The Late-Blooming Iceberg Top (Entertainment Industry) [GL] - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Yin Tong watched Qian Luo, twirling a pen in her hand with a slight smile. “I didn’t expect Miss Qian to arrive so quickly.”

Qian Luo gave a broad, easy grin. “Well, I did accept 200,000 yuan from Miss Zhou, didn’t I?” As she spoke, she scanned her surroundings, trying to find any clues within the minimalist design. “Where is Miss Zhou?”

Yin Tong remained seated, her eyes tracking Qian Luo’s every move. She seemed utterly unbothered by Qian Luo’s prying eyes, merely stating calmly, “Her? She’s a bit lazy.”

She looked up at Qian Luo with a perfect smile. “Will that cat of yours be lonely at home by itself? Should I send someone to pick it up and take it to a pet center for a massage or something?”

Qian Luo waved her hand dismissively. “She has to stay and guard the house.”

Yin Tong seemed genuinely interested in the cat, pressing further: “Your cat can guard a house? That’s quite remarkable.”

Qian Luo acted as if she completely missed the underlying probe and skipped the question entirely. “I want to know: if Zhou Xiaoming is dead, who is the direct beneficiary besides Miss Zhou?”

The high-end business pen spun once more in Yin Tong’s hand. “Many people.”

She set the pen down, leaned forward slightly, and gestured gracefully. “Please, sit, Miss Qian. I have much to tell you.”

Qian Luo followed the gesture to a chair that had clearly been placed there in anticipation. She sat down.

Yin Tong waited for her to settle before continuing. “The most direct beneficiary should be her stepfather, that third-rate director named Long Datou. I assume you’ve seen him on television. I am merely a subordinate of the Zhou family and have no right to judge their affairs, but I can tell you plainly—the day Zhou Xiaoming died happened to be the premiere of the movie Long Datou directed with her as the lead.”

Qian Luo let out a gasp.

If that were the case, Zhou Xiaoming’s death—which had shocked the entire nation and affected every celebrity associated with her—served as the most perfect, comprehensive marketing campaign for the film’s release, whether intentional or not.

A chill ran down Qian Luo’s spine.

The death of this girl involved far too many layers. If it was a coincidence, fine; but if it was calculated, then—

Yin Tong spoke with a hint of disdain in her eyes. “Because of this, the box office returns will be massive…” She glanced at Qian Luo and stopped, seemingly realizing she might be leading Qian Luo to suspect Long Datou too overtly. Her expression shifted back to that flawless smile. “Long Datou is the most direct. Looking further down the line of interest, there is Mr. Zhou’s company.”

Watching Yin Tong, Qian Luo felt that a woman this meticulously refined would never truly “lose her composure.” Therefore, she had every reason to believe Yin Tong was intentionally guiding her thoughts in this direction.

Was Yin Tong suspicious of Long Datou? Or was this third-rate director, who had accidentally stumbled into the power play of a great family, being groomed as a scapegoat by this loyal servant?

Qian Luo couldn’t be sure. Even though she felt an instinctive lack of sympathy for a man of Long Datou’s appearance, she couldn’t rashly pin the crime on him.

Yin Tong continued, “Actually, Qingfeng Entertainment was on the brink of bankruptcy due to various operational issues. Although the CEO, Mr. Zhou Lu, manages much larger projects and has plenty of capital, he clearly intended to let the company fail. He seemed indifferent, or perhaps harbored a grudge against the company that once built up his ex-wife. This laissez-faire attitude angered many shareholders, and internal conflicts were sharp. Now, with the massive returns from the film and rumors of award nominations, a huge amount of capital is flowing back in. It has essentially saved the company.”

Qian Luo suddenly cut in, “Miss Yin, you are also a manager at Qingfeng, aren’t you? Do you have any feelings for the company?”

Yin Tong, who had been listing other beneficiaries, was clearly surprised by the question. However, a satisfied smile played on her lips. “What? Is Miss Qian suggesting she suspects me?”

Qian Luo replied, “Not at all. It’s just that sitting here in this massive office, you seem… quite powerful.”

Yin Tong smiled. “This isn’t my office; it’s the Eldest Miss’s.” Her eyes flicked toward the closed side door. “I hold no shares in this company, nor do I have an official title. I simply manage all of this on behalf of the Eldest Miss.”

Qian Luo wanted to say something, but Yin Tong didn’t give her the chance. She carried on: “Everything I have, everything I am able to do, was given to me by her. Without her, I am nothing.”

As she said this, her face wore a warm, confident smile, and the gentleness in her voice carried a touch of seduction. “Therefore—I exist for her.”

“Everything I do has protecting her as its fundamental starting point; everything I desire is based on her as the primary cause. So, Miss Qian, do you understand the nature of the work I’ve hired you for?”

Carrying the weight of this almost territorial declaration—and the slight sense of loss it provoked—Qian Luo retreated from the top-floor office window. She took the elevator down floor by floor until she reached the level of a low-ranking employee. Yin Tong’s parting words still echoed in her ears: “Everyone in this company benefits from the Second Miss’s death. Until you find the truth, you will never know who the real killer is—”

“So please, you must keep your identity a secret.”

Keep my identity a secret. Qian Luo sat dejectedly at her desk, accepting a stack of files from the supervisor’s secretary. She thought heavily—as the primary investigator, she was being so “cowardly” that she couldn’t even ask about the case, let alone endure the secretary’s scolding.

“Making your superior fetch things for you on your first day? Quite the ego you have. Or did nine years of compulsory education not teach you how to find a filing room?”

Qian Luo nodded and apologized repeatedly, cursing both the secretary and Yin Tong in her head.

I didn’t receive nine years of compulsory education, so what! Is it that great? Your ‘Master’ here knows the heavens above and the earth below; I’ve taken down more powerful ghosts with a peach-wood sword than you’ve had hot dinners! Your big boss’s heir is the one begging for my help!

After venting internally, she began typing.

She soon realized the job Yin Tong had given her was highly unusual. As a “Data Entry Clerk,” she handled every scrap of information in the company: from HR resumes to daily records, and even the dating histories of various stars. It was as if Yin Tong had created this position specifically for today—all information in the company eventually funneled through her.

A lowly position that controls all the information? That’s incredible.

As she handled the files, a thought occurred to her—she had never heard of another company having such a process. From an ethical standpoint, organizing someone’s private data like this was questionable. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one doing this; there must be a whole fleet of typists, and all that organized text—

Would end up in Yin Tong’s hands.

Qian Luo began to wonder deeply. In a company this large, the upper management hadn’t even shown their faces. Was it really a “servant” to the heir who held all the power here? What kind of servant wields that much authority?

She shook off these heavy thoughts, thinking: But that servant certainly is loyal…

“I exist for her.”

Ugh, how mushy, Qian Luo thought. Her mind was wandering until it landed on a specific document. Suddenly, her attention was frozen.

Zhuo Zitong, Female, 27 years old.

It was a photo of a famous actress Qian Luo had seen before. This was a death record. Somehow, Yin Tong had obtained a copy of an autopsy report from the police station. The time of death? Last night.

Qian Luo was horrified. Why wasn’t this on the news? Two actresses from the same company dying back-to-back—what kind of coincidence was that? Or was it no coincidence at all?

To confirm, she hurriedly checked the news on her phone and found that the matter was being kept incredibly quiet! She glanced at the autopsy report. There was no way the police were this efficient.

Upon closer inspection, she realized it wasn’t an official police document. It was a preliminary report done by a private detective who had reached the scene before the police. Since the detective was a former forensic pathologist, they had filed a standard report—

But who was Yin Tong to be able to get a private detective to a scene before the police arrived?

In her shock, she heard someone call out: “Miss.”

Qian Luo looked up quickly. A man in ordinary casual clothes was looking at her. “The Director wants to see you.”

Qian Luo was confused. “Huh? Which Director?”

The man held a bag and smiled at her somewhat nervously, his speech too fast to follow easily. “The one at the end of the hall on the second floor, left side. Go quickly, aren’t you the new hire?”

Qian Luo had no choice but to put down her things and head upstairs, her mind still racing.

What she didn’t see was the man watching her back intently after she left. Another person quickly pulled a phone from their jacket, snapped several photos of the investigation report on the desk, tucked it back in, and replaced the file. The two of them then walked quickly out of the building.