Chapter 20: You Won't Catch a Wolf Unless You're Willing to Lose a Child (Requesting Monthly Votes)

Qi Hao immediately found himself in a dilemma.

If you say yes, the studio has one position per person, and there aren’t many left.

Gao Yang’s daughter clearly counts as a crooked radish.

Besides, the whole company is made up of men—hiring such a young girl would just be harming her.

But if you say no, how will you ever get along with Yang Ge again?

She doesn’t want your salary or social insurance—she just wants her daughter to gain some work experience.

And judging by Gao Yang’s tone, putting his daughter forward seems meant to serve as a bond between both parties.

It’s a form of cooperative entanglement.

This coal boss has some guts.

You won’t catch a wolf unless you’re willing to lose a child?

“Most of the key positions are already filled; what’s left doesn’t offer much room for growth.”

Qi Hao gently expressed that it wasn’t convenient.

“No problem, no problem—as long as she has a job, she’s got something to do. She stays cooped up at home all day, sleeping until noon…”

“When Gao Fei was in school, she was top of our class.”

Zhang Nan was starting to question life—why would anyone dislike building a career, especially someone with such exceptional talent and academic prowess?

Look at himself—he was average in talent, often ranked near the bottom, naturally terrible at studying and exams.

If he hadn’t been born in the capital and hadn’t pushed himself to the brink, he might not have even made it to university.

He wasn’t driven by necessity—even without a diploma, his family could have arranged everything for him perfectly—but he refused to give in, determined to build a career no matter what.

“Sigh, do you know what I’m most afraid of?” Gao Yang sighed, downing the half-cup of wine left in his glass.

Qi Hao and Zhang Nan shook their heads.

For a coal boss like Gao Yang, his daughter could do absolutely nothing and still live an excellent life.

Honestly, doing nothing might even be better than messing around.

“I’m terrified she’ll one day bring home some guy and say, ‘Dad, this is my boyfriend—Crazy Boy…’”

Gao Yang clearly had nightmares like this—he covered his eyes, and Qi Hao suspected he was crying.

So even coal bosses have weak spots.

“Uncle Gao, she probably can’t even meet Crazy Boy, right?” Zhang Nan tried to comfort him.

“How can she not meet him? She wakes up and plays games—Bubble Pop, Dream Westward Journey—you name it—and chats online with strangers. I’ve heard the names they use; none of them sound respectable.”

Gao Yang reached for the bottle again, but his terrible tolerance had already made him feel unwell.

Zhang Nan quickly poured him more wine.

“Online usernames rarely are respectable…” Qi Hao muttered.

He surfed the internet too—he’d never seen many respectable usernames; even his alternate account was named “Among All the Monkeys on the Mountain, My Ass Is the Reddest.”

In his QQ group, there were others like “Among All the Turtles in the Pond, My Head Is the Greenest,” “Among All the Salted Fish in the Jar, I Have the Most Salt,” “Yogurt-Flavored Toes,” and more—he had no idea what mental state those guys were in.

It was hilarious.

“So I just want her to have a job—so if she’s going to lie around, at least do it somewhere else.”

Gao Yang held Qi Hao in high regard—he knew Qi Hao had seen the world; if he had any ambition to climb the social ladder, rich women would have already crushed him countless times.

If Qi Hao really ended up with his daughter, he’d accept it.

Better than Crazy Boy.

“Alright, our studio’s office isn’t far from here.” What else could Qi Hao say?

He might as well be helping someone raise their child.

“Come on, drink!” Having kept his daughter at least somewhat away from Crazy Boy, the coal boss was in high spirits.

“Yang Ge, take it easy—the day isn’t even over yet.”

Qi Hao worried this guy would pass out and sleep till tomorrow—how could someone with such a pitiful alcohol tolerance even run a bar?

And he was already worth billions—why did he insist on reopening the exact same place at the exact same location?

“Too late—I’ve already had two glasses; I’m definitely going to find a place to sleep soon. Might as well drink a couple more before I pass out.”

Gao Yang, half-dazed, pulled out his phone and called his daughter.

He couldn’t hear what she said, but on his end, he was pleading desperately.

He ended up crying as he talked.

He said how hard he’d worked all these years, how he hadn’t dared to remarry for fear of slighting her, how he’d finally raised her—and now she kept bringing home Crazy Boys…

Then he suddenly stopped crying and laughed—it was clear he’d convinced her.

Or maybe he’d just annoyed her into submission with all the crying.

Having a dad who cries so easily must be tough.

And the coal boss’s acting was genuinely excellent—he seemed drunk and ranting, but every move was calculated.

He sobbed uncontrollably, wiped his face with tissues after hanging up, and immediately resumed chatting and laughing.

Only then, mid-sentence, his head slammed onto the table with a thud, and he slid right under it—this did lower his standing a bit.

But his two bodyguards weren’t surprised at all; each grabbed an arm and dragged him away.

Qi Hao’s studio was officially established on New Year’s Day.

Before that, he’d been busy shooting calendars.

Since they were a “gift” for his fans, Qi Hao put real effort into them.

His fans were almost entirely female.

Their ages spanned a wide range.

To satisfy such a broad spectrum of female fans, he needed distinct styles.

Like slightly younger, slightly more mature.

Also cold and aloof, sexy, cute, lazy…

A thousand people have a thousand Pan Jinlian; a thousand fans should have a thousand Qi Hao.

Every fan should find their emotional home in him.

The shooting process went smoothly.

Though Qi Hao wasn’t praised like Zhou Xun or Zhang Ziyi as if born for the camera, he was at least handsome, and his photos easily won over both young and older girls.

The calendars were printed, and Qi Hao signed each one.

After that, it had nothing to do with him.

The new staff were all in place—even Mr. Zhanqi Laiden had taken his seat.

Surprisingly, he didn’t immediately mock everyone.

I’m not targeting anyone in particular, but all of you in this studio? You’re all garbage.

Qi Hao guessed it had something to do with his six-month probation.

Everyone else had a three-month probation—he got six months, clearly singled out.

Gao Fei had arrived too.

This girl was at least 1.75 meters tall, with outstanding looks and a graceful figure.

Especially her skin—pale as snow.

Her father, Gao Yang, was short and unremarkable—it was hard to imagine he could have such a beautiful daughter.

No wonder Zhang Nan said Gao Fei didn’t look much like her dad.

“Didn’t look much like”?

Zhang Nan was being far too polite.

He might as well have suggested Gao Yang get a DNA test.

Gao Fei had the most personal belongings of any employee—she deliberately chose a corner spot to place her nap bed.

Bringing a bed to work!

Qi Hao stared, dumbfounded.

This was a worker who’d rather die than be a slave.

Look at Zhang Nan!

She treated the company like home—if Old Tian didn’t drag her home to be with her kid, she wouldn’t even want to leave.

But Gao Fei’s family was rich.

Qi Hao, as boss, could only fume silently.

Fortunately, Zhang Nan hadn’t lied—Gao Fei was an academic star in school, and at work, she’d half-asleep still finish her tasks.

The results were quite good.

Qi Hao finally understood Gao Yang.

Such a gifted slave refusing to work hard and shine for her boss? That was pure waste of talent.

As soon as the studio opened, many people sent flower baskets.

Former collaborators like Qin Feng, Gao Yuanyuan, Fan Xuexue, Zhang Guoli and his wife, Liu Ye, Sun Li, Huang Haibing, Sha Yi, Huang Yi, plus directors and screenwriters—every one of them filled the small studio to overflowing.

Huang Yi sent a wealth cat figurine; Gao Yuanyuan gave two money trees in pots; Sun Li sent calligraphy and plaques; Qin Feng added a crystal ornament to his basket…

Wave after wave came, wave after wave left.

Precisely because of this commotion, other tenants in the building now knew about Qi Hao’s studio.

Especially those on the same floor—they kept glancing over this way.

Unfortunately, all the flower baskets were delivered by others.

Qi Hao’s studio clearly stated they do not receive visitors.

But there was one visitor they could not turn away: Gao Fei’s father, Gao Yang.

The coal boss was extremely wealthy.

His arrival came with yet another mountain of gifts.

From food to daily necessities, they filled every corner of the company.

Of course, his main purpose was to see his daughter’s workplace.

As soon as he arrived, he nearly shed tears from pity.

Such a tiny space was packed with nearly ten people!

“Why don’t I rent you the entire floor and connect it all for your office?”

As a rational coal boss, he refrained from saying, “I’ll buy the whole building for you.”

That would be far too ostentatious.

It did not fit his urgent plan to “rise above the vulgar.”

“Please don’t do that—we must grow step by step, like building with blocks. Only by assembling it slowly can you feel true accomplishment, and only then will Gao Fei develop interest in her work. If you hand her a finished setup, she’ll glance at it and go back to sleep.”

Qi Hao quickly stopped this doting father.

Sigh, why don’t I have a father like that?