FYN Chapter 78 Preparing a Car for Chu Ran
Chapter 78 Preparing a Car for Chu Ran
The weather was perfect on the day filming began for "Ning An Ru Meng".
A simple ceremony platform was set up outside the studio, decorated with red cloth and flowers, and the entire crew was present. Peng Bing stood in the middle, and spoke for less than two minutes, essentially wishing the project a smooth run, without uttering a single unnecessary word.
Zeng Hao stood at the back of the crowd and clapped after listening.
As soon as the ceremony ended, the crew went straight into the studio without even having time to take photos.
Peng Bing stood in the studio and instructed the photographer: "For the scene at the ferry crossing, use the camera positions we arranged yesterday. Zhang Linghe, come over here."
Zhang Linghe walked out of the crowd, wearing Xie Ju'an's gray-blue robe, his hair neatly tied up. When he stood in front of the ferry set, his temperament and the scene matched perfectly, without any sense of incongruity.
Peng Bing glanced at him, offered no comment, and turned to the photographer, saying, "Start following him from the moment he turns around, one take, no cuts."
The photographer adjusted the camera position and nodded.
Zhang Linghe stood in the designated spot, head down, silently acting, his lips not moving.
Zeng Hao walked to the monitor and stood there.
He knew perfectly well what the final result of this scene would be. In his past life, this shot was included in the first trailer for "Ning An Ru Meng," and a bunch of people in the comments said that just from that one glimpse of his back, they knew the show was going to be a hit. But he didn't know if this scene could be filmed in one take, nor did he know how different Zhang Linghe's appearance on screen would be from the image he remembered.
It was this uncertainty that kept him glued to the monitor.
"preparation--"
"Power on."
The sound of water at the ferry crossing was added in post-production; on set, there was only the slight hum of a prop fan. The camera enters from the left, stops at the ferry crossing, and turns around.
Zhang Linghe raised his head.
That glance upwards wasn't an act at all; it was Xie Ju'an himself.
He knew she was leaving, knew what this farewell meant, and knew he wouldn't say anything. But in that one simple gesture of looking up, all the unspoken words were hidden within.
The photographer took a step forward, the lens firmly pressed against his face.
"Your journey," Zhang Linghe began, his voice calm and even, his classical accent impeccable, his emotions perfectly suppressed, revealing not a trace of the turbulent feelings beneath, "may you have a safe journey."
He turned around and walked towards the ferry crossing.
Zhang Linghe stood still, watching her figure gradually disappear at the end of the set, without moving.
The photographer followed for eight seconds longer before slowly bringing the camera to a stop.
Peng Bing called for a stop.
The shed was silent for about four seconds.
The assistant director was writing something down in his notebook, while Fang Qing closed the script in her hand without saying a word.
Peng Bing walked to the monitor, replayed the scene from when Zhang Linghe looked up until his figure disappeared, then paused it eight seconds later.
He turned off the playback and looked at Zeng Hao.
"Let's go this way."
Zeng Hao looked away from the monitor.
"Um."
He didn't say much, but the footage on the monitor was much closer to what he remembered than he had expected.
It's not exactly the same, but the taste is right.
Around 2 PM, Xu Wen forwarded Chu Ran's message to him.
Chu Ran sent it to Tian Xiwei, Tian Xiwei took a screenshot and sent it to Xu Wen, who then forwarded it to Zeng Hao, adding the comment: "Take a look."
Tian Xiwei: You've finished your physical fitness exam.
Chu Ran: After the exam, there was a car waiting for me at the gate. I thought there was a mistake, so I called Xu Wen, and she said it was a car prepared for me.
Tian Xiwei: Zeng Hao prepared it?
Chu Ran: I asked Xu Wen, and Xu Wen said that General Manager Zeng asked him to prepare it.
Tian Xiwei: ? How did he know you were going to the film set after your exam today?
Chu Ran: Xu Wen said he had calculated the time and knew I wouldn't have time to rush to the film set after the exam, so he had the car wait at the door.
Tian Xiwei: ...this person
Chu Ran: I also think it's quite unexpected.
Tian Xiwei: Are you in the car now?
Chu Ran: Yes, I'm memorizing my lines, we're going to film later.
Tian Xiwei: Can't you even give him a compliment?
Chu Ran: What are you praising?
Tian Xiwei: He prepared a car for you.
Chu Ran: I sent you a message thanking me.
Tian Xiwei: Did he reply?
Chu Ran: No
Tian Xiwei: ...Fine, you all do it this way.
After reading through the chat history, Zeng Hao tossed his phone aside and picked up his shooting log from the first day of use.
Xu Wen waited outside for a while, and seeing no movement inside, he poked his head in again: "Did you see it?"
"Um."
"Chu Ran thanked you, but you didn't reply."
"Um."
Xu Wen pulled his head back and muttered to himself, "One doesn't praise, and the other doesn't reply; they're a perfect match."
In the evening, there was some activity at Dingsheng.
It wasn't Xu Wenfa who sent it; it was a liaison officer from Chen's business department who casually took a screenshot and sent it over with the caption: "I saw it, for your reference."
The screenshot was posted by an entertainment account under Dingsheng. The content is short and roughly means: A small entertainment company recently made a high-profile announcement that a period drama has started filming. The male lead is a student who has no works to his name. The industry is generally taking a wait-and-see approach to the market prospects of this project and is looking forward to the final product.
The last sentence is in bold: We look forward to the final presentation.
The words were spoken politely and without a single fault, but anyone with eyes could see that those four words were not a genuine expression of expectation.
Xu Wen sent in a screenshot, followed by a long string of question marks.
After Zeng Hao finished reading, he immediately placed his phone screen-down on the table.
The sentence that wasn't finished in the previous chapter has now been completed in the second half.
Wait for Zhang Linghe to appear in the first shot.
In today's clip, Peng Bing directly stated that the photographer followed for eight seconds longer, and the studio was quiet for four seconds.
Dingsheng now says they look forward to the final presentation.
Then let's wait for it to be presented.
He picked up his phone and then put it down again, without replying to Xu Wen. He picked up his photography diary and started flipping through it from the first page.
Xu Wen waited outside for three minutes and then sent a message: "Do you have any plans?"
Zeng Hao did not reply.
She waited two more minutes and then sent another message: Okay, I got it. I'll just wait. You always know what you're doing anyway.
Zeng Hao turned to the third page.
On the books, the first expense in the production budget for "Ning An Ru Meng" was processed today: 400,000 yuan, covering the venue and personnel costs for the first day of filming. Sister Liu updated the expense record, and the figures in the books began to move down.
This is just the beginning.
There are still five months to go.
Not long after, Xu Wen forwarded another invitation, this one in a very formal format. The organizer was an industry media outlet, and seven co-organizers were listed, with Galaxy Capital being the fourth.
The event was called the 2016 Film and Television Industry Pioneer Forum. The list of invited guests is attached below, with Peng Bing's name listed third among the directors.
Zeng Hao read the invitation letter from beginning to end, then put down his phone.
Galaxy Capital's choice of this entry point is indeed quite clever.
Industry forums aren't business negotiations; there are no contracts, no formal invitations. It's just a few people sitting on stage discussing industry trends, having tea in the audience, and exchanging contact information afterwards. In this setting, any contact can be considered normal industry exchange, and there's nothing wrong with it.
As long as Peng Bing goes there and is in the same room as the people from Xinghe Capital, and then has a meal afterward, and the other party casually mentions that they have a project they want to talk about recently, that's how the seed of their relationship is planted.
How things develop from here depends entirely on Peng Bing's own judgment.
The problem is that Peng Bing isn't as familiar with the intricacies of capital as Zeng Hao is.
He saved a screenshot of the invitation and sent a message to Xu Wen: "Have Peng Bing come over."
When Peng Bing came in, he was still holding a storyboard, clearly having been pulled directly from his work.
He sat down in a chair, placed the storyboard on the table, and looked at Zeng Hao.
Zeng Hao pushed a screenshot of the invitation in front of him.
Peng Bing glanced down at it, then looked up: "I received this. You got it too?"
"The fourth co-organizer," Zeng Hao reminded.
Peng Bing lowered his head again, carefully read through the list of co-organizers, paused for two seconds on the words "Galaxy Capital," and then looked up again.
"You mean, they used this occasion to see me?"
"It's not about lending," Zeng Hao said. "It's about creating an opportunity for contact without having to find a reason. After the forum, we can have a meal together privately, and they can say that they have a project they'd like to discuss. Once they say that, it'll be much easier to move things forward."
Peng Bing pushed the screenshot back and leaned back in his chair.
"There's a clause in my contract," Zeng Hao said. "Article 19 states that during the cooperation period, the party cannot accept formal cooperation invitations from third parties, nor can they participate in substantive project negotiations. Breach of contract will result in a penalty of 30% of the current project budget."
Peng Bing wasn't surprised and nodded: "I saw it when I signed the contract."
"The forum itself isn't a violation," Zeng Hao explained. "But if there's substantive contact after the forum, Article 19 could be triggered. Galaxy Capital's legal team is probably aware of this article as well. They won't discuss projects directly at the forum; they'll move on to private discussions afterward, using informal methods to circumvent the boundaries of substantive negotiations stipulated in the contract."
Peng Bing went through this logic in his mind.
"So I'm not going to this forum."
"Um."
"reason?"
"Schedule conflict," Zeng Hao said. "During the filming of 'Ning An Ru Meng,' I have a record of your weekly schedule. I can just fill in any day and they won't find any fault with it."
Peng Bing tapped his fingers on the table twice and stared at Zeng Hao for a while.
"Did you anticipate this situation when you included this clause in the contract?"
Zeng Hao picked up the storyboard, turned to the first page, and pushed it back to him.
"That's how the contract should be written."
Peng Bing took the storyboard, got up and walked out. He didn't turn back when he reached the door, leaving behind the words, "You've thought of everything."
Zeng Hao has picked up the schedule again.
The door closed gently behind me.
Xu Wen knocked before entering, carrying two cups of tea. He placed one on Zeng Hao's desk and took the other for himself, sitting down in the chair opposite him, clearly intending to chat for a while.
"Director Peng is gone?"
"Um."
"Did they manage to block Galaxy Capital this time?"
"The forum route is blocked." Zeng Hao flipped through the schedule. "They'll find another way."
Xu Wen placed the teacup on the table, holding it with both hands, and thought for a moment: "How many times have they changed their direction? Financing, equity, screenwriting, directing—"
Four times.
"I never got anything out of it."
"Um."
Xu Wen looked down at the tea in his cup, his lips twitching slightly. "Then why won't they give up? I would have given up long ago."
"Because they believe this project can make money," Zeng Hao said. "Their judgment hasn't changed, which is why they keep changing their methods."
Xu Wen pondered this for a moment, then looked up and asked, "Then why were they so certain they could make money? 'Ning An Ru Meng' hadn't even been officially announced yet."
Zeng Hao didn't respond to that, and continued flipping through the progress chart.
Xu Wen stared at him for two seconds, knowing he didn't want to talk, picked up his teacup, took a sip, and changed the subject: "As for Xue Zhiqian, the channel you asked me to make the appointment for, I've made the appointment, and the other party said we can meet next week."
Zeng Hao raised his head.
"It's an external liaison for the Spring Festival Gala production team," Xu Wen said. "It's not through official channels, but through a contact person arranged by an industry association. Whether it will work out is still uncertain, but at least we can meet the person."
"See you there," Zeng Hao said. "Compile Xue Zhiqian's data from the past year, including streaming data for 'Ugly Monster,' his chart-topping period, and the number of organic topics on Weibo. List them separately, one page will suffice. Bring it with you when we meet."
Xu Wen made a note on his phone, then looked up and asked, "Is Xue Zhiqian going by himself?"
"No need, I'll go."
Xu Wen was taken aback: "You're going in person?"
"Um."
She put her phone away, picked up her teacup, stood up, walked to the door, and turned back: "Does Xue Zhiqian know you're helping him promote the Spring Festival Gala?"
"have no idea."
"...You're not going to tell him?"
"If it works, he'll know." Zeng Hao looked down at the progress chart. "If it doesn't work, there's no point in telling him."
Xu Wen understood the logic, nodded, and went out the door.
...
The crew of "What Kind of Conduct" is filming the final few scenes this week.
Chu Ran's chat log was first sent by Tian Xiwei to Xu Wen, who then forwarded it to Zeng Hao, adding the comment: "Take a look, you can calculate the time."
Tian Xiwei: When will you wrap up filming?
Chu Ran: There are three games left this week.
Tian Xiwei: What will you do after filming wraps up?
Chu Ran: Going back to school means I'll have to make up a ton of classes next semester. I took too many leave last semester, and I've completely fallen behind in two courses.
Tian Xiwei: Which two doors?
Chu Ran: Drama History and Performance Psychology. Drama History is alright; I can just borrow some notes and memorize them. But the Performance Psychology professor doesn't take attendance, and there's a paper due at the end of the semester. I have absolutely no idea what to write about.
Tian Xiwei: Just write about your acting experience, combining theory with practice.
Chu Ran: I've thought about it too, but I don't know how to relate the things that happen on set to academic topics.
Tian Xiwei: When you filmed that crying scene in "What Kind of Figures," you shot it four times in a row, and you wrote down the mechanism for evoking emotions.
Chu Ran: ...This actually seems to work.
Tian Xiwei: Look, you have so much more material than me. What am I supposed to write about in my paper? I didn't cry four times in a row.
Chu Ran: Your physique is better than mine.
Tian Xiwei: Physical form doesn't require writing papers
Chu Ran: Then you're good at vocals.
Tian Xiwei: Vocal performance doesn't require academic papers.
Chu Ran: ...I'll help you figure it out.
Tian Xiwei: Forget it, take care of yourself first. Oh, and you have to treat me to dinner after filming wraps up.
Chu Ran: Okay, you choose the place.
Tian Xiwei: The hot pot restaurant next to the Shanghai Theatre Academy
Chu Ran: No problem, you can make a reservation.
Tian Xiwei: Okay, remember to wear your red coat then, I'd like to borrow it.
Chu Ran: That one belonged to the costume department of the production crew; I've already returned it.
Tian Xiwei: ...Then just bring anything nice.
Zeng Hao finished reading the long chat and tossed his phone aside.
Filming has wrapped up, and she needs to go back to school to catch up on her lessons.
A thesis on performance psychology; I reckon she'll actually write that crying scene.
He flipped to the post-production page for "What a Disgrace," and calculated the timeline against the wrap-up date and delivery deadline. The time was tight, but still enough.
Xu Wen shouted from outside, "Chu Ran said she's treating Tian Xiwei to hot pot after filming wraps up, want to—"
"Don't worry about it."
"...I just wanted to let you know."
In the afternoon, Sister Liu sent over this week's expense report.
In the first week of filming for "Ning An Ru Meng," the cost of locations, personnel, equipment, props, and other miscellaneous items totaled 2.3 million yuan. Progress was on schedule and within budget.
The money in the account is slowly disappearing.
After reviewing the report, Zeng Hao replied with only one word: "I know."
There was no further reply from Sister Liu, so the matter of the accounts was considered closed.
According to the contract, payment for "What Kind of Conduct" will not be settled until 90 days after its broadcast. The earliest broadcast date is the end of the year, and the earliest payment will not be received is the first quarter of next year.
During this lull, we need to rely on the existing funds in the account, while continuing to invest money in "Ning An Ru Meng".
This pace was part of his plan, so there's nothing wrong with it.
Even with plans in place, the pressure is still immense.
He folded the expense reports and placed them under the progress chart, then picked up the remaining unread documents on the table.
Just before I was about to leave work, Xu Wen sent me a message.
It wasn't sent through the work group; it was sent privately, and the tone was much more cautious than usual.
"There's something I'm not sure I should tell you. If I do, I'm afraid I'll overthink it, but if I don't, I feel like you need to know."
After reading it, Zeng Hao replied with a single word: "Say it."
Xu Wen followed up with a second message: "Yang Shanshan privately discussed an independent collaboration with a brand last week, bypassing the company's channels. She handled it directly herself. I heard this from Sister Liu, it's not a formal report, but Sister Liu let it slip that Yang Shanshan had some money deposited into her personal account last week, instead of going through the company's official account."
Zeng Hao read the message over and over.
"Also," Xu Wen immediately followed up with his third message, "I checked the brand's parent company, and it's Xinglan Investment, whose shareholders include affiliates of Xinghe Capital. I don't know if it's a coincidence, but you can decide for yourself."
Zeng Hao put down his phone, then picked it up again and went over Xu Wen's three sentences from the beginning.
Yang Shanshan.
The funds were received through a personal account, bypassing the company, and the partner brands were also associated with Galaxy Capital.
Each of these three things, taken individually, can be easily explained away.
But when they're put together, it's not so easy to explain.
He placed his phone face down on the table. Xu Wen was still waiting for his reply outside. After almost two minutes, he sent another message: Did you see it?
Zeng Hao picked up his phone, glanced at it, locked the screen, and flipped it back down.
contract.
He mentally reviewed Yang Shanshan's contract terms: exclusive agency agreement, brand collaborations requiring company approval, and personal commercial income to be included in the company's profit-sharing scheme.
She hit two out of the three.
...
The teahouse private room was small, with only two chairs and a tea table.
Sitting opposite Zeng Hao was Mr. Wu, a man in his early fifties. His hair was neatly combed, and his suit, though old, was perfectly pressed. He was holding a teacup, and he only glanced up briefly when Zeng Hao entered.
Zeng Hao sat down opposite him and pushed the paper over.
Wu Lianluo pushed up his glasses and looked down to scan the area.
There was no heading or logo on the paper, just a few dry columns of numbers. The streaming views of "Ugly Monster," the length of time it stayed on the trending charts, and the weekly average of its organic topics on Weibo were displayed in three columns side by side, with data comparisons to other artists on the far right.
Wu Lianlu stared at the last column of comparison numbers, his teacup remaining untouched for a long time.
Zeng Hao didn't urge him, but picked up his cup and took a sip. The Longjing tea in the teahouse was this year's new tea; the aroma was alright, but the aftertaste was a bit short.
Wu Lianluo turned the paper over; the back was blank. He turned it back over and looked at it again.
"This is natural buzz, you didn't buy any trending topics?" he asked, looking up.
"No push."
"The trending songs chart has been up for seventeen weeks, is the chart position real?"
"I've taken a screenshot on my phone, so I can access it anytime I want."
Wu Lianluo placed the paper on the coffee table, took a sip of his drink, and remained silent.
Zeng Hao knew exactly what was going on. He'd been in the industry for twenty years and had seen plenty of people trying to negotiate deals with inflated data. His first reaction was always to find fault. They could fabricate the time spent on the charts, buy the number of topics, and even inflate the number of views, but if the three sets of data were put together and the proportions didn't match or the pacing was off, the fraud would be exposed immediately.
Wu Lianlu went through the three sets of numbers in his mind but couldn't find any flaws, hence the expression on his face.
"Is he the only singer your company is currently promoting?"
"One of our top recommendations."
"What about the others?"
"We will not use this channel for the time being."
Wu Lianlu nodded, then picked up the paper again and pointed to the view count column: "Is it exclusive to YiNet or distributed through other platforms?"
"Exclusively available on NetEase, distributed to other platforms."
How much time is left on the exclusive contract?
Zeng Hao, holding the cup, didn't rush to answer. He gently put the cup down before speaking: "It's enough."
Wu Lianluo looked up and met his gaze for a second, smiled, folded the paper, and placed it under the teacup.
"I can't guarantee anything, you know that."
"clear."
"I can only give you the direction." He pointed to the paper. "This data is fine. It has a wide audience, and the natural buzz indicates that the retention rate is real, not just a result of throwing money at it. I can pass on a message to the production team, but their final decision is not up to me."
Zeng Hao: "That's enough."
Wu Lianlu glanced at him again, as if he had something else to say, but in the end he just nodded and picked up his teacup.
The tea lasted less than forty minutes, and there wasn't a single wasted word. When Wu Lianlu left, he put the paper in his suit pocket.
Zeng Hao sat in the private room for a while longer and finished the remaining half cup of Longjing tea.
Xue Zhijian was unaware of today's meeting. Nor did he need to know.
If it succeeds, he naturally knows who gave him the push. If it fails, there's no point in talking about it.
Even if the deal were to go through, Xue Zhijian would most likely just remark, "The boss personally ran the business; that's really generous," never imagining that the window for contract renewal would fall just three months after the Spring Festival Gala aired.
Renewing a contract before the Spring Festival Gala has one price. Renewing it after the Spring Festival Gala has a different price.
He can figure out the score himself.
Meanwhile, the two friends were worrying about their papers.
Tian Xiwei: How much of your thesis have you written?
Chu Ran: I just started writing, but I couldn't continue. I sat in the library for two hours and only managed to squeeze out four hundred words.
Tian Xiwei: Four hundred words... That won't do.
Chu Ran: I know it won't work, but it's too difficult to write crying scenes academically. As you write, it just becomes a diary entry—I cried, I cried again, and I cried again.
Tian Xiwei: Then you should write about why you were able to cry, the root of your emotions, the way you were triggered, what's that word again?
Chu Ran: Emotional memories.
Tian Xiwei: Yes, that's the angle to write from. Specifically, for a particular scene, what detail brought you into the scene, and what were you thinking before you cried?
Chu Ran: ...You know this?
Tian Xiwei: I don't understand, but I just searched it on Baidu.
Chu Ran: ...Why do I feel like you've taught me a lesson?
Tian Xiwei: Remember, you owe me a hot pot meal.
Chu Ran: Okay, wait until I've made these four hundred words into four thousand before you urge me again.
Tian Xiwei: Can you finish writing it?
Chu Ran: I can finish writing it. My psychology professor at the Shanghai Theatre Academy once said that emotional memories are easy to write about if you have real experiences, and I have plenty of material.
Tian Xiwei: That's fine, I'll wait for you.
Chu Ran: Oh right, that red coat you mentioned last time.
Tian Xiwei: Still not giving up? I returned that item; you said so yourself.
Chu Ran: I was talking about another one. My mom bought it for me. I brought it to the set but haven't worn it yet. If you want it, just come to the dorm to get it.
Tian Xiwei: Why didn't you say so earlier! I'll go get it right now.
...
As soon as Zeng Hao returned to the company, Xu Wen was waiting for him at the door, looking much more serious than usual.
"I checked Yang Shanshan's side again, and it's not just the last transaction."
Zeng Hao glanced at her, said nothing, and walked straight inside.
Xu Wen followed behind, lowering his voice: "It's the same brand again. They transferred money again last week, to a private account, and the amount was even more than last time. I had Sister Liu check the company's bank statements, and there's no record of this deposit in the company account at all."
Zeng Hao sat down at his desk.
"The parent company behind the brand," Xu Wen continued, "I dug one layer higher, and among the major shareholders of Xinglan Investment, there is a fund registered in the Cayman Islands, whose manager is a former partner of Xinghe Capital, who just left in March of this year."
Zeng Hao moved the folder on the table, pulled out Yang Shanshan's agency contract from underneath, and turned to page seven.
Exclusive agency agreement, brand cooperation requires written approval from the company, and personal business income is to be transferred to the company in proportion.
Two sums of money, two instances of circumventing the company, crossing both red lines.
"Have her come over here."
Xu Wen was taken aback: "Now?"
"Um."
Xu Wen turned and left.
Zeng Hao flipped to the last page of the contract, glanced at her signature, then flipped back to page seven and spread it out on the table.
When Yang Shanshan pushed the door open and came in, her expression looked perfectly normal.
It was the kind of professional normalcy she displayed; upon seeing Zeng Hao, the corners of her mouth slightly turned up, and her tone was relaxed: "Mr. Zeng, you wanted to see me?"
Zeng Hao didn't look up. He reached out and pushed the contract to the middle of the table, so that it landed right where she could see it.
The seventh item was displayed, with the brand name, the dates of the two payments, and the amounts clearly marked in highlighter.
Yang Shanshan glanced down at it.
Just one glance.
Her face didn't break down, but the deliberate smile in the corner of her eye faded.
Zeng Hao then looked up at her.
"Yang Shanshan," he said, his tone unchanged, "do you know what Article Thirteen of the contract says?"
"I've known that brand for many years," Yang Shanshan said, more composed than Zeng Hao had expected. "It was just a private meal and a chat, nothing more than a formal business meeting."
Zeng Hao didn't move; the contract remained spread out on page seven.
"The money was transferred to a private account, what do you mean by that?"
Yang Shanshan paused for half a second, a brief but obvious pause.
"They said private transfers were convenient, and I didn't think much of it."
"Two contracts." Zeng Hao pushed the contracts toward her again. "Eighteen days apart, both were for private clients, and neither went through the company's approval process."
Yang Shanshan glanced down at the contract, and when she looked up again, her professional fake smile had faded to almost nothing.
"Mr. Zeng, I admit I didn't handle this properly," she said, her tone softening. "But the amount isn't large, and I didn't intentionally hide it from the company. I just felt it was a minor matter and there was no need to go through the full procedure—"
"Article Thirteen," Zeng Hao interrupted directly.
Yang Shanshan shut her mouth.
"Article Thirteen of the contract," Zeng Hao said calmly, "For any business dealings conducted in a personal capacity, regardless of the amount, a written report must be submitted to the company within seven working days. Failure to do so constitutes a breach of contract, and the company has the right to recover all income and claim liquidated damages." He flipped the contract to Article Thirteen and pushed it over, "You can calculate how many working days have passed since the first payment."
Yang Shanshan stared at the terms and conditions for a few seconds.
This time, he didn't respond immediately.
Zeng Hao picked up his teacup, took a sip, and waited for her.
When she looked up again, her composure was forced.
"Mr. Zeng, I know I handled this matter incorrectly."
"Um."
"So you mean...?"
"Sign a supplementary confirmation letter." Zeng Hao pushed over a single sheet of paper that had been prepared earlier. "Write down the amount, source, and handling method of both payments clearly. According to the contract, the portion that should be deposited into the company account should arrive within this week, and then this matter will be over."
Yang Shanshan looked at the paper but didn't move.
Zeng Hao didn't urge him. He put down his teacup and picked up another document to look through.
The office was quiet for almost half a minute.
Yang Shanshan finally picked up her pen.
His hand was steady as he signed, each stroke of his name deliberate and identical to usual. After signing, he pushed the confirmation letter back, stood up, and nodded to Zeng Hao: "Then I'll go get back to work."
"Um."
She walked out with her back straight and her steps steady.
The door closed gently.
A moment later, Xu Wen poked his head in, glanced at the confirmation letter on the table, and then looked at Zeng Hao.
"Signed?"
"Um."
Xu Wen walked in, picked up the confirmation letter, glanced at it, put it down, and shook his head: "You've been polite enough to her. If it were me, I would have directly asked for the penalty for breach of contract according to Article Thirteen."
"Go and urge Peng Bing; the filming schedule for this week hasn't been submitted yet."
Xu Wen swallowed the words he was about to say, turned around and left.
Zeng Hao folded the confirmation letter and pressed it back under the contract.
kind.
This word has nothing to do with his decision today.
During the promotional period for "Ning An Ru Meng," Yang Shanshan still had considerable influence. Losing one artist meant one less main storyline in the pre-premiere promotional materials. Now that things have turned sour, the losses are real. They need to weather the promotional period first; the consequences won't be ignored.
He picked up the schedule and turned to this week's page.
...
On the film set, Chu Ran is filming a scene with her today.
This was before Yu Wanyin noticed that something was wrong with Hua Hua.
The play is short, just two pages of lyrics, but the emotions are very subtle.
Chu Ran sat in the waiting area, with two things beside her: a script and an ordinary loose-leaf notebook. The notebook was open to a page with over three hundred words written on it, the handwriting dense and numerous, and several corrections made.
As Peng Bing passed by, he caught a glimpse of the notebook out of the corner of his eye and stopped in his tracks.
"What should I write?"
Chu Ran closed her notebook and moved to the side: "Schoolwork."
"I'm filming and writing my thesis at the same time." Peng Bing said casually, and then left.
Chu Ran stuffed the notebook into her bag, looked up, and saw Zeng Hao coming from the other side, holding a shooting schedule in his hand. He stopped next to her, looking down at his watch, without looking at her.
How many games do you have left today?
"Two scenes. After this one is filmed, there are still scenes with Hua Hua later on. I don't have many scenes."
Did Hua Hua have any lines in that scene?
"No, I'm just standing over there." She paused. "Why are you asking?"
"It's nothing." He turned the page and didn't say anything more.
Chu Ran glanced at him, then picked up the script again and began to memorize it silently.
After reciting only a couple of lines, he looked up again and asked, "Have you eaten?"
"Um."
"The crew's boxed lunches?"
"Um."
Chu Ran put down the script, took a bag out of her bag, placed it on the folding chair next to her, and pushed it towards him.
"I bought the osmanthus cake from that shop in Qianhu City this morning when I passed by. It's sweet, so you might not like it, but it's okay if you don't eat it."
Zeng Hao glanced down at it but didn't move.
Chu Ran didn't say anything more and continued memorizing her lines.
A while later, one piece of the osmanthus cake was missing from the bag.
She didn't look up, but the corners of her mouth subtly curved upwards as she continued reciting her lines.
In the afternoon, Xu Wen sent over the news from Dingsheng. This time, they changed their approach, not mentioning the male lead's qualifications, but instead questioning the production costs.
The message was delivered in a very polite manner, roughly meaning that "the budget for a certain period drama project does not match the promotional budget, and industry insiders are concerned about the final quality." It was posted on an entertainment observation account and was forwarded over a thousand times in two hours.
Xu Wen's message was followed by a string of question marks.
Zeng Hao read the article from beginning to end, put down his phone, and took out a single-page document from the drawer.
This thing was prepared two weeks ago, and I've been waiting to use it now.
The production details of "Ning An Ru Meng" are listed on a single page, clearly outlining the photography team, main camera model, post-production special effects budget percentage, and total investment in costumes, props, and sets. Each item is accompanied by an industry average comparison for similar dramas.
The numbers speak for themselves; no further explanation is needed.
He took a picture and sent it to Chen Business, with only one sentence: If it's convenient today, I'll forward it to your content team.
Chen replied immediately: No problem, I'll send it tonight.
Zeng Hao placed his phone face down on the table.
Industry insiders who release press releases questioning production standards exploit information asymmetry. Viewers are unaware of the actual data, so vague and smear campaigns seem more convincing. Presenting the real data would debunk the rumors, eliminating the need for further clarification.
By this time tomorrow, that article from Dingsheng will basically be dead.
Xu Wen sent another message: Did you prepare this a long time ago?
Zeng Hao did not reply to the message.
She sent another message: Okay, I got it, you always do this.
It was getting dark outside. The crew of "Ning An Ru Meng" was going to shoot a night scene tonight, and the lights in the studio had already been tested.
Peng Bing stood next to the monitor, whispering something to the cameraman. He made an arc with his hand in the air, and the cameraman nodded and began to adjust the camera angle.
Zhang Linghe leaned against the set, silently rehearsing, his head down, his lips moving slightly, as if he were reciting lines.
Zeng Hao folded the production specifications sheet and put it back in the drawer.
Xu Wen poked his head in from the doorway: "The progress schedule you asked me to urge, Peng Bing said it would be sent this morning, and it can't be finished today."
"Um."
"Are you just going to let things go with Dingsheng like that?"
"Waiting for it to air."
Xu Wen looked at him, waiting for him to continue.
He didn't say anything more, and picked up another document from the table.
The studio lights were warm and gentle, shining on Zhang Linghe's gray-blue theatrical costume. The silk fabric caught half of the light, while the other half was scattered in the shadows of the set.
This scene is Xie Ju'an performing alone in his study at night. He has no co-star, just him, a table, a lamp, and two pages of lines.
The content was simple: Xie Ju'an received a letter, opened it, read it, and then folded it back up.
The key lies in that moment of stacking the letters.
Before filming began, Peng Bing only told him one thing: "When you fold the letter back, you need to know in your heart that no one will ever open it again."
Zhang Linghe didn't answer. He looked down at the prop envelope in his hand, walked into the set, and sat down at the table.
"preparation--"
"Action!"
He picked up the letter, unfolded it, and scanned it from top to bottom, stopping at the last line, pausing for three seconds longer than usual.
Then I started folding the letters.
The movements were slow, with two folds, each fold pressed flat and neat, as if trying to press all the words in the letter into the cracks of the paper so that they would never escape.
Finally, he stuffed the letter back into the envelope and placed it on the table. He had just moved his hand halfway away when he paused, his fingertips lightly touching the edge of the envelope before withdrawing it.
Peng Bing did not immediately call a halt.
The photographer took a half step forward, and the camera followed the arc of the hand as it retracted, shooting for almost twelve more seconds.
The shed was quiet.
Peng Bingcai spoke, uttering only one word: "Pass."
Zhang Linghe walked out of the set, his expression back to normal, and nodded to Peng Bing.
Zeng Hao stood by the monitor and played the replay from the moment he opened the letter to the moment he lightly touched the screen and pressed pause.
This detail wasn't in the script; Zhang Linghe added it himself.
It was added just right.
Peng Bing walked over, glanced at the monitor, didn't say much, and turned to the assistant director: "Next scene."
Chen's message came before lunch, his tone was lighter than usual, and he also attached three screenshots.
The first image is a follow-up report from an industry media outlet, titled "Is the Era of High-Quality Historical Dramas Coming? A Project's Production Specification Sheet Sparks Heated Discussion in the Industry." The article breaks down and analyzes the production data, concluding that among similar projects, this drama's post-production budget is significantly higher than the industry average, demonstrating considerable sincerity.
The second image shows internal pre-registration data from the platform. Within eighteen hours of the production specifications being revealed, pre-registrations for "Ning An Ru Meng" surged by nearly 400,000. Chen Shangwu added a comment below the screenshot: "This growth rate is unmatched by any other game in the same period."
The third image shows what the previous questioning post looks like now. The comment section has been flooded with industry data posts. There was a comment under the original post that said, "I suggest the editor take a look at the specifications sheet before speaking," which received over three thousand likes.
After looking at the three pictures, Zeng Hao replied to Chen Shangwu with just two words: "Understood."
Chen replied a minute later: That's it? Aren't you excited?
Zeng Hao placed his phone face down on the table and ignored him.
Xu Wen brought in two boxed lunches, placed one on Zeng Hao's table, took the other and sat down. Before even unpacking his chopsticks, he pushed his phone over, saying, "Take a look."
It is a screenshot of the chat history between Tian Xiwei and Chu Ran.
Tian Xiwei: How many papers have you written?
Chu Ran: I've written 1200 words. I stayed up until midnight last night. My acting teacher said I'm in better shape than last semester.
Tian Xiwei: From filming
Chu Ran: I think so too. After actually filming and then returning to the classroom, many things feel different.
Tian Xiwei: Then you should thank Zeng Hao.
Chu Ran: What are you thanking me for? He didn't teach me.
Tian Xiwei: He gave you the opportunity to film it.
Chu Ran: That's a contract, it's a job.
Tian Xiwei: ...You...
Chu Ran: I'll treat you to hot pot after I finish my thesis. You choose the place.
Tian Xiwei: It's booked, the one next to the Shanghai Theatre Academy, Friday night. Do you think you can make it?
Chu Ran: There's enough time, I don't have class on Friday afternoon.
Tian Xiwei: Okay, see you on Friday. Remember to wear that coat.
Chu Ran: I brought it.
After Zeng Hao finished reading, he pushed the phone back and disassembled the chopsticks.
Xu Wen lifted the lid of his lunchbox, picked up a bite of food, and mumbled, "Did you hear that? Chu Ran said her concentration in class has improved."
"Um."
"Don't you think this is your achievement?"
"It's a contract, isn't it?"
Xu Wen paused, glanced up at him, then looked down at his food again, muttering under his breath, "Contract, contract, that's all you ever say."
Zeng Hao didn't respond, quickly finished his boxed lunch, and pushed the empty box aside.