103 paused for a moment: "Sometimes I really don't know what you're thinking."
Shang Yechu got up and pressed and held the power button. The phone she had dropped happened to be the secondhand Renxing phone that Shop Owner Lu had given her. This thing was quite durable; although it was cracked on both the front and back, it still turned on smoothly with a ringing sound.
Shang Yechu skillfully clicked into the CTVB official website. The ratings for "Tianban" were already out. The third episode had a rating of 1.99%, and the fourth episode had a rating of 2.12%, barely climbing over the "2" watershed. At the same time, the ratings for "Feihua Zhuyue Ling Pingsheng" followed closely behind, with the fourth episode already jumping to 1.89%, the gap between it and "Tianban" was now negligible.
Compared to the overwhelming praise online and the massive promotional campaign by Ruguan TV, this pace of progress is truly underwhelming. Shang Yechu even considered watching "Flying Flowers Chasing the Moon: A Lifetime of Delight" to see just how entertaining a drama could make the entire production team's hard work pale in comparison.
Mood is a strange thing. She was incredibly busy a while ago, but with the hope that "Half of the Sky" would be a huge hit, she wasn't too tired. Now, after lying on the ground for over four hours without doing anything, Shang Yechu felt utterly exhausted, not even wanting to move a finger.
Shang Yechu slowly stood up and walked to the refrigerator. Recently, her appetite had increased, so Aunt Song would cook several dishes at once and refrigerate them. She could just heat them up when she wanted to eat.
Looking at the tempting cold dish under the plastic wrap, Shang Yechu suddenly felt nauseous.
"Bang!"
The refrigerator door and the refrigerator frame suddenly collided, shaking some of the frost inside the refrigerator off.
The warm yellow light in the study illuminated the scripts, textbooks, and miscellaneous books piled on the desk. Shang Yechu had been studying English on his own recently, and several English textbooks were also tucked among them.
Shang Yechu's study wasn't open to unauthorized entry, so it was messier than other areas. Lately, she'd been so busy that there wasn't even a sliver of space left on the desk. Impatiently, Shang Yechu pushed the books aside and simply sat down on the desk.
As far as the eye could see, there were walls and shelves full of books. Among them, books and materials related to film studies, acting, cinematography, and marketing occupied an entire wall. Shang Yechu looked at them from afar, but did not want to touch them.
Two calligraphy scrolls hang on the left wall. One is a piece commissioned by Ji Juntao, which reads "A favorable wind lends its strength, sending me soaring to the clouds." Every room in Qingping Entertainment has the same one hanging there. The other is written by Grandma Hu, with four large, bold characters: "Ten Surges, Ten Victories." It was written by the old lady herself when we first moved in.
Where is the wind from? Where are the clouds from? Ten sweeps and ten decisive battles, how should I sweep and ten decisive battles?
Shang Yechu traced each stroke of the character "决" with his eyes. When he reached the last stroke, a sudden thought struck him, and he turned around as if he had realized something.
Directly opposite these two calligraphy pieces stands an exquisite cabinet. Behind the tempered glass door lies a blank trophy box.
That was the trophy box for the Best Newcomer Award at the Ying Shi Awards. The trophy had already been given to Teacher Qi Ming, and Shang Yechu replaced it with an empty box and the script for "The Mute Woman."
As if bewitched, Shang Yechu got off the desk and slowly walked to the cabinet.
I raised my hand, and my fingertips felt cold and astringent; I hadn't touched a gift box, but glass.
Shang Yechu raised her eyes and saw a young woman's face reflected in the glass. Her beautiful face was somewhat pale, and her eyes held a hint of weariness and stubbornness.
The hand covering the glass slowly clenched into a fist.
The tightness in her hand skin became increasingly noticeable. Shang Yechu glanced at the lines on her skin, and after a long while, she suddenly realized what was strange.
It turns out it's because it resembles a wooden doll.
Puppet... a puppet. A puppet!
The woman on the glass suddenly sharpened her eyes, turned around, and walked away.
Shang Yechu strode to the table and sat down in her wicker chair. The books beside her were scattered haphazardly, and Shang Yechu impatiently pushed them aside, causing them to clatter to the floor.
The computer screen lit up. A deluge of web pages, documents, and data flooded the screen, quickly filling it to overflowing. Opposite this mass of bytes and images were a pair of eyes burning with anger and resentment.
Why doubt yourself?
Why take the blame upon yourself?
Why can't the problem be blamed on someone else?
Why should one feel guilty, anxious, and self-pitying just because the ratings don't meet expectations, and have no complaints about having their schedule changed by others?
Ye Chu is the winner of the Best Newcomer Award at the Ying Shi Awards. She played the most talked-about role in the phenomenal palace drama "Yun Qing Ji". The "Xiao Feng Que" series she starred in is the signature film of Huashi Culture Project. Her film "Ya Po" won 100 million yuan at the box office despite being a niche subject and art film. She convinced Xu Hanwen and Zheng Bohan with her acting skills and became the protagonist of "Tian Ban" with dignity.
She doesn't have audience appeal, so who does? She can't drive viewership, so who can? If her acting is bad, then 90% of the actors in the Chinese entertainment industry are useless!
Shang Yechu must find out the real reason why "Half a Sky" didn't meet viewership expectations. And that reason definitely doesn't lie with Yechu!
The keyboard clattered and clicked, seemingly on the verge of a massive fire. Web pages piled upon web pages, video feeds stacked on top of video feeds on the computer screen, like a niche game of Jenga. Luckily, Ji Juntao had built Shang Yechu a top-of-the-line computer; otherwise, the CPU would probably have given out a warning long ago. Shang Yechu buried himself in this sea of data, analyzing, sampling, interpreting…
If watching videos at double speed is still too slow, then go for four times speed; Weibo's real-time search results scroll on the left, while CTVB's viewership curve meanders on the right. The sky outside the window changes from dark blue to orange-red, then to pale blue, then clear and deep blue. Finally, it turns into a warm, soft golden color.
It continued until evening.
"Smack!"
With a loud thud, Shang Yechu threw the mouse onto the table. The mouse slipped off the table and dangled from its string from the edge, swaying precariously like a hanged mouse.
Shang Yechu stared intently at the screen, feeling as if she could hardly breathe.
To her utter surprise, or rather, in her wildest dreams, the biggest problem was—it was—
"Shang Yechu!"
The study door was kicked open, and Shang Yechu looked up in surprise to see Ji Juntao standing in the doorway, looking travel-worn and panting.
"I know where the problem lies!"
Shang Yechu and Ji Juntao spoke at the same time.
Shang Yechu suddenly stood up.
"You go first!"
The lead actor of "Half the Sky" and General Manager Ji shouted at the same time.
Ji Juntao stomped his foot and held up three fingers: "Three—two—one—"
"You're behind TV!"
Ye Chu and her partner said in unison.
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