Shang Yechu dared not let his guard down: "I've been raising this group of shrimp soldiers and crab generals for a while now, so it's not a big deal for them to repay me. Just don't go too far and make people unhappy."
“You don’t need to worry about that.” Ji Juntao turned his head. “This is what you should be worried about.”
Ji Juntao turned the computer screen towards Shang Yechu, where the second major theme was prominently displayed:
Preparation.
The main theme of "Preparation" is followed by a series of sub-themes, including:
script;
Director (etc.);
Budget;
Shooting plan;
Storyboard;
actor;
Film crew;
equipment;
rehearse.
While filming "The Mute Woman," Ji Juntao had already accumulated a lot of experience as a producer. Now, returning to the role for the second time, he is equally adept, and the list he has compiled is very concise, yet every item is essential.
Ji Juntao marked the three categories: "script", "director", and "actor".
"This is your responsibility."
Every time Ji Juntao marked a mark, Shang Yechu's heart would tremble. She couldn't tell whether it was from nervousness or excitement.
"Leave all this to me?" Shang Yechu swallowed hard. "Are you sure? Putting everything else aside, what does the script have to do with me?"
Ji Juntao tapped the side of his computer: "It's very important. You think buying the artwork will solve everything?"
“Rewriting the script is the screenwriter’s job; the director is the one who should be working with him.” Shang Yechu certainly knew this. “Are you worried that Sheng Wenzhi won’t cooperate? Our company also employs several screenwriters; translating the novel 1:1 into a Chinese script shouldn’t be difficult—”
Sheng Wenzhi has already abandoned this novel, so he probably wouldn't mind if Shang Yechu found a screenwriter to rewrite it, as long as the changes aren't too drastic.
"He's so easy to talk to?" Ji Juntao's eyes widened. "I had a meal with him once, and he acted like he couldn't understand a word the whole time. He was either spacing out and daydreaming, or asking, 'Can I leave now?' or saying, 'You're right'—but I was clearly eating my food and didn't say anything! I thought it would be difficult to communicate with him."
Communicating with him was indeed difficult, but Shang Yechu had already mastered the knack of communication: there was no need to argue with Sheng Wenzhi by agreeing with him; they could simply each say their own thing.
"Is he alright..." Shang Yechu glanced towards the door. The bedroom was well soundproofed; Sheng Wenzhi shouldn't be able to hear her. "I understand. I'll tell him."
"If I'd known he'd be so easy to talk to, you should have talked to him about 'Celestial Phenomena' and 'The Firebearer of the Long Night'...those are absolutely amazing books." Ji Juntao started daydreaming again. "What if you really couldn't get him to agree?"
"We can't reach an agreement," Shang Yechu said curtly.
Using past favors... well, not really favors. A debt? Sheng Wenzhi no longer felt indebted. In short, something unknown had somehow managed to acquire the book "The Rules General Store," which was the limit of what Shang Yechu and Sheng Wenzhi's relationship had reached.
Shang Yechu had a premonition that Sheng Wenzhi's transfer of the book was actually a way of severing ties with the "guilty" Sheng Wenzhi of the past. After the movie was finished, there would really be nothing left between the two of them.
Although it sounds absurd, that's how Sheng Wenzhi thinks. He probably really does think that way.
“Alright.” Ji Juntao didn’t press the issue. “The script and the budget are closely related. You need to keep an eye on him and tell him not to write any big, exciting scenes. We can’t afford to burn through the budget. If necessary, delete or revise it.”
The necessary cuts and alterations due to insufficient funding should be acceptable to Sheng Wenzhi. Besides, there really aren't any truly spectacular scenes in the later episodes anyway.
"I understand." Shang Yechu nodded in agreement. "Do I have to find a director for you? The two junior directors at our company are quite good. They've made a lot of money from their short films."
"They can only be assistant directors at most," Ji Juntao said swiftly. "We have to let Xiao Gu come."
Ancient Chinese Literature?
"He's filming with Gao Sanfu right now, he doesn't have time," Shang Yechu shook her head. She knew better than Ji Juntao how useful Gu Wenhua was, but he just didn't have the schedule. They should have hired him as soon as possible.
"That drama about Gao Sanfu still has a long way to go, it'll take at least two or three years to film. Even just shooting a scene at Taifu Mountain takes three months. That's just how he is." Ji Juntao narrowed his eyes. "Is Xiao Gu just going to sit there for the next two or three years? Directing is a profession that takes practice. Don't let Xiao Gu really turn into an editor."
That makes some sense. But Shang Yechu was still puzzled: "Why don't you go and talk to him?"
Ji Juntao was a mentor to Gu Wenhua; without Ji Juntao, Gu Wenhua would still be in the process of graduating.
“I felt like I was being coerced or forced. You can’t force someone to do something you don’t want to do.” Ji Juntao typed a key. “Go talk to him. Don’t say I want to film it, just say you want to film it. Tell him it’s fine if he’s willing, but if he’s not, then forget it. Don’t force him. See what his true attitude is.”
Shang Yechu recalled Gu Wenhua's timid and submissive demeanor, and still shook her head: "He was like a mouse seeing a cat when he saw me. I don't think I could force his true attitude out of him. There's not much difference between using a favor and coercion."
Gu Wenhua didn't even dare to look Shang Yechu in the eye; he probably would wet his pants just from hearing her voice. He didn't know what had happened; this once-great director had been tortured like an illegal immigrant by Qingping Entertainment.
Ji Juntao: "...If that's how you think, there's nothing I can do. So here's what we'll do, I'll go ask him, okay? I'll say, this is the script you wanted him to film, but I don't agree with you filming it, let him refuse. Let Gu Wenhua make his own decision, whether to listen to you or to me."
Ji Juntao clapped his hands and concluded: "A double negative equals an affirmation, and a double fear equals a tie. Let's see if my gratitude to him overcomes his 'fear' of you, or if his... 'fear' of you is stronger."
Ji Juntao glanced sideways at Shang Yechu: "Now he's finally following his heart, hasn't he?"
Upon reflection, Shang Ye realized that Ji Juntao's words made some sense. It was better than not even trying.
"Alright then," Shang Yechu warned, "I need to be there when you ask, so you don't pull any tricks on me."
Don't scare Gu Wenhua out of his wits; he's the future cash cow of Qingping Entertainment.
"Hmm." Ji Juntao remained noncommittal. "Finally, there's the cast. You can pick any actor from our company you want. If they're available, I'll get them for you. For such a small production, the investors shouldn't be cramming in too many people. You'll have the final say on 90% of the main actors in this film."
Only actors and directors can clearly perceive the talent and skill of other actors; this is a realm that Ji Juntao can never enter.
Ji Juntao can spot an actor's potential and what style and approach suits them best. But when it comes to directing actors for a specific script, only Shang Yechu can handle that—Gu Wenhua doesn't know the other artists at Qingping Entertainment; he's lucky if he can recognize them all. He can't be expected to screen them all.
There are plenty of film crews in the entertainment industry, so finding one won't be a problem. The storyboard, shooting schedule, and rehearsals will be handled by the director and assistant director, which can be discussed later. The rest is Ji Juntao's job.
Shang Yechu and Ji Juntao talked until late at night, becoming more and more excited as they talked, almost forgetting the time.
Unlike the small-scale production of "The Mute Woman," this is a true commercial film. Shang Yechu has acted in many films, but this is the first time she has truly participated in the decision-making process of a film.
Ji Juntao, who was used to being in control, reluctantly handed over power to Shang Yechu this time, giving her many instructions. Shang Yechu wrote them all down.
They talked until the wee hours of the morning, until Ji Juntao's eyes were practically glazed over, before finally stopping.
Ji Juntao fell asleep immediately. Shang Yechu had intended to do some pre-sleep skincare, and with all the bottles and jars laid out in front of her, she suddenly remembered something.
Oh no! Sheng Wenzhi is still hiding in the study!
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