lcionline Chapter 83: The Nature Has Changed
Chapter 83: The Nature Has Changed
The interview started on time at 4 p.m. on Friday afternoon, and the venue was a small meeting room on the first floor of Sunshine Entertainment.
The room was furnished in a very simple manner, with two chairs placed side by side and a camera set up directly in front of the two people.
The reporter who came to interview Chu Ran was a woman in her twenties, with delicate features and long hair tied in a low ponytail. Before the interview, she handed Chu Ran a question outline.
Chu Ran, dressed in a simple casual shirt, quickly scanned the paper with her fingertips, folded the outline and pressed it under her knees, then looked up at the camera: "We can begin."
The reporter was slightly surprised: "Don't you need to prepare?"
"No need." Chu Ran adjusted her posture for the camera, straightening her back. "Go ahead and ask."
The reporter opened his notebook: "Okay, first question, in 'What Kind of Conduct', the character you played has an emotional storyline that spans a long period. How did you handle this span during filming?"
Chu Ran: "I didn't handle it. I only handled the scene itself for each scene. The span was a matter for editing."
The reporter paused for a moment, then asked, "Was there a scene that you found particularly difficult?"
"Yes." Chu Ran moved the outline on her lap to the side. "There was a scene that I prepared for two days, but when I got to the set, I found that all my preparations were useless. The actor I was acting with was in a different state that day, and all my designs were based on his state last time."
"Then what are you going to do?"
"Throw it away and start over."
The reporter leaned forward slightly: "And then?"
"Then it was over." Chu Ran's tone was calm and even. "The director said that take was kept, but I still don't know which few seconds were kept. We'll see when it airs."
The reporter quickly wrote a line in his notebook, skipped the follow-up question, and jumped directly to the next one: "Do you consider yourself a naturally gifted actor?"
……
Upstairs in his office, Zeng Hao stared at the live call transcript sent by Xu Wen, reading it line by line.
He flicked his finger, sending his phone sliding to the corner of the table, and buried himself back in the documents in front of him—the submission materials for "Ning An Ru Meng" (Peaceful Dream). The approval process was estimated to take thirty working days, with the earliest possible release date set for the end of January next year.
The review results will be released at the end of January, and the broadcast schedule will be set for the second quarter, leaving a one-month gap in the schedule.
This lull period is risky; once the topic loses its momentum, it will be difficult to bring it back.
He picked up his pen and wrote four characters in the blank space: Xue Zhijian Linkage.
Next year's Spring Festival Gala will be held during the Spring Festival season, just two months before the premiere of "Ning An Ru Meng".
Once Xue Zhijian has solidified his national image through the Spring Festival Gala, he can take advantage of this opportunity to promote "Ning An Ru Meng" at a cost of almost zero, which can fill the gap in popularity during the off-season.
He didn't tell anyone about this collaborative plan; even Xue Zhijian himself was unaware of it.
Yang Shanshan was sitting in front of the makeup mirror touching up her makeup when a message from her agent, Chen Ming, popped up. The makeup artist had just applied the powder puff to her cheek.
She swiped her finger across the screen, and Chen Ming sent only one sentence: iQiyi has closed its gateway. The other party is refusing to cooperate, citing a contract dispute as the reason for collecting evidence.
Yang Shanshan held her phone screen up to the bright white makeup mirror for a second, then casually put down the powder puff.
Immediately afterwards, Chen Ming added another point: Zeng Hao had already obtained a written explanation from iQiyi, Article 14, Section 3, indicating that the platform-side approach was completely blocked.
Yang Shanshan hovered her fingertip over the screen, but didn't reply with a single word.
The dressing room was so quiet that only the faint hum of the lightbox could be heard. The stark white light shone on her face, smoothing out all the soft contours and leaving only cold, hard lines.
She looked up and glanced at herself in the mirror.
Since Zeng Hao took over Sunshine Entertainment, she has been able to figure out Zeng Hao's calculations for every project the company assigns her—which aspects of her popularity this drama can boost, which type of audience this endorsement will reach, and which labels this announcement will solidify for her.
Logically, there is not a single flaw to be found.
But she clearly sensed that she had already been quietly sidelined.
When Jingcheng's people first approached her, they said, "Sister, you deserve to have your own business," a statement she remembered more vividly than any contract clause.
She picked up the powder puff again and continued to touch up her makeup in front of herself in the mirror.
……
On the day of the premiere of "What Kind of Conduct", Xu Wen started sending data to Zeng Hao's desk non-stop from eight o'clock in the morning.
The first one, at 8 AM, had 9.32 million pre-orders for views.
What level does this number represent in the industry? Two other dramas airing at the same time on satellite TV had 11 million and 7.2 million pre-orders respectively: one was a period drama with a male lead, and the other was a modern romance drama.
"What Kind of Style" was sandwiched in the middle and performed mediocrely; its opponents didn't even take it seriously.
Zeng Hao picked up the data sheet, casually pressed it down on the corner of the table, and didn't look at it again.
He's waiting for another key number.
The series officially premiered at 10:00 AM.
Xu Wen's real-time viewership ratings were as follows: 0.87 for the first hour, 1.12 for the second hour, and 1.31 for the third hour.
The viewership curve rose slowly, but the increase was not rapid. After Xu Wen sent the third number, he added: "The rival's historical drama male lead has a viewership of 1.48 in the third hour, temporarily leading."
Zeng Hao glanced at the message but made no response.
Ratings only reflect the first day's popularity, Douban ratings are based on the third day, topic volume is determined in the first week, and revenue doesn't come until three months later.
These are not the same thing, but some people always confuse them.
The truly crucial data won't be available until tonight.
On the evening of its premiere, at 6 p.m., the number of views for the topic "What Kind of Conduct" exceeded 1.1 million, which was still 100,000 short of Zeng Hao's target of 1.2 million.
Xu Wen pushed the door open and came in, looking slightly flustered: "Boss, we're still 100,000 views short of the topic's reach. The first interview has already been released, but the buzz is picking up rather slowly—"
"Wait." Zeng Hao said without looking up.
"How long will it take?"
Nine o'clock.
Xu Wen responded and left, while Zeng Hao leaned back in his office chair.
He knew that the buzz would explode after 9 p.m.
The core audience of "What Kind of Act" is a large number of young women who watch the show after get off work. When they see Chu Ran's scenes, their first reaction is not to post on social media, but to take screenshots and share them on their WeChat Moments and with their best friends. Then, the posts on WeChat Moments drive search traffic, and finally, the show becomes a hot topic.
This transmission chain takes exactly three to four hours to complete.
After all, this is a drama adapted from a female-oriented novel.
He couldn't tell anyone these inside stories.
At 9:17 p.m., Xu Wen suddenly pushed open the office door, holding up his phone with the screen facing outwards towards Zeng Hao.
The real-time topic volume numbers jumped rapidly—1.31 million, 1.39 million, and 1.46 million.
"Boss!" Xu Wen's voice trembled with excitement, "Prices are skyrocketing!"
Zeng Hao put down his pen, looked up, and asked, "What about the data on iQiyi's website?"
"The full video has surpassed 23 million views and is still rising!"
Zeng Hao got up and walked to the window. The streetlights downstairs lit up one after another, and cars drove by, their lights drawing streaks of light on the road.
Twenty-three million.
He knew the number would continue to climb, and the data would be even higher the next day. The Douban rating would be released the day after tomorrow, falling between 8.4 and 8.7, ultimately settling at 8.6.
He didn't mention any of these predictions, only casually instructing: "Notify the publicity team to release the preview for Chu Ran's second interview tomorrow. Don't wait, strike while the iron is hot."
Xu Wen quickly took notes at the door, then looked up and asked, "Boss, did you already predict that prices would skyrocket tonight?"
Zeng Hao evaded the question and instead asked, "Is there anything else?"
"That's all."
"Go out."
He had obviously planned everything in advance.
Zeng Hao walked back to his desk and flipped through the real-time data of competing products. Although the rival's historical drama male lead had the highest ratings on the first day, after 9 p.m., the amount of discussion surrounding it began to be overtaken by "What Kind of Conduct," and by midnight, the data for both shows was almost equal.
In this industry, breaking even is considered a win.
After all, the production cost of "What Kind of Conduct" was only one-third of that of the other party.
He couldn't be bothered to explain this cost-benefit ratio to anyone.
Chen Lei's rented room on the sixth floor of an old residential building in the south of the city.
The room was cramped and small, with a single bed, an old wooden table with an unopened takeout box on it, and a laptop next to it, the screen of which was playing "What Kind of Man".
He rewatched the entire series today, not to relive the plot, but just to watch the comments.
The scene in episode eleven where the characters recognize each other in English had the highest density of comments in the entire series, with a new comment appearing every two seconds.
"I watched this scene four times."
"That really hits home."
"It feels a bit over the top, why are they setting off fireworks, oh my god."
A comment with larger font and longer duration popped up: "From neutral to fan."
Chen Lei paused for a second on the touchpad.
He turned off the bullet comments, shrunk the playback page to the right, and opened the Sunshine Entertainment official website. In the artist list, Chu Ran's name was at the top, next to Zhang Linghe, and then Xu Kunkun.
Chen Lei closed his laptop, opened the takeout box, ate a couple of bites, and then put down his chopsticks. He picked up his phone, found the contact information for the agent at Sunshine Entertainment, but instead of sending a message, he silently saved it to his contacts and changed the nickname to "Sunshine Xu Wen".
The morning after the premiere, in the Sunshine Entertainment office.
Xu Wen slapped a screenshot of the Douban rating in front of Zeng Hao: "Boss, the rating is out, 8.5, and it's still climbing."
Zeng Hao glanced at it: "How much is the rival?"
"7.2".
Zeng Hao pushed the screenshot back and instructed, "Notify Peng Bing to expedite the post-production progress of 'Ning An Ru Meng'. Give a clear completion date for the color grading stage, not a range, but a specific time."
Xu Wen quickly jotted down: "Any other instructions?"
Has Chu Ran's second interview been released today?
"It was posted at 10 a.m., and the topic is currently viewed 380,000 times."
Zeng Hao pushed the documents in front of him aside, clearing a corner of the table: "How many days after the premiere is the payment deadline for 'What Kind of Conduct'?"
"Ninety days."
"Keep a close eye on them, and remind the TV stations a week before the deadline. Don't wait for them to take the initiative."
After noting down all the instructions, Xu Wen closed the folder and headed towards the door, but stopped halfway there: "Boss, someone posted a long review on Douban last night, saying that time-travel dramas are the most underrated genre in China in the past five years, and it's been shared over 30,000 times. Do you want to take a look?"
"I won't look."
Xu Wen clutched the folder tightly: "Then I'll get back to work." Reaching the door, he couldn't help but turn back. "Boss, did you really foresee the surge in online discussion last night?"
Zeng Hao didn't even look up: "How many times did you bother me before nine o'clock last night?"
Xu Wen was taken aback: "...Three times."
"From now on, report these kinds of things after nine o'clock."
Xu Wen responded and went out, gently closing the door behind him.
The footsteps in the corridor faded into the distance, and before they disappeared, a very soft laugh rang out, vanishing in an instant.
Inside the dormitory building of Shanghai Theatre Academy.
Chu Ran sat on the edge of the bed, her phone screen lit up. Tian Xiwei sat opposite her, both staring at their phones in silence for nearly twenty minutes.
"So beautiful! No wonder she's called a femme fatale who brought ruin to a country. Sister Chu Ran is so suited for period dramas." Tian Xiwei turned her phone upside down and handed it to her. "They say you're a natural-born goddess in period dramas."
"I know," Chu Ran said calmly. "Someone sent it to me last night."
How do you feel?
Chu Ran placed her phone face down on the bed, leaning against the wall: "I can't quite explain it, it's a bit strange."
"What's strange about it?"
"Well..." She paused, organizing her thoughts, "When I was filming those scenes, I didn't think about these things; I just focused on doing my best in that particular scene. Now, when people watch the film and comment on me, I can't tell if it's true or not, and I'm not sure if I really have that kind of talent."
Tian Xiwei put down her phone: "The market has already accepted it, there's no way it can escape."
Chu Ran didn't answer. She looked down at the pattern on the bed sheet, her fingertips tracing the pattern before suddenly stopping.
"Then keep filming, don't stop, keep filming period dramas, haha."
Tian Xi glanced at her for two seconds, then picked up her coat from the back of the chair and put it on: "Let's go to the cafeteria, I'll treat you to dinner to celebrate."
"What are we celebrating?"
"Celebrate that you haven't yet discovered just how amazing you really are."
On the third day after its release on Douban, the rating for "What Kind of Person" rose from 8.5 to 8.6, and then remained stable without any further fluctuations.
Xu Wen sent a screenshot, which Zeng Hao glanced at without any reaction. He had known this score for eight years.
He understood even better what an 8.6 rating meant for a prime-time drama on a satellite TV channel.
This means that the collaborators who come to us next will no longer be discussing payment, but rather the eligibility for collaboration.
He didn't have to wait long.
On the fifth day after "What Kind of Conduct" aired, Chen, the business manager of iQiyi, called and immediately congratulated the show: "President Zeng, congratulations! 8.6 points, the highest score in prime time on satellite TV this year."
"Thank you, Mr. Chen."
"Would you be interested in discussing the next project?" Chen's tone carried the relaxed air typical of platform operators. "Our content department has recently identified several directions that align perfectly with your company's artist resources."
Zeng Hao picked up the pen on the table and twirled it between his fingers: "If President Chen has time, let's talk in person. It's hard to explain things clearly over the phone."
"Okay, you set the time."
"This Thursday."
"Okay, I'll have my assistant handle it."
After hanging up the phone, Zeng Hao wrote three words on a blank piece of paper: Next.
It's not the project name, but its position—after the explosive popularity of "What Kind of Conduct," Sunshine Entertainment has been able to maintain a core position within iQiyi's content ecosystem.
This has nothing to do with direct profit, but all revenue will derive from this position.
He put down his pen and picked up the post-production progress chart for "Ning An Ru Meng". It was sent by Peng Bing yesterday, showing that color grading was 73% complete, music was 61% complete, and it was estimated that it would take another nineteen days to finish.
The document will be submitted for review in 19 days, and the approval process will take 30 working days, which will be completed by the end of January next year.
It will air from the end of January to the second quarter, with a gap of about forty days.
Forty days may be fraught with risks, but he had already prepared a plan for collaborating with Xue Zhijian and the Spring Festival Gala. He kept this a secret, keeping it only in his mind, waiting for the right moment to implement it.
Xu Wen knocked on the door and came in, holding a document in his hand, with a strange expression.
"Boss, Yang Shanshan has changed her strategy."
"explain."
"Instead of going the platform and brand route, we'll go the media route." Xu Wen put the documents on the table. "Jingcheng has contacted an entertainment media outlet to do an exclusive interview with Yang Shanshan. The interview will include some negative information about the company, but we'll only say it's the market's opinion to the public, without directly confronting them."
Zeng Hao picked up the document and flipped through it page by page.
Media outlets.
This path is far more difficult to block than that of platforms or brands. There are no clauses in the contract that can constrain the direction of an artist's interview, and unless the content constitutes defamation, it's very difficult for the law to intervene.
After reviewing the documents, Zeng Hao concluded that Jingcheng had hired someone knowledgeable about contracts to provide advice.
He put down the documents: "When will the interview be recorded?"
"The day after tomorrow afternoon."
Which media outlet?
Xu Wen turned to the second page: "Qianhu Entertainment, a weekly magazine with a small circulation, but its content is often reposted by major accounts."
Zeng Hao asked, "Who is the editor-in-chief of Qianhu Entertainment?"
Chung Yuen has been in the industry for eight years.
Have you ever collaborated with Sunshine Entertainment?
"No." Xu Wen paused for a moment, "How could they have collaborated with the production company of 'What Kind of Conduct' twice, and published two in-depth reports, which received a good response."
Zeng Hao closed the file and pushed it to the corner of the table: "Go check on Zhong Yuan, and give me the information tonight."
"What aspects should be checked?"
"His needs."
After finishing his work, Xu Wenji walked towards the door, then paused and turned back: "Boss, how do we block this road for the media?"
"No traffic jams."
Xu Wen was stunned: "...Not congested?"
"We'll deal with it once the content is released."
Xu Wen processed those words, his expression changing: "So let them release them first, then we—"
"Go check Zhong Yuan."
"Okay."
At 9:40 p.m., Zeng Hao was the only one left in the office.
Xu Wen sent Zhong Yuan's information, which consisted of only two short paragraphs: one was his personal resume, and the other was a note stating that he had always wanted to do an in-depth investigation column on the entertainment industry, but lacked start-up capital and had failed to reach an agreement with three investors.
Zeng Hao finished reading and put down his phone.
Lack of start-up capital.
The solution was devised in three seconds and was not complicated. However, the timing was not right; we had to wait for the interview to be released before taking action. Acting too early would only benefit Jingcheng.
He put the matter aside and picked up the materials for reviewing "Ning An Ru Meng" again to study them.
Twenty minutes later, the phone lit up.
Chu Ran sent a message: [Xu Wen said you're still at the company?]
Zeng Hao glanced at it and continued flipping through the documents.
The phone lit up again; it was Chu Ran again: [I'm downstairs, I left something behind.]
He put down the review materials, got up, walked to the door, and went downstairs.
In the lobby on the first floor, Chu Ran stood by the reception desk, a backpack slenderly slung across her shoulder, a charger clutched in her hand. Seeing him come down, she raised her hand and waved the charger: "I left it here during the last interview shoot."
She stuffed the charger into her backpack, fastened the clasp, and looked up to ask, "How much longer are you going to be busy?"
"I don't know."
"Have you got a meal yet?"
Zeng Hao didn't respond. He turned and walked towards the stairs, stopping after three steps without looking back: "There's takeout upstairs, let's eat together."
Two seconds of silence were observed in the hall.
Chu Ran gripped the backpack strap tightly with her fingertips and replied softly, "Okay."
Xu Wen ordered the takeout in advance. There were two orders in total. One order had already gone cold, and Xu Wen took the other order with him. The soup base of the remaining order was still warm.
Chu Ran held the cold lunchbox between her fingertips and gently pushed it in front of her.
Zeng Hao didn't say anything, but reached out and simply switched the positions of the two lunch boxes.
She didn't push the lunchbox back.
The two ate in silence, the only sound in the office being the soft clinking of chopsticks against the lunchbox.
She ate about half of her rice, looked up at Zeng Hao, her chopsticks pausing on the edge of her bowl, and asked softly, "When will 'Ning An Ru Meng' air?"
"The second quarter of next year," Zeng Hao replied casually without even looking up.
"Then we'll have to wait another six months." She pouted, her tone tinged with disappointment.
"Um."
She put down her chopsticks, placed her hands on the edge of the table, leaned forward slightly, and looked at him with a hint of curiosity: "Director Peng said that my two-second shot was in the final cut, but he didn't tell me which scene it was, do you know?"
"I know." Zeng Hao glanced at her.
Which one?
Zeng Hao didn't answer immediately. He reached out and pushed the warm soup in front of him towards her, saying in a flat tone, "Episode 9, you can count the comments yourself after it airs."
She smiled, her eyes crinkling, picked up the soup base, took a sip, and then lowered her head to continue eating.
The bright incandescent light in the office clearly outlined the contours of her profile, drawing a soft line from her full forehead to her sharp chin.
Zeng Hao withdrew his gaze, swiped his phone to open the chat window with Peng Bing, and typed in the rough cut timecode for episode nine of "Ning An Ru Meng".
Peng Bing replied instantly: Okay.
Chu Ran was eating her rice with her head down and didn't notice his message at all.
After finishing her meal, she gathered up the two empty lunchboxes, stood up, and said, "I'm leaving."
"Um."
She slung her backpack over her shoulder, walked to the office door, paused, and turned back to remind him, "Next time you order takeout, remember to order two portions yourself, don't wait for Xu Wen."
Before Zeng Hao could respond, she pushed open the door and walked out.
The footsteps in the hallway gradually faded away downstairs, and the soft sound of a door opening and closing came from behind a wall before everything fell silent.
Zeng Hao turned his phone upside down on the table and buried himself in reviewing the submitted materials again.
---
The next morning, Sunshine Entertainment.
Xu Wen pushed open the door and walked quickly to the desk. He slammed a stack of printed supplementary materials for Zhong Yuan onto the desk and reported with a frown: "Boss, Zhong Yuan's in-depth investigation column is short of 800,000 to 1.2 million yuan in start-up capital. The amount is not large, but all three investors feel that the return cycle for in-depth entertainment investigations is too long, and no one is willing to take it on."
Zeng Hao ran his fingertips across the document, slowly flipping through it, then looked up and asked, "What's his research topic?"
"The internal ecosystem of artist management companies is supposed to be a series, with five episodes in total, each focusing on one company," Xu Wen answered truthfully.
Zeng Hao put down the documents, tapped the table with his fingertips, and said confidently, "Go contact Zhong Yuan and tell him that Sunshine Entertainment is interested in this program and is willing to be an independent sponsor and provide full support. There is only one condition—we will decide the topic for the first episode."
Xu Wen paused for a second, then his eyes widened suddenly: "...We'll decide the topic for the first issue, so what about the interview with Yang Shanshan—"
"If the first issue is about Sunshine Entertainment, then what about what another media outlet published at the same time?" Zeng Hao interrupted him.
Xu Wen quickly pieced together the logic in his mind, his eyes instantly lighting up: "Even if it's just competitors tearing each other apart, it can actually bring traffic to Sunshine Entertainment!"
"Go contact Zhong Yuan." Zeng Hao waved his hand.
"Alright!" Xu Wen turned to leave, but after taking two steps, he suddenly turned back, looking curious. "Boss, when did you come up with this plan?"
"last night."
"What time is it?"
"9:40."
Xu Wen blinked and pressed, "...What were you doing at 9:40 last night?"
"Look at the materials."
"Oh." Xu Wen clutched the folder tightly and walked towards the door, but couldn't resist turning back with a grin when he reached the doorframe. "What about before 9:40?"
"Get out." Zeng Hao frowned and coldly rebuked.
Xu Wen laughed and ran out in a flash. Before the door closed, a very low laugh came from the corridor and lasted for a full three seconds.
---
Zhong Yuan sat in front of the computer, his back ramrod straight, staring blankly at the screen for a long time.
Outside the window were the streetlights of Media Avenue in Qianhu City. After 11 p.m., a third of them would turn off one by one, leaving the warm yellow light that illuminated the corridor like an endless yellow waterway. The editorial department of Qianhu Entertainment was on the seventh floor of this building. He rented an 18-square-meter private office, which contained a desk, two folding chairs, a hard drive cabinet full of interview recordings, and an old desktop computer that ran slower than him.
The cooperation proposal was displayed on the computer screen.
He has already read it over and over again for the third time.
It was called a plan, but it was actually just an A4 sheet of paper. On the left was the outline of the column planning, and on the right was a number printed on it—one million two hundred thousand, followed by four words below: initial start-up funds.
Zhong Yuan flipped the paper over and over again, his fingertips repeatedly stroking the edge of the paper.
He conducted in-depth investigations, and he did so for nine years.
The first topic was the pollution problem of a chemical plant in the suburbs of Qianhu City. He spent 43 days interviewing and observing. After the article was published, the factory stopped production for rectification, and his WeChat official account gained 2,000 followers.
The second story was about financial fraud in a chain of kindergartens. The article was initially limited by the platform, but he posted it three times before it was shared on Weibo and garnered over 800,000 views.
From the third to the thirty-first issue, he never stopped writing. The topics ranged from people's livelihood to business, from local to cross-city. Several issues were almost retracted, and one issue disappeared directly from the back office. He backed up the original text on four different cloud drives, afraid of losing it.
Nine years passed, the program never stopped, and he didn't collapse, but the gap in start-up funding kept getting bigger and bigger.
GG (the author) is hesitant to conduct in-depth investigations, fearing trouble; platform subsidies were halved last year; one of the two regular editors left last month to join a self-media matrix, doubling his salary—he didn't stop him. The remaining editor, with tears in his eyes, asked last week, "Mr. Zhong, what about the travel expenses for the next issue…?" He only said, "You pay for it first, I'll figure something out."
The editor nodded and didn't ask any more questions.
He knew that this "think of a way" wouldn't last long.
So when Xu Wen from Sunshine Entertainment called, he answered.
He initially thought it was a product placement, and had even prepared his refusal. But the other party immediately offered sponsorship—1.2 million yuan—with the sole condition that the first episode's topic be chosen by Sunshine Entertainment. He remained silent for six seconds, only saying, "I'll think about it." After hanging up, he spent three whole days replaying those six seconds of conversation in his mind.
On the third night, he asked Zeng Hao to meet him at a coffee shop across from Media Avenue.
Zeng Hao was much younger than he had imagined.
Zhong Yuan had met countless entertainment company bosses—the greasy and mercenary, the shrewd and calculating, the feigningly easygoing, all dressed in sharp suits, exchanging polite words, and then turning around to push sponsored advertisements at him. Zeng Hao was nothing like that. He wore a casual jacket, moved his chair back half an inch before sitting down, ordered a sugar-free Americano, and placed it beside him without touching it.
He brought the proposal himself, slamming a piece of paper on the table and saying calmly, "Mr. Zhong, take a look."
Zhong Yuan took the paper, scanned it from top to bottom until he saw the number, then suddenly looked up, his eyes sharp: "What do you want with this money?"
"The topic for the first issue," Zeng Hao picked up his Americano, took a sip, put down his glass, and said in a soft but firm voice, "will be decided by Sunshine Entertainment."
"Is the topic selection related to Sunshine Entertainment itself?"
"right."
Zhong Yuan put the paper back on the table, his brow furrowed. "Then what should I interview about? Should I do a promotional article for your company?"
Zeng Hao twirled the paper cup between his fingers, the bottom of the cup lightly tapping the table: "This isn't a promotional campaign." He paused, looking directly at Zhong Yuan, "It's an in-depth report. From the company's inception to now, its funding sources, project layout, artist signing logic, all data performance—you can dig up whatever you want. I'll have Xu Wen cooperate with you; you can review all the documents."
Zhong Yuan stared at him for a full three seconds, his face filled with disbelief: "Are you sure?"
"Sure."
"What's in it for you?"
Zeng Hao didn't answer immediately. His knuckles tapped lightly on the table, as if he was too lazy to explain further. In the end, he simply said, "It's better to continue the program than to stop it."
Zhong Yuan instantly understood the two layers of meaning.
On the surface, it's a column that shows consideration for him, but in reality, it hides a structure that others can't understand.
He conducted in-depth investigations for nine years, and this ability to observe people was ingrained in his very being.
He folded the paper, stuffed it into his coat pocket, and said in a deep voice, "I have one condition."
"you say."
"I have full control over the content of the report, and it was not reviewed by you before it was published."
"Can."
"You are not allowed to interfere if there is any negative content in the article."
"Can."
Zhong Yuan waited for a moment, but when he didn't receive any additional conditions, he was taken aback.
"I'll think about it for two more days," he said, putting his mind at ease.
Zeng Hao stood up, pushed the chair back to its original position, nodded, and said, "Okay." After saying that, he picked up his jacket, turned around and left without any hesitation.
The coffee shop was blasting the heat, but after Zeng Hao left, Zhong Yuan remained seated, not feeling warm for a long time.
He pondered Zeng Hao's logic repeatedly, ultimately getting stuck on a crucial point—if Sunshine Entertainment truly had problems, the impact of this in-depth report on the company would be far more devastating than a negative interview. Yet, the boss sat opposite him, calmly saying, "Go ahead and dig," without the slightest hesitation.
Either this company is exceptionally clean in the entertainment industry, or he has complete confidence in himself.
Two days later, Zhong Yuan dialed Xu Wen's number, his tone firm: "I'll answer."
Eleven days have passed since that phone call.
The in-depth report has already gone through four rounds of interviews, with Xu Wen fully cooperating throughout. He provided Zhong Yuan with whatever documents he requested. Financial statements, contract frameworks, project initiation records, and even the bank loan extension documents from years ago were unearthed. He asked Zeng Hao why, when the company was facing its most difficult time, they chose to extend the loan instead of filing for bankruptcy. Zeng Hao pondered for a moment and simply replied, "Bankruptcy is too troublesome."
Zhong Yuan wrote this sentence in his notebook, and solemnly added a question mark next to it.
Before he could finish writing his article, Yang Shanshan's interview had already been recorded and was scheduled for release three days earlier than his in-depth report. He learned from his sources that the interview wasn't intended to be positive publicity. He didn't call Zeng Hao; his report was unrelated to the interview, and he owed neither party any favors.
He sat in front of the computer, read the draft report again, revised two words in the third paragraph, clicked save, and closed the document.
Several more streetlights outside the window went out.
He recalled what Zeng Hao had said in the coffee shop—it's better to continue the program than to stop it.
To this day, he still hasn't fully grasped the true meaning behind that statement.
---
Yang Shanshan's interview was released promptly at 3 PM on Thursday.
Before the press release, she sat in the leather chair in the dressing room, her long hair pulled back, her makeup exquisite. Her fingertips repeatedly swiped the screen of her phone, meticulously checking the headline and press release word for word, silently rehearsing the key paragraphs several times in her mind. The wording was all within the legal boundaries, yet the meaning conveyed was exactly as intended.
She put down her phone, asked her assistant to buy her a glass of lemonade, and sat quietly in her chair, waiting for the data to rise.
She had waited for the data countless times.
On the first day of the release of "Baby Baby" in 2005, she stayed up until 2 a.m. in her dorm room, browsing forums on her computer. When she saw a comment that said, "This girl sings pretty well," she immediately took a screenshot and saved it, which is still on her old phone. Later, as data became the norm, she anxiously awaited box office figures, viewership ratings, and interview readership.
But this time, it's completely different.
It's not about the number of reads, but rather that the nature of the waiting has changed.
These are the years she spent at Sunshine Entertainment.
When she first joined the company, Lao Sun, a second-generation coal miner, promised her a role in "The Crossing." The promise was ultimately broken, and she was furious, but after eleven years in the entertainment industry, she had long since learned to swallow her grievances. Later, Zeng Hao took over and gave her the lead role in "The Lion's Reflection of a Lazy Cat." The series performed poorly, and the male lead took the lion's share of the nearly one million yuan earned, leaving her with very little.
Having worked in the industry for eleven years, she knows all too well what it means to be used as a pawn and what it means to have no future.
After filming began for "Ning An Ru Meng", she asked about the casting of the male lead.
At the time, Zeng Hao was engrossed in reading the documents, not even looking up, and simply said four words: "It's progressing."
She didn't press further, but she understood the subtext—this has nothing to do with you.
In all her years at the company, she had never been treated with such distance. It wasn't just polite politeness; it was a direct and clear demarcation.
Jingcheng Media was the company she contacted on her own initiative.
She had her own plans.
In the entertainment industry, you have to forge your own path; no one will pave it for you. Waiting for a 24-year-old boss to arrange your future is even less reliable than waiting for empty promises from someone like Lao Sun. Jingcheng is offering resources for variety show transformation, with platform support, but the window of opportunity is only three months. Securing a lead variety show contract is crucial to opening up your future.
She understood the nature of this choice and the price she would have to pay.
But she knew even better that by staying at Sunshine Entertainment, she had already reached her limit.
Two hours after the interview was released, her assistant hurried into the dressing room and handed her an unlocked phone.
Yang Shanshan took the phone and clicked on the link.
It was Zhong Yuan's in-depth report, Qianhu Entertainment's flagship in-depth investigation column. She had heard of it before. The column had always struggled, but recently it suddenly received start-up funding. She thought it was just a regular commercial sponsorship.
She read the manuscript word by word, which took her four minutes.
The report did not deliberately praise or maliciously smear; it simply presented the facts.
Zhong Yuan used raw data to document the background of Sunshine Entertainment's founding, the flow of funds, and the input-output data of each project, from "The Lion's Reflection of a Lazy Cat" to "What Kind of Behavior." Financial records, contract milestones, and platform performance were all verifiable.
The last paragraph discusses the artist system, and one sentence in particular made her read it twice: "The company's current artist signing logic focuses on long-term cultivation with short-term monetization as a secondary goal, which is significantly different from the operating model of most small and medium-sized entertainment companies."
She placed her phone face down on her lap, her fingertips slightly clenched.
The sunlight streamed in through the window, casting a thin, golden line on the frame of the vanity mirror. The assistant stood to the side, barely daring to breathe.
Yang Shanshan sat quietly for a moment, reviewing the entire report in her mind, and recalling the interview she had released that morning, comparing the two articles side by side.
Having been in the entertainment industry for eleven years, she had never seen such a fighting style.
She released a negative interview filled with emotion, while the other party immediately released a data-driven in-depth report at the same time. The two articles were placed side-by-side, and readers could make their own judgment. The interview focused on emotion, while the report presented facts; data versus emotion is a clear case of one side defeating the other.
She originally thought it was just a regular sponsorship advertorial.
Only now do I fully understand that the sponsorship was real, the topic was chosen by Zeng Hao, and the release time was also deliberately timed by him.
She racked her brains but couldn't figure out when Zeng Hao had set up this scheme, let alone how he knew in advance that she would take the media route.
The assistant tentatively asked in a low voice, "Sister Shan, should we reply to the fans?"
Yang Shanshan picked up her phone and glanced at the soaring readership; the report had surpassed 400,000 views and was still climbing. Her tone was flat, devoid of emotion: "No need, let's wait."
She got up and walked to the window, reaching out to pull the blinds down a notch to block out some of the light.
She had anticipated being retaliated against, but she hadn't expected it to be in this way. A sponsorship fee of 1.2 million yuan resulted in an in-depth report that could counter the interview; Zeng Hao was definitely making a profit.
She stood by the window for a moment, put her phone in her pocket, turned around and walked back to the dressing chair, sat down, picked up the script on the table, and began to read it from the beginning.
She has read this script three times already.
---
Xu Wen sent Zeng Hao a screenshot of the real-time data from the in-depth report, along with a message: "President Zhong's article has been published, side by side with Yang Shanshan's, and currently has 110,000 more views than hers."
Zeng Hao glanced at the screenshot, casually turned his phone upside down, and continued to look through the documents in front of him.
It was a draft of the next collaborative project sent by Chen, the business manager. iQiyi was inquiring about the exclusive follow-up development rights after the broadcast of "Ning An Ru Meng". Three plans were attached, and he had already read two of them and was now opening the third.
Outside the window was the afternoon in Qianhu City. Sunlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a bright diagonal line on the table. Even the cold tea beside him was clearly visible.
After reviewing the third proposal, he crossed out one of the clauses and circled another, leaving the rest to be discussed in a business meeting with Mr. Chen on Thursday.
There are two days left until the interview on Thursday.
Xu Wen sent another message: Is there anything that needs to be followed up with General Manager Yang?
Zeng Hao picked up his phone and replied with only two words: "No need."
He put down his phone, picked up a pen, and wrote a line in the corner of Chen's business proposal homepage.
These seven words encapsulate the core negotiation strategy regarding exclusive subsequent development rights.
He pondered these seven words in his mind for most of the day before finally putting them to paper.