Hou Guifen was not a ruthless person—her younger brother was.

The track and field athletes didn’t quite fit the bill; their physiques didn’t meet the “Creative Ability” requirements. The sprinters, on the other hand, were perfect, but unfortunately, Chen Pi had no way of reaching them.

Still, he took some photos and jotted down the names of their schools in his little notebook.

Scouting for new stars among the masses like this was a troublesome task, far less efficient than simply hosting a competition and sifting through the candidates. If only he had the funds.

Chen Pi planned to assemble a “talent scout” team in a few days, mainly consisting of those with their own resources. Since “New Yuhua Culture” had suddenly collapsed due to some office scandal, quite a few people had jumped ship. With “New Yuhua Culture” unable to recover for months, the remaining old employees were already looking for new opportunities.

Many were trying to eke out a living in Lin’an and Huating. Those with formal training didn’t mind as much—if they lost in the social arena, they could always call in favors from their alma mater. Only the self-taught mavericks would try their luck locally in Jianye.

Over the past two days, Chen Pi received a pile of résumés—all applicants hoping to become agents at “Creative Ability.”

As for the reason…

It was all Lord Li’s fault!

The new path Lord Li had blazed was nothing short of a golden road. Merchandise was selling like crazy—something Jianye’s lackluster entertainment industry had never seen before. At least in Sanjiang Province, Li Jie’s “Red of Strength” on screen was a phenomenon.

Everyone who joined “Creative Ability” was hoping to bring forth a “Gourd Hero” of their own. It was obvious to all that “Masked Gourd Hero” would certainly get a sequel. If the pacing was kept right, one film a year could keep on giving.

Each film would be a goldmine—after all, new batches of little kids and older children would emerge every year.

As Lord Li’s agent, Chen Pi naturally had to keep a tight gate. As the saying goes, “The doorkeeper of the Prime Minister’s residence is a seventh-rank official”—and his position was much higher than that.

“This one’s… too handsome. No.”

“Oh, this one’s pretty good—married? Nope.”

Seeing a married man irritated him. After all his years as a hopeless romantic, he’d never managed to tie the knot and was still single. He just couldn’t stand the sight of such blissful happiness.

But then again, married men were easier to control. Chen Pi’s heart was torn between envy and loyalty.

In the end, loyalty won.

“Better stick with the married ones,” he sighed, and set those résumés aside.

“Creative Ability” didn’t need overly ambitious agents—right now, with the momentum of “Gourd Hero,” even a dog could become a screen hero.

After a final sweep through his phone, only two candidates truly fit the company’s needs.

First, both were married. Second, both had children. In a couple of years, when they needed to switch to affordable or school district housing for their kids, wouldn’t the company have them in the palm of its hand?

Tell them to bark like a dog and they wouldn’t dare to meow.

Nice!

Chen Pi felt that being single was actually his greatest advantage.

No weaknesses.

In a few years, when he reached forty and became an old bachelor, he’d be completely invulnerable… It was good to be single.

Still, remembering how well Lord Li treated him, he felt he ought to settle down soon to put the boss at ease.

Thinking of marriage brought to mind his thirty-year-old “goddess.” Who would have thought she cared enough to check in on him?

But could she BJ? If not, she’d have to practice.

However, he wouldn’t consider the “goddess” as his marriage candidate. He’d ask Lord Li’s “Twelve Aunties” to set up a blind date instead.

“These two will do.”

Chen Pi gathered the two résumés and, with a tap of his finger, sent them to Li Jie.

Meanwhile, Boss Li was on the phone with a friend in Luzhou—though “friend” was more accurately “relative.”

“Aunt Hou”—Hou Guifen—wasn’t a tough character. She was merely the typist at “Little Red Star,” usually just preparing reports and handing out flyers. She’d never get involved in trouble.

But Hou Guifen’s younger brother was an old hothead. Back during the city council’s welfare home mergers in Pingjiang, protests had broken out. During one confrontation, Hou Guifen’s brother leapt forward and was sentenced to three and a half years.

That matter ended there, and then came the story of Li Jie’s “uncle” Hou Taiji, who wandered after his release.

It was a farce, really. Hou Taiji was already thirty-nine when he made that bold move. He was released, with his sentence reduced a little, but not by much. He divorced at forty-two; the child stayed with the mother.

Li Jie was still underage at the time, so even if he’d wanted to set his uncle up with a small grocery store, it would have been inconvenient, especially with so many NGOs watching over “Little Red Star.”

Hou Taiji, however, had grit. He took twenty thousand yuan and headed to Huairight to make his way in the world. Now he’d reached a knowing age—not wealthy, but doing all right. He contracted the garbage transport for two villages on the outskirts of Luzhou, earning about 180,000 a year in hard cash, plus another 20,000 or 30,000 from recycling.

He could have earned more, but he let his men take the lion’s share, so he didn’t profit much from recycling.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love money—he simply knew that, as an outsider, surviving required wisdom.

“Uncle, when are you coming back to Pingjiang?”

“Never.”

In the sanitation circles of Luzhou, Hou Taiji was nicknamed “Monkey Rush” or “Old Monkey.” He was still quick-tempered, but no longer the first to charge ahead.

“Then come to Jianye and help me out. I’m a big shot now, made millions. Come guard my gate—all the garbage within ten miles is yours!”

“…”

Chatting with this “nephew” was always amusing. In reality, among all his “uncles,” only half kept in touch with Li Jie.

The rest had their own lives and weren’t so close.

Hou Taiji had served time for “Red Star.” As the boss of the “Red Star” association, Li Jie would never neglect his own. He’d already decided: in the future, the whole Dragon District logistics park area would be Hou Taiji’s turf.

Every piece of garbage—even a used tissue blown onto the street behind the dorm—would belong to Hou Taiji!

“Why are you calling? Your aunt said you came to Luzhou and didn’t look me up.”

“I was attending a friend’s funeral. Why would I look for you?”

“….”

Hou Taiji could feel his blood pressure rising.

“Heh, Uncle, are you familiar with the Kaihuang Hot Springs Resort Hotel?”

“I know someone who does the cleaning there. Why, you want to buy Kaihuang Group, renovate the hot spring hotel, and let your garbage-collecting uncle live there?”

“That’s a possibility.”

“Cut the crap. What do you want?”

“Help me find out which room the chairman of Daye Films is staying in.”

“…”

Hou Taiji felt his face flush. He knew he never should have let this kid grow up. Even as a child, he was always up to something—now, as a big shot, he was probably on the road to ruin.

Not that it mattered—he was intimately familiar with prison life. If his nephew ended up inside one day, he’d be able to teach him survival skills.

“I’ll call or text you tomorrow.”

“That quick?”

“Of course. I know nearly all the older cleaning ladies around here.”

“Any suitable aunties for a late romance? I’m open to companionship, but not dating or marriage. I make two hundred thousand a year—still a boss, you know.”

“Boss Hou, you’re awesome. Take care, and come to Jianye soon. Goodbye.”

“…”

Beep…

Li Jie hung up faster than a dog, leaving Hou Taiji speechless. Still, since his “nephew” rarely asked for favors, he quickly opened his little phone book, searching for which coworker was on cleaning duty at the Kaihuang Hot Springs Resort tonight.