After Transmigrated as a Black-Hearted Entertainment Boss [Transmigration] - Chapter 30

After sending Gu Nan off, Tao Zui and his group of four boarded a flight to Hengdian two hours later, eventually checking into a hotel arranged by the production crew.

Logically speaking, as the second male lead, even if Su Jiqiu couldn’t get a suite, a standard private room should have been the bare minimum. Instead, the crew arranged for him to share a standard twin room with his assistant, Zhu Zheng, while giving Long Feifei a single room to herself.

The assistant director responsible for picking them up rubbed his hands, his expression somewhat embarrassed. “CEO Tao, you know our crew’s funding is a bit tight…”

Tao Zui glanced at the standard room, which could be taken in at a single glance, but didn’t press the issue. Instead, he asked, “Which floor is the male lead staying on?”

Hearing this, the assistant director acted as if he had caught a lifesaving medallion and quickly replied, “On this exact floor, right at the end of the hallway!”

Tao Zui raised an eyebrow and didn’t ask anything else. Turning around, he said, “Zhu Zheng, I’ll leave unpacking the luggage to you. Put everything where it belongs. Qiu-qiu and Feifei, come with me. Let’s go meet the director and the producer.”

Because The Case Files of Dali Temple had limited funds, many things were patched together using existing resources, such as the makeup, hair, and set designs.

The set design went without saying—Hengdian World Studios was built for period dramas. The crew could film every single scene here without ever stepping out of the studio lot. After all, the entire drama revolved around investigating cases, with a new case every few episodes, all occurring within Chang’an City.

The hair and makeup were handed over to a styling team permanently stationed at the studio lot. The costumes were all rented readymade garments, and the makeup artists doubled as wardrobe and hair stylists—one person managing everything from head to toe, never spending an extra cent on wages.

The advantage of doing this was that it cost less and gave the director fewer headaches; the disadvantage was that the visual effects couldn’t be guaranteed. Yet, Yao Qiang happened to care deeply about his work. Even when strapped for cash, he still wanted to shoot the best possible effect.

This resulted in a situation where he could have been a hands-off boss, yet he insisted on supervising everything, turning himself into a busy spinning top. By the time Tao Zui led his people to find him, he was inspecting costumes in a dressing room converted from a hotel ballroom.

“Isn’t this fabric a bit too cheap, Old Sun? I didn’t shortchange you on the rental fee, yet you bring this garbage to fool me?”

The man addressed as Old Sun snorted through his nose. “This is the best batch of costumes available. Rented readymade clothes just have this quality. If you want better fabric, go hire a costume designer and make them yourself.”

“If I had the money to hire a costume designer, why would I come to you?” Yao Qiang said, leaning close to a garment to sniff it. “Smells clean enough, at least.”

“Naturally. They’re all washed clean and dried before being delivered to you.” As Old Sun spoke, he pulled a cigarette from his pocket, but before he could light it, Yao Qiang snatched it away.

“Don’t set the clothes on fire; I’d have to compensate you. Which of these have appeared on screen before? Did you bring the records?” Yao Qiang asked, smoothly tucking the cigarette behind his ear.

“Look at you, sweating the small stuff!” Old Sun scoffed, pulling a folder from his bag and handing it to him. “Here, it’s all inside. Basically all of them have been on screen. They’re all prominent extras and supporting roles. It’s virtually impossible for them not to be recognized; you can only find a way out through the accessories.”

Yao Qiang shook his head. “If the quality of those accessories isn’t good, hanging too many of them just looks cheap instead. Find another way for me, and bring over some pieces that haven’t been worn yet.”

“Fine, I’ll try my best.”

Hearing this exchange, Long Feifei couldn’t help but steal a glance at Su Jiqiu, yet she failed to see the negative emotions she had anticipated on his face. On the contrary, he was looking around quite excitedly, and if he hadn’t been mindful of being in public, he would have reached out to touch everything long ago.

Recalling her impressions from interacting with him over the past half-month, it wasn’t hard for Long Feifei to comprehend Su Jiqiu’s current state of mind. For a dream-chasing youth possessing the most innocent yearning for an acting career, being able to keep from losing his composure at this exact moment—when his dream was about to come true—already demonstrated remarkable self-control.

But can a person this pure, like a blank sheet of paper, truly continue collaborating with me? Just facing the psychological state brought on by a poor production crew, our attitudes have already completely diverged. Granted, it’s a good thing for an actor to be down-to-earth, but how can people with incompatible core values work together?

Tao Zui could never have predicted that Long Feifei could think so deeply in a matter of mere seconds. After Old Sun departed, he smiled and approached Yao Qiang, teasing him: “You didn’t expect it to be this miserable either, did you?”

Yao Qiang rolled his eyes at him. “What’s so miserable about limited funds? Not being able to secure investment so the cameras can’t even roll—now that’s miserable!”

“True,” Tao Zui smoothly nodded in agreement, gesturing for Long Feifei to step forward. “Let me introduce you. Su Jiqiu’s execution agent, Long Feifei. She’ll be responsible for handling communications with the crew over the next few months.”

Yao Qiang shook hands with Long Feifei, casting a puzzled glance at Tao Zui. “You aren’t staying here to watch over him?”

“What is there to watch over? With you here, what do I have to worry about? The company has another artist joining a crew, so I have to keep an eye on things over there.”

Yao Qiang: “Fine, I guarantee I’ll return him to you in one piece in three months.”

“Having that promise from you is enough,” Tao Zui smiled. “When are the look tests and final styling?”

Yao Qiang looked back at the rows of garment racks packed with clothes and let out a sigh. “The day after tomorrow. Tomorrow is the table read. Let’s wait a couple of days to see if we can add a few more styles; it’s always better to have more options.”

Following his gaze, Tao Zui walked over to a rack, rifling through the clothes as he asked casually, “I recall the male lead’s character is a Vice Minister of the Dali Temple. Wearing an official uniform means there shouldn’t be any worry about clashing styles, right? Those uniforms are all pretty much the same; just alter some details.”

Yao Qiang nodded. “Yes, but that’s not the case for the female lead and the second male lead. Don’t you want your guy’s outfit to stand out?”

“Oh? You’re being this considerate?” Tao Zui raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you afraid of stealing the male lead’s thunder?”

Yao Qiang snorted twice, stealing a glance at the currently completely plain-looking Su Jiqiu. “The male lead has a rich character setup and relies on his role to attract people. If played well, he can reel in countless fans later, but the early setup takes too long. I have to find a highlight that can hook people into watching further, right?”

Tao Zui caught his meaning instantly, revealing a look of smug pride without hiding it at all. “Consider it proof of your good vision.”

In truth, the reason The Case Files of Dali Temple was able to break through its niche in the original novel was precisely because fan-made visual edits of the second male lead—played by Qin Shuang—completely swept Bilibili, generating the first wave of viral hype. Only after that did it rely on its rock-solid plot and excellent acting to draw in organic word-of-mouth recommendations.

One could say that in the original novel, the second male lead’s appearance played a decisive role in the show’s success, thereby becoming capital for Qin Shuang and his fans to brag about.

It was just that in the original novel, The Case Files of Dali Temple was an A-rank drama, so it naturally could afford a costume designer. But now, due to the budget downgrade, the crew couldn’t afford to hire someone to manufacture new costumes, and the styling for all the actors could only be downgraded along with it.

However, Tao Zui wasn’t worried at all about the styling affecting the broadcast results. First, Yao Qiang’s own personality meant he wouldn’t produce cheap work; he would try his absolute best within the limited conditions. Second, compared to Qin Shuang, who had to rely on specific angles to look good, Su Jiqiu was a genuine 360-degree flawless beauty whose versatility was far superior.

Since Qin Shuang could break out using an A-rank drama’s styling, Su Jiqiu would only look far more striking than him!

Tao Zui was filled with absolute confidence. Beside him, Long Feifei, who had similarly understood Yao Qiang’s meaning, furrowed her brow slightly, failing to understand why the director would gamble everything on Su Jiqiu.

Could it be that he possesses some hidden potential I haven’t noticed yet?

She admitted that Su Jiqiu indeed possessed great acting skills, was obedient, and highly cooperative—the exact kind of artist an agent most wanted to work with. But similarly, she believed Su Jiqiu belonged to the category of artists whose floor was very high but whose ceiling was limited, precisely because his external appearance wasn’t striking.

It wasn’t that she judged people by their looks, but the current reality of the domestic entertainment circle was exactly like that—visuals were the primary driver of productivity. No matter how high an achievement a star could ultimately reach, appearance—even if not the sole standard—played a decisive role. Relying on paid marketing accounts to hype a look could only fool people temporarily, not for a lifetime. Even if backed by heavy capital, it would at most produce an over-resourced industry plant; whether one could become a top-tier star was already decided by the face.

Compared to Su Jiqiu, Long Feifei actually thought higher of Gu Nan. Unfortunately, that man was being managed personally by CEO Tao, walking a path tailored to turn him into Taoli’s top star; it would likely be intensely difficult for her to get a foot in. Furthermore, once a top star existed in the company, it would be hard for others to stand out. Even if she possessed the capability to pull Su Jiqiu up, there wouldn’t be a position left for him!

…Work hard for a year to accumulate experience and connections, then jump ship a year later to a larger talent agency.

Long Feifei let out a silent sigh, making up her mind in her heart.

The table read in the afternoon and the following day went very smoothly, and before long, the day for final look tests arrived.

On this day, Long Feifei woke up exceptionally early, heading down to the restaurant for breakfast after washing up. Just as she sat down with her tray, she saw Zhu Zheng appear at the entrance of the restaurant, with Tao Zui walking right beside him. She quickly raised her hand to wave them over:

“Zhu Zheng, CEO Tao, over here.”

The two caught sight of her, each grabbed a tray to load some food, and walked over.

Once they sat down, Long Feifei glanced back at the restaurant entrance, turning to ask Zhu Zheng, “Where’s Qiu-qiu? Hasn’t he gotten out of bed yet?”

Zhu Zheng picked up a steamed bun from his tray, replying around a mouthful: “He’s up. He’s in the bathroom putting in his contact lenses.”

“Contact lenses?” Long Feifei froze for a moment before reacting, nodding. “He definitely needs to wear them, but will the color pose an issue?”

Tao Zui chimed in: “No, Qiu-qiu’s lenses are completely transparent. Period dramas don’t require altering eye color anyway.”

Long Feifei gave an “Mm” and didn’t ask anything else, lowering her head to take a sip of her coffee.

Right at that moment, the surroundings suddenly fell quiet. The originally noisy restaurant seemed as if someone had pressed a pause button—the clattering sounds of cutlery vanished, the loud laughter and chatter disappeared, while the hushed murmurs of people whispering to one another grew increasingly distinct.

“Who is that? Is there another production crew staying at the hotel?”

“Are they from our crew? I’ve never seen him before!”

“With looks like that, he must be an actor…”

Puzzled, Long Feifei lifted her eyes—only to see an unforgettable beauty standing at the entrance of the restaurant.

He possessed a pair of captivating peach-blossom eyes radiating charm, refined brows, a shapely nose, and lips like flower petals. It was a feminine face on a male frame yet completely lacking in strength—at a first glance, it delivered a kind of gender-transcending beauty that blurred the lines between male and female.

The beauty seemed to be experiencing some slight discomfort in his eyes. Squinting his eyes slightly, his gaze swept over the restaurant once, finally locking onto Long Feifei and her companions’ table before popping wide open.

Under the stunned, mesmerized gazes of the crowd, the beauty revealed a radiant, bright smile more dazzling than spring itself, raising his hand to greet them: “Papa Tao, Sister Feifei, Big Brother Da Zheng!”

Long Feifei’s jaw dropped completely, a trail of coffee-colored liquid trickling down the corner of her mouth.

“Qiu… Qiu-qiu!”

Sitting across from Long Feifei, Tao Zui lifted his cup to take a sip of instant coffee, a satisfied curve arching at the corners of his mouth.