Chapter 83: The Treacherous Arrow

Gu Cheng and Kwon Bo-ah reminisced for quite a while before finally taking their leave after lunch at the Kwon residence. Lunch consisted of leftovers from the previous night. Kwon Bo-ah, still young and inexperienced in the kitchen, was incapable of cooking. The leftovers had originally been set aside for Kwon Soon-woo alone. With two unexpected guests today, they ordered extra fried chicken and brought out pickled perilla leaves, seaweed strips, and other side dishes from the fridge to make up the numbers.

The pickles in the Kwon household were very light, not salty at all, allowing the subtle fragrance and bitterness of the perilla leaves to come through.

After the meal, the two naturally, and with proper restraint, agreed to go out together again the next day. As he was leaving, Gu Cheng reminded her, “Get some good rest. Once you’ve caught up on your sleep, I’ll come find you tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Kwon Bo-ah replied sweetly, personally escorting Gu Cheng to the elevator. Then she took a shower and collapsed into bed, falling instantly asleep.

Her days in Japan had left her utterly exhausted. On top of that, she’d caught a red-eye flight this morning. If not for the excitement of reuniting with Gu Cheng, she would have been out of energy long ago.

While Kwon Bo-ah slept, her brother Kwon Soon-woo was still buried in work. Having finished compiling the materials for Deputy Director Pan’s performance review, he finally submitted the application documents that day.

Kwon Soon-woo didn’t think much of it—these projects applying to enter the Kaesong Economic Cooperation Development Zone all had to go through public announcement. The information about related investors was available to anyone determined enough to look.

…

Early the next morning, in the Guro District of West Seoul, at WEMADE Game Company.

As soon as he arrived at the office, Director Park Young-gwan saw a file his secretary had left for him. He picked it up, and even before reading the content, the title on the folder made his eyelid twitch.

“Gu Cheng and Kwon Soon-woo, under a joint partnership, have established a company producing MP3 players and other electronic consumer products. They have successfully obtained entry into the Kaesong Economic Cooperation Development Zone and are now in the public announcement phase.”

It was that guy who had “snatched” Legend from WEMADE at rock-bottom price!

Park Young-gwan’s hand trembled, a bitter taste of resentment rising within him. When Gu Cheng bought out the copyright to Legend last autumn, Park hadn’t bothered to follow up on the aftermath. At the time, he had congratulated himself that the company had finally offloaded that half-finished game at a “high price” of five million yuan, shifting the burden and making a handsome profit.

Moreover, in his eyes, Gu Cheng—an inexperienced, pretty-faced drop-out—knew nothing of management and would surely run the game into the ground.

And indeed, the first three months after the purchase, Legend kept losing money through successive rounds of closed, internal, and public testing...

But after the new year, Park could no longer ignore the facts: the Chinese server for Legend had started turning a profit!

By the end of February, all of Gu Cheng’s initial investment and losses had been recouped. From March onward, it was pure profit.

By this point, Park wanted to wait and see, keeping his options open: on one hand, preparing to launch Legend domestically in Korea based on the reverse licensing from Legend Entertainment; on the other, watching how other Korean online games fared in the Chinese market—clinging to the faint hope that perhaps the profits weren’t due to Gu Cheng’s acumen, but rather China’s massive population and market. Maybe other Korean blockbuster games would outshine Legend there?

He was unwilling to believe that Gu Cheng’s eye for opportunity was that sharp, and his own so poor.

But within just another two or three months, that illusion was shattered.

In Korea, “Dragon Clan”—which Park considered vastly superior to Legend—made only a modest showing in China, nowhere near Legend’s success. Worse still, Dragon Clan’s mainland agent, Chen Tianqiao, seemed to have surrendered, willingly paying to join the “Alipay” system Gu Cheng had developed, extinguishing any hope for Dragon Clan to overtake Legend.

There are no secrets in the internet industry; business trends among competitors can always be uncovered if one pays attention. Once Park learned of this, he redoubled efforts to build up Legend’s Korean server, hoping to restore its former glory at home.

But WEMADE was merely a software company, weak in distribution and marketing. Korea’s excellent internet infrastructure meant players had no tolerance for lag or delays, so no one wanted to play a “crappy” game like Legend.

Park was furious. Since May, he had ordered his secretary to monitor every move by Gu Cheng and Legend Entertainment, reporting any news immediately. Nearly two months had passed already.

The reports that came back only fueled his anger. Gu Cheng never showed a single weakness; instead, he was thriving on all fronts—venturing into music and video e-commerce, launching several entertainers to fame, and even starring in his own self-produced TV drama, which became a sensation throughout East and Southeast Asia.

“Meteor Garden” on KBS had even surpassed last year’s hit, “Autumn in My Heart,” in ratings. This year, there wasn’t a single competitor that could match it.

A string of setbacks only made Park more eager to find dirt or leverage on Gu Cheng—anything that could force him to cough up some of the profits he had wrung from Legend.

In another world, Park Young-gwan would have tried every trick in the book: after seeing Chen Tianqiao’s success with Shanda, he would have started a feud to get a bigger cut. Unfortunately for him, in this reality, Gu Cheng had bought out the rights entirely, leaving none of the legal loopholes that Chen Tianqiao had left in his time, so Park couldn’t find a single crack to exploit.

Suppressing his complicated emotions, Park calmly finished reading the intelligence.

“It seems this Gu Cheng is very close with Director Kwon’s family. Even last year, when he came to buy ‘Legend’ from me, he was already using Kwon’s name as a shield—it’s clear they have been friends since before Gu Cheng’s rise to success, not after. But why is Gu Cheng still going out of his way to help the Kwon family now? He’s already made it big, and most of his business is in China. The Kwon family shouldn’t have any leverage over him anymore.”

Park’s intellect was sharp enough—since he’d investigated Gu Cheng’s background, he was well aware of those “publicly known but not searchable on Baidu, yet discoverable by those in the know” experiences.

For instance, Gu Cheng was once very poor, had been a trainee at S-M Entertainment, and was later expelled for unknown reasons—all facts that could be found out by the determined, as others present at the time would not keep such things secret.

“Could it be…” Park’s mind leaped to a wild possibility. Restless, he stood up, raked his hands through his hair, then spent ages flipping through his contacts to find someone he’d never spoken to before, but had discovered through investigation might be useful.

He took out his phone and dialed.

“Hello? Director Kim at S-M Entertainment? This is Park Young-gwan from WEMADE. Never mind if you haven’t heard of us—give me twenty seconds and my intentions will be clear…”

A few minutes of small talk later, Park was utterly shocked.

So the currently top-three most popular young female singer in the country, Kwon Bo-ah, was actually Director Kwon’s daughter! Kwon Soon-woo’s younger sister! Even more astonishing, the girl had a decent relationship with Gu Cheng back when they were both trainees, and moreover…

“Unbelievable! Those officials really know how to keep secrets! No wonder BOA is so famous—she was propped up by her family all along.”

A series of malicious, threatening thoughts began to fester in Park’s mind.

…

The next morning, after a solid fifteen-hour sleep, Kwon Bo-ah was finally restored to full energy.

Gu Cheng and Pan Jieying brought snacks and treats, rented a car, and came to pick up Kwon Bo-ah for a day at Seoul Land. For Pan Jieying, it was her first time; Kwon Bo-ah had been twice before, but her childlike heart relished the prospect of returning.

Seoul Land was nestled in the Gwanak Mountains on the far southwestern outskirts of the city, built along a narrow valley and lake area. Originally constructed for the 1988 Olympics, it had few facilities at first, but after several expansions became what it was today. Moreover, every two months, the park hosted new themed festivals, offering fresh experiences all year round.

Summer vacation had just begun, coinciding with the grand opening of the “Cherry Blossom Rose Festival.”

The car Gu Cheng rented was a luxury SUV, designed for high-end customers. The partition between driver and passengers was sealed, ensuring privacy—a favorite among stars wary of exposure.

Upon arrival, Gu Cheng told the driver to take a break and not to follow; he’d be called when they were ready to return in the afternoon.

With sunglasses for each of them, and baseball caps for Gu Cheng and Kwon Bo-ah, the trio entered smoothly.

Thanks to July’s sweltering heat, few attractions had long lines; only the water rides were packed.

It was Pan Jieying’s first time at such a theme park, so she wanted to try every thrilling ride and was having a blast.

The only drawback was that, to avoid being recognized, Gu Cheng couldn’t stand in line. For every popular attraction, Pan Jieying had to queue up first, then swap places once it was their turn—Koreans generally disliked people cutting in, and if one person queued for several, it often drew resentment.

But Pan Jieying had the instincts of an older sister and didn’t mind looking after her younger companions.

After finishing the roller coaster, Gu Cheng and Kwon Bo-ah sat under a parasol to cool off, watching as their cousin waited in the blazing sun for the next ride, “Black Hole Express.” Gu Cheng felt a bit guilty.

Sensing Pan Jieying’s effort, Kwon Bo-ah thoughtfully suggested, “Why don’t we go for some quieter, cooler attractions?”

Gu Cheng immediately agreed. “Good idea. How about boating? There’s a dock over there where we can rent a boat, and we won’t have to worry about being recognized out on the water.”