Chapter 877: We

"About the Research Center, I talked quite a bit about it with Youyu's grandfather last night over dinner," Xu Rongsheng said to Li Luo, sitting at the dining table.

"He's a member of the Finance Committee, a senior figure with considerable influence within the committee."

"According to the Faculty of Literature's seniority system, the next Dean should naturally go to the other Vice Dean."

"But my age is roughly the same as his; once one of us becomes Dean, the other—even if he waits another five years—will be too old to be suitable."

"I didn't want to compete before, but now that I'm going to make a push, Youyu's grandfather will naturally help me lobby within the committee."

"So if this is just about applying for university-level resources, the issue shouldn't be too big."

"Especially with your student financial aid already approved, and now the merit scholarship following it, the other committee members won't have grounds to object."

"But the most critical part of this matter is whether our Research Center can actually produce tangible results."

"And based on those results, we need to sway the Ministry of Education's leadership to allocate provincial project resources to our Research Center."

"That's the real key."

"After all, my rival has already been immersed in university-level projects for over two years—he's got a significant head start."

"The next Dean election is in 2020, just about two years from now."

At lunch, the men returned to the earlier topic and dove into a detailed, in-depth discussion.

Since there were no outsiders present, Xu Rongsheng opened up fully, revealing many details he had never mentioned before.

After hearing this, Li Luo felt considerably more at ease.

"The Dean election isn't until 2020? That's still a long way off," Li Luo said with a smile. "Two years is plenty of time to accomplish a lot."

"Two years flies by," Xu Rongsheng chuckled. "Look at you kids—you were just met by me three or four years ago."

"But if the goal is simply to produce results, I think we have more than enough time," Li Luo nodded. "It's just the employment issue—something perennially discussed among liberal arts students."

"So where do you think the new path lies?" Xu Rongsheng asked curiously.

"What jobs can liberal arts graduates do these days, in your opinion, Uncle Xu?" Li Luo replied with a counter-question.

"It depends on the major," Xu Rongsheng said. "For majors like law, accounting, or auditing, there are still established career paths."

"Even language majors, compared to others, have relatively better employment prospects."

"But even then, law graduates—though seen by outsiders as having better prospects—still face difficulties passing the bar exam, fierce competition, and scarce positions."

"As for journalism and communication majors, newspapers, TV stations, and publishing houses have gradually declined, with fewer and fewer positions available, unable to absorb so many graduates."

"Not to mention obscure majors like Chinese language and literature, history, or philosophy—after graduation, aside from taking civil service exams, the only option is applying for teaching positions."

"In short, none of them are easy…"

As Vice Dean and professor of the Faculty of Literature, Xu Rongsheng understood the struggles of liberal arts students well.

But now, with university graduates increasing every year, whether liberal arts or science, everyone's having a hard time.

After stating his conclusion, Xu Rongsheng turned to Li Luo: "So what's your idea?"

"Me?" Li Luo thought for a moment, then said, "My idea is actually simple: I hope students can embrace the internet ecosystem as early as possible."

"No matter your major, if you possess the specialized knowledge and skills of that field, you'll always find something on the internet that only your major can do."

"Let me give you a very simple example."

"I know an online novel author who never studied, never paid attention in class, and spent every day thinking only about gaming."

"He loved a game called League of Legends, which has professional players competing and earning big money—so can you guess how he ended up making money?"

Xu Rongsheng paused, then asked, "Did he become a professional player?"

"No," Li Luo shook his head. "But because he knew every classic moment and funny incident from each year's tournaments, and could recite every pro player's biography and gossip effortlessly…"

"He wrote fan fiction about League of Legends—and his income is at least several times higher than his classmates'."

Xu Rongsheng: "... Really? So according to you, attending university doesn't even matter?"

"That's not what I mean," Li Luo laughed. "I'm using this example to express something very simple."

"Everyone has their own unique traits—in the past, these traits might not have been monetizable."

"But in the internet age, everything is possible—the key is whether you have something others don't."

"Even something as criticized by parents as being deeply knowledgeable about a game might become your unique skill to earn a living."

"The key is discovering it—and using it correctly."

"Just like our liberal arts students—do the knowledge we learn every day truly have no use?"

"For example, you mentioned journalism and communication—you said publishing houses and TV stations are declining, and editorial positions are vanishing."

"But what exactly did those positions do?"

"Why are these positions declining with the rise of the internet? Has interest in news and programs disappeared?"

"Of course not—it's just that people's attention has shifted. Naturally, we must shift with them."

"Like the roommate I showed the Ministry of Education leadership, who summarizes and interprets international news on Bilibili."

"Who do you think is better suited for such a position?"

"Often, vanished positions don't disappear entirely—they simply reappear in new forms around us."

After listening to Li Luo, Xu Rongsheng fell into thought—he seemed to have grasped something.

"Hearing you say this, I've gained some clarity on the direction of the Research Center," Xu Rongsheng mused, his mind filling with new ideas, though not yet fully organized. "Let me think about it more when I have time."

After finishing his own topic, Shen Heqi immediately shifted the subject to Li Luo: "How's the film and television adaptation rights negotiation for your novel 'The Great Night Patrol Corps' going?"

"You'll have to ask Chanxi," Li Luo turned to Ying Chanxi with a smile.

"Hmm…" Ying Chanxi was just eating the chicken leg Li Luo had given her; after swallowing a bite, she looked at her father and said, "It's still uncertain—there are signs they're making concessions, but…"

"I'm not sure exactly how much we'll end up getting, so I can't make any guarantees yet."

"Or rather, how much equity stake do you need Li Luo to receive, Dad?"

"The percentage isn't the point," Shen Heqi shook his head. "The board shareholders only care about asset appreciation."

"To them, Huayue Film and Television is just another minor investment channel."

"Previously, 'Little Joy' brought them considerable returns, so they're all eager to invest in any project of Li Luo's."

"By giving up a portion of equity—especially handing it to Li Luo—they actually feel more at ease, since it's equivalent to tying Li Luo to the same boat."

"Once everyone's on the same boat, investing in Li Luo's projects becomes even safer."

After listening, Ying Chanxi nodded in understanding and turned to Ying Zhicheng: "I've heard from Tencent Video that this TV adaptation of 'Great Gan Night Patrol' is their highest-tier internal project."

"The estimated investment budget is said to exceed two hundred million."

"Given the performance of Li Luo's 'Great Gan Night Patrol,' based on Wenxue Group's past patterns, the copyright fee will likely reach fifty million."

"For the original author to secure a share of the investment, the most common method is to convert the copyright value directly into the investment amount."

"Just like Li Luo's 'The Beginning.'"

"But even if we wanted to, Tencent Video would never allow you to convert the full fifty million—so we must compromise within this range to reach a mutually acceptable agreement."

As Ying Chanxi spoke, Li Luo picked up the thread: "No problem. We can lower the copyright price. After all, the initiative is in our hands."

"When we signed the Platinum Contract, it was clearly written in black and white: if we have the ability to negotiate the copyright ourselves, Wenxue Group cannot veto it."

"So how much the copyright ultimately sells for isn't the focus this time—the key is getting our additional conditions met."

Ying Chanxi naturally understood Li Luo's meaning and nodded, assuring him it was fine.

But Ying Zhicheng mistakenly thought Li Luo was making concessions purely for his plan, and his heart grew heavier—he felt he owed this boy more and more.

Yet in reality, beyond investment shares, Li Luo had also had Xi Xi negotiate the TV rights for 'Gu Dao Changqing,' which had nothing to do with Huayue Film and Television at all.

By the time they finished chatting, lunch was also nearly over.

Xu Youyu, fully stuffed, immediately declared he wanted a nap and instinctively headed upstairs.

Fortunately, Ying Chanxi grabbed her in time and whispered something in her ear; Xu Youyu then realized her mistake, hurriedly went downstairs in front of Ying Zhicheng, returned to the neighboring house, and then slipped out onto the rooftop to reach Li Luo's bedroom.

As for Ying Chanxi and Yan Zhusheng, they naturally stayed behind to play mahjong with Lin Xiuhong and Cui Suling.

The men agreed to go fishing together by the lake outside the village, chatting as they fished.

Around four in the afternoon, Ying Zhicheng's phone rang. After speaking for a moment, he hung up and stood up: "Wanqing is back. I'll go pick her up."

"Then let's pack up and head back," Li Guohong said, rising as well. "This place doesn't have a single fish."

"Only you caught nothing—don't blame the lake if your skill's poor," Li Luo chuckled. "I and Uncle Ying each caught one—we can eat until tomorrow night."

"You talk too much," Li Guohong shot him a look, quickly gathered his gear, and walked off.

Ying Zhicheng and Xu Rongsheng laughed as they carried their buckets back, continuing to chat with Li Luo.

"Old Xu's fish is the biggest—let's kill it tonight. Mine and Li Luo's can wait a bit longer."

"Fine," Xu Rongsheng smiled and nodded. "I'll use my fish's head for soup, the body for braised, and the tail for steamed—one fish, three ways."

"Uncle Xu really knows his stuff," Li Luo chuckled. "Isn't your kitchen usually run by Aunt Cui?"

"You don't understand," Xu Rongsheng chuckled. "Great chefs don't cook often—but when it matters, like New Year's Eve dinner, I'm always the one who cooks."

"Really?" Li Luo was surprised. "Then how about you show us tonight?"

"What are you saying?" Li Guohong called back from ahead. "Would you dare ask a guest to cook?"

"Hey, why not?" Xu Rongsheng perked up. "What guest? Old Li, you're being too formal."

"Exactly!" Li Luo retorted. "Dad, whoever didn't catch a fish has no right to speak—just lead the way. We're having a great time."

Li Guohong: "…Don't get too cocky. If you've got guts, come back tomorrow!"

The four men walked along the village dirt road, joking and teasing all the way—any outsider would think they were just ordinary villagers.

Who could guess that one was a professor from Qianjiang University, another the CEO of a film company, and yet another a young, famed Platinum author?

Hmm… and the Platinum author's father.

When they returned to the courtyard, Xu Rongsheng immediately carried his bucket to the second-floor kitchen.

Li Luo also placed his and Ying Zhicheng's fish into a bucket to keep them alive.

Soon after, the sound of a car arrived—clearly Yuan Wanqing had come.

Li Luo followed the others to the balcony and saw Yuan Wanqing step out of the car, with Ying Zhicheng helping her carry her luggage. After returning to the neighboring house to put things away, the two came over to them.

"Our big star's back!" Lin Xiuhong waved cheerfully. "Come on, come on—tonight Old Xu's cooking, so we'll just keep playing mahjong."

"Really?" Yuan Wanqing smiled as she sat down at the mahjong table. "I was planning to surprise you too, but you beat me to it."

"Then you cook tomorrow," Lin Xiuhong laughed without hesitation. "We've got plenty of time before the New Year—let's taste your star-level cooking and see if you've improved."

"It'll still be nowhere near yours two," Yuan Wanqing smiled.

As she sat and picked up the tiles, feeling the lively, joyful atmosphere in the living room, her body and nerves—tense from participating in the Spring Festival Gala—gradually relaxed.

Although Lin Xiuhong called her a "big star," she treated her no differently than any ordinary person.

This made Yuan Wanqing feel deeply comfortable—returning here felt like coming home, easy and joyful, free from all the noise and complications.

If things could always stay like this, it would be perfect.

(End of Chapter)