Dinner and an Idea

For the crew's convenience, the dinner was held near the film and television studios. His assistant, Li Na, had booked three tables in advance.

The group arrived at a private dining room in the hotel, and Wei Jin made himself at home, inviting everyone to sit down.

The crew members knew the drill and took seats at the other two tables, leaving the main table for the big shots.

As the host, Miss Cai naturally sat beside Wei Jin. Director Li Guoli, assistant director Wu Jinyuan, and several lead actors joined them, as did Liu Yifei and her mother.

Smiling, Wei Jin chatted with several of the principal crew members about amusing incidents during filming. He also asked whether the two compatriots from Taiwan were accustomed to life on the mainland and discussed the domestic television market with the two directors.

"Manager Wei, do you think our show can be a hit?"

The question came from the director, Li Guoli. Chinese Paladin was the first domestic television drama adapted from a game, so it was only natural for him to feel uncertain.

In fact, the original production team at Tangren had come almost entirely from Hong Kong.

In the late nineties, Miss Cai and several Hong Kong directors and producers had founded Tangren together. They had since put down roots on the mainland and delved deep into television production, becoming a leading force in the domestic industry for a time.

That was especially true of costume dramas. At its peak, Tangren could be called a "costume drama overlord."

Unfortunately, costume dramas were both the making and the undoing of Tangren. That narrow road limited its development, and it missed quite a few opportunities to take flight.

On top of that, the founders had clung to the Hong Kong way of doing things, refused to accept outside capital, and liked to keep the whole feast to themselves. The major domestic circles had little time for Tangren, and its move into film proved exceptionally rocky. In the end, it gradually declined.

"Director Li, shouldn't you be asking Manager Cai that?"

Wei Jin was a little amused by the question.

"Tangren is the controlling party and lead investor, so of course we have to take a positive view. But that isn't objective. As an investor, Manager Wei, you'd be more rational, and I'd like to hear what you think."

At that, Miss Cai and the other principal crew members also looked at Wei Jin with some anticipation. Clearly, the team as a whole lacked confidence.

"Hmm... then I'll briefly share my thoughts."

"Our show is positioned as a historical xianxia drama. First, let's talk about costume dramas. Is there a market for them in China?

"There certainly is. So what kind of costume drama is the biggest hit?

"I'm sure everyone has plenty of answers, but what if I asked what kind of costume drama is certain to be a hit?

"I'd say adaptations of Jin Yong's work.

"Have you ever wondered why costume dramas adapted from Jin Yong's work are almost always huge hits, as long as the production team puts enough care into them?

"The answer is that Jin Yong's original novels already have an enormous readership.

"Right now, most of the remote controls in China are in the hands of people born between the sixties and the eighties, and the vast majority of them have read Jin Yong's novels. So when those novels are adapted for the screen and they can see the great heroes and the martial world from the books brought to life, I think most of them will watch, as long as they have the time."

Wei Jin took a sip of tea, paused, and continued.

"Following that logic, Chinese Paladin is adapted from a game that's been around for more than eight years. Most of the people who played it back then have grown up by now. Just think how huge that potential audience is. Are you still worried about the ratings?"

Wei Jin's analysis was well reasoned, well supported, and convincing. Several of the lead actors even broke into smiles.

Liu Yifei's mother also looked surprised. She apparently hadn't expected the young man to have such insight into the television market, and her gaze turned thoughtful as she looked at Wei Jin.

"Then does that mean an adaptation of any hugely popular novel or game is bound to be a hit?"

Miss Cai continued questioning him, as though searching for the secret to ratings.

"You can't put it that way. It only means you have the foundation for a major hit. In fact, a good script, reliable actors, a professional director, and a polished production are all indispensable."

What Wei Jin had outlined was the big-IP theory, a basic theory that emerged after internet capital entered the film and television industry in his previous life. But in 2004, it was nothing short of a miracle cure.

Seeing that Miss Cai was about to press him further, Wei Jin hurriedly invited everyone to eat. For a time, the atmosphere was quite convivial.

Miss Cai figured there would be plenty of time later and decided to build a good relationship first. She signaled to several of the principal crew members to come over and offer toasts.

Wei Jin turned no one down. With his body strengthened to its current level, he didn't even know how much he could drink.

"Director Wei, I'm sorry about this afternoon. Yifei has been subjected to some rumors and gossip lately. Please forgive me."

Liu Yifei's mother came over with her daughter to offer a toast, and also explained her strong reaction that afternoon.

"Ms. Liu, you're worrying too much. Yifei and I are schoolmates. Although we hadn't met before, I've seen her in The Story of a Noble Family and Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils, so I suppose I'm half a fan. I was a little forward when I met her in person for the first time."

Wei Jin was quite polite about it and didn't hold it against a mother who was anxious to protect her daughter.

Although Liu Yifei's mother had made all sorts of bizarre moves in his previous life, playing a heavenly opening hand to pieces, there was no denying that she loved her daughter as a mother.

"Come on, Xixi, offer Director Wei a toast."

Liu Yifei's mother said, drawing her daughter over. Liu Yifei was not yet seventeen, still a little loli. Holding a cup of tea, she said with her small face slightly flushed:

"Director Wei, I can't drink, so I'll toast you with tea instead. Please drink as much as you like."

It was the first time Wei Jin had heard Liu Yifei's voice. It was soft and sweet, like a little kitten.

"Hmm... Yifei, may I call you that? And don't call me Director Wei. We're schoolmates, so just call me Wei Jin."

Wei Jin had no particular thoughts about the young girl. He was simply surprised, like an ordinary passerby meeting a celebrity.

"Mm, okay, Wei Jin." Her voice was as thin as a thread, almost inaudible.

"Director Wei, in your opinion, could our Yifei develop a career in film?"

Liu Yifei's mother wanted to hear a professional's opinion.

"Of course she could, but I'd suggest she spend more time honing her acting in television dramas for now. Yifei is still a little green, and it would be hard to find film roles suited to her."

Wei Jin wasn't lying. In fact, Liu Yifei was too young now and had hardly any acting skills. She simply couldn't handle a role unless she found a script tailored to her, one that let her play herself.

"Mm, then if you come across a suitable role for Yifei in the future, please give her a chance, Director Wei."

Liu Yifei's mother didn't have high expectations; she was merely making a friendly connection.

"Certainly. If there's an opportunity, I certainly will."

Two hours later, Wei Jin politely declined Tangren's arrangements and returned to the hotel with his assistant.

Alone in his room, Wei Jin's thoughts began to stir. Ever since winning the award in Berlin, he had been considering what to shoot for his first commercial film.

The film environment in 2004 was simply not very favorable, and domestic infrastructure still lagged somewhat behind. By the end of 2003, China had a total of 2,296 screens, more than 700 above the 2002 figure, and that increase had come only because private capital had begun entering cinema chains in 2003.

By 2012, China had 8,000 screens, which made possible the legend of Lost in Thailand earning over 1.2 billion yuan. The current figure was less than thirty percent of that.

In other words, at this stage, whatever the film, the total number of screens was fixed, and the box-office ceiling remained low.

But Liu Yifei had given Wei Jin an idea over dinner. A low-budget youth romance film would be a good choice.