Ten minutes later, Chu Liangxia left the restaurant.
At the table where she had stayed, only Yue Zhou remained.
Yue Zhou's face was pale, his hand clutching the stack of contracts, yet he felt as miserable and stifled as if he had eaten a fly.
Chu Liangxia had somehow obtained a recording and had control over his Achilles' heel. If he signed the contract, she would immediately publish the recording.
That recording was enough to destroy his current career.
Chu Liangxia's contract traded a few songs for an outrageously large sum of money, to be paid in one go.
And yet, the amount was just within the extreme limits of what he could bear.
The quality of her songs was indeed acceptable.
Chuchu's reputation could give a reasonable explanation to his superiors.
It could be said that Chu Liangxia had arranged all his exits, preventing him from being driven to a desperate corner.
But—
It hurt so much.
