Entertainment: After singing her CEO best friend to tears, she repaid him with her body.

Chapter 84 Your Opponent is an Expert

Looking into Wang Bo's clear eyes, Su Xiaoxiao suddenly found herself unable to speak.

She got up and walked to the window, her back to Wang Bo: "This noon, Lin Wan contacted me and wanted to invite you to participate in her cultural interview program, 'The Implied Meaning.'"

Wang Bo raised an eyebrow: "Lin Wan? That senior from the provincial university alumni association?"

"Yes." Su Xiaoxiao turned around and looked at him. "The appearance fee is 300,000 yuan, after tax, for just one episode."

Wang Bo was stunned.

Three hundred thousand is a very, very large number for him.

I only earned a few thousand from that performance in the rain.

If you calculate it that way, he would have to work continuously for more than a month to earn 300,000.

"However," Su Xiaoxiao continued, "I looked at the interview outline and the guest list. The theme was the clash between Chinese and Western cultures, and those experts were all... more inclined to advocate Western culture, and the questions were also biased."

She handed the folder Lin Wan had given her to Wang Bo.

Wang Bo took it and examined it carefully.

The office was quiet, with only the sound of papers turning.

Looking at his focused profile, Su Xiaoxiao suddenly felt a little despicable—why did she tell him when she had already decided to refuse? Did she subconsciously still hope that he would agree for the money?

"President Su," Wang Bo suddenly spoke, his voice calm, "how much money has the company spent on me?"

Su Xiaoxiao was taken aback: "Why are you asking that?"

"From the time I signed the contract until now, the publicity, production, costumes, transportation, accommodation..." Wang Bo looked up, "I've roughly calculated it, it's no less than 500,000. And the revenue I bring to the company is only a few tens of thousands."

He put down the folder: "After deducting taxes and profit sharing, my appearance fee for 'The Voice of China' was less than 200,000 yuan. The company even had to pay me out of pocket, right?"

Su Xiaoxiao pursed her lips: "This is an investment. I'm optimistic about your long-term value."

"But the company needs cash flow." Wang Bo laughed. "President Su, I'm not stupid. I overheard your conversation with the finance department when your office door wasn't closed properly. If we don't inject funds soon, we won't be able to pay next month's salaries."

Su Xiaoxiao blushed: "That's...."

"So this 300,000 is very important to the company," Wang Bo interrupted her. "And it's just for recording one episode, two hours, so it won't interfere with the competition."

Su Xiaoxiao frowned: "But the interview content..."

"I've finished reading it." Wang Bo picked up the folder and pointed to the questions: "Is traditional Chinese culture no longer suitable for modern society? Is Western individualism superior to Eastern collectivism? How should we view the cultural inferiority complex behind the rise of the 'Guochao' (national trend)?"

After he finished reading, he looked at Su Xiaoxiao with clear eyes: "President Su, what do you think my answer will be?"

Su Xiaoxiao looked at him and suddenly remembered what he had said backstage at the provincial university's anniversary celebration: "Music is first and foremost an expression. Even if it's just a pop song, it should have its own structure and attitude."

"I don't know," she said honestly.

"I will tell them," Wang Bo said, emphasizing each word, "that traditional Chinese culture is not a fossil, but living water, flowing in our veins. The superiority of Western individualism over Eastern collectivism is obvious. The rise of the 'Guochao' (national trend) is not a sign of cultural inferiority, but an awakening of cultural confidence."

He paused, then smiled: "Of course, I'll put it more tactfully, after all, they paid 300,000 for two hours."

Su Xiaoxiao looked at Wang Bo, at this young man dressed simply and carrying an old guitar, and suddenly felt that he was radiating light.

It's not the kind of radiance you see on stage, but a gentle, unwavering light that comes from within.

"You..." Su Xiaoxiao asked, "Are you really going?"

"Go." Wang Bo nodded. "But President Su, the company will take the lion's share of the 300,000; I only need 100,000."

Su Xiaoxiao's eyes welled up with tears: "What nonsense are you talking about? We'll split the profits according to the contract."

"Then let's go by the contract." Wang Bo stood up. "But President Su, you have to promise me one thing."

"What?"

"If I say something wrong on the show and cause trouble, don't blame me." Wang Bo blinked. "Of course, I'll try my best to control myself, after all, I still want to continue singing."

Su Xiaoxiao looked at him and suddenly smiled: "Okay, if the sky falls, I'll hold it up for you."

"Alright." Wang Bo picked up the guitar case. "Are you still going to listen to the demo of the new song?"

"I'll listen! Of course I'll listen!" Su Xiaoxiao sat back in her office chair. "But Wang Bo, I have to remind you—Lin Wan's show has a high-caliber audience, and they're ruthless in their criticism. Are you really prepared?"

Wang Bo plugged in the USB drive and clicked play.

A melodious guitar intro flowed from the amplifier.

He turned to look at Su Xiaoxiao, his smile confident and composed: "President Su, music knows no borders, but musicians have a homeland. I know what I'm talking about, and I know what I'm going to sing."

That evening, the Su sisters' large penthouse.

After hearing her sister's account, Su Yiyi remained silent for a moment: "Wang Bo... agreed?"

"He agreed, and he was very firm in his decision," Su Xiaoxiao said. "Sister, you know what? When he said those words, he was practically glowing. For the first time, I felt... that 300,000 yuan wasn't enough for him."

Su Yiyi stood still. It wasn't that she didn't believe in Wang Bo's talent and conviction, but rather that she was all too aware of the tone of that program—it wasn't an equal dialogue, but a judgment based on preconceived notions.

Wang Bo, a young singer, has almost zero chance of winning against three established experts skilled in debate.

"No," Su Yiyi suddenly said, "I have to help him prepare."

"What are you preparing?" Su Xiaoxiao looked up.

"Cultural knowledge, debating skills, and..." Su Yiyi said, "the points of attack those people might use. Although Wang Bo is firm in his beliefs, he is not a professional scholar after all, and it's easy for him to get caught up in their traps."

She strode to the study, turned on the computer: "I remember Professor Chen's book published last year had a discussion on the 'conservatism of Eastern culture,' Dr. Li's paper mentioned 'the suppression of personal development by traditional family structures,' and Editor Zhang's column last month was about 'the national trend being nothing more than a commercial gimmick'..."

Looking at her sister's focused profile, Su Xiaoxiao suddenly smiled: "Sis, are you that worried about him?"

Su Yiyi paused, her ears turning slightly red. She didn't answer her sister's question, but instead quickly typed on the keyboard.

Su Xiaoxiao smiled and shook her head, then took out her phone and sent Wang Bo a WeChat message: "My sister is helping you prepare a strategy, aren't you touched?"

A moment later, Wang Bo replied: "I'm touched, but no need. Let Teacher Su get some rest."

The next moment, Su Yiyi's phone rang.

She glanced at it, a gentle smile appearing on her face, but her fingers typed even faster.

Su Xiaoxiao leaned over to look at the screen and found that her sister was organizing a densely packed document titled: "Common Pitfalls and Coping Strategies in Sino-Western Cultural Debates".

"Sister," Su Xiaoxiao said softly, "are you...?"

"What is it?" Su Yiyi asked without looking up.

Su Xiaoxiao glanced at her sister's slightly reddened ears and swallowed her words back: "It's nothing."