If You've Got What It Takes, Then Compete

Si You had never been forcibly taken before. In his previous life, plenty of people had coveted him, but none had dared.

And his single sentence—"I like them young"—left Zhang Feigu at a loss for words.

The bright lighting left every trace of Zhang Feigu's expression exposed. Si You watched him take a deep breath, a flicker of something like self-mockery flashing through his eyes. His disappointment lasted only an instant. When Zhang Feigu looked up again, his expression had become invulnerable. "Why not give me a try?"

"Mr. Zhang." Si You gave a soft laugh. "There's no need. With your status and position, what kind of person can't you have?"

Zhang Feigu said in a low voice, "What if I told you I'm only interested in you?"

During the meal, Zhang Feigu had already reviewed all the information his assistant had sent him about Si You. An artist who had come out of the mountains, endured exclusion and slander, and struggled so hard to get where he was today—his desire for freedom and wealth was beyond question. So the terms Zhang Feigu offered next were extremely tempting. "Come with me. I'll promote you exclusively—only you. All the best resources will be yours."

Si You tilted his head slightly, a faint smile on his lips.

Zhang Feigu understood how to strike at the heart of the matter. Countless people in the industry wanted to be promoted. If their sponsor was decent, it was manageable; if not, what awaited them could be humiliation hidden from the light, unspeakable mental oppression, even physical harm. The risks were enormous, yet people still rushed one after another toward shortcuts. Si You had seen one brutal ending after another. As he looked at Zhang Feigu now, his eyes were utterly clear.

Zhang Feigu noticed this,