"A big bowl."
Shang Yechu put down her chopsticks, took out a charger, and used the restaurant's outlet to charge her brick-like Renxing phone.
Shang Yechu began searching for questions such as "screenwriter of 'Qingyun Biography'" and "who wrote the script for 'Qingyun Biography'".
Although the production team of "The Legend of Qingyun" claims that the script was painstakingly created by more than a dozen screenwriters, this claim might fool the audience, but it won't fool industry insiders. A drama is a whole, and the script is the foundation. Too many people involved in scriptwriting will only result in a deformed child with three heads, six arms, and twelve legs.
When Shang Yechu was a child, he read a story about a mother begging for rice to support her son's schooling. When the cafeteria cook saw the rice she handed in, he was furious—because she had mixed different kinds of rice together: early rice, late rice, coarse rice, refined rice, old rice, and new rice. Such a mixed rice was impossible to cook.
The same principle applies to screenwriting. If a dozen screenwriters are all trying to cook rice in one pot, it's no wonder the rice gets burnt!
The reasons or purposes behind the production team's publicity stunts are easy to guess. Among these dozen or so screenwriters, there must be one with significant influence, perhaps even someone who oversees the entire project. And this screenwriter, in terms of experience and ability, is probably not very convincing.
"The Legend of Qingyun" is a big-budget production; Shang Yechu conservatively estimates that the investment is at least 200 million yuan. Everyone involved in such a project is under immense pressure.
If the show becomes a hit and soars to new heights, then everyone will be happy. The screenwriter who orchestrated the entire production can then reap the rewards, do some marketing, and if managed properly, becoming a mini-Zheng Bohan wouldn't be a problem.
If, unfortunately, there's even a one in ten thousand chance the show will flop, someone has to take the blame for such a big production. At that point, the screenwriter who stole the show can hide behind a dozen other screenwriters, feigning death, or even shifting all the blame, pretending to be an innocent, pure white lotus flower.
However, such a good thing definitely requires consulting with the director. Just who is this person who could get a big director like Xu Hanwen to give him the green light?
Shang Yechu searched for a long time without success, and the rice had already been served. She simply stopped thinking about these things and focused on eating.
A figure sat down in front of Shang Yechu and silently watched her.
"You still eat so much."
When Shang Yechu saw this person, her appetite immediately plummeted. "You're here to gather inspiration for the restaurant?"
Sheng Wenzhi said helplessly, "Do you think that writers have nothing else to do besides gathering material?"
Shang Yechu frowned and put down her chopsticks: "You're here to freeload?"
Sheng Wenzhi glanced at the glistening pig's trotters on the plate with disgust: "Don't worry. I won't fight you for it. I don't eat meat."
Shang Yechuxin said that even if you eat meat, you won't get a share.
Sheng Wenzhi said to herself, "My home is around here. I come to this restaurant occasionally."
Shang Yechu calculated the property prices in this area and was somewhat astonished. Sheng Wenzhi has become so successful as a writer? But neither in this life nor in the past, has she ever heard of such a writer? Grandma Hu's bookstore doesn't carry her books either. Could she be using a pen name?
"Meeting you today was just a coincidence," Sheng Wenzhi continued.
Shang Yechu nodded perfunctorily and continued to eat, engrossed in her meal.
While Shang Yechu's eating manners weren't exactly uncouth, they were certainly far from elegant.
Seeing this, Sheng Wenzhi couldn't help but say, "Could you please be a little more careful?"
"What are you being careful about?" Shang Yechu asked, puzzled. "You're superstitious about this? Then you can stand at ease, turn around, and leave."
Sheng Wenzhi was stunned for a moment: "You've really changed a lot. You're very different from before."
During her junior high school years, Shang Yechu possessed a naive kindness and gentleness. Even after being hurt by Sheng Wenzhi, she did not hold a grudge against her, but simply stopped speaking to Sheng Wenzhi altogether.
The current Shang Yechu... every word he says is barbed and sarcastic, which makes Sheng Wenzhi very uncomfortable.
Upon hearing this, Shang Yechu thought of a question: "Since I have changed so much, how did you recognize me?"
Shang Yechu believes that she is completely different now from when she was in junior high school. Even her own mother, Ji Ya, might not recognize her if she were standing here.
Sheng Wenzhi hesitated for a moment before saying, "Although you are very different from three years ago, actually... I have a habit of not recognizing people by their appearance, but by their details."
Artists and writers often have eccentricities, and Sheng Wenzhi is no exception. Many people praise her for her skill in writing about people because she enjoys observing the details of others in her daily life.
"Details?" Shang Yechu repeated the word softly. "What details about me are there?"
Sheng Wenzhi pointed to the spot on Shang Yechu's arm from a distance: "You have two very thin scars here, which happen to form an X shape."
Shang Yechu unconsciously touched the scar on her arm. It was from when her younger brother, Shang Jiayu, was playing with a pencil as a child, and he had scratched her with the sharpened tip of a pencil.
Shang Yechu is the older sister and needs to help her parents soothe the children. After being scratched the first time, she wanted to dodge, but Shang Jiayu threatened her, saying that if Shang Yechu dared to run away, he would tell their parents that her older sister had bullied her.
Shang Yechu was quite young at the time and was terrified of Shang Jiayu's accusation. Therefore, although tears welled up in her eyes from the pain, she obediently stayed where she was, allowing Shang Jiayu to make another cut.
Sheng Wenzhi continued, "This scar is very rare; I've only ever seen it on you. With this in mind, looking at your features again, I can vaguely see a trace of your past."
"I see." Shang Yechu put down her hand and continued eating the pork hock.
Seeing that another awkward silence was about to break out, Sheng Wenzhi said, "What about you? Why didn't you recognize me? It's only been three years, you can't have forgotten me, can you?"
Shang Yechu paused for a moment.
How could she explain to Sheng Wenzhi that although their junior high school days were three years ago, in her memory, the last time she saw Sheng Wenzhi was fifteen years ago?
Shang Yechu said vaguely, "You've changed quite a bit too. You're even prettier than you were in junior high."
That's the truth. If Sheng Wenzhi in junior high was a flower bud waiting to bloom, then she is now a beautiful and independent epiphyllum, blooming at its peak.
Sheng Wenzhi's face twisted for a moment before she said, "I don't think that's a valid reason."
Shang Yechu, in a fit of despair, said, "Think what you want. Just consider me stupid and face-blind."
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