Chapter 29

Ruan Ming had planned it well, but little did he know that neither he nor Director Wang would have an easy life from then on.

The two were like rats scurrying across the street, their reputations already utterly rotten. Big stars would no longer work with them, nor would investors put money into them.

Even if they managed to secure sponsorships, without good scripts as a foundation, no one would watch the dramas they made.

The two would only grow more and more destitute, eventually forced out of the industry, never again enjoying their former glory and pride.

Jinbai Entertainment.

Although the screenwriting department had only just been established, after this incident, a large number of people came to apply for jobs at the company.

As the main interviewer, Yuan Guangjin carefully selected candidates and kept all the truly talented screenwriters. Among them were the three screenwriters who had originally written the first half of the script for A Wind Blows Across the Grassland. They, too, joined Jinbai Entertainment.

The three seized the opportunity. They instinctively felt that Jinbai Entertainment would be an excellent platform for development, and since they had received invitations, they naturally would not let the chance slip away.

Besides, it was not as though they had never seen Jinbai Entertainment trending online before. The fact that there was no overtime alone made it worth rushing over for.

As the people in the screenwriting department were getting acquainted with one another, Yuan Guangjin pushed open the door and said, "Get ready. President Cai is coming here for a meeting."

"Okay, Assistant Yuan."

"Okay, right away."

Upon hearing this, everyone hurriedly got moving.

Every department had its own dedicated meeting room.

Not long after they sat down, Cai Jinbai pushed open the door and entered.

Li Qianqian and the others hurriedly stood up again and greeted him nervously.

Cai Jinbai could not help but smile. "Sit down, all of you. Don't be nervous."

Was he some kind of terrifying beast? Why were they all so stiff and awkward?

Li Qianqian and the others: Not at all. President Cai was much kinder than Vice President Xuan. They were simply too excited and all wanted to perform well in front of President Cai. After all, everything they had gained now was thanks to his help. Why was President Cai such a good person?

These people were now looking at him through rose-colored glasses and felt that Cai Jinbai had no flaws at all.

The meeting began, and Cai Jinbai first brought up the script that Ruan Ming and Director Wang had stolen from Li Qianqian.

—Family Matters, a realistic story about several families in a southern town, with laughter, tears, and heartfelt nostalgia.

Cai Jinbai had already read through the script. Li Qianqian truly had exceptional talent in this area. Her plot descriptions were delicate, her dialogue vivid, and though the domestic matters never strayed from reality, the charm of the characters always shone through in those ordinary little moments, drawing readers in.

Especially her descriptions of certain customs in the southern town—they were detailed and specific. It was clear that Li Qianqian had put a great deal of effort into them.

No wonder Ruan Ming had set his sights on the script. If filmed well, it had the potential to become a hit drama.

Cai Jinbai could tell that this drama truly had that potential.

Therefore, the first project he intended to prepare was to launch this script and form a production crew specifically to film it.

The previous trending topics had already made many netizens curious about the script. With proper promotion, there would be no shortage of actors willing to join.

Cai Jinbai said, "The script will undergo further refinement. I've already found a director, and there will also be auditions for actors. I don't need popular idols. I only want people who can act. Even unknown young actors are fine, but they must fit their roles."

"You wrote this script, so you'll choose the candidates during the auditions. Do you have the confidence and ability to take on that responsibility?"

Cai Jinbai looked at Li Qianqian.

Li Qianqian nodded solemnly. "I do, President Cai!"

Her social anxiety could be overcome. To make this drama well, she had to bravely take that step forward.

Cai Jinbai said, "That's good. I may attend the auditions as well."

Hearing that, Li Qianqian became even more determined to do a good job.

Next, Cai Jinbai outlined the busy work awaiting the screenwriting department in the future—he needed original scripts. They would not only enter the film and television industry, but also animation, and all of that required compelling stories as a foundation.

But while they had stories, they also needed actors of their own.

Although the company had recruited some new actors, it was still not enough.

"So, do you have any ideas, Jinbai?" Xuan Yu asked in the office.

He lounged casually against the sofa. Fortunately, there was enough space between the sofa and coffee table; otherwise, there would have been nowhere to put his long legs.

Xuan Yu had broad shoulders and a narrow waist, with just the right amount of muscle across his chest. He wore suits without properly buttoning them and never wore a tie, usually leaving his collar open. His attire was casual and languid, yet it only made him more charming.

At that moment, one of his arms rested along the back of the sofa. His clothes were tugged slightly, opening his collar even wider. It was the sort of pose that could make someone blush and race just from a single glance.

Yet the other person in the office—Cai Jinbai—turned a blind eye to it, flipping through his tablet as he answered, "Yes. Come take a look at this program."

Xuan Yu moved closer at his words, glanced at it, and said, "The Actors?"

He could not help sniffing, then asked, "Jinbai, why do you smell like chocolate?"

Cai Jinbai looked up and could not help curling his lips into a smile. "Do you have a dog's nose? You could smell that?"

He took two pieces of chocolate from his pocket, set them on the tablet, and said, "Li Qianqian gave them to me. I almost forgot. Want one, Xuan?"

Xuan Yu pursed his lips in displeasure. "Can a dog's nose be as sharp as mine? And why did she give you chocolate? What was she up to?"

Cai Jinbai said, "She was only thanking me for helping her. She wanted to give me a whole box of chocolates, but I only took two. One for you and one for me, Xuan."

The moment Xuan Yu heard that, the corners of his lips rose. One each. Jinbai really had thought of him.

He cleared his throat and tried hard to flatten his smile, saying as if reluctantly, "Fine. Even though I don't like sweets, I can eat one with you."

Since Jinbai wanted him to eat one, of course he would not refuse.

Not only did he not refuse, Xuan Yu even took the initiative to unwrap the foil from the chocolate, feeding one to Cai Jinbai first before eating the second himself.

The taste of chocolate relaxed Cai Jinbai's expression. He continued the earlier topic. "The Actors is a program that specifically invites actors to perform classic scenes from dramas onstage. The judges are all Best Actor, Best Actress, TV King, or TV Queen winners. The lineup is strong."

"Or rather, that was the lineup for the first season. When it first aired, the show built up hype and indeed drew a great deal of attention and discussion. It was constantly trending early on."

Unfortunately, the fairly good program was later ruined. Investors saw an opportunity in it, and actors saw benefits as well.

So while new actors and lesser-known actors joined the program, some established actors also came in. Relying on their seniority and the few decent roles they had once played, they began putting on airs and bullying newcomers. On the surface, they were "guiding" them, but in reality, they were suppressing the younger actors and throwing their weight around as seniors.

The direction of the program also became increasingly wrong. Investors' children were shoved in, while the mentors gave timid critiques. Even when performances were terrible, they still had to say they were good, that the contestants had worked hard, improved greatly, and deserved another chance.

Thus, actors the audience disliked advanced to the next round, while actors the audience liked were cruelly eliminated.

The director had little say. He had fought for it, but it was completely useless.

Gradually, people complained that the program had become entirely a game for investors, made specifically to promote their own children.

What, then, was the point of creating such a program?

New actors and struggling lesser-known actors still did not receive opportunities.

Meanwhile, some older actors had benefited from the era when the internet was underdeveloped. Their acting skills were not especially good, yet they still came here to compete with younger actors for opportunities. Some even relied on knowing the mentors and having connections to directly secure internal spots in the competition.

Some netizens spoke up for the younger actors.

But fans of the other actors mocked them, saying that if they had spent so long struggling in the entertainment industry and were still unknown, it only proved they were unfit to make a living as actors. They failed and then blamed their seniors. If you weren't obscure to the core, who was? Stop being an actor already. Pack up and go home to farm.

But no matter how fiercely people argued online, it was inevitable that the program would go from wildly popular to gradually declining.

By now, the program had completed two seasons and was about to begin its third.

However, the ratings for the second season had been dismal. When investors saw that audiences were not buying into the people they promoted, and that the older actors were also highly controversial, their brief popularity quickly faded without further results. The program's usefulness turned out to be limited, so they began pulling their investments and no longer valued it. The heavyweight judges also started leaving.

This left Director Zheng of The Actors frantic. A number of advertisers had already left at the start of the second season. Now that the investors were withdrawing, the program would be even closer to shutting down. Wouldn't all his hard work be wasted? With the judges gone, who would provide commentary?

Although the second season had already been a disaster, Director Zheng still held out hope. For the third season, he had made new changes, switching to livestreaming and audience voting. This way, even if investors manipulated things behind the scenes or the mentors were unwilling to give harsh critiques, there would still be the audience. The audience would always vote for the actors they liked.

But at that moment, they had still failed to secure investment for the third season of The Actors.

Whether the program could even air smoothly was unknown. Director Zheng was worried sick.

Just then, a call came in.

Director Zheng picked it up and saw an unfamiliar number, but after answering it, he abruptly rose from his chair.

Lou Xiaoxiao particularly loved watching variety shows. When The Actors first appeared, she had been extremely excited, thinking that there was finally going to be another good variety show. She had even looked up information on everyone from the director to the judges to the actors, and then she received an even bigger surprise.