raknovel Chapter 16 My blind date was underestimated.
Chapter 16 My blind date was underestimated.
The alumni reception area for the university's centennial celebration is located in the "Centennial Memorial Hall" on the first floor of the main teaching building.
This place is usually used by the school for important meetings, but today it has been temporarily converted into a reception center.
The long table was covered with a dark green velvet tablecloth, on which were laid out exquisite tea snacks, fruit platters, and souvenirs printed with the school anniversary logo—badges, notebooks, and canvas bags, all neatly arranged.
When Su Xiaoxiao arrived, there were already twenty or thirty people gathered in the hall.
The air was filled with the aromas of coffee, tea, and a mixture of various perfumes.
The men were mostly dressed in well-fitting suits, while the women wore various business attire or cocktail dresses, all with exquisite makeup and impeccable manners.
These people are outstanding alumni of the provincial university in the past twenty years—corporate executives, entrepreneurial elites, well-known scholars, and cultural figures.
Pick any one of them, and their resume could fill an entire A4 page.
Su Xiaoxiao deliberately chose a more business-like outfit today: a light gray double-breasted suit jacket with a clean cut and a high shoulder line, paired with a black silk camisole underneath.
She wore matching suit trousers with straight legs, the length just reaching her ankles, revealing her slender ankles and a pair of nude pointed-toe high heels.
Her hair wasn't loose as usual; instead, it was tied into a low bun at the back of her head with a pearl hair clip, with a few stray strands deliberately left out to frame her face.
Her makeup was a standard professional look—earth-toned eyeshadow, long eyelashes, and a dusty rose lipstick, making her look capable and sophisticated without being too overtly sharp.
Even so, she still attracted a lot of attention when she walked into the hall.
"Xiaoxiao?" A middle-aged man wearing gold-rimmed glasses was the first to recognize her. "President Su's daughter, she's grown so much!"
Su Xiaoxiao recognized him—Chen Mingyuan, her father's business partner, a senior from hers fifteen years ahead of her, and now a partner at a well-known investment bank.
"Hello, Senior Brother Chen." Su Xiaoxiao walked over with a smile, shook hands, and said, "Long time no see, you still look as energetic as ever."
"Oh, not at all, I'm getting old." Chen Mingyuan chuckled, his gaze sweeping over her. "I heard you took over the family's cultural company? How's it going? Is it doing well?"
"We're still in the exploratory stage," Su Xiaoxiao said with a polite smile. "We're just starting out, and there's a lot to learn."
"It's good that you're energetic, young man." Chen Mingyuan nodded, but his eyes clearly held the playful tolerance of an elder towards a younger generation. "However, the cultural industry is tough, especially now. Traffic is king, and content has become secondary. What's your company mainly focusing on now?"
"We want to cultivate artists who can spread Chinese culture and create some profound cultural and entertainment works," Su Xiaoxiao said earnestly. "It's not just about becoming internet celebrities or traffic stars, but about truly going international and letting the world see the charm of Chinese culture."
Upon hearing this, the alumni who were talking nearby fell silent for a moment.
Then, someone chuckled softly.
The laughter was soft, but clear enough.
Su Xiaoxiao turned her head and saw a woman wearing a champagne-colored dress. She was about thirty-five years old, with a gentle temperament, but her eyes held the scrutiny of someone who had been through it all.
Su Xiaoxiao recognized her—Lin Wan, a graduate of the Chinese Literature Department, now the editor-in-chief of a well-known publishing house, who has published several best-selling books and is somewhat famous in cultural circles.
"Senior Sister Lin," Su Xiaoxiao greeted her.
"Xiaoxiao," Lin Wan walked over, holding a cup of black tea, her smile gentle, "I heard you say earlier that you want to cultivate artists to spread Chinese culture? Very ambitious. However... the current market environment might be a little different from what you imagine."
She paused, her tone like a teacher explaining a difficult problem to a student: "Do you know what young people like to watch these days? Short videos, lighthearted novels, and sweet romance dramas. The kind of in-depth entertainment works you mentioned require large investments, have long development cycles, slow returns, and a limited audience. I know a few friends who did similar projects, and they all eventually transitioned to MCNs, signing a few internet celebrities and taking on some gigs, at least enough to support their teams."
A senior student who invests in film and television chimed in, "Editor-in-Chief Lin is right, Xiaoxiao. I'm not trying to discourage you, but that's just the reality. If you want to export culture, you first need capital support. And capital is all about returns. You might spend three years polishing a high-quality drama, and it might not even earn you as much as a social media influencer making in a month through live-streaming e-commerce."
"But someone has to do it," Su Xiaoxiao said, her voice soft but firm. "If everyone only focuses on short-term gains, then our cultural market will really only be fast food."
These words caused several alumni to exchange glances.
The meaning in his eyes was clear—idealism, naivety, and impracticality.
Chen Mingyuan patted Su Xiaoxiao on the shoulder, his tone like that of someone soothing a sulking child: "Xiaoxiao, it's good that you have this intention. But doing business, especially in the cultural business, can't rely solely on sentiment. So, if you need financing or resource connections in the future, you can come to your senior brother, and I'll definitely help if I can."
This sounds like support, but it actually means: Your project is unreliable, but I can give you some face because you are a daughter of the Su family.
Su Xiaoxiao smiled and didn't say anything more.
For the next hour or so, she moved around among various senior students like a human cardboard cutout.
When asked about the size of her company, she said, "It's still in its early stages." When asked which artists she had signed, she said, "We're looking for them." When asked about her representative works, she said, "The projects are still in the planning stages."
With each response, the other person's "tolerance" increased.
In the end, Su Xiaoxiao could almost read their unspoken thoughts: rich kids dabbling in this, using their family's money to mess around, they won't amount to anything, at most they'll cultivate a few internet celebrities, fleece the public, and then they'll stop once they get tired of it.
Even when a few school teachers came over to greet her, their tone carried a kind of politeness, as if they were favoring someone with connections: "Xiaoxiao, how's your father's health lately? Please give him my regards. If your company needs any support from the school, just let us know, and we'll definitely help if we can."
She heard "I'll help if I can" at least ten times today.
But what it really means is: We know you won't achieve anything significant, but we'll give you some face because you're an alumnus, just don't make things too ugly.
The alumni lunch is held at the school's "Reception Building".
This is the most upscale restaurant in the province. It is not open to the public and is only used to receive important guests.
Today, to celebrate the centennial anniversary of our school, we specially invited a chef team from a five-star hotel to handle the preparations.
Su Xiaoxiao sat by the window, with Chen Mingyuan, Lin Wan, and several senior students who had made significant achievements in the fields of finance, law, and technology at the same table.
During the meal, the conversation ranged from macroeconomics to artificial intelligence, from international affairs to industrial upgrading. Everyone spoke eloquently, quoting classical texts and demonstrating their extensive knowledge and keen insight.
Su Xiaoxiao listened quietly, occasionally chiming in with a few words, but she couldn't get a word in edgewise.
Although she studied business, she took over her family's company directly after graduation. She had no experience in large enterprises, had not participated in projects worth hundreds of millions, and had no successful cases that she could talk about at the dinner table.
All she could say was about the "cultural dissemination plan" that was still just talk on paper, and about her own prospective artist who was supposed to go on stage tonight, and whose rehearsal time even had to be secured by Zhou Yuji.
"Why isn't Xiaoxiao saying anything?" Lin Wan suddenly steered the conversation towards her. "Is our conversation getting too boring? What do you young people pay attention to these days? Short videos? Live streams? Or that... metaverse?"
Everyone at the table laughed, their laughter carrying a sense of understanding and tolerance from elders towards younger people.
Su Xiaoxiao put down her chopsticks, wiped her mouth, and then looked up at Lin Wan and the other people at the table.
"Actually, I've been thinking," she began, her voice clear, "that all of you senior students sitting here today are discussing macro trends and the future of industries. But has anyone considered what kind of cultural products will ultimately carry these trends and futures?"
There was a moment of silence on the table.
"Take artificial intelligence, for example," Su Xiaoxiao continued, "it's not just a technological issue, but also an ethical and social one. Discussions and reflections on these issues need to be expressed and disseminated through literature, film, and music. Another example is the international situation—what kind of image of China do we want to present to the world? Is it a stereotypical portrayal of kung fu and cheongsams, or a richer, more multifaceted, and more humane cultural connotation?"
She paused, her gaze sweeping over everyone at the table: "These things can't be achieved by internet celebrities and popular stars alone. It requires truly profound works, performances that can move people, and a group of people willing to dedicate themselves to creating content. And our company is looking for those kinds of people to do that kind of work."
After these words were spoken, an even longer silence fell over the table.
Then, Chen Mingyuan smiled, the kind of smile an elder gives when listening to a younger person express their ambitions: "Xiaoxiao, you're right about everything. But the reality is, creating in-depth content doesn't make money. If it doesn't make money, how will you support the team? How will you keep producing content?"
"Therefore, we need to find a balance between commerce and art," Su Xiaoxiao said, "instead of abandoning the pursuit of art from the beginning and only focusing on commercial returns."
"Your ideals are lofty." Lin Wan shook her head slightly, her tone carrying a hint of barely perceptible sarcasm. "But Xiao Xiao, you may not have experienced the harsh realities of the market yet. When you actually invest tens of millions to make a drama that is critically acclaimed but commercially unsuccessful, or when you promote a talented but unpopular artist, you will understand that sentimentality cannot put food on the table."
These words were so blunt that they almost tore away the facade of politeness.