Early in the morning, Jing Yu was awakened by sunlight slanting in through the window.
He was the type who couldn't sleep at all if there was light. Conversely, if the room was dim, he could doze off even in the middle of the day.
Most people would go on a honeymoon after getting married. But Jing Yu, with the company's workload piling up, could only act like a hands-off boss for a week.
Now that it was November, the weather had turned cold and damp. Jing Yu stared at the steady drizzle outside the window and sighed—it really wasn't a day to go out.
"If you don't want to go in, then don't. You're the boss—who's going to dock your pay?" said Yu Youqing, curled up under the blanket, watching him fret over the rain.
"I can't do that. Even though we've got talent at the company, most are execution-focused. If I'm away too long, it'll affect their progress," Jing Yu sighed and started getting dressed.
"Hmph," Yu Youqing looked at him and said,
"You've already reached the peak of the entertainment industry. Honestly, if I were you, I'd hand the company over to a professional manager and go travel the world."
"That is my fun," Jing Yu smiled back.
"You mean creating is your fun?" After marrying him, Yu Youqing had no problem asking things that might've felt too sensitive before.
"But you don't look happy when you're locked in your office writing scripts or drawing concept art. You seem stressed, just wanting to finish things quickly and hand them off."
"It's not the creation I love—it's spreading the work to the world," Jing Yu replied.
"When something great only exists in my mind, I feel a sense of guilt."
"I really can't figure you out. Even after all these years, you're still a mystery to me." With that, Yu Youqing sighed and got out of bed.
Jing Yu had wanted to sneak a peek, but she kicked him out without mercy. They were married, sure, but there were still boundaries—everyone deserved their own space.
Soon, she emerged from the room fully dressed—long skirt, sheer tights, elegant as always.
"I swear… don't you women get cold?" Jing Yu muttered.
"This weather, and you're not even wearing pants?"
"You get used to it."
"You can just rest at home, you know."
"That won't do," Yu Youqing smiled.
"Now that I'm your wife, I'm also the boss's wife. I need to head to the office and enjoy the flattery from employees. I want to see what it's like being worshiped like you are."
"Trust me, it's boring." Jing Yu chuckled and helped her with her coat. Together, they took the elevator down to the villa's underground garage.
Jing Yu drove while Yu Youqing sat in the passenger seat, browsing news about Bluestar Films on her phone. Less than ten minutes later, they arrived at headquarters.
This time, things were noticeably different. As they walked in, employees not only bowed and greeted "Good morning, Boss," but also smiled brightly at Yu Youqing with a cheerful "Good morning, Madam Boss."
Once in the office, Jing Yu immediately called all department heads to a meeting. Within 20 minutes, everyone had gathered in the conference room.
Both Cheng Lie and Xia Yining showed up—it was their first time seeing the couple since the wedding.
The other department heads were clearly more reserved than usual—no one wanted to make a mistake that might set off the newlywed boss.
But soon enough, the atmosphere relaxed.
Before his wedding, Jing Yu had drafted plans for over a dozen new projects. Due to wedding prep, none had been signed off on—so no teams had officially been formed or funded.
Now, Jing Yu quickly flipped through the proposals and signed off without hesitation.
Despite being used to his decision-making style, watching him casually sign off on investments in the nine-figure range still made everyone's heart race. Jing Yu's aura was next level.
As of November, the game and film departments didn't have any major new releases. Only the drama department was in full swing.
The two scripts Jing Yu had handed off earlier—'Naoki Hanzawa' and 'DeathNote'—were both nearly finished.
'Naoki Hanzawa' was a modern-day corporate drama, so post-production was simple.
If they wanted, it could air as soon as next week.
'DeathNote' was similar. The plot was mostly mind games. The largest set piece was just a street chase between a side character and some police, barely difficult to film.
The only challenge had been casting—especially for leads resembling L and Light from the original. But with Bluestar's status, they could get whomever they wanted.
Only minor VFX work remained—like rendering the Shinigami.
Because of that, 'Naoki Hanzawa' was scheduled for the Spring Festival, while 'DeathNote' would air in summer.
For the fall season, the live-action adaptation of 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' Season 1 was confirmed.
And in winter, the live-action 'Pokémon' Season 1 was also locked in.
Though the production teams hadn't assembled yet, VFX contracts were already signed. Modeling work had started.
So in today's meeting, the drama department led the charge.
After hammering out promotional plans for all shows, the two-hour meeting adjourned.
"So? How does it feel being 'Madam Boss' at a meeting?" Jing Yu exhaled deeply and looked at Yu Youqing.
"...Exhausting," she replied.
"Before, I just listened to you talk in meetings. Now that I have a stake in the company, I actually feel responsible. My brain hurts."
Their first workday post-honeymoon came with a bit of sluggishness. But by the end of the morning, they were both back in the groove.
Within days, Bluestar Media & Films was back to full speed—launching the promotional campaign for 'Naoki Hanzawa', their Spring Festival drama.
Fans across Great Zhou had been waiting a whole year for Jing Yu's new work.
He'd spent the entire past year focused on games, with no new TV projects.
So the moment the 'Naoki Hanzawa' trailer dropped in November, drama fans lost it.
Jing Yu personally thought the show had incredible pacing—every episode had its own arc, every arc fed into the next, building toward a climactic finish.
When he first watched it in his previous life, he binged the entire series without ever getting bored.
It was a textbook Japanese drama, filled with regional cultural flavor and nuance.
At first, he worried whether a Japanese-style corporate drama would flop in Great Zhou.
But then he remembered—even in his past life, this drama had tons of Chinese fans.
After the trailer aired, comments flooded in:
"A banker's story?"
"Old Thief really knows his stuff."
"'Lends umbrella on a sunny day, takes it back when it rains.' Perfect metaphor for bankers."
"Is this guy for real?"
"But damn, that Naoki Hanzawa guy sure yells a lot."
"Is the acting over-the-top?"
"Same actor who played Komikado—this is just his style. Honestly, it makes things fun."
"But this setting doesn't really match Great Zhou's banking industry."
"They already said it's a fictional world. Great Zhou doesn't have that weird system where leaving your first job ruins your whole career."
"Right? That whole thing where campus hires are royalty and mid-career hires are treated like dirt—that'd never fly here."
"The classism is insane. Old Thief's world-building gives off heavy alt-Japan vibes."
"Still, once I accepted the setting, that one scene where the protagonist's friend breaks down crying… hit me hard."
"Not sure what happened exactly, but the pressure looked real. Probably layoffs or something."
"Dramas always exaggerate conflict, but this angle is clever. In a society where one career slip ruins your whole resume… yeah, that's terrifying."
"I dunno. Workplace dramas aren't my thing. I'm a middle schooler, and I think this whole society sounds ridiculous."
"Ah, youth! I used to think like you. Before I graduated from college, I told myself I'd make five million by 30.
I'm 31 now. I'm 500K in debt."
"At least someone lent you money. I tried and got told to scram."
"So real it hurts."
Just like all of Jing Yu's past projects, the 'Naoki Hanzawa' trailer dominated trending charts across all platforms.
Dramas weren't a necessity, but for many, they were emotional lifelines.
Even if the industry wasn't as large as high-tech sectors, big IP news still drew public attention—especially Jing Yu's works.
Frankly, Jing Yu could take something as trashy as Earth's 2.9-rated 'Shanghai Fortress' or 2.1-rated 'iPartment', bring them to Great Zhou, star in them, and still pull in:
Over 1 billion at the box office
Over 9% TV ratings
Fans trusted him that much.
Even if some awkward moments appeared—like Jing Yu copying the lead's cutesy tongue-out expression—fans would still give it a shot before switching to hate-mode.
Because that's how much confidence Great Zhou audiences had in Jing Yu.
And now, just one trailer was enough to spark massive hype.
No one even questioned whether 'Naoki Hanzawa' would be the Spring Festival's biggest hit.
Even Jing Yu's haters didn't believe the "Big Six" networks could compete.
The only question left was—just how far will it go?
Time passed.
By December, full promotion for 'Naoki Hanzawa' began.
At the same time, the buzz and sales for 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' and 'Pokémon' had finally started to decline.
As of early December:
'Yu-Gi-Oh!' sold 16 million copies.
'Pokémon' sold 23 million copies.
They might pick up a few million more over the next year, but not much would change.
Even though the year wasn't over, those numbers guaranteed:
'Pokémon' would be #2 in global sales
'Yu-Gi-Oh!' would be #5
Had 'Pokémon' launched three to five months earlier, it might've ranked first.
But Jing Yu didn't care about those charts.
By mid-December, over a dozen projects across games, films, and dramas were fully funded and launched.
It had been more than a month since the wedding, and Jing Yu finally got the company's direction under control.
The most intense period was over.
Now, his staff was busy—and for once, he was the one relaxing.
Scripts, concept documents, and planning files were all handed off to employees.
They were skilled enough now—he didn't need to micromanage.
Back then, every release required his full involvement in promotion, using his popularity to boost exposure.
But not this time.
For 'Naoki Hanzawa', he took a step back, letting the team handle it all.
He wanted Bluestar Media & Films to function independently of his fame.
Finally, January arrived.
January 1st — Episode 1 of 'Naoki Hanzawa' was set to air.
That evening, Jing Yu returned home early. After dinner, he sat in front of the TV, waiting.
"You wrote this show. What's there to be excited about?" Yu Youqing snuggled against his shoulder in her pajamas.
"It's different this time. I didn't micromanage anything," Jing Yu explained.
"I handed the script to the team and let them handle everything—filming, post-production, editing. I haven't even seen the final cut. This is my first time watching it, too."
"And your goal with that is…?" she asked.
"To build a company that can thrive without me," he replied.
"Otherwise…"
Otherwise, even if he worked until he was 80, he'd never finish adapting all the great works from his past life.
Now that Bluestar had solid funding, staff, and size, he could finally consider long-form IPs.
Franchises like 'Slam Dunk', 'Bleach', 'Naruto', 'One Piece', 'Dragon Ball', 'JoJo', 'Fullmetal Alchemist', 'Hunter x Hunter', 'Fist of the North Star'—with heavy VFX and long run-times—were no longer out of reach.
But those would require huge investments, long production cycles, and massive crews.
He'd have to let go of control.
He didn't think about them before because the company was too small, and action series were expensive and exhausting.
But now… if they were to adapt those, Jing Yu had to delegate.
Yu Youqing didn't press him further. She knew she couldn't see the industry the way he did.
Soon, Episode 1 began.
Jing Yu focused on the screen.
The theme song was custom-composed.
Other than the lead actor—who had also played Komikado in a previous hit—Jing Yu hadn't interfered in casting.
Some might think a script is a script, and it shouldn't matter who makes it.
But the truth?
It matters a lot.
Jing Yu had seen it firsthand in his past life—old vs new 'Romance of the Three Kingdoms', old vs new 'Dream of the Red Chamber'—same plot, vastly different vibes.
Even Jin Yong adaptations varied wildly in quality depending on direction and production.
Now, watching the screen:
The story began with Naoki Hanzawa's backstory—his clashes with upper management, getting scapegoated for a massive five-billion loan loss, and facing career destruction.
If he couldn't recover the loss caused by his superior's orders, he'd be fired—and in this society, that meant permanent blacklisting.
The setup was oppressive.
But after a long buildup, Hanzawa snapped back.
"If the headquarters audit department can't take responsibility, why does it exist? Just disband it.
I'll recover that five billion.
But until I do—don't get in my way."
The moment that line dropped, his fierce, reckless expression sent chills down countless viewers' spines.
They thought in unison:
He's back.
Only Jing Yu's dramas can make us feel this fired up.
Even from just Episode 1, it was clear:
This drama would not abuse its protagonist.
Revenge would be swift and satisfying.