Failed, I'll Go Back and Inherit the Family Business

Chapter 34: Fail and Go Home to Inherit the Family Business

Jiang Hao looked helpless. "No choice. I'm broke now, flat broke and homeless. I'll probably have to sleep on the street tonight. Pretty lady, could you lend me a little cash to get a hotel room?"

A few thousand dollars—she couldn't bear to part with that. Her monthly salary was barely over six thousand.

Zhen Xiaoqiu hesitated, then said, "How about you crash at my place for the night?"

"Sure."

Jiang Hao agreed without a second thought.

Seeing him accept so quickly, Zhen Xiaoqiu suddenly felt a pang of regret. Was she practically inviting a wolf into her home?

"Let me make this clear—don't get any ideas. I'm only doing this because I pity you, and for the sake of the new show. If this program doesn't work out, hmph, I'll kick you out on the spot, got it?" Zhen Xiaoqiu huffed.

"Also, my place isn't big. There's only one bedroom, so you're sleeping on the couch," she added.

"OK, no problem."

The two arrived at Zhen Xiaoqiu's home—a fairly new apartment building. The unit was about three or four hundred square feet, decently decorated. Hong Kong homes were generally cramped; three or four hundred square feet could house a whole family. Living alone, it seemed this girl was doing all right.

Jiang Hao looked around. "Not bad here."

Zhen Xiaoqiu pointed at the couch. "You sleep there. I'm warning you—don't get any funny ideas. If you try sneaking in at night..."

She grabbed a baseball bat from the side, swung it a couple of times, and snarled, "I can be pretty fierce."

Fierce? Like a dragon's roar?

"Relax, pretty lady. I'm not into glasses girls," Jiang Hao said.

"Hmph!"

Zhen Xiaoqiu snorted indignantly, turned, and went into her room. The door slammed shut with a bang, followed by the click of the lock.

Jiang Hao shook his head with a smile.

Seemed like this female reporter was actually quite cute and naive—she'd really brought him home. Lying on the couch, he started thinking about his own situation.

Stephen Chow's current predicament was dire. His company was bankrupt, his reputation ruined. There was basically no chance of turning things around. Aside from mediocre cooking skills, he had nothing.

Now that Jiang Hao was in his shoes, even with knowledge twenty years ahead of this era, rising quickly would still be very difficult.

It was while that silly girl reporter was chasing him that the idea suddenly struck.

Make a show!

In his own time, all kinds of programs were everywhere. He could use the "God of Cookery" title to grab attention. A tarnished reputation wasn't necessarily a disadvantage. In modern society, all sorts of self-deprecating acts were common—they still found an audience. The key was having buzz.

The next morning, the glasses girl quietly cracked open her door and peeked out. The couch was empty.

"Huh? Where'd he go? Did he leave?"

Zhen Xiaoqiu ruffled her slightly messy hair, shuffled out in her slippers and pajamas, took a shower in the bathroom, and had just changed clothes when the doorbell rang.

She opened the door to find Jiang Hao.

"Hey, where'd you go?" she asked.

Jiang Hao lifted the bag in his hand. "I went to get breakfast—rice porridge, char siu bao, siu mai."

At the living room table, the two ate breakfast. Zhen Xiaoqiu couldn't help sneaking glances at Jiang Hao. Now, he didn't seem so annoying.

After breakfast, Zhen Xiaoqiu grabbed her bag and was about to head out. Half a step out the door, she stopped and said to Jiang Hao:

"Hey, you wait here. I'm going to the TV station to ask my boss's opinion. But I'm warning you—don't touch anything, got it? And don't go into my room, especially don't touch my underwear."

"I'm not a pervert," Jiang Hao shrugged.

"Hmph, who knows? If the show works out, that's your luck. If it doesn't, you'll be sleeping on the street tonight." With a bang, Zhen Xiaoqiu shut the door and left.

Zhen Xiaoqiu arrived at ATV. She didn't go to her direct supervisor—she was a news department reporter, and talking to him wouldn't help. Gourmet Roast was a variety show, so she went straight to the deputy director's office.

"Knock, knock, knock!"

"Come in." A low male voice sounded.

Zhen Xiaoqiu pushed the door open. At the main desk sat a slightly chubby man in his forties, wearing glasses, reading documents with his head down.

"Vice Director Liu, there's something I'd like to report to you," Zhen Xiaoqiu said, standing before the desk.

Vice Director Liu looked up at her, then lowered his head again. "What is it?"

"I've come up with a variety show—a food variety show. It's sure to be a hit. I want to produce it," Zhen Xiaoqiu said excitedly.

Without lifting his head, Vice Director Liu said, "Food variety shows? We already have those. They air in the worst time slots as filler. What makes you so confident yours will be a hit?"

Zhen Xiaoqiu stepped forward two paces. "You don't know who I've found—the God of Cookery, Stephen Chow. I want to do a food roast variety show, hosted by Stephen Chow. The former God of Cookery dishing out savage critiques, going head-to-head with head chefs from big restaurants—pure entertainment. The dishes filmed beautifully, visually appealing. And Stephen Chow just went bankrupt, knocked off his pedestal—that's buzz."

"Visual appeal, entertainment, buzz—all three are there. This show is bound to be a hit."

Vice Director Liu finally looked up at Zhen Xiaoqiu. "Stephen Chow? The God of Cookery whose restaurant was shut down for using substandard beef? His reputation is pretty bad right now."

"Buzz—as long as there's buzz, it draws viewers. That's one of the key success factors for a hit show," Zhen Xiaoqiu said excitedly.

Vice Director Liu glanced at her and poured cold water directly. "A food roast show might not be a hit. Besides, roasting all those big restaurants—they'll hate our station. A show like that, better not to do it at all."

"Alright, go back to your work and focus." Vice Director Liu waved his hand.

Zhen Xiaoqiu glared at Vice Director Liu, her face puffing up like a steamed bun.

"Uncle~~"

Vice Director Liu took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead. Whenever Xiaoqiu called him "uncle," he became completely helpless.

"Xiaoqiu, it's not that I don't want to help you. Your mother has told me several times already—she wants you to go help out at the family company. But you just insist on messing around at the TV Station. Isn't it better to take over the family business? You're their only daughter. All those enterprises will be yours sooner or later. You need to start getting involved early." Vice Director Liu spoke with earnest concern.

"I don't like the construction industry at all—spending all day swallowing dust on a worksite. I studied media. I love this field." Zhen Xiaoqiu pouted.

"Uncle, I promise this show will be a hit. Just trust me, okay?" She walked over to Vice Director Liu, grabbed his arm, and started shaking it.

Vice Director Liu had no choice. "Alright, alright, stop shaking. You're going to rattle me apart. I'll give you one chance. But there's a condition. If this fails, you'll go straight to work at the family company and stop thinking about making TV shows. Deal?"

"Uncle, how can you do this?" The bespectacled girl fumed.