Traffic Star Development Program

Chapter 72 This Xu Kunkun is...

Before Peng Bing could even finish saying the word "pass," the photographer had already locked the camera on a close-up of him jumping into the lake.

Zeng Hao looked at the viewfinder on the monitor and made a "use" gesture.

Chu Ran stood in the scene, catching her breath. Without looking in his direction, she lowered her head, patted the prop cigarette ash off her skirt, then walked back to the starting point, slung her backpack over her shoulder, draped her coat over her elbow, and walked towards Xu Wen.

"Sister Xu," her voice was a little hoarse, dry from the intense emotional acting, "I received your study materials for tonight's exam via email. Could you please print them out for me?"

"What exam—" Xu Wen paused for a second, "You have two more scenes to film tonight."

"I'll memorize it after I finish work."

Xu Wen glanced at the time; she finished work at nine o'clock that night. She took a taxi back and got into her dormitory around 10:30. The exam was at nine o'clock the next morning.

"Okay, I'll go call it."

Chu Ran put on her coat and went back to prepare for the next scene—the scene where Xie Yong'er arrives and Xiahou Dan protects Yu Wanyin.

The backpack strap slipped halfway off her shoulder, but she just grabbed it without putting it back up.

We finished work at 9:15.

The crew dispersed quickly, each returning to their respective accommodations. Peng Bing and the cameraman squatted beside the monitor, reviewing the day's footage. The screen was lit, the two of them facing each other, not speaking, occasionally pausing to rewind and rewatch a particular frame—especially the close-up of Yu Wanyin's tears as she crashed into Xiahou Dan's arms.

Zeng Hao waited for a while, checked all the footage from today's events, and finally asked Xu Wen to single out the scene of escaping the fire in the library and carrying someone up the stairs.

"Which folder should I save it in?" Xu Wen asked, holding the tablet and hovering his finger over it.

"Create a new one".

"What's your name?"

Zeng Hao grabbed his coat and headed for the door.

"Mr. Zeng—what's your name?"

He didn't turn around.

Xu Wen stood there, watching his back as he left the door. He glanced down at his tablet, typed a question mark in the naming field of the new folder, then deleted it. After thinking for a moment, he typed "Pending" and pressed confirm.

"Seriously, does she have to be so aloof!"

...

"Regarding your terms," ​​Chen's voice came through the receiver, "I need to confirm the specific triggering conditions."

Zeng Hao switched his phone to his other hand and continued flipping through the documents on the table with his other hand.

"I sent it to your legal department," he said. "Let him see page seven."

"I know it was sent, but the situation now is—" Chen paused, there was a lot of background noise, so he lowered his voice, "Do you know about THAAD?"

"Um."

"The artists from Korea," he said, "have 48 hours. The State Administration of Radio, Film and Television's decision is that already recorded content cannot be broadcast, and anything being recorded must be stopped. How the contracts are handled is the platform's own business, but the content cannot be uploaded." Chen, the business manager, paused here, "We have a huge gap in our schedules."

Zeng Hao turned to page seven of the document, which contained the artist replacement clause in iQiyi's talent show contract.

"If the original artist is unable to participate in the recording due to force majeure or policy reasons, Party B has the right to initiate the replacement process within 72 hours. The replacement list must be confirmed in writing by Party A, and the confirmation period shall not exceed 24 hours. If the confirmation is not made within the time limit, it shall be deemed as default agreement."

"Have your legal team finished reviewing it?"

"Still watching."

"Let him read it before he calls back."

Zeng Hao hung up the phone.

Xu Wen poked half his head in from the doorway, his expression somewhat subtle: "Business Manager Chen?"

"Um."

"I just saw the THAAD news," she said as she walked in, holding a tablet with a news flash on the entertainment channel: "The Korean boy band from Dingsheng—"

"understood."

Xu Wen put down the tablet, sat down in a chair, seemed about to say something but held back. He scrolled through his phone for a while, then suddenly looked up: "President Zeng, was the time you asked me to inquire about the filing date for this reason?"

Zeng Hao did not answer.

Xu Wen glanced at him, put the tablet away, and didn't ask any more questions.

Forty minutes later, Chen arrived.

He brought two people with him: a legal counsel and a project manager. The legal counsel, surnamed Qian, wore glasses. He walked in, flipped to page seven of the contract, stood there reading, and didn't say a word.

Chen, the business manager, sat down on the sofa, poured himself a glass of water, took a sip, and said, "We need to confirm the latest time when we can provide the replacement list."

"The contract is written," Zeng Hao said. "It will be launched within 72 hours, with a 24-hour confirmation period."

"I know what was written," Chen said. "I'm asking you what you actually mean—"

"Follow the contract."

Chen Shangwu paused for a moment.

Attorney Qian took off his glasses, wiped them, put them back on, and read the page again without saying a word.

Chen, the business manager, glanced at him: "Attorney Qian?"

"The terms are clear," Attorney Qian said calmly. "The triggering conditions have been met. The right to substitute lies with Sunshine Entertainment. The platform must provide written confirmation within 24 hours; failure to do so will be considered as acceptance." He closed the contract. "There is no ambiguity."

Chen put the water cup back.

There was a silence of about five seconds.

"Okay," he said, "when can you give me the list?"

Zeng Hao pushed another document on the table over.

Chen Shangwu looked down—it was a replacement plan that had already been prepared, including artist information, schedule, and recording coordination time. It was three pages long, neatly formatted, and even the filing format required by iQiyi had been matched.

"This is—"

"It was prepared yesterday," Zeng Hao said. "Your legal department can check the format. If there are no problems, we can proceed with the process today."

Chen, the business manager, held the three pages of paper, looked at them for a while, and then remained silent.

Attorney Qian reached out to take a look, flipped through it, pushed his glasses up, and remained expressionless.

The project manager leaned over for a look and said in a low voice, "This Xu Kunkun is...?"

"A trainee at the company," Xu Wen interjected from the side, "18 years old, specializing in singing and dancing, and her schedule is perfectly compatible."

The project manager nodded and didn't say anything more, but there was something unsuppressed in his expression—the kind of nonchalant attitude one might have for a "temporary intern filling in at a small company."

Chen, the business manager, handed the documents back and looked up: "We'll go through the internal procedures and give you an answer today."

"Um."

The reply came at 2 PM.

Written confirmation, stamped, and in the correct format.

Xu Wen sent a scanned copy of the confirmation letter to the work group, adding "Received," then knocked on the door and came in, placing the printout on Zeng Hao's desk: "I'm leaving. The TV station also sent a message this afternoon, saying they want to schedule a time to discuss a long-term cooperation framework."

Zeng Hao was looking at something else and didn't look up: "Reply to them, next week."

"Okay." Xu Wen stood at the door for a second. "By the way, Chu Ran has a rehearsal class this afternoon. She left her backpack at the film set and asked me to help her carry it. I'll have the driver deliver it to her later."

"Um."

Xu Wen went out.

Zeng Hao picked up the confirmation letter on the table, glanced at the stamp, put it back, and continued to look at the document in his hand.

He knew about THAAD's window; he'd known about it since last year.