Chapter 461: Fund to Support Originality

The banquet hall was decorated with a sense of luxury, a huge LED screen forming the stage backdrop, displaying an artistic font: Video Evolution Theory.

Below it was a line of small text: China Web Drama Industry Summit.

In the upper left corner were the logos of the sponsoring companies Yutu and Chang'e Technology.

The event looked extremely formal and luxurious on the outside, rivaling some award ceremonies, but everyone present was unfamiliar.

No big-name directors, screenwriters, or CEOs of major companies were seen—after all, this was web drama, aimed at small companies and small workshops.

After everyone had sat down and was ready, Fang Hong, Chen Zhixi, and their group appeared in the hall, and all eyes turned to them.

Their expressions were unclear—some held high regard, some admiration, and more besides—and a low hum of murmurs spread through the venue.

A hundred films a year for them to experiment with—truly terrifying.

Successful novels always have a certain audience!

"Maybe everyone's getting impatient—let's invite General Manager Fang to take the stage for the final speech," said Zhang Nan.

Fang Hong said again: "To ensure content innovation, Chang'e Technology has decided to allocate 300 million yuan annually as a fund pool to help small and medium creators produce more high-quality content."

"Chen Zong, am I right?" Fang Hong smiled.

Then came Yan Fei, Zheng Jianfeng, Bao Jinjin, and others.

When Bao Jinjin took the stage to speak, she seemed shy, saying very little—mostly the others spoke; only when asked for her opinion did she occasionally offer a few words.

It was just because the Principal hadn't spoken yet.

"Alright, first let's invite Professor Yang Yuanying, Director of the Film Studies Department at Beijing Film Academy, to come up and say a few words," Zhang Nan invited, then stood aside without leaving the stage.

She wore frameless glasses and moved gracefully, took the microphone handed to her by a staff member, stood firm, and faced the audience: "Before coming here, I asked Xiao Fang what I should speak about—he said, 'Just give them a message.'"

About half an hour later, after their discussion ended, the next to take the stage were Wen Muye, Zhang Disha, Zhang Chen, and Yao Jun.

"I strongly agree with Professor Yang's point—under conditions of limited investment, web dramas should focus on storytelling."

The audience burst into enthusiastic applause—the Principal truly understood them.

And a cost of ten million yuan has reached the standard of film production; the hit Tiny Times had only a twenty-million-yuan budget—web dramas can be made for just a few million, and with careful spending, Chang'e Technology can support over a hundred web dramas a year.

The second one wasn't plagiarism either, but it simply took a successful story from someone else and turned it into a film.

"Of course, I'm not encouraging trend-chasing or copying story templates—that's wrong. We still support original innovation, because only original, good stories can ensure content doesn't become homogenized; homogenization is unacceptable, and the hype from trend-chasing will eventually be worn out."

Today we didn't invite a professional host, and I don't know how to say polite empty phrases—don't doubt whether our sincerity is enough; the Principal is sitting right up front—if it's not enough, go ahead and scold him."

The Principal just handed out 300 million—after the meeting, go ask Yutu for the money—so extravagant.

"Thank you all for your cooperation. I'm Zhang Nan, Operations Officer of Chang'e Technology. I've gathered you here to better promote video content development and support small and medium content creators in producing better content."

If all of Yutu's elites came over, they could easily fill a conference like this.

Yang Yuanying, sitting beside Fang Hong, stood up and walked toward the stage.

Chen Zhixi adjusted her appearance, then rose and took the stage, took the microphone from a staff member, and began her solo speech.

"Clap-clap-clap!"

When you're a teacher, you're different—you don't spout lofty empty words; you know they won't have big production budgets for a single drama, and you push them to tell better stories.

All of it was built on piracy—iQiyi, Youku, Tencent—who wasn't stealing from each other in the beginning? No one followed rules at first.

Now that she's succeeded, she's loudly talking about a hundred flowers blooming and how imitation leads nowhere, completely ignoring reality.

Fang Hong and his group didn't converse with anyone; they sat in the front row, and the venue lights dimmed, focusing only on the stage.

The audience below listened attentively too, because these few were industry elites—all had written, produced, and directed multiple successful works.

Good scripts and creative ideas are rare; failure rates are high, and most still follow trends.

Fang Hong took the microphone, faced the audience, and said: "I don't agree with General Manager Chen's view just now. Early creative teams have little money and no team—if they can't follow trends or copy story templates, how can small workshop-style creators have confidence their content will make money?"

"Of course, there are limits—we must evaluate your script; we can't invest just because you pick any random story. This is a fund to support originality."

The four took the stage, sat in a row, and began their discussion—one was a screenwriter, one a marketer, one a Producer, one a director—all different roles.

And there's the issue of qualifications—I've given out so much money to support your film and TV projects, you at least need to show me your team, not a huge one, but you must have a few key people: who directs, who writes."

"No, just 300 million." The companion was stunned.

Without that guarantee, you can only borrow from successful content and follow trends, ensuring your own success and earning your first pot of gold before you dare speak of expressing what you truly want—that's the safest way."

300 million! If each web drama is invested at ten million yuan, we can support thirty per year.

Almost every person on stage with a name, achievement, and reputation was here, and most of them were from Yutu—this was only a portion of Yutu's elites. The audience sat upright, listening to these big names speak; they were, in simple terms, researchers under the State Administration of Radio and Television.

After Yang Yuanying finished, the audience burst into enthusiastic applause.

Research what? Research whether you can win awards, research whether your film and TV content can be watched.

Faced with such industry dividends, what I want to tell you is: stick to content innovation. Without large investment, let's tell better stories—storytelling is the cheapest, only consuming brains, not money. That's all I have to say. Thank you.

Still different roles, but all connected to film and TV creation—you always need a screenwriter, a director, a Producer for any film or TV project.

After all, many are just working in this industry without having independently created a single work.

The guests in the audience also grew quiet, their eyes fixed on the stage, knowing the meeting was about to begin.

A message? That's for students—too formal. I won't give a message today."

"Thank you, thank you Professor Yang—Professor Yang spoke very truthfully. Next, please welcome Jiao Huajing, Xiao Mingchao, Han Jia_nv, and Guo Fan to discuss the direction of film and TV content creation," Zhang Nan invited again.

Every creator must have a strong desire to express, to firmly express their own work."

Now that video platforms are nearly consolidated and competitors have been eliminated, they start demanding others follow rules.

It's a good chance to discuss your own views on content and share some creative experience.

Chen Zhixi held the microphone and said: "I believe creators must have self-expression, not blindly cater to the market—just because road movies or certain story templates sell well, you copy only those templates and road movies."

Zhang Nan wore a white suit, looking very appropriate; as he stepped out from the stage lights, he seemed almost saintly, glowing all over.

The guests below also cooperated, pulling out their phones and silencing them, not disturbing the meeting.

This kind of event organized by the people is different—it's more authentic and down-to-earth than official ones; say what you mean.

Of course, discussing among ourselves isn't very meaningful, but we have no choice now—the industry hasn't yet supported enough people, so this is all we can do. Time passed slowly; some guests went to the restroom, some whispered on the phone, but very few left.

In the past, we could only watch video content on TV, but now many young people prefer to watch on computers, phones, or tablets, meaning viewers' viewing tools have become more diverse and are no longer restricted by location—this will be a huge incremental market.

Of course, successful people always talk big about originality, innovation, and differentiation, but none of them started clean.

Chen Zhixi smiled in her seat and clapped her hands, recalling the time she first collaborated with the Principal—the story of copying someone else's success.

The guests below the stage perked up immediately; finally, it was the Principal's turn—they'd sat here this long just to hear what wisdom he'd offer.

When he said this, the audience below burst into surprise, murmuring in awe; someone asked their companion, "Did I hear that right?"

Fang Hong said nothing, but he was certainly going to strongly support the development of web dramas.

Even Zhang Chen of Happy Mahua was somewhat surprised—their planned film, Goodbye Mr. Loser, had only a twenty-million-yuan budget.

This meeting always brings together people of different roles to speak, to show them that this is a team-based creative process.

She spoke at length, sharing her production experience; when she finished, the applause continued.

Of course, we will also supervise your filming, but rest assured, it won't interfere with your creativity.

That's wrong—the content market should bloom with a hundred flowers. You'll see that Yutu used to make youth films, but no longer does; we know chasing trends leads nowhere.

Hundreds of guests in the audience clapped and laughed.

Without following trends, it's hard to say who can guarantee success.

She held the microphone, smiling, and said, "Hello everyone. This meeting may be long—please silence your phones. We'll try to maintain a quiet environment."

After about two hours, the discussion was nearly over; Zhang Nan invited again: "Next, please welcome Chen Zhixi, President of Yutu, to the stage for her speech."

The Principal was genuinely invested in advancing this industry.

Their experience, for those planning to make web dramas, was already highly valuable insight.

"Hahaha!"

If this were an official event, they'd spout a pile of clichés—boasting about glorious achievements, calling for gratitude and sacrifice.

Peng Yusi below the stage listened intently; he wanted to seize this wave of web drama momentum.

Only original content can ensure the industry's long-term development."

Fang Hong mentioned some restrictions and requirements—basically, a good story, a basic team: who shoots, who directs, and someone real must be there.

Otherwise, anyone could apply for this fund; what if those who got the money shot anything carelessly just to submit it, then ran off with the surplus? So with so much money invested, there must be restrictions and supervision.

Those in the audience listened and found nothing wrong—it made sense. Investors funding film and television productions have the right to supervise; every other investor and platform does the same, and that's perfectly reasonable.

Moreover, the Principal was lenient—he didn't demand large teams and granted them autonomy, not interfering with their creativity.

(End of Chapter)