital didn't.

Everyone was already in their own camps.

And what Fang Hong had been doing all along was becoming powerful enough to make others fear him.

That year, another event occurred: the Tboys group officially debuted, just as internet social platforms were rising, and they exploded across Jiangnan with a "black-famous" momentum.

This signaled the birth of the idol fan economy—ranking, data manipulation, and fan support became a new internet-based ecosystem for idol stars, drawing in countless bystanders into the "fan circles"!

This marked that internet thinking would reconstruct the entertainment industry; Alibaba, Baidu, and Tencent began to push into the entertainment sector, and Fang Hong's time was running out.

They were pushing into the entertainment industry, while Fang Hong was doing the opposite—pushing into the internet.

Entertainment was destined to be reconstructed by the internet, and he couldn't stop it; that was the tide of the age. What he had to stop was himself being reconstructed—he would instead reverse the process and reconstruct the internet.

On September 1st, Fang Hong sent an email to Chang'e Technology's senior and mid-level leadership, titled: "People-Centered: Valuing Your Present Worth and Your Future Worth."

The email's opening clearly stated that Chang'e Technology would never go public and would implement the Partner System, with all company rights belonging entirely to the partners.

Partners would lead the company's development, not only receiving equity shares and having a voice, but also enjoying profit distributions.

The email clearly outlined partners' rights, the profits they would receive, their status, and their spiritual rewards.

In other words, anyone who became a partner would be absolutely above everyone else.

It also stated that anyone could become a partner, with no limit on the number of partners.

Of course, one had to make a major contribution to the company—anyone who contributed to the company could become a partner.

No questions about background or origin—only contribution mattered, because this company was not public, and no amount of money could buy shares.

This greatly motivated all of Chang'e Technology's management.

In other words, if they made contributions, they had a chance to become one of the company's owners.

Instantly, they no longer felt like they were working for the Principal—they felt like they were working for themselves.

The email also published the partner list: besides Fang Hong, it was Zhang Lidong, whose position was greatly elevated.

Of course, the clause stating that anyone holding over 50% equity would be removed was not included.

This clause was left out for now—it made people feel too insecure—and it was meant to be a hidden clause anyway; equal shares and equal rights were fine.

And this 51% equity had to be hidden—not under his name—because if he ever ran into trouble, it would be his final anchor stone.

(End of Chapter)