317: Chapter 297 Gold

The meeting officially began.

First was the explanation of the investment plan for the project "the crab."

Jiang Zhiyu opened the PPT, and a concise, professional page appeared on the projection screen.

"The positioning of 'the crab' is a hardcore crime action film. The target market is not just South Korea; we hope to distribute it across Asia and even globally."

Jiang Zhiyu's voice was steady and powerful. He didn't need to look at notes; he knew every piece of data and every detail by heart. "The budget is 12 billion KRW, with TG Entertainment investing 30%, which is 3.6 billion. For the remaining 70%, we are seeking joint investment, and LOEN is our preferred strategic partner."

He explained the budget breakdown in detail: production costs, special effects, actor salaries, marketing and distribution expenses... Every number had been rigorously calculated.

Next was the return forecast model, which, based on the market performance of similar films and TG Entertainment's own marketing and distribution capabilities, provided return rates for conservative, neutral, and optimistic scenarios.

"In a conservative scenario, the expected return on investment is 18%; in a neutral scenario, it is 35%; if the market response exceeds expectations, it could reach over 50%."

Jiang Zhiyu clicked to the next page, revealing the scorecard of TG Entertainment's past projects—the viewership curve of "destined kim hyo-soon," the online popularity data of "twelve star envoys," the boost in aespa's commercial value from "ae training camp"...

"TG Entertainment's advantage lies in the fact that we don't just produce content; we are also adept at marketing and IP operation. If 'the crab' succeeds, we can subsequently develop series, merchandise, and even games. This is a complete value chain."

His explanation was logically clear and the data solid, demonstrating both ambition and pragmatism.

The LOEN executives listened attentively, nodding from time to time and occasionally exchanging whispers.

Throughout this process, IU sat quietly, her gaze fixed on Jiang Zhiyu.

Her expression looked very focused, as if she were seriously listening to a business proposal. A standard "IU-style" smile hung on the corners of her mouth—pure, sweet, and carrying a hint of naive innocence. That was the appearance she most often showed to the public, flawless and impeccable.

But only she knew what kind of raging storm was currently in her heart.

She watched Jiang Zhiyu standing in front of the projection screen, the light hitting him and outlining his clear silhouette.

He was clearly wearing light makeup today—not to cover flaws, but to look more energetic and professional under the lens and lights. His eyebrows were neatly trimmed, his skin presented a flawless texture due to the foundation, and his lip color was a natural light red.

But this makeup did not cover his inherent qualities; instead, it highlighted that contradictory beauty: the greenness brought by his age versus the aura cultivated by long-term control of power; the handsome silhouette of a youth versus the sharp eyes of a businessman; and that gentle and refined temperament in his bones, like a piece of polished jade—gentle yet not lacking sharp edges.

IU's gaze finally landed on his eyes.

Jiang Zhiyu's eyes were dark brown, like amber, possessing a sense of transparency under the lights. When he focused on explaining, a rational light shimmered within them—calm, restrained, and full of control.

Yet, through this layer of rationality, IU saw something deeper—the anonymous producer from four years ago in the LOEN conference room who was a bit nervous but still insisted on his own philosophy; the cunning opponent in the tea room who had nonchalantly defused her offensive; the perfectionist in the recording studio who had near-paranoid demands for music.

After the last tea room meeting, that dark emotion of "wanting to control him" in her heart now wound around her again like vines, and it was even more surging and scorching.

She wanted to see his calm, composed expression shatter.

She wanted to see his poised demeanor broken.

She wanted to see her own reflection in his amber eyes, and only her.

"Therefore, based on the above analysis, we suggest that LOEN invest 4 billion KRW, accounting for 33.3% of the total project investment, and enjoy a corresponding 33.3% share of the profits."

Jiang Zhiyu finished the main part of the investment proposal and changed the subject, "In addition, to show TG Entertainment's sincerity regarding this cooperation, we are willing to provide some additional strategic cooperation benefits outside of 'the crab' project."

He clicked to the next page, revealing TG Entertainment's development plan for the next two years.

"TG Entertainment will launch a virtual idol project and a VR concert platform next year. If LOEN is willing to become the main investor for 'the crab,' TG Entertainment promises to prioritize deep cooperation with LOEN's artists over the next two years, including but not limited to: customized variety shows, music production, digital image development, etc."

He paused and added, "Of course, these collaborations will be conducted according to market rules, and TG Entertainment will not harm its own interests. But under equal conditions, LOEN will have priority."

This proposal visibly moved the LOEN executives.

TG Entertainment was currently the hottest creative company in the industry; if they could establish a long-term strategic partnership, it would be of immense value to LOEN. Several executives began discussing in low voices, calculating the gains and losses.

Jiang Zhiyu waited quietly, his gaze sweeping across the room and finally landing on IU.

"IU-xi, what do you think?" he asked, his voice gentle but carrying an intensity that could not be avoided.

IU lifted her eyes and met his gaze.

In that instant, she almost couldn't control the curve of her mouth—not that standard "IU-style" smile, but a more real, more dangerous smirk. But she was, after all, IU, one of the women in the entertainment industry who best knew how to control her expressions and emotions.

She nodded, her voice clear and professional: "President Jiang's proposal is very detailed and very sincere. We need to have an internal discussion."

The LOEN director took over, "Yes, we still need to evaluate the funding arrangements and strategic alignment. How about this, President Jiang, shall we end today's meeting here? We will give you an answer as soon as possible."

"Of course," Jiang Zhiyu smiled, "I look forward to your good news."

The executives rose one after another, shaking hands with Jiang Zhiyu to say goodbye. The last one to leave was the head of the investment department; he glanced at IU, gave her a look that said "gauge the boundaries yourself," and then closed the conference room door.

"Click."

The door gently closed.

Only Jiang Zhiyu and IU were left in the conference room.

The air suddenly went quiet. The city noise outside the window became distant; only the slight humming sound of the air conditioning system remained.

Jiang Zhiyu began to organize the documents on the table and put his laptop back into his bag. His movements were methodical, as if the high-intensity business negotiation just now had no impact on him at all.

IU sat where she was, watching him.

Her gaze moved from his fingers to his wrists, and then to his profile. Today, Jiang Zhiyu's suit was dark blue, making his skin look even fairer. The collar was slightly open, revealing a hint of his collarbone line.

Her throat moved.

Then, she stood up.

Her high heels tapped on the carpet, making a slight sound. She walked to Jiang Zhiyu's side, close enough to smell his scent.

Jiang Zhiyu sensed her approach; his movements paused, but he didn't immediately look up.

Then, IU did an unexpected action—she leaned forward slightly, moved closer to the side of Jiang Zhiyu's neck, and took a light sniff.

Jiang Zhiyu's body stiffened, and he turned his head sharply, almost hitting her nose. A clear flash of surprise crossed his eyes, along with a trace of displeasure at being disturbed.

"IU-xi?"

IU, however, acted as if nothing had happened, straightened up, and wore that innocent yet playful smile on her face, her eyes curving into crescents: "President Jiang's perfume smells very good today."

Jiang Zhiyu frowned, his tone still polite but noticeably colder: "I never wear perfume."

"Is that so?" IU tilted her head, an action that made her look like a curious little girl. But deep in her eyes, a glimmer of craftiness shone through, "Then that must be your own scent."

She moved half a step closer, almost pressing against Jiang Zhiyu. Her voice lowered a bit, carrying an intimate, near-whispering volume:

"Like... ripe fruit, sweet enough to make one want to take a bite."

This sentence had far exceeded the boundaries of business partners, carrying naked provocation and suggestion.

Jiang Zhiyu's pupils contracted slightly.

He did not retreat, nor did he dodge; he just looked at IU quietly. His expression remained calm, but something was surging deep in his eyes—was it vigilance? Disgust? Or something else?

IU was also looking at him, waiting for his reaction.

Would he get angry? Would he be embarrassed? Would he panic?

But Jiang Zhiyu did nothing. He just looked at her with those amber eyes for about three seconds, then the corners of his mouth lifted in an extremely faint, almost imperceptible arc.

"IU-xi," his voice was as steady as before, with no emotional fluctuation detectable, "I hope our cooperation goes smoothly."

Having said that, he picked up his briefcase, walked around IU, and headed toward the door.

His pace was unhurried, his back straight, without a trace of panic or embarrassment. It was as if that boundary-crossing remark just now was merely an insignificant breeze that couldn't even ruffle the corner of his clothes.

IU stood where she was, not turning around.

She listened to his footsteps, listened to the sound of the door being opened and closed, listened to him leaving completely.

Then, she slowly, slowly turned around and looked at that tightly closed door.

The smile on her face disappeared.

Replacing it was an extremely cold, extremely dangerous expression. Her eyes were as black as ink, surging within them were uncontrollable possessiveness, frustration, and anger at being ignored.

She walked to the window and looked downstairs. A few minutes later, Jiang Zhiyu's figure appeared at the building entrance. He walked toward the black sedan parked by the roadside, opened the door, and got in—his movements smooth and natural.

The car drove away, merged into the traffic, and disappeared from her field of vision.

IU's hand pressed against the glass, her fingertips turning white from the force.

"Jiang Zhiyu..."

She whispered this name, her voice carrying a near-pathological obsession.

Since the last tea room meeting, that crazy thought of "wanting to hide him away" had not only not disappeared, but instead, like a flame doused with oil, it burned even more fiercely.

She wanted him.

Not just the cooperation, not just the return on investment.

She wanted him—his talent, his ability, his time, his attention, everything about him.

She wanted his amber eyes to reflect only her.

Her face was reflected on the glass; that pure face, hailed as the "Nation's Little Sister," now looked somewhat distorted due to the dark emotions.

Darkening progress: 70%.

And it was still rising.

Outside the window, the sky over Seoul had unknowingly turned overcast, and dark clouds began to gather.

A rainstorm seemed to be coming.