Chu Ge glanced at Xie Wenyuan. He remembered Xie Wenyuan saying similar things back then, including the same view that there was nothing wrong with everyone making money. Looking at it now, he could not tell whether those had been Xie Wenyuan's own ideas or ideas he had picked up from his boss.
The biggest difference between the two was that last part.
"If I don't try, who will?"
An air of "who else but me?" swept over him. Chu Ge felt as though he could sense the battles and upheavals this man had lived through.
Chu Ge, who had been chatting without any pressure, actually felt a little weighed down by those words. It was a sense of mission. "President Tang, hearing that, I don't know whether my book can bear that responsibility. Leaving its commercial performance aside, just in terms of giving it cultural substance, I don't think I've reached that level..."
Tang Jinyan waved a hand. "Cultural depth isn't what I'm after. Honestly, if it really had that much depth, I wouldn't want it. That would mean the market probably wouldn't accept it."
Chu Ge: "..."
"What I mainly mean is diversity and representation. We can't keep serving up nothing but Qing princesses and princes every day until South Koreans think that was all there was to ancient China, can we? And Xianxia has always been one of our country's representative cultural genres. Quite a few filmmakers tried to promote Shushan in the early days and lost their shirts doing it. Most of them had dreams like this."
"I've heard about that," Chu Ge said. "They suffered terrible losses back then."
"Right." Tang Jinyan smiled. "On the other hand, culture works through gradual, subtle influence. Take your book's title and protagonist's name. South Koreans don't recognize the