Hearing such a remark out of the blue, Xiu Yu gasped sharply.
In the past, she would have thought Ying Zijin was joking.
But not this time.
A casually drawn oil painting had attracted the attention of a distinguished professor from the O continent's Royal Academy of Arts; designing clothes would surely be no harder.
Xiu Yu glanced around, lowering her voice, "Daddy Ying, when did you sneak into Chuguang Media?"
"Not sneaking," Ying Zijin yawned lazily, "I did it openly and aboveboard."
"Sigh, I also want to get into Chuguang Media," Xiu Yu said eagerly, "Daddy Ying, how about after I graduate I go work as a junior cleaner at Chuguang Media, just to clean the rooms for our kids?"
Jiang Ran, who was on the verge of falling asleep, perked up a bit at her words, "What? You want to do cleaning work? Then come to my house, I'll pay you a hundred thousand a month."
With a 'pop', Xiu Yu smacked an apple onto Jiang Ran's head.