"Yang Zai, Master Xing treats you very differently. How did you manage that?"
The production coordinator tried to ask Zhang Yang for his secret.
He worked for Stephen Chow's company and was often responsible for various aspects of production. He also had a bit of ambition to climb the ladder, and ingratiating himself with the boss was undoubtedly a shortcut.
"I guess it's talent." Zhang Yang wore an inscrutable smile.
As everyone knew, Stephen Chow was a director who worked from an outline. When filming began, he had only a general framework; the details and jokes were all worked out on the fly, purely through inspiration.
When he called Stephen Chow, he started with a simple greeting, then wove in his own thoughts on the characters and asked for advice. Once they found common ground, they moved on to discussing the script, and eventually their conversation became a full-fledged discussion.
He had seen the finished film, and could simply bring up many jokes and plot twists Stephen Chow hadn't thought of yet. He could even brazenly declare, "Nobody understands Journey to the West: Conquering the Demons better than me—not even Master Xing."
Stephen Chow thought he had a gift for absurdist comedy and regarded him as a kindred spirit, holding him in higher esteem. Whenever he hit a creative roadblock during filming, he liked to consult and discuss things with Zhang Yang. In effect, Zhang Yang had gained another part-time job.
His pay certainly wouldn't be increased, but giving him a screenwriting credit was no problem. He fully deserved it.
And for Zhang Yang, earning that screenwriting credit was far more valuable than getting paid a million.
"If you don't want to tell me, forget it."
The coordinator figured Zhang Yang was brushing him off, but didn't press further.
After