Traffic Star Development Program

Chapter 85 Sister, you're crazy!

Chen arrived at the business office seven minutes earlier than the agreed time.

Xu Wen saw him come in at the front desk, put down his coffee, and stood up: "President Chen, President Zeng is waiting for you in the conference room."

Chen, the business director, nodded, straightened his suit collar, and followed Xu Wen inside. He worked as the business director at iQiyi, in charge of content acquisition and exclusive platform partnerships. He had been in the industry for six years and had seen countless entertainment companies, most of which were the same – bottled water in the conference room, the boss sitting in the main seat, the assistant taking notes, and they would start by talking about industry trends, going around in circles before getting to the point.

The conference room at Sunshine Entertainment was smaller than he had imagined, with only a table for six people. Zeng Hao sat by the window with a printed document in front of him. There was no bottled water on the table, just two mugs filled with tea, one in front of him and the other on Chen Business's seat.

Zeng Hao didn't get up, but raised his eyes slightly: "President Chen, please sit down."

Chen, the business manager, sat down opposite him, put his briefcase at his feet, glanced at the mug, picked it up and took a sip. It was Longjing tea, the temperature was just right, neither too hot nor too cold.

"Have you looked at the three plans I mentioned last time?" Zeng Hao asked bluntly, without a single word of politeness.

"I've seen it," Chen, the business manager, opened his briefcase and took out a document. "I've also revised the adjustment plan here. Take a look."

Zeng Hao took the document and started reading from the first item, pausing after each one. Chen Shangwu sat opposite him, offering no explanation, and simply waited for him to finish.

This was the third time Chen Shangwu had met Zeng Hao at the same table.

The first time was during the procurement negotiations for "What Kind of Conduct." Back then, Sunshine Entertainment was a small company where even its name was a source of much debate. Yet, every word Zeng Hao uttered at the negotiating table was well-prepared, without a single wasted word or empty promises. When they reached the seventh point, Chen, the business manager, raised an additional requirement for the platform. Zeng Hao flipped through the attachment for thirty seconds, directly reading out a clause number, saying, "This clause was already written." Chen checked and indeed it was; it was even stricter than the requirements Zeng Hao had made.

After returning home that day, Chen, the business manager, added a note to Sunshine Entertainment in the partner's file, simply saying "Reliable".

The second meeting was a data review after the broadcast of "What Kind of Conduct" aired. It had a Douban rating of 8.6 and over 23 million views on the platform, which would place it in the top twelve of iQiyi's annual content rankings. As soon as the review meeting ended, Chen's business manager asked him, "How do you plan to negotiate the next project?" He replied, "Take the initiative to schedule it." The manager paused for a moment, saying that iQiyi never takes the initiative. He responded, "This time, we have to take the initiative."

So he came today, seven minutes earlier than agreed, with a revised plan. He changed two things he felt were inappropriate in the previous version and marked all the compromises.

After reading the document, Zeng Hao put it on the table and pointed to the third point with his index finger: "This statement still has problems."

Which one?

"The starting point for the exclusive follow-up development rights," Zeng Hao said, "You wrote 'thirty calendar days after the first broadcast ends,' I want to change it to 'thirty calendar days after the final episode of the first broadcast reaches 50 million views.'"

Chen, the business manager, glanced at the message: "Triggered by data?"

"Yes," Zeng Hao said, "If the data doesn't meet the standards when it airs, the subsequent development rights will be postponed, which is fair to both of us."

Chen Shangwu paused for a moment on this point. He hadn't anticipated this change at all, but after thinking about it for three seconds, he understood—prioritizing data over time was actually more stable for the platform. If the show didn't perform well, the platform wouldn't be tied to a timeline and forced to launch a potentially unprofitable follow-up project.

"That's negotiable," he said, "but with a base of 50 million, the platform needs to raise it to 60 million."

"Five thousand five hundred," Zeng Hao said. "That's the amount we'll reach when 'Ning An Ru Meng' premieres. There's no need for negotiation."

Chen, the business manager, looked at him and asked, "Are you that confident?"

"I did this project," Zeng Hao said calmly. "I know better than you do."

Upon hearing this, Chen Shangwu was taken aback. It wasn't arrogance, but rather that he stopped short of saying the right thing, just like the concessions marked in his adjustment plan—conceding what should be conceded, and not giving up a single word on what shouldn't be conceded.

"Five thousand five," Chen, the business manager, said. "I'll go back and finalize it with my superiors."

"Okay." Zeng Hao flipped to the fifth item in the document, glanced at it, and said, "This one needs some discussion."

The two talked for an hour and forty minutes in the meeting room. Xu Wen came in twice to refill their tea. The first time, they chattered on and on, but the second time the room was quiet. Zeng Hao was writing and drawing on his documents, and Chen, the business manager, was staring at the proposal he had brought. Neither of them looked up.

After discussing point seven, Chen, the business manager, tossed his pen aside and leaned back in his chair. "Mr. Zeng, how many projects are you working on at the same time right now?"

"Not many," Zeng Hao replied vaguely, without giving a specific number.

Chen, the business manager, smiled, picked up his briefcase, and stuffed the documents inside: "I asked this because iQiyi is working on its content plan for next year. If Sunshine Entertainment has any new project ideas, just let us know in advance. You don't need to wait until the project is approved before contacting me."

Zeng Hao picked up his mug and took a sip: "When are you going to go in this direction?"

"Before the end of next month," Chen said. "The planning meeting will be held in mid-December."

"Okay." Zeng Hao nodded. "I'll have Xu Wen contact you then."

Chen, the business executive, stood up and picked up his bag: "I'll go back and get the terms approved internally this time. I'll get back to you in three to five business days."

"Okay." Zeng Hao also stood up, didn't see him off, just nodded in the same spot, "Thank you for making the trip."

Chen Shangwu walked to the conference room door, placed his hand on the door frame, and glanced back: "President Zeng, I can guarantee that the 'Ning An Ru Meng' project will absolutely not disappoint you."

These words came quite suddenly. He felt they were superfluous after he said them, but he said them anyway, and then pushed open the door and left.

Zeng Hao paused for a second in the conference room, went over the words in his mind, then stacked the two mugs on the table together, picked them up, and left to find the next document.

Xu Wen saw Chen off and returned to the office, asking, "Boss, how did the meeting go?"

"It's alright." Zeng Hao sat in his office chair and spread out the handwritten notes in the conference room. "He'll get back to you in three to five business days. Keep a close eye on it. If there's no response by the fifth day, contact his assistant."

"Alright." Xu Wen took out his notebook and wrote it down. "Also, all the materials for 'Ning An Ru Meng' were submitted for review today. Director Peng just confirmed them."

Zeng Hao paused, pen in hand. "Have they all left?"

"Of course, I just submitted it at 2 p.m. this afternoon," Xu Wen said. "The approval process takes 30 working days, so the result should be available by the end of January."

Thirty working days. Zeng Hao mentally calculated that if he pushed it to the end of January, he could still secure the second-quarter broadcast window. He wrote a note next to it: "Submission deadline: Today. Results expected by the end of January ± three working days."

"Is there anything fishy going on with Yang Shanshan?"

"Nothing new," Xu Wen said. "Sister Liu is keeping an eye on things. The receipt for the payment request is still on file, and nothing else has come up for the time being."

"Okay." Zeng Hao folded up the note. "You can go about your business."

Xu Wen paused at the door, as if he had something to say, but in the end he remained silent and gently closed the door.

After closing the door, Zeng Hao sat alone in the office for a while.

The submission for review is finally settled; he's been waiting for this day for more than just a day or two. From the start of filming "Ning An Ru Meng" to now, the production cycle has been over four months. Peng Bing rushed to finish post-production in nineteen days, handling color grading and music simultaneously. There are over a hundred stages involved, and any one of them could have gone wrong. He had prepared backup plans for each stage in advance, and now it all boils down to Xu Wen's words—"It was submitted at 2 PM this afternoon."

He sat in the chair for three minutes, then picked up the next document from the table.

There are still 59 days left to receive payment for "What a Disgrace," with 7057 million yuan in the books. Money is still being spent, and there's still a lump sum payment outstanding for the later stages of "Ning An Ru Meng." He drew a line on the books, dragging it to the right until 59 days later, where the number became 150 million yuan, and the line stopped there. There's still hope for payment from the broadcast of "Ning An Ru Meng," but that's a matter for later; it doesn't matter now.

He turned to the next page and continued reading.

...

In a rented room on the sixth floor of an old residential building in the south of the city, Chen Lei lay on his bed, his phone lighting up and turning off repeatedly.

It's promotional material released by the official Weibo account of "Ning An Ru Meng".

He clicked on it, and saw a horizontal poster. Zhang Linghe stood on the right, dressed in white, with light shining from his left shoulder, the right half of his face hidden in shadow, but his eyes were very bright. On the left was the title of the drama, in a handwritten, ancient-style font, just four characters: Ning An Ru Meng.

"This guy is incredibly handsome..."

Chen Lei zoomed in on the image, scanning it from left to right. He stared at Zhang Linghe's face for four seconds before looking away.

He recognized the face, not because he'd seen it somewhere before, but because it was a matter of common sense among colleagues—you could tell at a glance whether someone had substance in their eyes; you didn't need to know them for long, a single still image was enough. Zhang Linghe had substance in his eyes, not just for show, but genuine substance that couldn't be hidden.

The company's resources are fixed.

This is indeed a formidable competitor!

...

The final exam for the Shanghai Theatre Academy's acting class is scheduled for Friday afternoon.

As soon as the doors of the small theater opened, the thirty-two people rushed in as if scrambling for territory, filling all the seats at the front and quickly filling the folding chairs on the side of the stage as well. A faint smell of chalk dust lingered in the air, mixed with the cheap perfume worn by a few girls, and some people were so nervous that their palms were sweating and their scripts were crumpled.

Thirty-two people, each with fifteen minutes, draw lots to determine the order.

Chu Ran drew number 19, so she had to wait for four and a half hours.

She sat down on a chair at the side of the stage, her script on her lap, untouched, just lying there.

Most of the students around her were reciting their lines silently, a few were closing their eyes to prepare, and one was pacing back and forth, her shoes scraping against the floor with a soft rustling sound. Tian Xi sat next to her, clutching a hand warmer, saying nothing, occasionally glancing at her sideways.

"You really chose a one-woman show?" Tian Xi whispered in her ear, keeping her voice low so that others wouldn't hear.

"Hmm." Chu Ran also lowered her voice, "Didn't you already know?"

"I knew," Tian Xiwei said. "I thought you would change your mind in the end."

"I've already made my choice, this is the one I want," Chu Ran said.

Tian Xiwei squeezed the hand warmer: "What notebook did you choose?"

Chu Ran raised her head: "See for yourself."

Tian Xi looked up and saw that the teacher was drawing back the curtain.

The words "Final Exam" were written in large white chalk on the blackboard. Chu Ran's name was written at the end, followed by a line of smaller print: "Play Title: The Caged Ape (Adapted from a Monologue)".

Tian Xiwei suddenly widened her eyes.

He quickly leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Playing three roles by yourself? Sister, are you crazy?!"