Chapter 102: Han Shanping

Cai Wen stepped out of the capital airport dragging two suitcases, neon signs projecting "Welcome to Jingcheng" onto the square before the terminal. Xiang Fei waved at him, leaning against a black business car, half of a titanium-steel watch—gifted by Zhou Huimin—visible at his suit cuff; he had deliberately worn it as a lucky charm.

"Brother Cai, you've worked hard!" Xiang Fei took the suitcases and shoved them into the trunk, "First, I'll take you to your place—it's close to the company."

Cai Wen gazed at the glittering buildings lining Chang'an Street and couldn't help remarking, "Jingcheng's night is more like a city that never sleeps than Xiangjiang's."

"You'll have plenty of time to see it later," Xiang Fei started the car. "Your place is a duplex apartment, fully furnished. Starting tomorrow, the foundation of Feimin Entertainment rests on you."

The car stopped at a high-end downtown residential complex, the elevator taking them straight to the 23rd floor. Pushing open the door, warm golden light revealed brand-new furniture and household essentials. Cai Wen set down his luggage and sat on the leather sofa in the living room: "Xiang Shao, you've thought of everything."

Xiang Fei took two bottles of red wine from the bar cabinet; the glass clinked sharply as they toasted. "Don't call me Xiang Shao—here in Jingcheng, just call me Afei. Your tasks fall into three parts: First, build a core team—find capable people for every role, from planning and production to promotion and distribution. Second, establish ties with major universities and talent agencies—we need to cultivate our own newcomers. Third…" He paused, "Use every resource you can from Yongsheng in Xiangjiang, but remember—this is Beijing. The rules and ways of doing things must be learned anew."

Cai Wen downed his beer in one gulp, wiped his mouth, and grinned: "Don't worry—I worked at Yongsheng for eight years. I've got some adaptability."

"Tomorrow I'm visiting Han Shanping at Beiying Studio. First, get familiar with the company's renovation progress—contact me anytime if there are issues."

The next morning, Xiang Fei donned a dark blue Zhongshan suit and pinned a silver maple leaf brooch on his lapel—the one Zhou Huimin bought during her travels. Before the gates of Beiying Studio, vermilion walls and golden plaques gleamed side by side; staff members bustled in and out.

"Hello, I have an appointment with Factory Director Han," Xiang Fei said while registering at the guardhouse, noticing the register filled with dense entries of visitors.

Walking past the shaded path, ginkgo leaves rustled in the wind before the administrative building. As he knocked on Han Shanping's carved wooden door, he heard the scratch of a pen across paper inside.

"Come in."

He opened the door—the scent of sandalwood tea filled the air. Han Shanping sat behind a large desk, his gaze steady as a deep pool behind gold-rimmed glasses. He set down his pen and pointed to a redwood chair opposite: "The guide has arrived!"

"Factory Director Han, hello." Xiang Fei presented his gold-embossed business card with both hands. "Feimin Entertainment has just established itself in Jingcheng. I've long admired your contributions to Chinese cinema and have come to seek your guidance." He pulled a proposal from his briefcase. "This is our company's three-year plan—we aim to blend mainstream films with commercial cinema. For example, stories about ordinary people's struggles against the backdrop of reform and opening-up."

Han Shanping flipped through the proposal, his gaze behind the lenses growing increasingly focused. Xiang Fei continued: "I know Beiying Studio has deep historical roots and many outstanding scripts and talents. What Feimin Entertainment wants to do is build a bridge—linking Xiangjiang's mature commercial operations with the mainland's cultural depth."

The office fell into brief silence, broken only by the ticking of an old wall clock. After a long while, Han Shanping closed the proposal: "The guide has ambition. But film isn't simply 1+1—cultural differences, market demands, policy direction..."

"That's precisely why we need a guide like you, Factory Director Han."

Han Shanping smiled and asked, "I hear you're closely connected with the Xiang brothers of Yongsheng?"

Xiang Fei sat up straight, his tone sincere: "Yongsheng is my family's enterprise, but Feimin Entertainment operates independently. I came to Jingcheng to prove my own ability—and to make new attempts for Chinese cinema."

Outside, the ginkgo leaves rustled again. Han Shanping rose and walked to the window, watching staff moving in and out across the studio grounds. "It's good for a young man to have drive. Here's what I'll do—I'll find time to watch all your films."

Xiang Fei's heart leapt; he immediately stood and bowed thanks: "Thank you, Factory Director Han, for your mentorship!"

As he saw Xiang Fei out, Han Shanping paused on the steps of the administrative building. "Jingcheng isn't Xiangjiang—the film industry here runs deeper. But..." He turned, offering a knowing smile, "I've always been willing to lend a hand to young people with ideas."

Xiang Fei walked along Beiying Studio's shaded path, autumn sunlight filtering through the leaves onto his shoulders. The meeting had gone better than expected—Han Shanping's attitude was cautious, yet clearly open to new things. His phone vibrated in his pocket; Cai Wen had sent a message: "Company renovation is ahead of schedule—the first interview list is ready."

After replying, Xiang Fei gazed at the film crew shooting in the distance—the roar of the camera and the shouts of crew members weaving into a unique urban symphony. He had finally taken his first step into Jingcheng's cinematic world.