Chapter 528: Why Had She Suddenly Become So Distant?

Chapter 528: Why Had She Suddenly Become So Distant?

“Dad, we made an agreement years ago. I focus on my music, and you stay out of my company’s affairs.” An Menglan tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, turning her back to walk toward her executive desk.

Watching his daughter’s retreating figure, An Huaiguo took a measured sip of tea before speaking: “Lanlan, you’ve never been very good at lying, you know that? Besides, how does this merely concern music? How is it just a routine company matter?”

Even if An Menglan had transferred forty-nine percent of the equity and retained fifty-one percent for herself, An Huaiguo would not have pressed her like this.

At most, he would have had his people quietly look into the background.

At the very least, the company would still belong to her.

Diluting equity to leverage greater resources and build strategic alliances was simply how business worked; if a company wanted to expand, that was the path it had to take. It was precisely why no corporate giant ever had an individual holding an overwhelming, monolithic stake.

Yet Menghua Music was flourishing, and An Menglan had suddenly surrendered fifty percent of its equity. That was dangerous, reckless, and utterly anomalous.

An Huaiguo knew his daughter.

He knew she would never do such a thing unless driven by an extraordinary, irregular reason.

And that reason might not be benign.

It was not that he lacked trust in his daughter, but when things deviated so wildly from the norm, something was bound to be amiss. An Huaiguo could not help his suspicions; he even suspected his daughter might have fallen prey to a swindler!

Otherwise, she would never have pulled such a stunt! An Huaiguo had always taken immense pride in her talent; within Xiangjiang’s elite social circles, An Menglan had carved out her own reputation through sheer artistic brilliance, never once overshadowed by the family’s towering pedigree.

That much was beyond dispute.

Yet no matter how brilliant she was, she was still young, only in her twenties.

Moreover, she had poured so much of herself into music that her social sphere was actually quite narrow. Compared to ordinary people, she might possess a broader worldview and have witnessed far more of the globe’s splendor, but precisely because of that sheltered existence, her grasp of the world’s darker underbelly might be inferior to that of an average person on the street.

The An family had simply sheltered her too well.

The greatest setback she had ever faced in her life was likely the recent leak of her unreleased tracks.

If she had genuinely been swindled this time, An Huaiguo could understand how it had happened.

Come to think of it… the money itself was inconsequential.

Equity worth one or two billion yuan might represent an astronomical fortune to ordinary folk, but to a Xiangjiang oligarch like An Huaiguo, it was pocket change. His assets operated on the scale of hundreds of billions.

What he could never swallow was the thought of his daughter being played for a fool.

“Lanlan, I’m not trying to micromanage your life.” An Huaiguo watched his daughter step behind her desk, his expression stern yet his voice laced with unmistakable paternal concern. “But this is no minor detail. This is the life’s work you’ve dedicated yourself to all these years. I’m worried about you. Now that I’m asking you face-to-face, can’t you at least tell me what happened?”

A brief silence descended upon the office.

An Menglan sat down behind her desk, glanced at the watch on her wrist, and chose her words with painstaking care. “Dad, this is complicated. It’s not something I can sum up in a sentence or two. To put it simply… Zhuang Xiaodie and I are practically sisters now. She’s a wonderful girl with a great personality…”

“Is she exceptionally talented?” An Huaiguo ventured an immediate guess. “Do you think she has the potential to become the next An Menglan? Is that why you parted with your shares, just to tie her to your company?”

He knew his daughter prized raw talent above all else.

She had crowned herself a sovereign of the music industry at a tender age, and she had spared no effort in scouting and cultivating promising newcomers over the years.

It was only natural for An Huaiguo to assume Zhuang Xiaodie was some kind of musical prodigy.

Yet the moment the words left his mouth, he felt the logic falter.

Appreciating talent was fine! But even if you cherished someone’s brilliance to your very bones, you didn’t hand over fifty percent of your company! That was wildly excessive!

There were countless ways to retain elite talent.

Granting equity was merely one of them!

In reality, equity rarely carried the immediate, visceral punch of cold, hard cash!

No matter what kind of prodigy you were, how much money could you possibly have seen at such a tender age? If someone slapped a hundred million yuan in cold cash right in front of you, tossed down a contract, and said the money was yours the moment you signed—would you sign it or not?!

An Huaiguo could bet everything that as long as the contract wasn’t some draconian performance-based bet or loaded with absurdly predatory terms, every single prodigy out of a hundred would sign on the dotted line!

“Zhuang Xiaodie and I… we do have certain business collaborations. She holds shares in other entertainment firms as well. Down the line, when…” An Menglan spoke agonizingly slowly, leafing through the files on her desk with an air of casual indifference, as if offering bare-minimum platitudes while leaving the rest for him to deduce.

What else could she possibly say? She could hardly blurt out that her collaboration with Zhuang Xiaodie had progressed to the point where they were sharing the exact same man!

In truth, An Menglan was in a state of absolute inner panic.

The casual composure was entirely a facade.

It was not that she wanted to brush him off; she genuinely had no earthly idea how to explain this mess to her father, and she was terrified of letting something slip. Most critically, she was terrified of sabotaging Wu Chen’s overarching game plan.

As of right now, her father knew nothing of Wu Chen the man—he only knew of the persona “Morning Mist.”

Yet Morning Mist was merely a newly discovered musical genius. Though romantic rumors had swirled between him and An Menglan—some rather unsavory—there was zero background information attached to Morning Mist himself. No one knew his true identity, and no one knew his official, recognized girlfriend was Li Ruobing, the eldest granddaughter of the Li family’s primary branch. As such, that explosive conflict had not yet detonated.

Today, Wu Chen would officially reveal himself to An Huaiguo and commence negotiations head-on.

He would not hide the truth regarding Li Ruobing either.

And then there was Zhuang Xiaodie. Her father had already brought her up, and fifty percent of Menghua Music’s equity currently sat under her name. If her father pressed Wu Chen on the matter, Wu Chen would undoubtedly lay it all out.

He would lay everything bare.

An Menglan could already picture the volcanic, apoplectic rage her father would descend into.

She could not begin to imagine how Wu Chen could possibly bring her father around. In her mind, it was virtually impossible! Utterly inconceivable by any metric! Even if she threw a tantrum and made a scene with her father, it would achieve nothing! Because this was not merely about An Menglan humbling herself to accept the status of a secondary woman—it struck at the very pride, honor, and reputation of the An family, a premier Xiangjiang dynasty.

If word ever leaked that the eldest daughter of the illustrious An clan had willingly become a man’s concubine…

God only knew what venomous, humiliating headlines the Xiangjiang gossip rags would concoct!

The mocking laughter from the other elite families of Xiangjiang would be deafening.

Every prominent dynasty held its reputation sacred.

The great families of Xiangjiang boasted even deeper lineages; their mindsets were, in many ways, far more traditional and conservative, obsessed with face and terrified of public ridicule.

And An Menglan was already assuming the most generous possible scenario.

Even if Wu Chen performed yet another miraculous feat and resolved every other logistical hurdle, there remained that final, insurmountable wall… How could he ever convince her father to swallow his pride? An Menglan could not see a single ray of possibility!

Put bluntly, how could he force her father to throw his dignity into the dirt at his age? How could that ever happen?

Because An Menglan knew with terrifying clarity just how monstrous the challenge Wu Chen faced today was, she was an absolute bundle of nerves.

She was terrified that a single misplaced word might complicate Wu Chen’s upcoming confrontation with her father.

Consequently, she had retreated into extreme caution—weighing every syllable, being evasive, and keeping things as vague as humanly possible.

It would be best if she didn’t have to speak at all.

She almost wished she could duct-tape her own mouth shut.

At An Huaiguo’s age, having weathered every storm under the sun, he read his daughter’s body language and realized the situation was far graver than he had anticipated. Otherwise, she would never be stalling and dodging like this.

He did not suspect she was deliberately playing for time until Wu Chen arrived; he simply assumed she was refusing to confide in him.

“Lanlan, surely you can tell me what’s going on with Peng Wei, can’t you?” An Huaiguo did not push too hard. He was a master negotiator, well versed in the subtle art of coaxing people to speak. “I came all this way. You can’t just stonewall me and keep everything hidden. If you behave like this… how do you expect me to rest easy?”

“As for Peng Wei, he’s already on his way to the office,” An Menglan replied. She glanced up at her father, then promptly dropped her gaze back to the folder on her desk, pretending to be utterly buried in work. “You can speak to him about his situation face-to-face. Whether I tell you now won’t make much difference.”

An Huaiguo finally saw it clearly.

His daughter truly had no intention of telling him a single thing.

The bond between father and daughter had always been warm and close.

Why had she suddenly become so cold and distant?

An Huaiguo picked up his cup and quietly took another sip of tea.

He turned the dynamics over in his mind, and gradually, a realization dawned on him: his daughter hadn’t grown estranged from him at all. Rather, the underlying trouble was far more severe, far more massive, than he had dared to imagine!

An Menglan was still young, after all.

No matter how sharp or gifted she was, it was far too easy for her to betray her anxiety and have her thoughts laid bare before An Huaiguo.

He was, after all, the father who had watched her grow from infancy.

And a ruthless patriarch commanding an imperial realm of wealth!

“Lanlan…” An Huaiguo set down his cup and spoke once more.

Yet this time, before he could say another word, An Menglan cut him off: “Dad, just make yourself comfortable for a moment. I need to…” She gestured toward the private lounge adjoining her office, which doubled as a dressing room.

Without explaining what she intended to do, she merely offered a quick gesture and strode toward the door, the sharp click of her heels ringing against the floor.

An Huaiguo understood.

It was already noon. If they were heading out for lunch shortly, An Menglan would naturally need to change outfits, touch up her makeup, or swap her accessories—she had to freshen up.

She was both a corporate executive and a megastar. Whenever she stepped outside, she had to maintain a flawless appearance at all times, for there was no telling where a paparazzi lens might be lurking by the roadside.

An Huaiguo watched his daughter slip into the private lounge, followed by the soft click of the door closing from within.

“Sigh!” An Huaiguo let out a heavy, troubled breath, his brow furrowing as his thoughts churned anew.

He could tell that her sudden urge to change was just another tactic to evade him—she simply wanted to duck out of the conversation for the time being.

What baffled An Huaiguo was: what did she hope to achieve with this stubborn refusal to communicate, even physically fleeing the room?

You can hide right now, but how will you hide when we go out for lunch?

How will you hide this afternoon?

Whatever this mess is, aren’t you going to have to spit it out sooner or later?!

An Huaiguo remained completely unaware that his daughter was simply stalling for time.

In truth, An Menglan knew full well that abruptly disappearing to change clothes was glaringly suspicious. But she couldn’t care less about that now. Her father letting his imagination run wild was inevitable; the absolute priority was ensuring she didn’t blurt out something foolish, misspeak, and inadvertently raise the difficulty for Wu Chen. As long as she didn’t sabotage him, nothing else mattered.

A few minutes later.

Inside the small lounge, before the vanity mirror.

An Menglan had genuinely begun redoing her makeup. She had taken off her diamond earrings and necklace, and had even wiped away the understated, elegant corporate makeup she wore as a CEO. She was now selecting fresh jewelry and reapplying her cosmetics from scratch.

She had time to kill anyway.

Besides, it was already midday; she would have had to do this regardless.

Compared to a typical workday, she had merely wrapped up her duties half an hour earlier to start her pre-outing routine ahead of schedule.

Meanwhile, back in the executive office.

An Huaiguo reached for his teacup once more. Just then—

Creak.

The heavy double doors of the president’s office swung open, and a figure dressed in a suit stepped inside. The young man was relatively tall and lean without being towering; his features were handsome enough, though far from breathtakingly so. At first glance, the overall impression he gave could be summed up in a single word: comfortable.

Moreover, he was remarkably young, appearing to be no older than twenty-two or twenty-three.

“And you are…?” An Huaiguo asked, his brow furrowing as he scrutinized the intruder.

This was, after all, An Menglan’s private executive suite. The young man hadn’t even bothered to knock, simply pushing the door open and walking straight in. Judging by the high price of his suit and the watch resting on his wrist, An Huaiguo could tell the newcomer had money. Yet no matter how wealthy he was, it was insignificant to An Huaiguo. Wealth or no wealth, one was still expected to observe basic manners.

“Morning Mist,” Wu Chen replied. Seeing that An Menglan was not in the office and An Huaiguo was alone, he introduced himself by his stage name first.