nucmednet Isn't Chapter 79 too harsh?
Isn't Chapter 79 too harsh?
In the afternoon, Dilireba came to the company to discuss the schedule for the next project.
They were talking about the filming schedule of "Eternal Love" and the issue of filming multiple projects simultaneously.
She also has an offer to star in a modern drama, but the two shows have conflicting schedules, so she has to decide which one to choose.
Zeng Hao pushed the two contracts and schedule in front of her and told her to look at them herself.
Dilraba sat down opposite her. Her simple casual clothes couldn't hide her radiant beauty. She had deep-set eyes and thick eyelashes. As she turned the pages, her profile was both sharp and gentle. She looked up after turning a couple of pages, her voice soft yet resilient.
"Could the urban drama be postponed by three weeks?"
"It depends on the other production team."
"Could you ask for me?"
"Um."
She looked down at the contract again, her fingertip pointing to the line about the filming schedule for "Eternal Love": "It says 26 weeks of filming here, will it actually exceed that?"
"Following Peng Bing's pace, it won't go too far over."
"What happens if it exceeds the limit?"
"Article 9 of the contract states that the production company will bear the costs of overdue payments, which will not affect your payment."
Dilireba flipped to the ninth article, scanned it, closed the contract, and pushed the two documents back.
The office window was slightly ajar, and the slanting sunlight streamed in, landing directly on her hesitant hand. When she withdrew her hand, the light fell sparsely onto the desk.
She didn't rush to get up. She picked up her teacup, took a sip, put it down, and turned to look out the window.
Zeng Hao picked up the schedule, marked the urban drama section, and prepared to have Xu Wen contact the production team.
"The rumor that Dingsheng Media spread last time," Dilireba casually mentioned, "said that your relationship with me was ambiguous."
Zeng Hao didn't even look up: "Mm."
"You didn't say a word."
"Um."
She spun the teacup halfway around, stared at the rim, and said softly, "Explanations are only for those who don't believe you."
After he finished speaking, Zeng Hao raised his eyes and glanced at her.
She didn't look at him; she was still slowly turning the cup.
"I just want to know," she said, lowering her voice, but swallowing the words back. When she looked up again, she had switched back to her serious demeanor when discussing work, "Could you help me urge the urban drama crew? I need to give them an answer by the day after tomorrow at the latest."
"it is good."
She stood up, picked up her bag, and left.
Zeng Hao put the schedule on the table and picked up the iQiyi contract next to him.
Appendix Two to this contract was revised three times.
The first draft was a standard exclusive agreement, stipulating that the production company could not engage in substantive negotiations with any third party regarding broadcasting rights.
The second draft elaborated on "substantive negotiations" by adding a clause that includes, but is not limited to, formal meetings, written correspondence, and oral offers.
In the third draft, he added a half-sentence after "oral offer": any form of consultation through any channel shall be regarded as substantive negotiation, and once triggered, it shall constitute a breach of contract.
After reading it, the legal counsel remained silent for a long time, saying, "Isn't this too harsh?"
Zeng Hao simply told him to add it directly.
This half-sentence comes in handy now.
Chen's message came around 9 p.m., with a strangely subtle tone, somewhere between a serious report and a casual rant.
"Someone contacted our channel staff, saying they wanted to discuss a broadcast collaboration for 'Ning An Ru Meng'. At first, we didn't take it seriously, but later we checked their background and found that their shareholders were involved with Xinghe Capital."
After reading it, Zeng Hao replied: "How many people did they meet, and how long did they talk?"
Chen Business: It was just a meal. Our channel people said it was an industry gathering, but we didn't expect the other party to have such a hidden agenda. It lasted about two hours.
Zeng Hao: Did you mention any specific project names?
Chen, the business manager, mentioned that he had been paying attention to several period drama projects recently, and that he had heard that Ning'an Rumeng was on iQiyi and wanted to learn more about it. That was the last sentence, and we didn't respond.
Zeng Hao pulled out Appendix 2 of the contract, found the exclusivity clause, and compared it with what Chen, the business manager, had said.
The project name is clear, the broadcast channels are also revealed, and the intention couldn't be clearer—Appendix II, Article 3, Section 2, directly crosses the line.
He replied to Chen Business: Have your legal department prepare a written record tonight, clearly stating the time, place, and content, and handle it according to Article 3, Paragraph 2 of Appendix 2, and send me a copy.
Chen, the business manager, paused for two minutes before replying: "Okay, I'll have my legal department finish it tonight and send it to you tomorrow morning. Besides, did you anticipate this when you signed the contract?"
Zeng Hao didn't reply. He closed Attachment 2 and tossed it aside.
Whether or not it was anticipated is not important.
The important thing is that the words are written down; once they're written, they can be used—it's only a matter of time.
Xu Wen brought in a glass of water, placed it on the table, glanced at the contract next to Zeng Hao, and looked down at the page with the exclusivity clause.
"Is Galaxy Capital up to something again?"
"We've changed our approach; we're going through the platform."
"How do we block this time?"
"Article 3, Paragraph 2 of Annex II".
Xu Wen read it through from beginning to end, and when he saw the sentence "Any form of consultation through any channel shall be deemed as substantive negotiation", he looked up and glanced at Zeng Hao.
"Did you know they would do this when you added that sentence?"
Zeng Hao picked up his water glass, took a sip, didn't reply, pushed the contract aside, and picked up the next document.
Xu Wen glanced at the contract again, folded it up and put it back, muttering under his breath, "Fine, I won't ask anymore. You're a genius."
She walked out, then turned back at the door: "Chu Ran is coming over tonight. She said she wants to go over two scenes again. She confirmed it with Peng Bing this afternoon, you know?"
"Um."
"Should I let her in directly?"
Come here.
When Chu Ran came in, she was holding a script in her arms. The pages were worn and old, with several pages having folded corners, and the pages were covered with pencil markings.
She sat down on the sofa opposite her, flipped to Yu Wanyin's last scene in the script, looked down at it for a while, then looked up and asked, "Peng Bing said that this scene needs a design where she's facing away from the camera. After Yu Wanyin knows everything, there's a turning motion. How long do you think the pause before turning around should be?"
"What do you think?"
"There's no need to pause intentionally, just switch directly. Pausing makes it look like you're waiting to break character, while switching directly is too abrupt and the emotions don't connect."
"Then slow down your movements, not stop, but slow down the pace of your turn."
Chu Ran held a pencil between her fingers, wrote a few words on the script, and looked up at Zeng Hao.
She was born with a clean and refined appearance, without heavy makeup. Her eyebrows and eyes were sharp, her profile was soft, and she also possessed a tenacious spirit that refused to admit defeat.
"Have you mentioned this idea to Peng Bing?"
"no."
"I'll go talk to him."
"Um."
She kept flipping through the script, then stopped after a few pages without looking up: "You didn't eat anything today, did you?"
Zeng Hao didn't respond.
"I passed by the convenience store downstairs on my way here," she said, taking a paper bag out of her bag and placing it on the coffee table.
The paper bag contained two rice balls, still warm to the touch; you could feel their heat even through the thin paper.
Zeng Hao finished flipping through the documents at hand, reached for the paper bag, tore it open, and started munching on it.
Chu Ran didn't look up, turned to the next page of the script, and smiled softly.
The filming in the studio went on all night until almost dawn. After finishing her lines, Chu Ran didn't leave. She sat on the sofa, flipping through the script, occasionally replying to a message, and glancing up at the filming progress.
After finishing the script, she folded the book and put it aside, leaned against the back of the sofa, closed her eyes, and fell asleep in no time.
Zeng Hao didn't tell her to leave.
She was a light sleeper; she would stir at the slightest noise in the shed until the surrounding sounds gradually faded and her breathing became even, at which point she would truly fall into a deep sleep.
The warm desk lamp in the office was on, and the light fell on her, making her hands, which were resting on the sofa armrests, appear delicate and white.
Zeng Hao put down the last page of the document and sat in his chair without moving.
She quietly occupied a corner, not heavy, but real, and even the temperature in the room seemed a little warmer than usual.
He got up, took his coat from the back of the chair, and tiptoed over to cover her with it, his movements so gentle that he didn't touch her at all.
He went back to his original seat and picked up the next document.
The sky outside the window was a deep blue, just before dawn; it would be daylight in two hours.
As soon as it was light, Chu Ran woke up first.
She sat up, her coat slipping halfway off her shoulder. She reached up to adjust it, looked down and realized it wasn't her coat. She then looked across at the other side.
Zeng Hao remained seated in the same spot, but the stack of documents on the table had been replaced.
She didn't ask about the coat, got up, folded it and placed it on the sofa armrest, then picked up the backpack next to her.
The backpack zipper wasn't fully closed, and it was stuffed with thick textbooks, with a corner of the cover peeking out, bearing the words "Drama Psychology".
She stuffed more stuff into the bag, but the zipper still wouldn't close, so she simply left it open and carried it on her shoulder.
"I'm going to the Shanghai Theatre Academy; I have an exam today."
"Go."
She walked towards the door, glanced back at him when she reached it, said nothing, and then pushed the door open and went out.
Zeng Hao sat in the chair without moving. After a while, Xu Wen came in and saw the coat folded on the sofa.
He picked up the clothes and hung them on the clothes rack behind the door.
"I'll take her," Xu Wen said. "Do you want me to give the order, or should I arrange it myself?"
"You arrange it."
After Xu Wen left, Zeng Hao moved the documents on the table aside, revealing the notebook underneath.
It was something Chu Ran casually tossed here last night when she was flipping through scripts. It wasn't a script; it was a lecture note from the Shanghai Theatre Academy's acting department that she took out of her bag, with the cover facing down.
He flipped it over and saw her name written in ballpoint pen in the bottom right corner, with a parenthesis next to it containing just two words: "Guaranteed to pass".
Zeng Hao placed the lecture notes face up on the corner of the table and picked up the documents again to review them.
When Xu Wen returned, he pushed a screenshot from his phone onto the table.
Zeng Hao was staring at the shooting log for "Ning An Ru Meng" this week, glancing down at the title.
Where does the production team get their confidence in casting a college student with no acting experience as the male lead?
This article was published by a well-known entertainment observation account with a considerable number of followers, and the comment section has already received hundreds of comments.
The pinned post with the most likes reads, "Small company with a gambler's mentality, treating the audience like guinea pigs," followed by a string of similar emojis.
The main text exposes Zhang Linghe's true colors completely.
He is currently studying at Nanjing Normal University and has never acted in any film or television works. His first acting role is as the male lead in a period drama.
The accompanying photo is a side shot of the opening ceremony; the angle is ordinary, and the people in the photo are barely noticeable.
The article concludes with a grand statement, saying that it looks forward to the final product proving the casting decision and that the market will have its own judgment.
Xu Wen stood by the table with his arms crossed, his voice simmering with anger: "These people have changed their tactics. Last time they were picking on the production, this time they're going straight for Zhang Linghe."
Zeng Hao picked up the screenshot and looked at it from beginning to end, then put it back on the table.
"Is Mr. Chen available right now?"
"Let me ask."
Xu Wen had only been gone for two minutes when he poked half his head back in: "If you have time, just call me."
Chen, the business manager, answered the phone very quickly and went straight to the point: "Have you read that article from Dingsheng?"
"I've seen it," Zeng Hao said. "I have some footage, a two-minute-long actual scene from Zhang Linghe's first scene. Can your platform release it today?"
Chen Shangwu paused for a moment: "You already have footage?"
"It was prepared a long time ago."
"...You've kept it all this time?"
"Promotional materials need to be prepared in advance. The earlier you prepare them, the less trouble you will have. Now we have a good opportunity to distribute them."
Chen, the business manager, paused for two seconds, then chuckled, "Okay, send it over. I'll have the team cut it into a vertical format, add the platform logo, and release it this afternoon. Do you have any ideas for the copy?"
"No copywriting needed."
"what?"
"Just post clips, don't write anything else."
Chen, the business manager, was taken aback again: "Just like that?"
"Um."
"...I understand, you're letting the fragments speak for themselves."
Zeng Hao sent the source files and hung up the phone.
Xu Wen poked his head in from outside the door: "Are we going to fight back?"
"It's already being done."
Xu Wen pulled his head back in, then immediately poked it back in: "Aren't we going to directly counter Ding Sheng's article?"
"Need not."
The core of Ding Sheng's article was to insist that students with zero experience would inevitably botch their films.
Whether this argument holds water or not, there's no need for verbal debate; once the clip is released, the audience will know for themselves.
Moreover, the popularity of that article just happened to generate buzz for "Ning An Ru Meng," and once the excerpt was released, the popularity immediately went up.
Dingsheng essentially lit the first fire of publicity for him for free, saving him the trouble of even starting the fire.
In the afternoon, the crew filmed Yu Wanyin's turning-around scene, the one that Chu Ran and Zeng Hao had talked about before.
The design of Yu Wanyin turning around with her back to the camera after learning the whole truth.
Before filming began, Peng Bing gave Chu Ran a few instructions. Chu Ran nodded, walked into the set, and stood with her back to the camera.
"Ready, set, action!"
There were no lines in the set, just a simple turning motion.
Chu Ran stood there, and even her back view conveyed her emotions. Her shoulders were relaxed, but her back was straight. The two states blended together, exuding an indescribable calmness, as if she had cried to the extreme and completely let go before standing there.
She turned around slowly, without deliberately pausing for the right rhythm. Her movements were extremely slow, just in time with the camera's pace. Her emotions flowed naturally, without any trace of acting or stiffness as if she were waiting for an effect.
When she turned around, her eyes were dry, but that dryness was the result of crying until she was exhausted, and it was completely different from the clear eyes she usually had when she hadn't cried.
The photographer moved forward half a step, locking the lens firmly onto her eyes, taking up most of the frame.
Peng Bing didn't rush to call a stop, and filmed for another six seconds before speaking.
"Let's go this way."
Chu Ran walked out of the set, picked up the water glass on the chair, took a sip, her face expressionless, and lowered her head to flip through the script to look at the next scene.
Her eyes and brows are clear and bright, her profile is sharp and clean, and when she doesn't smile, she has a quiet and aloof air about her. Yet, she has a soft and gentle temperament, and the moment she stands there, she becomes the most captivating presence in the camera's view.
Zeng Hao sat in front of the monitor without moving.
That turn was almost identical to the scene in his memory, so much so that for a moment when he was staring at the screen, he couldn't tell whether it was a memory or the reality in front of him.
Peng Bing walked over and said in a low voice, "This girl is getting better and better as the filming goes on."
Zeng Hao looked away from the monitor and didn't reply.
It's normal for her to be different; she shouldn't be like this in the first place.
Chu Ran had just finished tidying up the script when her phone lit up. She glanced down at it and a slight smile played on her lips.
Tian Xiwei: How did you do on the exam?
Chu Ran: It's alright, I stayed on topic. I wrote the paper from the perspective of emotional memory, and it went quite smoothly.
Tian Xiwei: See, I told you that having real-world material makes writing easier.
Chu Ran: Yes, you need to act before you write theory, so you have something in your head.
Tian Xiwei: Then you owe me a hot pot meal.
Chu Ran: I owe you. We'll arrange it on Friday. I'll go.
Tian Xiwei: You're simply a chosen one, filming and taking exams at the same time.
Chu Ran: No way, I had much less time to review than you, but I just happened to guess the questions correctly.
Tian Xiwei: You can even predict exam questions?
Chu Ran: I casually flipped through the past exam papers and guessed the general direction.
Tian Xiwei: ...This isn't just casual, it's talent.
In the evening, Chen from the business department sent feedback, along with four screenshots.
The first image shows the data one hour after the clip was released, with over 500,000 views. The pinned comment is a repost from a self-edited account, titled "I don't believe this is the actor's first film."
The second article is a follow-up analysis from three industry media outlets, focusing on the new standards for casting male leads in period dramas, whether the training model for amateur actors can be replicated, and another article directly comparing Zhang Linghe with male leads in period dramas in recent years, concluding that his camera presence and emotional control far surpass those of his peers.
The third image is the comment section of Ding Sheng's article questioning the gambler. It has been flooded with comments saying "Watch the clips before you speak." The comment that was originally the most liked by the gambler is now full of rebuttals. The latest comment reads: "If you win, are you still a gambler?"
The fourth image is a real-time trending topic on Weibo. #NingAnRuMengZhangLingHe# is ranked eleventh, purely due to natural popularity, without any paid traffic.
Chen Shangwu added: How long have you been hiding that footage?
Zeng Hao didn't reply. After looking at the four screenshots, he put his phone face down on the table.
Xu Wen came in, glanced at the screenshot on his phone on the table, and gasped: "Trending on the 11th, and they still didn't buy it?"
"Um."
"That article by Ding Sheng has now become free publicity for our show."
Zeng Hao picked up his shooting log and flipped to the shooting schedule for next week.
Xu Wen sat in the chair opposite him, took a sip of the tea he hadn't finished that afternoon, looked up and smiled, "What do you think Dingsheng is feeling right now?"
Zeng Hao didn't reply and continued flipping through the progress chart.
"Never mind," Xu Wen put down his teacup and stood up. "I think about it from their perspective; they must be feeling incredibly distressed."
She had just reached the door when her phone rang. She picked it up, glanced at it, and turned to say, "It's Wu Lianlu calling. Are you going to answer?"
"catch."
Xu Wen handed the phone in, and Zeng Hao answered it: "Teacher Wu."
"Hmm," Wu Lianluo said in his unhurried tone, "I inquired about that matter for you last time. The direction is fine, and they're interested in that area."
"Um."
"But there's a condition," he paused, "they want to—"
Suddenly, Xu Wen called out from outside, "President Zeng, Peng Bing said he needs to confirm the camera setup for tonight's night shoot with you. He's waiting in the studio. Do you want to go over there, or should I have him come over?"
Zeng Hao held his phone further away and said to the outside, "Tell him to wait a moment."
He then put the phone back to his ear: "What are your conditions?"
Wu Lianluo spoke in a relaxed, unhurried manner, as if he were chatting while holding a thermos: "I want Xue Zhijian to have a line in his Spring Festival Gala performance."
"With words?"
"Yes, it's not a blatant advertisement. It's just a casual mention in the program, a specific brand name, just three words, a certain beverage. You know, the Spring Festival Gala is on a different level, one sentence is worth three years' worth of money for a regular variety show."
Zeng Hao didn't reply. He flipped through the shooting log in his hand to last night's scene, and lightly tapped the edge of the paper with his pen.
"The other party is a domestic beverage brand that just completed its Series A funding round this year and wants to use the Spring Festival Gala to expand its reach," Wu Lianluo continued. "I get the contact fee, and Xue Zhijian gets a separate sum, which is not small, but there is only one requirement—it has to be natural and not sound like he's reciting GG lyrics."
"How many."
"They paid eight million for Xue Zhijian's penny."
Zeng Hao closed the journal and pushed it onto the corner of the table.
Eight million, a line from a Spring Festival Gala.
He recognized the brand; it would likely emerge in two years, so betting on the Spring Festival Gala timing was spot on.
But if they've already raised Series A funding and are still so stingy, it's clear they know the channels are scarce. Their straightforward pricing indicates they have a surplus budget and are open to negotiation.
"What type of program?"
"Xue Zhijian writes the comedy sketches himself; they don't interfere with the content, they just add a single sentence."
Who signed the contract?
"You sign directly with the brand, and I'll act as the middleman."
Zeng Hao picked up a pen, drew a number in the blank space on the schedule, and pushed it over: "Eight million isn't enough, twelve million."
There was a three-second silence on Wu's end, followed by a laugh: "Your negotiation is like robbery."
How much did the brand raise in its Series A funding round?
"...Two hundred million."
"During the prime time slot of the Spring Festival Gala, how many companies in the same category will fail?"
"Are you giving me a business lesson?"
"1200 yuan, with a clause added to the contract: if the broadcast effect doesn't reach the benchmark, 30% will be refunded. They can afford it, and they can afford to gamble, so this price is reasonable."
The sound of rustling documents came from the other end of the phone: "I'll ask for you, but I can't guarantee they'll agree to the refund terms."
"If you agree, then do it; if you don't, then forget it. Xue Zhijian doesn't need another opportunity."
"...Okay, I'll go talk to them." Wu Lianlu's tone was a mix of admiration and helplessness. "You're really direct."
"There's one more thing," Zeng Hao added, "brand contracts have to go through my legal department, not through any other channels."
"That's natural."
After hanging up the phone, Zeng Hao crossed out the numbers on the schedule.
Xu Wen peeked in from outside the door, his eyes saying, "I didn't eavesdrop, but I heard everything."
"The deal's done?"
"No, we'll wait for your reply."
"One thousand two..." Xu Wen murmured repeatedly, "How did you calculate that number?"
"During the prime time slot of the Spring Festival Gala, he was the only beverage brand to get exclusive exposure, and even 1,200 yuan was considered a discount."
Xu Wen nodded, then shook his head, and finally nodded again: "I understand, and I don't understand, but I think you're right."
"Where is Peng Bing?"
"Oh right! About the camera position!" Xu Wen slapped his forehead. "I'll go call him. I didn't dare to urge him when you called earlier."
She turned and ran out, her footsteps echoing in the wind, calling out in the corridor, "Director Peng! Is President Zeng free?"
When Peng Bing came in, he was holding a stack of camera position sketches. He sat down and spread them out: "Tonight's last two shows are a solo performance and a duet. For the solo performance, I want to try moving the camera position and following the subject throughout without cutting."
Zeng Hao glanced at the blueprints: "Is Chu Ran's positioning stable?"
"Sure, this girl is in great form right now. You saw her in the turn scene today. Go for it tonight, no need for more trials."
"Did the photographer rehearse the positioning?"
"I went through it twice this afternoon, no problem."
Zeng Hao pushed the blueprints back: "Okay, let's go with this. Don't move the camera positions for the two-person confrontation scene; fixed positions will hold the line better."
Peng Bing took the blueprints but didn't leave. He looked up at him and said, "There's something I've been holding back for two days."
Zeng Hao waited.
"This Chu Ran," Peng Bing said, "I've been acting for over ten years, and I've never seen another amateur actor reach this level. When you chose her, did you know she would succeed?"
Zeng Hao picked up the shooting log and flipped to tonight's shooting schedule: "We'll know once we send it in for the shoot."
But in my heart I was thinking, this girl in my past life fought her way up with sheer stubbornness, and I just didn't stop her.
Peng Bing glanced at him, asked no more questions, and left with the blueprints.
...
There are three hot pot restaurants on the street outside the east gate of Shanghai Theatre Academy. The one furthest in is the smallest, with only twelve tables. It is always full of students, and the aroma of spices from the broth wafts from 5 pm until late at night.
Tian Xiwei had already sat down, and the pot in front of her had just boiled. She tapped her fingers on her phone case, sending three messages in a row.
Tian Xiwei: Where are you?
Tian Xiwei: The pot has been boiling for three minutes.
Tian Xiwei: If you don't bring the tripe soon, I'm going to eat it all!
Chu Ran replied five minutes later: Almost there, almost there. The subway just left the station, we'll be there in two minutes.
It actually took four minutes.
Chu Ran pushed open the door and came in, a little sweat on her forehead. Half of a copy of "Acting Theory" was stuck in the zipper of her blue backpack, and the corners were curled up.
She spotted Tian Xiwei immediately, walked over and sat down, tossing her schoolbag onto the chair. Catching her breath, she asked, "You're not too late, are you?"
"The pot is almost burnt."
"Perfect, saves us from waiting." Chu Ran picked up the menu, flipped through it, and looked up. "How many portions of tripe would you like?"
"Two portions, cook for a few more seconds."
Chu Ran gestured two to the waiter, then ordered duck blood tofu and pork kidney slices. She pushed the menu back and casually brushed the stray hairs from her forehead—her hair was a bit oily, probably because she hadn't had time to wash it while filming.
Tian Xiwei picked up a mouthful of wide rice noodles with her chopsticks and glanced at her sideways: "You look pretty good."
"I slept enough last night."
"Didn't anyone in the team work through the night?"
"It's connected, but I fell asleep in the group." Chu Ran paused, then added, "But I slept quite soundly."
Tian Xi paused her chopsticks, her expression subtle: "You can still fall asleep on set? Is the atmosphere in your group that relaxed?"
Chu Ran picked up a slotted spoon to scoop out the tofu, blew on it, and asked, "How did the exam go?"
"It's alright, it should pass, but it's not as smooth as yours." Tian Xiwei put the tripe into the pot. "You chose a really tricky angle for your emotional memory, and the teacher loves that."
"I was lucky; we happened to have material for a film shoot."
"It's not luck." Tian Xiwei tapped her with her chopsticks. "You have something now. Before, when we chatted, it felt like you knew everything, but it was all from books, very thin. Now it's different. There's weight in your words. It's not that you're mature, it's that there's something weight on your shoulders."
Chu Ran stuffed the tofu into her mouth without making a sound.
Did Director Peng praise you?
"You praised me."
"How did you praise me?"
"They said things changed as filming progressed." Chu Ran picked up her teacup and took a sip. "That's what he told Zeng Hao; I overheard it from the side."
Tian Xi smiled, resting her chin on her hand.
"What are you laughing at?"
"It's nothing, I just feel like you're definitely going to be famous someday."
Chu Ran glanced at her, then looked down at the tripe: "Stop getting sentimental, let's eat."
"Okay, okay." Tian Xi picked up some tripe. "By the way, how far have you gotten on your thesis?"
"We're still short eight hundred."
"When is the deadline?"
Next Wednesday.
"How many scenes are left to film?"
"Two scenes, one tonight and one the day after tomorrow. We'll wrap up filming the day after tomorrow."
"Then I'll have time to write next week." Tian Xi nodded slightly. "You're just too resilient. You're filming, attending classes, and writing papers all at the same time. I would have collapsed long ago."
"I'm used to it." Chu Ran stirred the pot with her chopsticks, then looked up at her. "Do you still want to take on acting roles next year?"
Tian Xi was slightly taken aback: "Why are you suddenly asking this?"
"Just asking, you're a junior now, which direction are you planning to pursue?"
"I..." Tian Xiwei put down her chopsticks, thought about it seriously, "I want to act, but I'm not sure if I can handle the kind of thing you mentioned—taking on responsibilities while also acting well."
Chu Ran looked at her, the sound of boiling water from the pot filling the silence.
"You can do it," Chu Ran said calmly. "You're more resilient than you think."
Tian Xi paused for two seconds, then laughed out loud: "Durable? Where did you learn that word?"
"I heard it from the group."
"Did Zeng Hao teach you that?"
Chu Ran didn't answer, but picked up the menu and flipped through it: "Would you like to add another order of beef slices?"
Tian Xi rested her chin on her hand, a smile playing on her lips, and didn't press the matter further.
After filming the night scene, Zeng Hao came out of the studio.
The corridor lights were only half on, creating a line between light and shadow.
Xu Wen waited at the end of the corridor, holding up his phone, his expression somewhere between reporting and suppressing a laugh: "Contact Wu has replied."
"Um."
"They agreed!" Xu Wen handed over his phone. "1200 yuan, and they accepted the refund terms, but they changed one detail—the baseline needs to be verified by a third-party data agency; we can't calculate it ourselves."
Zeng Hao glanced at his phone and handed it back.
The third-party verification is reasonable, which shows that the brand's legal department is not just for show.
"Have Sister Liu arrange for the contract to be drafted tomorrow, and send over the other party's legal contact information."
"Okay." Xu Wen put his phone back in his pocket and followed behind him. "This Spring Festival Gala thing, can it really work out?"
"It depends on the production team."
"What if the production team cuts the show?"
"The contract will state that if the contract is cancelled, a refund will be issued, but the contact fee will not be refunded; that's Wu's contact fee."
Xu Wen took two steps and muttered under his breath, "You signed the contract like you were setting a trap."
Zeng Hao didn't reply, but pushed open the office door. The desk lamp was on, and Chu Ran's lecture notes were under the documents on the desk, with the words "Must Pass" facing upwards.
He sat down, moved the lecture notes aside, and picked up the expense summary at the top—Ning An Ru Meng's filming and post-production prepayment this week cost another 940,000 yuan.
With expenses open, but payments still have to wait for the broadcast schedule, we have to hold on during this period.
He turned to the last page and stopped at the line about making the remaining budget.
Xu Wen pushed open the slightly ajar door, peeked in, and said with a somewhat uncertain expression, "Oh, right, there's something—"
"This afternoon, Yang Shanshan took the initiative to contact a brand."
Zeng Hao looked up.
"She didn't go through our channels; she contacted us privately," Xu Wen said. "Someone on the brand's side knows us indirectly, so I found out."
What brand?
"RuiLan, a newly emerging domestic skincare brand." Xu Wen paused, then turned the phone around. "President Zeng, what's the background of this brand's shareholders...?"
The screen shows a screenshot of the business registration, and the third line of the shareholder list is Galaxy Capital, holding 12.7% of the shares.
"By the way... I have all the call logs, WeChat chat records, and business background information."
Zeng Hao scanned the three screenshots one by one and casually slapped them on the table.
How did you get your hands on the WeChat records?
"The people at Ruilan have a mutual partner with us. That partner noticed that Ruilan was contacting our artists privately and felt something was wrong, so they passed the buck to me." Xu Wen paused, "Yang Shanshan doesn't know the details of this."
"Did she think there was only one record in the call log?"
"Pretty much. She sent the WeChat message and then deleted it, thinking no one would keep a copy."
Zeng Hao picked up the third screenshot, stared at the words "Galaxy Capital" for a few seconds.
Ruilan is a small-scale domestic skincare brand with a Series A funding round, and there are countless similar products on the market.
Judging from the brand alone, it's just a regular collaboration invitation, nothing special.
But with Galaxy Capital among the shareholders, the whole thing changed – it wasn't a brand looking for artists anymore, it was Galaxy Capital finding a way in.
Yang Shanshan's agency contract clearly states the third clause of the exclusive agency agreement.
Artists are prohibited from discussing substantive collaborations with brands through any channels not approved by the company; verbal invitations, written correspondence, and communications all count.
Once discovered, it constitutes a breach of contract, and the penalty for breach of contract is calculated at 15% of the total contract amount for the current period.
The fourteen-minute phone call included a WeChat conversation where they discussed "specific figures that could be discussed," encompassing both verbal invitations and communication.
The third one is triggered directly.
"Have her come over this afternoon."
Xu Wen responded and turned to leave, but turned back at the door, asking, "Should I stay too?"
"Need not."
Xu Wen pushed the door open and went out, then the door closed gently.
...
When Yang Shanshan arrived, she had changed her outfit, her makeup was more refined than usual, and her hair had been styled again. She exuded a capable aura, with a hint of deliberately suppressed coquettishness in her eyes, which was the refined and dignified demeanor typical of female stars in the entertainment industry.
She sat down opposite Zeng Hao, a well-intentioned, natural smile on her face, her lips slightly upturned, looking no different from someone who was there to discuss ordinary work.
Zeng Hao didn't say anything, but pushed the three screenshots in front of her.
Yang Shanshan glanced down, her expression unchanged, and then looked up and said, "I met this person through a friend at a dinner party. They added me on their own initiative, and I just politely replied to them a couple of times."
"The call lasted fourteen minutes."
"We just chatted casually, without discussing anything substantial."
Zeng Hao tapped the line "Specific figures can be discussed" on the second screenshot with his fingertip.
Yang Shanshan's gaze fell on that line of text, pausing for half a second.
"I deleted this message immediately after sending it."
"Removing it doesn't mean it wasn't posted."
She didn't reply, her fingers curling slightly as she rested them on her lap.
"Yang Shanshan." Zeng Hao folded the screenshots and pushed them aside. "Have you seen the third clause in your exclusive agency agreement?"
"I know what's written in the contract."
"Then you should know how much the penalty for breach of contract is if these three pieces of evidence are presented and the third one is triggered."
Yang Shanshan looked up, her eyes tightening, but she stubbornly refused to show any weakness. "You want to calculate it as a breach of contract penalty?"
"I'm letting you know where the boundaries are in this matter." Zeng Hao flipped the contract to the page on exclusive agency and pushed it in front of her. "Article three states that the penalty for breach of contract is 15% of the total contract amount for the current period. Do the math yourself."
Yang Shanshan glanced down at the contract but didn't touch it.
The total amount of the contract for that period, after deducting 15%, is still a considerable sum for her.
"What are your plans for dealing with Ruilan afterwards?" Zeng Hao asked again.
"...It's broken."
"Let's cut it off today."
"today."
"Delete Ruilan's contact person's WeChat and block their calls. If they contact you again, tell Xu Wen immediately." Zeng Hao flipped back to Article 3 of the contract. "This time, we won't pursue liquidated damages. We'll issue a confirmation letter for handling, which you sign, clearly stating the handling method, and keep it on file."
Yang Shanshan's fingers twitched, gripping the fabric of her coat on her leg.
This is the second confirmation letter.
Last time it was about those two payments; this time it's about Ruilan.
With each contract she signed, the shackles of the contract tightened further, and she knew it perfectly well.
"Okay, I'll sign."
Her voice was very flat, without a single unnecessary word.
Zeng Hao took out the confirmation letter and pushed the pen over.
Yang Shanshan picked up the pen and signed her name in the signature column. Her handwriting was neat and tidy, each stroke as if she were pressing all the pent-up frustration into the paper.
After signing, she put the pen back in its place, didn't rush to get up, and looked up at Zeng Hao.
The other person had already picked up another document and started looking at it, completely ignoring her.
Yang Shanshan tightened the pen cap, got up, picked up her bag, walked to the door, opened it, paused for a second, didn't say anything, and walked straight out.
The door slammed shut much louder than when I came in.
...
the other side.
Dilireba was flipping through the script to the third act when the slanting sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on the right side of the page and illuminating several lines of dialogue clearly.
She held the pen, underlined a line of dialogue, and paused without turning the page.
Instead of thinking about the script, Zeng Hao's words kept replaying in my mind: "Explanations are only for those who don't believe you."
At first, she thought the person was just too lazy to explain, but after thinking about it, she realized that wasn't the case at all.
He's not lazy; he just doesn't care whether others believe him or not.
He didn't respond to the rumors during the peak of his career, but she saw what happened afterward—not that he tried to prove his innocence, but that fabricated story actually promoted "Ning An Ru Meng" in a roundabout way.
This person seems to disdain engaging in verbal battles with others.
She put the pen down on the script, propped her elbow on the table, and looked out the window with her chin in her hand.
The setting sun cast straight shadows from the window frame, one after another, onto the floor, highlighting the smooth and bright lines of her profile. Her eyes were slightly upturned, carrying a touch of nonchalant liveliness. It was her unique bright and elegant demeanor, unintentional yet dazzling enough.
interesting.
She silently repeated those three words in her mind.
Only after confirming that there was no more fitting description did he look down at the script again.
In Act III, Scene 1, her character has to make a choice.
She circled that line of dialogue with a question mark and continued scrolling down.
...
When Xu Wen pushed the door open and came in, Zeng Hao was inserting Yang Shanshan's confirmation letter into the contract appendix.
"Shanshan's gone." Xu Wen sat down. "She wasn't acting right today, did you notice?"
"Um."
"I didn't see her sign the document, but when she came out," Xu Wen thought for a moment, "her expression was too calm, abnormally calm, which made me uneasy."
Zeng Hao tidied up the contract and put it aside.
Xu Wen picked up his own water cup, took a sip, and made conversation: "How many confirmation letters is this again?"
"The second one."
"How much time does she have left on her contract?"
"At this rate, we'll probably need a third copy before it's due."
Xu Wen put down his water glass, paused for two seconds, then looked up and asked, "And then what? Will she not renew her contract when it expires, or...?"
"We'll talk about it when it expires."
Xu Wen responded and got up to walk out, but stopped abruptly at the door, turned back, and looked somewhat hesitant.
"There's something else, I just found out." She lowered her voice, "The brand Ruilan has recently been contacting not only people from our company, but also looking for other artists. There are a few from other companies, and..."
She turned her phone screen around.
The third name on the list of those contacted is Zhang Linghe.
Zeng Hao took the phone, stared at the name, the cold light from the screen shining on his face, but he showed no expression.
Zhang Linghe is a student at Nanjing Normal University and the male lead in "Ning An Ru Meng".
Galaxy Capital's move was not intended to rely solely on Yang Shanshan as a loophole!