Chapter 4: Zhiyin Effect

In his past life, the drama Those Years didn't begin filming until the end of 2010 and wouldn't be released in mainland China until 2012.

Before that, it had already been released in Hong Kong and Taiwan in 2011; the reason for the lack of synchronization was that the director had inserted ideological bias into the film and needed to cut and reshoot scenes before release.

The box office suffered due to its overly Taiwanese flavor and lax copyright control, allowing pirated copies to flow in from Hong Kong and Taiwan.

Even so, it still earned over seventy million in box office revenue, while the film's total investment was only ten million.

Add in the Hong Kong and Taiwan box office, plus various copyright revenues, and you could say it made a fortune.

"Action!"

With Wang Laoer's loud shout, filming resumed, and Fang Hong sat behind the monitor directing the shoot.

Only Wang Laoer could shout "action"—Fang Hong couldn't, because Wang Laoer wanted to indulge his directorial fantasy.

It was said this film was made by Wang Laoer for Li Yundi, and that the two admired each other deeply—though that was just rumor.

The current scene depicts Liu Tianxian discovering that Wang Laoer had deceived her, so she was heartbroken and ready to part ways with him.

Later, Wang Laoer confessed his feelings to Liu Tianxian and sang her a love poem.

There was a stylistic device here: as Wang Laoer sang, Liu Tianxian got wet—the visual effect was a column of rain forming above her head.

This rain column drenched only Liu Tianxian, no one else.

Then Liu Tianxian seemed to understand something, and the two reconciled, together at last—highly abstract.

Fang Hong didn't understand why Wang Laoer had portrayed it this way; he could only sigh that singers' realms were beyond ordinary comprehension.

It was said this was the Zhiyin Effect, just like the way Wang Laoer and Li Yundi gazed tenderly at each other.

Hmm. So cold!

Thinking of this, Fang Hong couldn't help shivering.

On the set, Wang Laoer sang on stage while Liu Tianxian stood among the audience below, with crowds behind her.

As the song began, rain fell above Liu Tianxian's head.

"Cut!"

Fang Hong suddenly shouted.

His shout startled the crew and extras—why stop now, right in the middle of the performance?

Fang Hong walked straight up to Liu Tianxian and stared at her.

Liu Tianxian, bewildered, asked: "What's the problem?"

Fang Hong said nothing, but placed his hand on his chin and circled around her, as if deep in thought.

At that moment, Wang Laoer approached and asked: "Is something wrong?"

"Director, I feel something's missing," Fang Hong said.

"What?" Wang Laoer didn't understand.

Fang Hong lowered his head, thought for a moment, then looked up again: "Oh, right—the Zhiyin Effect is missing. What is Zhiyin? In my understanding, it's someone who shares your interests and appreciates you—like a Blue-faced Confidant."

Hearing this, Wang Laoer fell into thought, recalling his own Zhiyin—the man who understood him.

As for Liu Tianxian, she was utterly confused; she had no clue what Zhiyin meant—she only knew how to cotton-pick.

At that moment, she was wiping her soaking wet hair with a towel.

But Zeng Yi-ke, listening nearby, took it in—she gazed thoughtfully at Liu Tianxian's profile, her eyes glowing with an indescribable light, as if Zhiyin were fermenting within her.

If Fang Hong knew his casual lie to Wang Laoer had planted a seed in Zeng Yi-ke's heart, he'd wonder what to think.

Seeing Wang Laoer was convinced, Fang Hong went on: "I think the rain should be blue—to symbolize the Blue-faced Confidant."

Wang Laoer thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers: "Yes, that makes sense."

Blue-faced Confidant—I deeply resonate!

Who would've thought a random intern understood him so well? A true Zhiyin!

"Art department—give you half an hour to make the rain blue, with a beautiful, ambiguous visual effect," Fang Hong instructed the art team.

"That's too short a time—it's gonna be tough," the art director grumbled, voice laced with a whiny tone.

The art crew resented this "fake" director—using a feather as a decree, one sentence and they were overloaded.

"Time is limited—hurry up."

When Wang Laoer spoke, the art crew stopped complaining and immediately set to work—adding lights to the rain equipment to see if it would work.

"Your suggestion is excellent—how did you come up with it?" Wang Laoer felt this man's ideas struck right at his heart.

"Art—I believe our film is art. I'm thinking from an artistic perspective," Fang Hong said, expression calm.

"Yes, art—those two words are perfect," Wang Laoer praised.

This time, Fang Hong stayed silent—he feared he'd blow his own cover.

After chatting a while, Wang Laoer went to inspect the set—it was his daily ritual, meant to maintain his authority as director, or simply put, to show off.

Once he left, Liu Tianxian looked at Fang Hong and teased: "You're pretty knowledgeable."

"Just a little, just a little!" Fang Hong demurred.

Liu Tianxian tilted her head and whispered: "Hey, did you tell Wang Laoer yet—will we still shoot the kiss scene?"

"It's a bit difficult—Wang Laoer isn't easy to talk to, but I'm still negotiating. Don't worry," Fang Hong said, unfazed.

"The film's almost done—if you don't sort this out now, we'll wrap," Liu Tianxian said.

Filming was nearing its end—if they didn't act now, they'd have to shoot it anyway—how could she not be anxious?

"Won't wrapping be perfect? Then you won't have to shoot it," Fang Hong said.

Liu Tianxian rolled her eyes at him—why bother bringing it up if you weren't going to help? You raised her hopes, then acted indifferent.

Was the loan too small?

She said: "Tell me honestly—can you even do this?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I can—I just need time to negotiate."

Fang Hong's words left Liu Tianxian speechless as she walked away, unwilling to speak to this man again.

Ask him, and it's always about communication.

Fang Hong didn't care; he picked up paper and pen and began drawing tables to make a film budget. Making Those Years was low-budget, but even the smallest budget meant millions in expenses.

A film is divided into three phases: pre-production, production, and post-production, each of which breaks down into several subcategories.

Everything, from equipment rental to props and costumes, to personnel salaries, must be detailed down to the smallest point.

There's no way around being detailed—Fang Hong had no professional talent around him.

Chen Zhixi wasn't yet very familiar with it; after all, she had only just started working in production.

"Hey, Xiao Fang."

Fang Hong looked up and saw Wang Laoer had returned and sat down beside him.

Wang Laoer glanced around and said, "Did you tell Liu Tianxian? What did she say?"

"Oh, I communicated with her. She said she rejects it from an artistic perspective, but accepts it from a cinematic perspective."

As Fang Hong spoke, Wang Laoer interrupted, "What does that mean?"

"I don't know what she means. She talks in riddles—I can't understand her," Fang Hong said.

Wang Laoer thought for a moment and said, "Is she saying my film isn't artistic enough?"

His insight was quite sharp.

"Possibly."

Fang Hong nodded and added, "But don't mind her. It's just a kiss—what's the big deal? At worst, the audience will scold you. I support you—kiss her!"

"Do you also think my film isn't artistic enough?" Wang Laoer said.

"I don't think that."

Fang Hong first distanced himself, then analyzed from Wang Laoer's perspective:

"But come to think of it, this kissing scene is indeed superfluous—it disrupts the film's overall artistic style. A true friend, a soulmate—maintain the most beautiful distance. Leave room for the audience's imagination. What do you think?"

(End of Chapter)