Seven years after transmigrating, he was cornered at the head of the bed by a cold and aloof empress

Chapter 146 Investors Withdrawing Funds? Lin Zhou: Then I'll Invest My Own!

The air in the conference room seemed to have frozen into solid ice, so cold that it chilled you to the bone.

Mr. Wang's statement about "withdrawing investment" is like a Damocles' sword hanging over the head of the unborn project, "A Chinese Odyssey".

The surrounding executives were all silent, some drinking water, others pretending to look at their phones; none dared to provoke them at this moment. After all, in this industry, capital is king; without money, even the most talented person can only rot in their stomach.

Su Qingge bit her lower lip hard until she tasted a hint of blood.

She is not reconciled.

I'm really not willing to accept this.

It was clearly a script that could have been made legendary, and it was clearly an opportunity that could shake up the Chinese film industry, but it was going to die in the womb because of the arrogance and prejudice of this group of people.

She held her phone under the table, her fingers trembling as she typed out a message and sent it to the only person she could rely on at that moment.

They want to withdraw their investment, saying the script is garbage.

The screen lit up almost instantly the moment the message was sent.

The reply, though brief and powerful, was like a shot of adrenaline, instantly calming her racing heart.

Hold on. Wait for me for ten minutes.

Su Qingge took a deep breath, raised her head, and a stubborn light rekindled in her peach blossom eyes.

"Mr. Wang, won't you reconsider?"

"You've absolutely underestimated the commercial value of this script. If you're willing to invest, I'm willing to sign a performance-based agreement: if the box office doesn't reach one billion, I won't take a single penny of my salary!"

"One billion?"

Mr. Wang scoffed, as if he had heard something out of the blue, and shook his head repeatedly.

"Miss Su, I think you've been thoroughly brainwashed by that gigolo. This kind of cheesy farce, I'd eat it right here on the table even if it only made a little over a hundred million, let alone a billion!"

"Since you're so stubborn, there's nothing more we can talk about."

As he spoke, he got up to leave, and his henchmen packed up their documents, preparing to bring this farce to an end.

Just then.

"Bang!"

The heavy mahogany door was pushed open from the outside with such force that it slammed against the wall with a dull thud.

Everyone was startled and turned to look at the doorway.

Lin Zhou was dressed casually in a gray hoodie, loose sweatpants, and limited-edition sneakers. He had one hand in his pocket and a half-finished iced Americano in the other, looking as relaxed as if he were strolling in his own backyard.

But his casual attire couldn't conceal the aura that instantly dominated the entire room.

"Wow, it's getting lively here?"

Lin Zhou took a sip of coffee, his gaze sweeping over the astonished faces in the conference room before finally settling on President Wang, who was about to get up.

"I think I heard someone outside the door saying they wanted to eat something on the table?"

"How about adding me to the order? I have a good appetite and I'm not picky about food."

Mr. Wang frowned, his face so gloomy it seemed to drip water.

"Lin Zhou? This is Starry Sky Entertainment's executive conference room. Who let you in?"

"Where are the security guards? What are they doing?!"

"Stop shouting, the security guard is busy helping me park the car."

Lin Zhou casually walked over to Su Qingge, patted her shoulder gently to reassure her. Then, he pulled out a chair next to him, sat down with an air of authority, and sat directly opposite President Wang.

"I just heard that Mr. Wang thinks my script is garbage? And he's going to withdraw his investment?"

"Isn't that right?"

Mr. Wang snorted coldly, his eyes filled with disdain.

"What a cook wrote deserves to be called a script? Lin Zhou, it's only because Su Qingge treats you like a treasure that we consider you. In our eyes, your so-called talent isn't even worthy of being monetized."

"We're withdrawing our investment to cut our losses. What, you have a problem with that?"

Lin Zhou smiled.

It wasn't the bitter smile that comes after being humiliated, but rather a kind of pity as if looking at a fool.

He leaned forward slightly, crossed his hands on the table, and his eyes instantly became sharp as knives.

"I don't have any opinions, but I do feel it's a pity."

"It's a pity that you all have no eyes to see the value of a gold mine and are trying to push it out the door."

"Since you think it's a bad movie, since you're afraid of losing money..."

Lin Zhou paused, looked around the room, and spoke in a low but powerful voice that resonated in everyone's hearts.

"I'll cover all the investment for that movie."

As soon as he finished speaking, a brief silence fell over the conference room.

Immediately afterwards, an even more unrestrained burst of laughter erupted.

Especially President Wang, who was laughing so hard he almost had tears in his eyes. He pointed at Lin Zhou as if watching a clown perform a farce.

"You booked it? Hahahaha!"

"Lin Zhou, do you know how much this movie was budgeted? Two hundred million! Not two hundred dollars!"

"You're a gigolo who's worth less than two thousand yuan a day, living off your wife every day. What kind of bag are you carrying? Your kidney?"

The surrounding executives echoed this sentiment, their words filled with sarcasm.

"Mr. Lin, there's no point in pretending to be a fool at a time like this."

"Exactly, don't end up losing all your savings and having to kneel on a washboard when you get home."

Su Qingge tugged at Lin Zhou's sleeve with some concern. She knew Lin Zhou had earned some money writing songs, but a figure as astronomical as two hundred million was definitely not something he could come up with right now.

"Honey, don't be impulsive, we can think of another way..."

"No need to think of a solution."

Lin Zhou grasped Su Qingge's hand in return and gave her a firm look.

Then he stopped talking nonsense.

Amidst the laughter of the room, he reached into his hoodie pocket and rummaged around for a bit.

The laughter gradually subsided, and everyone wanted to see what this "gigolo" could come up with.

Is it a coin?

Or is it a credit card with insufficient balance?

Under everyone's watchful eyes, Lin Zhou withdrew his hand.

"Snapped!"

He casually tossed a card, entirely black with a fine gold line inlaid around its edge, onto the smooth surface of the conference table.

The card spun and glided, making a crisp, pleasant friction sound, and finally came to a steady stop right under Mr. Wang's nose.

There were no complicated patterns on it, only a relief portrait of an ancient Roman knight and a string of understated yet luxurious gold foil code.

Lin Zhou leaned back in his chair, took another sip of his iced Americano, and spoke in a calm tone as if he were asking what to eat for dinner.

"Let's verify the funds."

"The password is six eights."