Cannon Fodder Genius Game Producer - Chapter 12

Chapter 12: The 12th Day of a Blockbuster (Part 1)

When Lu You walked into the Director’s office, Li Chuyue was looking at his phone, one hand propping up his chin, smiling very happily.

Lu You rarely saw his Director smile this joyfully. In the past year, Li Chuyue—who had returned from studying abroad—had parachuted into the position of Operations Director of the Li Group and secured his footing at lightning speed.

His sophisticated way of handling affairs made everyone forget that he was only 22 years old.

Usually, when Li Chuyue appeared in the company, he maintained the elite image of being dressed in a suit and leather shoes. However, when Lu You arrived at the Daonan Road apartment this morning to pick him up, he almost failed to recognize Li Chuyue in his casual attire.

“Director, the reservation for two at Songjian Hall later has been confirmed. Considering the traffic, we expect to depart at 5:30.”

Li Chuyue glanced at the time on his phone, stretched his body, and said, “No need to wait until 5:30. Let’s leave now.”

Lu You paused. “It’s only just 5:00?”

Li Chuyue’s expression carried a hint of anticipation amidst his relaxed demeanor. “Go to the Daonan Road apartment first to pick up Xiao Shu.”

Li Chuyue was impatient to see Pei Shu. Although Pei Shu’s livestream had only ended a short while ago in the afternoon, this brief period felt as long as years to him.

Compared to the blissful state of watching Pei Shu’s stream, the moment Pei Shu disconnected, he began to feel anxious and insecure again.

Every second Pei Shu was out of sight, he couldn’t help but worry in his heart—in a corner he couldn’t see, would Xiao Shu disappear again?

Li Chuyue still remembered the day eight years ago when the sudden change occurred in Pei Shu.

It felt as if a corner of his heart had been scooped out. The familiar Pei Shu stood before him, but he knew clearly in his heart—that was not the real Pei Shu.

From the moment he realized he liked Pei Shu, the real Pei Shu vanished from his world.

Li Chuyue still didn’t want to recall that terrible feeling.

All along the way to the Daonan Road apartment, Li Chuyue continued to play with his phone, sending harassing messages to Pei Shu.

Li Chuyue: Xiao Shu, I’m coming to pick you up!

Li Chuyue: Xiao Shu, I miss you so much. Do you miss me?

Li Chuyue: Xiao Shu, I remember you like a dessert shop on Huaiyuan Road. After Songjian Hall, shall we go get dessert??

Pei Shu was likely busy and didn’t reply much, but Li Chuyue happily continued sending messages to himself the whole way. If his subordinates at the company saw this, they wouldn’t believe their eyes.

Inside the Daonan Road apartment, Pei Shu was organizing the establishment plan and budget for his game studio.

He intended to take the opportunity during dinner to talk to “Little Pear” about investing in the studio. While they had a good relationship back then, friendship is friendship, and business is business.

Pei Shu used the spare time to draft a preliminary studio plan and print it out.

Only after finishing the materials did he see the long string of messages from Li Chuyue on WeChat.

Since regaining his senses, he had unpinned the work group for Jixing Studio. Throughout the day, no one besides Li Chuyue had messaged him, to the point that even without pinning the chat, Li Chuyue had achieved the effect of a manual top-pin.

Looking at these messages, Pei Shu felt both amused and touched. The young Li Chuyue used to be teased into silence by him; eight years later, he had turned into such a chatterbox.

Toward this “little friend” who was the only one to remember him after eight years, Pei Shu felt very warm—even if the cute kid in his memory had turned into a “green tea” chatterbox filled with the scent of decadent money.

When the clock struck 5:30, another message popped up in Pei Shu’s WeChat window.

Li Chuyue: Xiao Shu, I’m here!

Pei Shu: …I told you, call me “Brother.”

Pei Shu picked up the prepared studio plan. Just as he opened the door to head downstairs, he saw Li Chuyue leaning against the wall in the hallway of the 18th floor—where there were only two units. Li Chuyue waved his phone at him, wearing a beaming smile.

Pei Shu’s spirit, which had been somewhat tense due to the Jiang Ziye incident in the afternoon, suddenly relaxed at this moment. His peach-blossom eyes crinkled slightly with a smile.

“Didn’t I say I’d wait downstairs?”

Li Chuyue said with a straight face, “Xiao Shu, you don’t know which car is mine. What would you do if you couldn’t find me? Of course, I had to come up to get you.”

Pei Shu glanced at him and smiled. “Fine, ‘good nephew,’ you lead the way then.”

Likely because of being called “good nephew,” the Li Chuyue who kept insisting on calling him “Xiao Shu” finally wilted for a moment.

However, his wilting lasted for less than a minute in total.

Inside the elevator, seeing him look dejected, Pei Shu said jokingly, “I told you, call me ‘Brother.’ If you’re willing to lower yourself a generation for nothing, then pretend I didn’t say anything.”

Li Chuyue wasn’t very willing. He was much younger than Pei Shu. When they first met in his first year of junior high, his parents told him to call Pei Shu “Brother.” But he had plenty of relatives—cousins and so on—with so many “Brothers,” how could he use such a common title for Pei Shu?

Moreover, since realizing he liked Pei Shu, he had worried that Pei Shu wouldn’t view him as a potential partner because he was too young. Continuing to call him “Xiao Shu” might truly not be great.

But calling him “Brother” also didn’t appeal to him. Pei Shu had always been popular with the younger generation, and there was a whole basket of kids who called him “Brother.”

How could he use the same title as those kids?

Thoughts whirled through his mind a dozens of times. By the time they stepped out of the elevator, Li Chuyue’s form of address had changed.

“Peipei, the car is here. Follow me.”

Pei Shu froze for a second. This was the first time someone had called him that. In fact, whether it was “Xiao Shu” or “Peipei,” only Li Chuyue called him these things. Even his parents, when he was young, always called him by his full name, Pei Shu—cold and restrained, as if there was no intimate relationship between them.

“Peipei?” Li Chuyue called out again when Pei Shu didn’t move.

Pei Shu snapped out of it and rubbed his forehead. “I’m seven years older than you. What kind of way is that to call me?”

To his surprise, Li Chuyue, whose face was full of smiles a moment ago, suddenly looked at him pitifully. “But I want to call you something special. Can’t I call you ‘Peipei’? Should I go back to ‘Xiao Shu’ then? I don’t mind being a generation lower!” (As if.)

Pei Shu: …?

Pei Shu used to think Li Chuyue was quite cute, sticking to his side every day without being annoying. Though they hadn’t met for eight years and the kid had grown much smarter and even knew how to probe secretly, Pei Shu could feel that after the stream in the afternoon, Li Chuyue had completely recognized him, and his entire demeanor had relaxed significantly.

But…

Relaxed as he was, how could a man in his twenties be even better at acting spoiled than when he was a kid?

Pei Shu narrowed his peach-blossom eyes and sighed helplessly. “Fine, call me whatever you want.”

In an instant, the previously wilting Li Chuyue became radiant again. He pulled Pei Shu toward a low-key luxury black car, opened the door, and ushered him in.

Lu You, who was sitting upright in the driver’s seat and had witnessed his Director’s entire “puppy-dog acting spoiled” routine, was somewhat shocked. However, maintaining the professionalism of an excellent assistant, he started the car expressionlessly after Li Chuyue got in.

After getting into the car, Li Chuyue noticed the documents in Pei Shu’s hand.

“Peipei, what’s this?”

Pei Shu didn’t hide it and spoke candidly. “I’m planning to set up a game studio, but I’m short on funds. I wanted to ask if you’re interested in investing. This is the studio plan I prepared for you to look at, including the initial product direction and planning.”

“Of course, if you’re not interested, there’s no need to force it. I’ll find other ways.”

Without a word, Li Chuyue took the plan from Pei Shu’s hand. After scanning it at a speed of ten lines per glance, he put it into a file folder in the car.

“I’m interested,” Li Chuyue’s voice was decisive. Then, he softened his tone toward Pei Shu. “But tonight is the first time I’m having dinner with Peipei in eight years. Can we just eat tonight? We can look at the plan together after we return to the apartment?”

Pei Shu thought about it; that made sense.

From the moment he suddenly woke up from his muddled state yesterday afternoon until today, a lot had happened in just over twenty-four hours, keeping him in a state of high tension. It was only now, sitting with Li Chuyue, that he felt relaxed.

Having lost eight years of time, was he really going to spend all his attention on a tense revenge?

Of course not.

So he nodded with a smile. “Alright.”

By the time Li Chuyue brought Pei Shu to the reserved Songjian Hall, it was exactly 6:30, the peak of dinner time.

This private kitchen not only had delicious food but also a quiet and comfortable environment—the only problem was probably that it was expensive.

Pei Shu, who had just checked his total assets in the afternoon, looked at the setting and gave a faint sigh: he originally wanted to sincerely treat his “potential investor” to a meal, but if he really paid for this, it would probably eat up one-tenth of his entire net worth…

Little Pear really was a “Golden Pear.”

While Li Chuyue and Pei Shu were dining at Songjian Hall, in Dorm 716 of Beijing University of Science and Technology, Jiang Ziye solemnly clicked the upload and share button.

The time for the counterattack had begun.

On the campus network of Beijing University of Science and Technology, an anonymous account posted a brand-new thread.

Subject: Sharing a new game, “The Stolen Life,” feel free to download.

The university’s campus network had become popular because of Lin Cheng’s Crazy Graduation Season at the end of last year, becoming a gathering point for many people to share their game achievements.

At this hour, students had just finished classes and were eating while chatting about games. Some were aimlessly browsing the forum when they came across this post.

“‘The Stolen Life’? Huh, what’s this? A new game? This name is quite interesting.”

“Our campus network is looking more and more like a gaming forum, hahaha. So many people are releasing new games here!”

“The game name is interesting. I’m in, downloading to give it a try!”

At this moment, the other three members of Dorm 716, who had moved off-campus under the pretext of internships, were gathered for a meal. The “Big Brother” of the group also happened to see the game. Being bored, he casually clicked download.

With the campus network forum of Beijing University of Science and Technology as the center, the first batch of players for The Stolen Life had arrived.

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