After Transmigrated as a Black-Hearted Entertainment Boss [Transmigration] - Chapter 16

In the General Manager’s office, Su Jiqiu curled up on the sofa, clutching three project proposals with a long, melancholic face.

A moment ago, he wanted to use the excuse of going to the bathroom to slip down to the first floor to find Gu Nan. Who would have thought Young CEO Tao would point to a door right next to them and tell him to handle his business there? It wasn’t until he stepped inside that he realized it was the General Manager’s private restroom.

When he came out, Tao Zui went so far as to add that if he wanted a nap, there was a private lounge, and if he was thirsty, there was a water bar right in the office. In short: Don’t even think about leaving his line of sight.

Left with no alternative, Su Jiqiu huddled on the sofa, racking his brain to figure out which one Brother Nan would choose.

The legal film was advancing the fastest; if all went smoothly, the crew would start filming immediately. Brother Nan would probably choose that one, right?

In his memory, there hadn’t been a single good domestic fantasy film. Choosing that was too high a risk.

As for the web drama, it was hard to say if it would even get approved… But Fangyuan Culture was undeniably famous and frequently produced hit shows. Betting on the production company’s reputation made it worth a shot…

“Qiu-qiu.”

“Huh?”

Su Jiqiu raised his head and looked at Tao Zui, who was sitting behind the massive office desk. He found the other man’s eyes glued to the computer screen; it seemed he had just called his name casually.

Before he could ask what was wrong, Tao Zui said leisurely, “Worrying too much causes hair loss, you know.”

Su Jiqiu: “…”

Tao Zui leaned back in his executive chair, his gaze landing on the youth in black-rimmed glasses. “I know you and Gu Nan are as close as brothers. He’s looked after you guys for a year, and you’re deeply grateful, so you don’t want to compete with him. But have you ever considered Gu Nan’s feelings? He cares for you like a real younger brother—do you think he hopes that one day you’ll just step aside and hand him a Movie Star title? Are you looking down on Gu Nan, or are you overestimating yourself?”

With that, he buried himself back in his work, leaving Su Jiqiu with a face alternating between red and white, biting his lip in prolonged silence.

After a long while, Su Jiqiu stacked the three separated proposals back together and began to carefully deliberate over each one.

His professors had analyzed legal films extensively during class. It wasn’t that masterworks didn’t exist, but most had issues starting from the scriptwriting phase; even those that bought foreign copyrights suffered from poor localization. This genre didn’t easily yield top-tier works, but it rarely produced absolute trash either. For a newcomer, it was actually a very solid choice that offered a lot to learn.

Placing Criminal Litigation at the bottom of the stack, Su Jiqiu looked at the newly revealed proposal for The Afterlife.

To be honest, the plot summary for this movie was highly intriguing; just a few lines showed the director’s ambition. Furthermore, after watching the CG short created by the director, Su Jiqiu had to admit that if The Afterlife could replicate that texture, it would indeed be exceptionally captivating.

The issue was the massive chasm between a CG short film and a live-action feature. Unbridled imagination could easily be realized through a computer, but fusing it seamlessly with live-action footage was entirely different.

This wasn’t merely a matter of aesthetics or cinematography; it involved the far more complex issue of film industrialization.

Not to mention the various inherent problems plaguing the fantasy genre itself.

If the concept was too Westernized, it failed to connect with local culture; if it drew too heavily from local culture, it easily fell into the awkward trap of “old wine in a new bottle,” causing the subsequent plot to lose its grip on the audience. Even if all that was resolved, special effects design and production posed yet another massive hurdle.

Moreover, the concepts expressed in the plot summary were massive, and the director had no substantive past works to speak of, making it hard to say if he could handle it. The probability of it being a total flop was as high as 90%…

Setting The Afterlife aside, that left The Case Files of Dali Temple.

Truthfully, compared to Criminal Litigation, Su Jiqiu preferred The Case Files of Dali Temple because Tao Zui had mentioned that Yao Qiang from Fangyuan Culture would help push this web drama through the approval process.

Acting students were required by their professors to watch a massive volume of films and television series outside of their regular classes. The roaster of titles was enough to make a person question their life choices, so most students only picked what interested them. Among the series Su Jiqiu had watched, one had been directed by Yao Qiang.

It was an urban slice-of-life drama broadcast on a major satellite TV network. It had performed exceptionally well; while it didn’t become a viral phenomenon, it was a major hit, securing the annual viewership crown for that network. The entire series was fast-paced with strong logic; it inevitably had dramatic elements, but it lacked any “brain-dead” plot devices, and the pacing of the emotional payoffs was handled perfectly.

If he remembered correctly, when Yao Qiang directed that series, he was still employed at Taoli Entertainment.

To be able to direct such a show under the elder CEO Tao, Yao Qiang’s capabilities were beyond doubt. Now that he was at Fangyuan Culture, he should be even more in his element. Furthermore, Fangyuan Culture was famous in the industry for not letting dramas sit on the shelf; they had an exceptional capacity to get shows broadcast.

If he could act in a project directed by Yao Qiang, it would be highly beneficial for his future network.

Having made his decision, Su Jiqiu picked up the proposals for Criminal Litigation and The Case Files of Dali Temple, stealing a quiet glance at Tao Zui, who still appeared completely engrossed in his work.

“Chosen?” Tao Zui asked suddenly.

Su Jiqiu jumped slightly, giving a hesitant “Mm.”

Tao Zui tore his eyes away from the mountain of project proposals. “Since you’ve chosen, don’t hesitate. Bring them over and let me look.”

Su Jiqiu bit his lip, stood up, walked to the desk, and handed the two proposals to Tao Zui.

Tao Zui glanced at the covers, confirming which two projects Su Jiqiu had selected. Raising an eyebrow, he said, “Criminal Litigation is projected to start filming in June. If The Case Files of Dali Temple gets approved, it will likely start around July or August. If the two projects conflict, which one do you choose?”

Su Jiqiu lowered his head in thought for a moment. “…The Case Files of Dali Temple.”

Tao Zui: “Why?”

Su Jiqiu: “Criminal Litigation’s filming schedule happens to clash directly with my final exam month. Plus, the school rules state that freshmen and sophomores aren’t supposed to take outside roles. There are only two or three months left in the term; breaking the rules at this point might affect my scholarship.”

Tao Zui laughed. “How much is a scholarship even worth? An actor’s salary is way higher than that—don’t lose the greater for the less! Alright, I got it. Go amuse yourself. We’ll discuss the details after we meet up with Gu Nan when we clock out.”

“Okay. Then, the phone…” Su Jiqiu eyed his and Gu Nan’s phones sitting next to Tao Zui’s hand.

“Amuse yourself with a phone? Go do your homework.” Tao Zui ruthlessly rejected Su Jiqiu’s attempt to reclaim his device, turning back to look at the dense casting calls and project proposals on his computer.

“…Oh.” Didn’t you just tell me to go amuse myself?

Su Jiqiu obediently returned to the sofa and sat down, picking up his tablet. A sudden sense of lightness washed over him. Previously, he had constantly been worrying about what Brother Nan would choose, terrified of picking the same thing, which had imposed a heavy psychological burden. By completely tossing those worries aside and choosing only what he wanted, his entire being felt relaxed.

This is probably what Young CEO Tao meant by doing right by yourself and respecting your opponent, right?

Soon it was time to clock out. Tao Zui led Su Jiqiu down the elevator to the first floor, happening to catch Gu Nan walking out of the meeting room.

The moment he saw him, Tao Zui extended his hand. “You’ve chosen, right? Let me see.”

Gu Nan stepped forward, handed the selected proposals to Tao Zui, and took the opportunity to steal a glance at Su Jiqiu.

Faced with that gaze, the hairs on the back of Su Jiqiu’s neck stood up, his head filling with question marks. What did this gaze mean? It wasn’t exactly angry, but it carried an inexplicable layer of scrutiny, as if Su Jiqiu had done something guilty… But he hadn’t done anything at all!

Before he could make sense of it, he heard Tao Zui let out a soft chuckle.

“The Afterlife? I didn’t expect you to have such a strong gambling streak.”

Hearing the phrase “gambling streak,” Gu Nan’s brow furrowed. “It’s not a gambling streak. After watching the director’s CG short, I feel he has great ideas and an excellent aesthetic. Moreover, the worldview in the short aligns perfectly with the film’s concept. If the final effect of the movie can match the level of the short, it will at least open a new chapter for Chinese cinema in terms of visual presentation.”

Having never heard Gu Nan speak so many words at once, Tao Zui was somewhat surprised. But he quickly thought of Gu Nan’s gambler father. A flash of chagrin crossed his eyes, and he immediately corrected himself: “I understand… That’s also the reason I didn’t give up on The Afterlife. Sometimes, to accomplish something, you must possess a bit of an adventurous spirit. Worrying too much and thinking too much will only cause you to miss opportunities.”

Finishing his sentences at a slightly rapid pace, Tao Zui steadied his mind and gestured casually toward the exit. “Let’s go. Home first.”

The trio walked toward the parking lot. Su Jiqiu followed behind Tao Zui and Gu Nan, looking at one and then the other, the question marks on his forehead multiplying.

Why did Young CEO Tao seem a bit panicked just now? Brother Nan’s state was off a moment ago too, though fortunately he’s calmed down now… I get the feeling they are hiding something…

And what Gu Nan handed to Young CEO Tao should have been two documents, right? What exactly was the other one? I want to know so badly!

Fortunately, once they were on the road, Tao Zui revealed the answer. “However, even though an adventurous spirit is necessary, I still have to ask clearly—the two you chose, The Afterlife and The Case Files of Dali Temple, are highly likely to have a schedule conflict. If you can only choose one, which one do you pick?”

The Case Files of Dali Temple!

Just as that thought flashed through Su Jiqiu’s mind, he heard Gu Nan answer without a shred of hesitation: “The Afterlife.”

“The Afterlife? Why?” Su Jiqiu had an even bigger reaction than Tao Zui, gripping the back of the driver’s seat and saying anxiously, “The probability of The Afterlife flopping is too high! Instead of taking such a massive risk, it’s better to choose The Case Files of Dali Temple! The production company for this drama is Fangyuan Culture, and Director Yao Qiang will help push for its approval. If he acts as the director, this drama will definitely not be bad!”

Sitting in the passenger seat, Gu Nan turned back to glance at him, a look of realization dawning in his eyes, though his tone remained completely unruffled. “But The Case Files of Dali Temple hasn’t even been approved yet. Furthermore, A-rank web dramas have limited funding, so the costumes and makeup will pose a major problem.”

Su Jiqiu: “It’s the same for The Afterlife! Special effects burn the most money, and The Afterlife is a fantasy film! If there isn’t massive financial backing, once the effects fail, the movie fails!”

Gu Nan: “Since it’s been approved, I imagine funding won’t be an issue.”

Su Jiqiu: “If there’s no issue, why hasn’t it started filming for two years?”

“Stop!” Tao Zui shouted, looking caught between tears and laughter. “Qiu-qiu, didn’t you choose The Case Files of Dali Temple anyway? Isn’t it perfect that Gu Nan chose The Afterlife?”

Su Jiqiu: “But…”

“I know what you’re worried about, but don’t you still have me? Letting you choose is to respect your intentions, not to make you sign a deed of sale. It’s not like you must act in whatever you pick.”

Tao Zui stared at the road ahead, the corners of his lips curving slightly. “Rest assured, Papa won’t just sell you guys off so easily.”