Chapter 8

After eating, the two went to Guangxian, where Li Xiaoping, deputy general manager of the film division, received them.

Guangxian started with TV programs—entertainment news and event hosting—and only developed its film business a few years ago, achieving decent results through collaborations with Hong Kong directors.

But it still belonged to the second tier, lagging behind top players like Huayi and Bona.

Bona was at its peak precisely because it planned to list on the U. S. stock market, but later discovered American investors had no interest in Hua Guo film companies, forcing it to delist and return home.

Guangxian's success came after its IPO next year, when it shifted strategy: abandoning Hong Kong directors, nurturing new ones, and producing many blockbusters to enter the top tier.

Later hits like *Lost in Thailand*, *To Our Youth That Is Fading*, and *Chinese Partners* were all under its banner.

Li Xiaoping was a middle-aged woman with long black straight hair, somewhat dark-skinned, flipping through a script.

This Li Xiaoping was not the same person as the later Li Xiaoping who was rumored to have been kept by Xiao Wangzi.

That one was a Guangxian board member, later an external director of Maoyan—would such a person join Xiao Wangzi's team? That would be a pointless downgrade.

"This script doesn't seem to tell any story," Li Xiaoping said, flipping through it idly before setting it down.

The plot was scattered; indeed, there was no real story.

The two sat across from her desk; Fang Hong explained: "It's adapted from real campus experiences—campus life naturally has no drama, we just condensed the protagonist's years into one story."

"Even so, it's boring—no comedy, no emotional hook. Can you add elements like abortion, affairs, or a love triangle?" Li Xiaoping said.

"The script won't be changed," Fang Hong refused.

Just because you don't relate doesn't mean young people don't relate, or that ordinary folks who've entered society don't either.

The elite's sense of connection is truly different from ordinary people's! "Then I'm sorry, our company has limited funds and must be cautious," Li Xiaoping said, still polite.

If you won't change the script, then no investment.

She actually liked the story, but there was no conflict—she wanted to inject some.

"Alright, then that's it," Fang Hong said nothing, picked up the script, and left.

Outside the Guangxian building, Chen Zhixi asked, "Why didn't you agree to her? Adding a few elements wouldn't hurt."

"If I agree now, we lose all control—next they'll replace the actors, the director, the Producer. You're okay with that?" Fang Hong countered.

At first her reaction was fine, but hearing the rest, Chen Zhixi fell silent—because she'd be replaced too.

Guangxian's tradition of demanding script changes was old: later, *The Monkey King: Uproar in Heaven* was originally funded by them, but when the creators refused to alter the script, they pulled out.

*Wolf Warrior* was the same! After a full day, rested overnight, the two went to Bona the next day.

This company's department manager was even less sympathetic—he had security throw their script out and kick them out, telling them to go back to farming.

What kind of nonsense is this, coming to make movies?

They only work with Hong Kong and Taiwan filmmakers—two unknowns wanting to make a film? Ridiculous.

We'll give you a million, and still fear you'll run off!

This was too humiliating; Chen Zhixi's morale shattered badly.

She expected hardship, but not this much! Afterward, they visited Perfect Pictures, Xinli, Bona, Tangde, and numerous other film companies.

All refused without exception; some didn't even read the script—just seeing the duo, they judged them as hopeless, destined to fail.

Even China Film Group was visited, yet they couldn't even meet the person in charge—delayed endlessly, driving them mad! Such institutions operated like this! They even went to Zuoshi Wenhua and found Guo Xiaosi, the "leader of youth literature," hoping he'd have vision.

The company had just been founded.

But after reading the script, Guo Xiaosi said the male and female leads were too ordinary—neither gold-diggers nor brawlers; it needed drama to be good. He claimed that if he directed it, he could raise the bar on drama to new heights!

Screw your drama!

Fang Hong and Chen Zhixi walked out immediately—how absurd would your version be!

Night, the cramped single room in the hotel!

This was Fang Hong's room; Chen Zhixi's was a luxury suite—this girl had been rich for years.

The two sat facing each other; Chen Zhixi, exhausted, said: "Let's just give up."

She didn't want to run anymore—it was too crushing.

Let's lie low for two years, build a reputation, then try movies again.

Fang Hong had originally planned to list Wang Laoer as the nominal producer, anticipating this exact scenario—if they couldn't secure funding, they'd wait until they had some fame.

After all, the film would be released soon anyway.

But damn it, Wang Laoer refused, and he had no way to change his mind.

"So, giving up already?" Fang Hong smiled.

"Not giving up—just that we have no fame or connections now. Wait until we have connections. There'll be plenty of chances later," Chen Zhixi said, head down, deeply discouraged.

"But when?"

Fang Hong felt he needed to give her some confidence: "I already have three million. The gap isn't that big anymore."

"What?!" Chen Zhixi snapped her head up. "When did you get that money?"

They'd been together every day for the past few days—she knew every move he made—how could he suddenly have three million?

"You don't need to know. As long as the rest of the funding is secured, we can start right away," Fang Hong said.

"But the budget is ten million—the gap is still huge!" Chen Zhixi said.

"Ten million is ideal. With tight control, a few million can still get it done. Remember: a great Producer must first learn to make the best movie with the least money," Fang Hong said firmly.

Listening to him, Chen Zhixi sat stunned, unsure how to react—this man had always been quiet and unassuming, yet now radiated conviction.

As if he was about to lead her forward without hesitation.

"First, we cut salaries. I've already negotiated with Liu Tianxian—she's willing to act for zero pay," Fang Hong boasted.

Although Liu Tianxian hadn't agreed yet, that didn't stop him from blowing smoke to boost Chen Zhixi's confidence.

Confidence was the seventh divine artifact!

There was no choice—movies aren't made by one person; they're always team efforts.

"What?! How did you convince her?" Chen Zhixi stared, eyes wide—she knew nothing of this.

Liu Tianxian is a top-tier actress, coming to star in their little film—and even doing it for free; it looks like nothing but a beautiful fantasy.

Yet this man quietly pulled it off—his ability is no ordinary one.

Only those who have endured frustration and felt hardship can understand how precious it is for Fang Hong to secure three million yuan and invite a top-tier actress to star in the film. "You'll understand this later. If you eliminate unnecessary pay and cut costs carefully on locations, personnel, and equipment, the gap won't be as large as we imagined. Don't you agree?" Fang Hong said.

(End of Chapter)