My Fortune-Blessed Leading Lady
Chapter 510: Is our Zhizhi only worth this much money?

Chapter 510: Chapter 510: Is our Zhizhi only worth this much money?

Zhizhi looked at Yuran very seriously, his face full of concern, "Mom, is giving birth to a baby really dangerous?"

He was young and didn’t understand, so he spoke freely without realizing, but it warmed Yuran’s heart. She hugged him tightly, "No, in fact, if I think about it carefully, after having Zhizhi, Mom became even happier;

In our family, we have a dad, a mom, grandparents, and Zhizhi, that’s a complete family, isn’t it?"

Zhizhi was somewhat stubborn. He placed his hand on Yuran’s belly, "Mom, thank you for your hard work."

Bo Yan also couldn’t help but laugh as he tousled Zhizhi’s hair, "You little smarty-pants, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?"

Zhizhi smiled, "... Dad, if our family’s future little sister looks a lot like Mom, don’t you think that would be a very happy thing?"

Bo Yan: "..."

He didn’t dare to think about that possibility at all; mainly because, once he did, he would find it an appealing idea. Truly, he had been led into a trap by Zhizhi.

...

At the same time, in a studio in the capital.

"Editor-in-chief, I’ve got an email from an anonymous source, it’s big news."

The speaker looked young and was somewhat sleazy, emanating an air of repulsiveness that made him rather unlikable. Heavy glasses weighed down on his face.

The man he called editor-in-chief was a middle-aged man, potbellied with a receding hairline, just as sleazy-looking. This news agency was infamously foul-smelling within the industry.

The First Paparazzi.

Within the circle, regardless of their status, the private lives of most celebrities were exposed by this news agency. They had been focused on capturing the private lives of celebrities for a hundred years; for them, getting the shot meant making money.

Many artists, for the sake of their futures, would succumb to this studio’s threats and then buy back their scandals at an exorbitant price, a price far from ordinary.

This studio had a nice-sounding name, Morning Light.

Strangely enough, this studio, with just over a dozen people, managed to capture many big scandals of celebrities with precision. The private photo scandal of a certain celebrity before was exposed by them. It was said that Morning Light had set a firm price of sixty million for the photographs and negatives.

But that celebrity didn’t take it to heart, and just a day later, rumors about her were flying everywhere. Her film contracts and endorsements were pulled, and her losses were substantial.

Morning Light was like a rabid dog; many artists who got caught could only admit their bad luck and pay up to avoid disasters. Hence, despite the small size of the studio, their return on investment was extremely high.

Well-known in the industry for high salaries.

Weren’t they worried about the artists banding together to take them down?

Of course, they weren’t. They were not afraid of those who had more to lose. They claimed that if Morning Light were to disappear or be taken out one day, the names on many of their lists would be leaked. This was for self-protection. Of course, the celebrities who paid to settle their issues found them quite negotiable.

They wouldn’t only whitewash these celebrities but would also interact with them, praising them as good artists, capable of improvising, and not struggling at all to spout nonsense with a straight face.

Even though artists despised Morning Light’s existence, they had no means to deal with such a persistent studio.

They could only go along to get along and spend money to fend off disaster.

This studio was located in the busiest CBD district of the capital. It was already midnight, and seeing the person come in looking exhilarated, the editor-in-chief’s brows slightly raised with interest, "What news have you gotten?"

"Big news, Editor-in-Chief, take a look for yourself."

With that, he handed a USB drive to the middle-aged man.

The middle-aged man looked at him skeptically, wondering what the other party was getting at, and inserted the USB into the computer to open it. The first thing that caught his eye was a folder; as soon as he opened the folder, boy, was it a big deal.

All it contained was the face of an exquisite child, features so delicate they seemed unreal, and with two slight dimples.

It bore some resemblance to Bo Yan, the great film star.

Incredulously, the middle-aged man looked up, "Was this sent to us anonymously?"

The young man nodded, "Yeah, it came to our public submission email. I asked the other party for a price, but they said there was no need, just to report it. How we report it is up to us."

The middle-aged man, frustrated as if dealing with an old annoyance, raised his hand and threw a book at the sleazy young man, "Anonymous stuff sent to you, and for free no less—don’t you know there’s no such thing as a free lunch?"

The young man was hit in the chest by the book, which hurt a bit. He rubbed it and said with a hint of grievance, "Editor-in-Chief, but this is definitely big news. Let’s not even mention whether this child is Bo Yan’s child or not, just this appearance alone could boost sales figures. With a bit of hype we create, even if it’s not Bo Yan’s child, we could make it so."

The middle-aged man became furiously embarrassed, "Would it kill you to be silent? Can’t you think straight for once? How is it beneficial for our studio to offend someone like Bo Yan?"

The young man was persistent, "What about handling it privately?"

The Editor-in-Chief originally wanted to say that the young man was courting death.

But as the words came to his lips, he thought better of it and said, "If you are confident, then go ahead. I’ll leave this matter to you, but without my permission, you must not leak it, understand?"

"Yes, I got it."

...

"Xiaoqi, do you know? Some idiot used Zhizhi’s photo to bargain with me. Do you know how much our family’s Zhizhi is worth?" Bo San made a call to Bo Yan, taking pleasure in the other’s misfortune, but the last sentence was spoken through gritted teeth.

To the Bo Family, Zhizhi was an invaluable treasure. Was there someone with a death wish trying to extort them using their beloved’s photo?

Unbelievable.

The moment Bo Yan answered the call, Yuran was coaxing Zhizhi to sleep in the children’s room. Since Zhizhi’s birth, an old mansion had also been outfitted for Zhizhi’s room, with a layout identical to that of the Platinum Imperial Palace, just to ensure Zhizhi would not feel out of place, so the environment was replicated at a 1:1 scale.

Initially, Bo Yan wasn’t very keen on taking Bo San’s call; it seemed Bo San knew that too.

After hanging up, Bo San sent a message, then after Bo Yan picked up the call, this was the conversation he got.

It sounded like Bo San was taking pleasure in someone else’s trouble, but in reality, the call was from an infuriated Bo San, veins nearly bursting.

Bo Yan’s eyebrows were knitted slightly, a frown forming on his forehead, "What do you mean by that? What’s this about how much Zhizhi is worth?"

Bo San said, "It was Xie Cheng who contacted me. He said it’s better for me to handle this matter than for you to be personally involved. So, he informed me first, planning to tell you afterwards. But I jumped the gun and told you myself. Someone took photos of Zhizhi and sent them anonymously to the notorious Morning Light.

Now, a minor reporter from Morning Light is negotiating terms with me, demanding an upfront fee of eighty million for Zhizhi’s photos not to be exposed, non-negotiable.

Our family’s Zhizhi is worth way more than that. Is the other party stupid or something, not asking for more?"