After Transmigrated as a Black-Hearted Entertainment Boss [Transmigration] - Chapter 21

“If we can secure the investment, your guy will absolutely be our top choice,” Zhou Fanghong said as he drove the golf cart toward the main gates of the Oriental Movie Metropolis.

“Provided we get the investment and the investors don’t try to force their own people in,” Wang Dafa added as a supplementary clarification.

Tao Zui watched the gates draw closer. After a moment’s thought, he asked, “You mentioned earlier that you wanted a fifty-million-yuan investment. Is that much cash even enough to cover the post-production special effects?”

Wang Dafa let out a sigh. “It’s barely enough. But because of that, we can completely forget about hiring any big-name actors; we’ll just have to settle for scraping together some third- or fourth-tier talent. By the way, if we do finalize using your artist, his salary won’t be much either.”

Tao Zui nodded in understanding and said nothing more.

It wasn’t until the golf cart drove out of the studio lot and Tao Zui stood before the two cavemen that he spoke after careful deliberation. “If I were to invest fifty million yuan, can you guarantee the film’s level of completion?”

“Of course we can… Wait, you’re investing fifty million?!” Wang Dafa cried out in shock. His left foot tripped over his right, and he nearly tumbled off the golf cart.

Tao Zui quickly caught his arm, caught between tears and laughter. “I have that intention, so please don’t get too excited.”

“You… how can I not be excited when you have that intention! Come, come, please sit, please sit!” Wang Dafa jumped down from the cart, pulling at Tao Zui to get him to sit on the vehicle.

Tao Zui quickly waved his hands in refusal. “No need. Writer Wang, Director Zhou, to be blunt with you, I do have the money. I originally intended to invest in film and television projects anyway, but this capital is limited. I hope every single cent can be spent where it matters most. Previously, I harbored many doubts about The Afterlife. Even though I knew there was a misunderstanding between us, I didn’t point it out immediately and caused you to get your hopes up for nothing. I’m very sorry.”

“After reading the script, I believe you are people who genuinely want to make a great film, and I’ve seen your ambition to pioneer a new genre in Chinese cinema. I am willing to support you, and I also hope to catch a ride on your success to bring my artist to the forefront. This is a mutually beneficial, win-win collaboration. I hope we can treat each other with absolute sincerity moving forward for a successful partnership.”

Looking at Tao Zui’s extended hand, Zhou Fanghong’s eyes grew rimmed with red. He gripped his hand firmly. “Rest assured, CEO Tao. With those words of yours, we will definitely…”

“Make every single cent spent worth more than its value! So tell me, when will this money…” Wang Dafa threw his hand over Tao Zui and Zhou Fanghong’s clasped hands, his eyes shining as he stared at Tao Zui.

Tao Zui: “Probably around the end of the month. I’ll bring the actor over then for you two to look over, and he can also familiarize himself with the crew environment in advance.”

“The end of the month is great! The end of the month is excellent! Then we’ll be counting on you!” Wang Dafa hadn’t expected the funds to hit the account so quickly. His eyes crinkled into two narrow slits from his grin, and he gave their clasped hands a vigorous shake.

After discussing a few more matters related to the collaboration and exchanging WeChat contacts, Tao Zui left in a taxi. Zhou Fanghong and Wang Dafa stood at the entrance watching him go, not moving an inch even after his exhaust fumes were long gone.

“Hey, look at how things turned out. We talked about tricking a sucker into the soundstage, and we actually managed to trick fifty million out of him…” After a long while, Zhou Fanghong murmured.

“This is a win-win partnership; how can you call it tricking?” Wang Dafa said in dissatisfaction. “But is fifty million really enough?”

Zhou Fanghong’s eyes dimmed slightly. “…We’ll make do for now, and find another way later.”

Wang Dafa grew a bit anxious. “What other way could there be? You’ve already sold your house and car; your pockets are cleaner than your face right now. And the Zhou family is acting like that—where are you going to find more money?”

Zhou Fanghong turned and climbed onto the golf cart. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Helpless, Wang Dafa climbed in after him. “Seriously, what is that skinflint brother of yours thinking? You never even planned to compete with him!”

Zhou Fanghong let out a scoff, starting up the vehicle. “Who knows. Maybe he thinks I’m making this movie just to show off in front of the old man.”

“He must be out of his mind. As if anyone gives a damn… Without a good movie, no matter how powerful your theater chain is, can you make money? Day in and day out, all his energy is spent on petty family infighting. No wonder the old man doesn’t like him…”

Amid Wang Dafa’s grumbling, the golf cart drove through the studio lot gates and quickly vanished at the end of their vision.

Having reached a collaborative intent, Tao Zui booked the earliest flight back to North City. Just as he touched down, he received another piece of good news: The Case Files of Dali Temple was officially approved.

Over the phone, Yao Qiang’s voice was slightly distorted but couldn’t hide the joy in his tone. “I’m the director, and assembling the crew has been left to me too. The only thing is, the funding is a bit tight—it’s barely any better than a B-rank drama.”

Tao Zui flagged down a taxi while holding his phone to his ear, laughing. “A small budget isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Low salaries mean no big-name divas, so no one will start drama on set.”

“You really understand me! I expect the company thought the exact same way—they forced a newcomer in as the male lead. But I still have a say in the female lead and the second male lead. Hurry up and submit your portfolios so I can take a look.”

“My people will absolutely deliver. But is it that urgent? I thought it wouldn’t happen until late June at the earliest.” Tao Zui put on his Bluetooth earpiece, opened WeChat, and sent a message to Zhang Ling, telling her to forward Su Jiqiu’s portfolio to Yao Qiang.

“We start filming in late June, so of course I want to lock down the actors early. I don’t plan on spending too much thought on the costumes and makeup; we’ll just head down to Hengdian World Studios and handle it all in one go. I want to save more money for post-production and marketing.”

Thinking about the setting of The Case Files of Dali Temple, Tao Zui gave an affirmative response. “I’ll have the files sent to you in a bit. Once things are locked down, I’ll treat you to drinks.”

Yao Qiang: “Sure. If your guy doesn’t get picked, I’ll treat you to drinks.”

Tao Zui: “That won’t happen.”

Yao Qiang: “…Where on earth does this confidence of yours come from?”

From the original novel plot, of course.

After exchanging a few more jests with Yao Qiang, Tao Zui hung up, feeling his entire being lighten.

This must be what they mean by luck turning after hitting rock bottom, right? Even though he had to invest 50 million into The Afterlife, and The Case Files of Dali Temple had been downgraded from an A-rank drama to a B-rank one, at least everything was progressing in a positive direction. Furthermore, both The Afterlife and The Case Files of Dali Temple would require soundtracks, right? Maybe he could get the three younger boys a piece of that pie too?

Ever since the plot had veered off course, Tao Zui felt his own way of thinking had expanded along with it. No longer bound by the original plot trajectory, he wouldn’t let an opportunity slip by if he could seize it.

Besides, half of the romances for the three younger boys were handled internally, and the remaining one, Chen Xing, would meet a non-celebrity on a variety show after finding fame anyway. No matter how much he tinkered with things, those bonds wouldn’t break.

The only ones were Gu Nan and Su Jiqiu… The image of that piece of paper shoved in front of his face by Zhou Fanghong flashed through his mind, causing Tao Zui’s chest to tighten slightly.

Those familiar features gave him an uncanny feeling that destiny was at play. Even after losing the role of Bone, this world would still present everything to its male protagonist on a silver platter.

Resources were like this, and romance would be no different.

Tao Zui took a deep breath, suppressing a sudden swell of despondency in his chest, and focused his attention on the tasks that lay ahead.

Negotiating the investment and performance contracts, and taking Gu Nan to Qing City. Additionally, Su Jiqiu would likely join his crew even earlier than Gu Nan; he would definitely have to accompany him, but he would have to hand him over to someone else later. After all, he had invested so much money into The Afterlife—he had to keep a close eye on it.

If it were Gu Nan, he could completely just hire a temporary assistant for him and dust off his hands without a worry. But if it were Su Jiqiu… to be honest, he didn’t feel at ease.

Whether in terms of personal experience or mental maturity, Gu Nan was far superior to Su Jiqiu. Leaving someone like Su Jiqiu—who had grown up in an ivory tower and whose sole act of rebellion still landed him a ‘God-tier Dad’ roommate—alone in Hengdian was like tossing a white rabbit into a wolf’s den. Even if Yao Qiang was his friend, it was impossible for him to watch over the boy twenty-four hours a day.

The best solution was to find an execution agent for Su Jiqiu to stay by his side, handle communications with the crew, and manage his daily life.

Zhang Ling was actually the prime candidate, but back in North City, there were still three younger boys who needed looking after, and he also needed someone trustworthy to hold down the fort at the company…

It seemed he absolutely had to recruit more staff. He just didn’t know if he could find someone reliable in such a short window of time…

Tao Zui massaged his temples and got out of the taxi carrying his travel bag. It was already past midnight, and the residential complex was pitch-black, with only the motion-sensor lights flickering on and off to illuminate the path ahead.

Walking in this kind of atmosphere was enough to make anyone slightly faint-hearted go weak at the knees. Fortunately, Tao Zui was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t pay attention to his surroundings at all. Arriving home, he didn’t turn on the lights, moving through the darkness toward his own room.

Yet, just as he reached his doorway, a bizarre strain of music reached his ears—the pitch was singular and fragmented, sounding like a wailing nightingale one moment and a woman’s weeping the next. It drifted faintly through the darkness, creating a terrifying ambiance several times worse than the flickering lights.

The music made Tao Zui’s skin crawl, his heart pounding uncontrollably as he instinctively tracked the source of the sound.

The music was coming from… Gu Nan’s room?!

For some reason, the fear that had caused his legs to tremble just a moment ago suddenly receded like a tide, replaced by a surge of intense curiosity.

After weighing it for two seconds, Tao Zui set down his bag, walked to Gu Nan’s door, reached out to grasp the handle, and gave it a tentative, gentle downward press…

It actually opened?!

A shock jolted through Tao Zui’s heart, immediately followed by a rush of adrenaline straight to his brain. His entire being grew excited.

Since you left the door unlocked, then don’t mind if I perform a proper room check!

Inside the room, Gu Nan lay propped up on his pillow, eyes glued to his tablet. He watched expressionlessly as the female lead hid under a bed, weeping and hyperventilating from the terror of a drifting song.

From last night until now, he had watched several Hong Kong horror films, and he could generally guess what the next scare would be. Since he wasn’t afraid of these things to begin with, and now that he could predict the upcoming plot, he found it somewhat tedious.

It’s coming. Which kind is it this time? A severed head hanging upside down from the ceiling, or a female ghost crawling toward the camera on all fours from a distance…

The next second, the head of a long-haired woman appeared upside down on the screen. Before the word “predictable” could even cross Gu Nan’s mind, a voice rang out right beside his ear—

“What are you doing~?”

The voice was hollow and eerie, as if echoing from afar, yet it was right next to his ear. The female ghost on the tablet bared her teeth in a grin, the woman hiding under the bed went blank with terror, and a loud buzzing exploded in Gu Nan’s brain. His body gave a violent, uncontrollable jolt, and he opened his mouth at the exact same time as the woman in the video—

“AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH—!”