Chapter 208: Are We Really Short of Money or Not

Chapter 208: Is He Actually Short of Money?

Hu Yijing was keen to gauge Meng Fan’s attitude. Even if he were to decline, she was confident in her ability to discern whether he felt even the slightest flicker of interest.

If he did, she would naturally proceed to test the waters further.

As long as Meng Fan was willing to debut, she possessed a comprehensive, tailor-made strategy to transform him into an idol, and eventually, a superstar.

An idol must possess a certain spark, and Hu Yijing had seen plenty in Meng Fan.

What are the requirements for an idol?

First and foremost, appearance.

In Hu Yijing’s view, Meng Fan had the look, and his physical foundation was excellent.

His features were undeniably handsome; after all, he had a sister who dared to claim she was the most beautiful woman in the world without a single soul daring to object—the genetics were sound. Furthermore, Hu Yijing had a sharp eye; she could see that Meng Fan’s facial structure was striking. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and while he carried some extra weight, she knew that with professional guidance, he could be lean and muscular within three to five months.

A masculine idol—that was a type sorely missing from the current market.

Meng Fan possessed a unique, magnetic charm.

Secondly, it wasn’t about talent, but inspiration!

He already possessed this in abundance.

Only then came talent.

Meng Fan had talent, and plenty of it.

His singing voice was already decent, and with practice, it could reach a professional standard. His tone was so distinct and captivating that it could become his signature. Then there was his smile—charming and addictive. He was highly photogenic and possessed strong stage presence; he could easily start on the path of an idol singer.

As for painting, that went without saying; he was at a professional, top-tier level.

Basketball was a bonus, and holding a world record added a layer of prestige.

With such a foundation, he would be easy to mold.

Hu Yijing was confident that within three years, she could turn Meng Fan into a sensation.

She looked at him with anticipation, waiting for his answer, watching closely to see if he was moved.

However, what she saw was Meng Fan shaking his head without a hint of hesitation. "If there’s a live stream involved, I’m in. If not, Sister Jing, please turn them down for me."

The first attempt: failure.

Hu Yijing didn't show disappointment immediately, nor did she give up. She smiled and nodded. "I understand. If there are any offers that include live streaming, I’ll let you know."

Though she remained curious as to why Meng Fan was so fixated on live streaming—she didn't buy the excuse about being nervous without it—she saw it as a potential breakthrough.

After declining, Meng Fan ate a shrimp dumpling, then seemed to realize something. "Sister Jing, you mentioned commercial performances earlier?"

Hu Yijing paused, then nodded. He wasn't interested in shows, but he was interested in commercial gigs?

Meng Fan asked curiously, "What are the details?"

"Wait a moment."

Hu Yijing pulled out her phone and checked her notes. "There are three. One is an opening event for a real estate project in Shanghai, and the other two are promotional shoots for sand art advertisements—one in the capital, one in Shanghai."

Meng Fan asked, "How much do they pay?"

Hu Yijing paused again. Was Meng Fan short of money? He certainly didn't look like it!

"The shoot in the capital is 200,000, the one in Shanghai is 180,000, and the real estate event is 150,000."

Under normal circumstances, such gigs wouldn't be in her notes, but because it was Meng Fan, she had made a special record.

Of course, these rates were high for a sand artist; the clients were paying for the influence he gained from the Double Eleven gala. Otherwise, they would be much lower.

Upon hearing the figures, Meng Fan lost interest immediately.

He had been interested initially because he wanted to earn money to fuel his "Scatter-Wealth Boy" and "Million-Dollar Tip" goals. But at these prices, combined with the travel and the unknown time commitment, he wasn't interested. He could earn just as much by taking on a few sets of hand-drawn posters, staying right where he was.

Seeing Meng Fan’s expression, Hu Yijing felt relieved—that was more like it. Still, she kept a watchful eye and asked jokingly, "What’s the matter? Are you short of money lately? Do you need Sister Jing to lend you some?"

Meng Fan laughed. "No, I was just curious about what my market value is for commercial gigs."

Borrowing money was out of the question; he wouldn't even ask his own family, let alone an outsider.

As for the show invitations, Meng Fan knew they mostly offered travel expenses. For someone like him, who wasn't a big star, even appearing as a guest on a reality show was just a token gesture. In the eyes of the production team, inviting you was a favor to boost your fame—don't expect a fortune!

The astronomical figures rumored for shows only applied to big stars like Su Qingcen.

Even for variety show regulars, the pay was only in the tens of thousands—not insignificant, but not worth Meng Fan's consideration.

Besides, recording shows was a hassle, and he found the idea somewhat repulsive.

So, even when he thought about making money, he had excluded those offers.

Hu Yijing remained skeptical. She felt Meng Fan might truly be short of money. She couldn't guess why, perhaps he was just independent and didn't want to take his family's money.

Su Qingcen also kept a watchful eye. After dinner, once Meng Fan had left, she called Meng Caiwei, obtained Meng Fan’s bank account number, and transferred 500,000 yuan.

When Meng Fan returned to his apartment from the Huanglong Sports Center, he saw the message Su Qingcen had left on WeChat: "Xiao Fan, this 500,000 is the fee for your participation in the concert and the production of the MV."

Meng Fan immediately called her, speaking directly: "I was just curious about the market rates; why does it feel like I’m begging you for a paycheck?"

Su Qingcen replied, "Begging? This is what you’ve earned. I was going to give it to you today anyway, regardless of whether you asked about commercial rates."

"Isn't this a bit too much?"

Meng Fan didn't know the going rate, but based on the commercial offers he’d heard, it felt excessive.

"Too much? If you think so, then next time I need you, don't use that 'I'm nervous without live streaming' excuse to turn me down!" She added a sticker of a cool character smoking a cigarette.

"Fine. But from now on, no matter how many times we work together, you can't give me money. Otherwise, I’ll be too embarrassed to treat you as both an idol and a friend!"

Since the money had already been transferred, he didn't want to be overly coy. He knew Su Qingcen didn't miss 500,000.

Su Qingcen skipped the topic. "By the way, you have a basketball tournament tomorrow, right? Good luck!"

After a few more words, the call ended.

Once he hung up, Meng Fan searched for his previous donation record to the "Shan Jin Charity Foundation" and donated the entire 500,000.

He was short of money, yes, but money was meant to be scattered.

Since the money came from Su Qingcen, he would donate it to her charity foundation.

After donating, he took a shower, feeling refreshed.

The staff at the Shan Jin Charity Foundation saw the donation and immediately notified Su Qingcen’s team—not because of the amount, but because the account was marked as Su Qingcen’s number-one fan.

When Su Qingcen heard the news from her staff, she was stunned.

She had truly believed Meng Fan was in need of money and had sent it early out of concern, never expecting him to donate it all.

Could she have misread the situation? Was he actually not short of money at all?