Chapter 438: Chain Reaction

This was a tastefully decorated bedroom, with dark gray velvet curtains drawn tight, shutting out the morning light from outside and leaving the room in total darkness.

Suddenly, a melody carrying a faint sense of sorrow began to play in the room.

"I remember when we fell in love in late December..."

Taylor Swift’s slightly husky voice, full of narrative depth, echoed softly in the air; this was her new single released in June of this year, titled "Back to December."

As soon as this sentimental love song was released, it climbed into the top ten of the Billboard charts and became one of the best-selling singles of the summer, with many boys and girls choosing it as their mobile ringtone.

It was the same at this moment.

About three seconds after the music started, a slender hand reached out from under the quilt, groping in the hazy morning light toward the iPhone 4S on the bedside table, and picked it up.

Turning off the alarm and checking the time, it was correct: 6:30 AM.

The lingering alcohol was still ravaging her fragile nerves; Luo Rui Eisner frowned, wishing she could hide back under the covers for five more minutes to ease her headache.

However, she had to get up.

The more difficult things were, the less she could allow herself to collapse.

An hour later, a red convertible Porsche 911 drove out of the underground parking garage of a high-end apartment complex, turning right into the morning mist onto a wide highway.

In the driver's seat, Luo Rui had a Sony Bluetooth headset in her right ear, and she pulled up to a stop at a traffic light.

The window of a Ford Mustang next to her suddenly rolled down, and a man in his thirties, who looked to be of Indian descent, whistled at her and said, "Hey beauty, nice car, want to get to know each other?"

Luo Rui acted as if she hadn't heard, looking at her phone screen, but not seeing what she wanted; she couldn't help but frown and immediately dialed a speed-dial number.

The other side picked up quickly.

"Hi Lauren, why weren't the materials for today's meeting sent to my inbox... Yes, what happened? I didn't receive them... OK, take a look right now and send them over immediately."

With her hangover still lingering and encountering such a thing, Luo Rui’s mood soured even further.

The red light turned green, and with a heavy press on the gas pedal, she instantly left the Ford Mustang a car length behind.

While driving, her mind was not at rest.

The topic of this morning's meeting was exactly the one she had worked so hard on, only for Ted Sarandos to regain his voice in recent days, and thus, "House of Cards" was being brought back into the conference room today.

What did this mean? She knew very well.

Precisely because she knew, she had gotten dead drunk at home alone yesterday.

As she thought about it, she felt agitated; hearing a roar of an engine, that Mustang had actually caught up, driving side-by-side with her on the morning Highway 101. It was rush hour, and there were plenty of cars on the road, but the Mustang’s driver had good skills, weaving through the traffic with ease.

She tilted her head slightly to look, only to see the Indian man in the driver's seat grinning and blowing her a kiss.

The corners of Luo Rui Eisner’s mouth twitched slightly, revealing a cold expression.

Half an hour later, the red Porsche 911 drove into a modern building in Los Gatos and parked in an executive-only space on the B1 level.

She turned off the engine, smoothed her slightly messy hair in the rearview mirror, then got out, straightened her suit jacket, and walked toward the elevator in her high heels.

As she walked, she opened the email on her phone to look at the meeting outline she had just received.

Blah blah blah...

Just as she expected, everything discussed today was nonsense—all content that had been mentioned before but later dropped.

Ted Sarandos was merely using this method to test...

No, it wasn't just a test.

Since he could take a project that had already been shelved and bring it back for all the executives to discuss, it perhaps already signaled Reed Hastings's attitude.

For her, it was undoubtedly terrible news.

Not just for this project, but perhaps for her entire career at Netflix.

Because as a woman, if you lose the initiative in the workplace, it is very difficult to have a chance to turn things around in most cases. This was a principle she understood when she was interning at Disney, and in last month's "People" magazine, the current Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg mentioned a similar point of view.

"Ding."

The elevator door opened, and a flood of light rushed in. The spacious open-plan office was filled with soft natural light, and the huge floor-to-ceiling windows faced the Santa Cruz Mountains; the morning mist had not yet dispersed, and the mountain shadows were like ink.

She walked out of the elevator, and a woman in her twenties waiting at the entrance hurried over, holding a folder, and said somewhat nervously, "Good morning, Luo Rui."

Luo Rui walked toward her office and asked, "Has Reed arrived?"

"Not yet."

"Luo Rui, I am so sorry, it was my fault, I didn't check..."

"It's okay, Lauren, go make me a cup of coffee."

"Ah, right, okay."

Ever since her previous assistant was fired in Cannes, her assistants had been replaced one after another, yet she had never found a suitable one.

This current one, Lauren, was an intern who had just arrived at the company; she had been by her side for less than a week and had already made many mistakes, big and small. Luo Rui couldn't even be bothered to say anything now, just waiting to ask the HR department for a replacement in a few days.

But in a sense, being able to send such a person to her side was a reflection of her declining status in the company. Thinking of this, Luo Rui’s mood worsened.

Entering the office, she hung up her coat and then turned on her computer.

Looking at the computer screen, Luo Rui took a piece of paper and, while pondering, wrote down her thoughts.

The original lead actor had finally announced their withdrawal.

For the "Eagle Catching Chick" project, this was indeed a devastating setback, turning it overnight from the company's darling into a pawn on the edge of a cliff, or even a discarded piece, making people feel that she had lost her power.

But she was not prepared to give up.

Because she had read the script, and she liked that story—rich in Eastern color, tense, exciting, and full of human games.

So, what could be done?

"1," she pondered for a long time before finally writing on the white paper.

"Knock, knock."

"Come in."

Lauren walked in with a steaming cup of coffee and placed it on her desk.

Luo Rui did not look up, frowning in deep thought.

The pencil lead remained stuck on that "1," unable to continue writing.

After a while, she realized there was no sound of the door closing; a sudden irritation rose in her heart, and she looked up and asked, "Is there anything else?" It was clear the intern was very nervous, tucking the red hair hanging by her face behind her ear, and said with a slight stutter, "Luo Rui, there is one thing. I, I just saw a piece of news on the internet, there is a video..."

The girl's voice grew quieter and quieter.

Luo Rui was getting impatient and interrupted her, "What do you want to say?"

"...I saw many people on the internet, they are all attacking him, I think, could it be... I mean, you know, will such a scandal affect his... next movie, is it possible that Hollywood companies will, because of this kind of scandal, um, refuse to invest..."

Luo Rui Eisner’s mind was currently filled with the upcoming meeting and how to persuade Reed Hastings not to change course.

Lauren’s words sounded very much like she was coming to gossip and ask about some of Hollywood’s operating rules; usually, she would have the heart to teach the other party, but not now.

Luo Rui took a deep breath; she didn't really want to scold anyone, but encountering a pile of unpleasant things early in the morning was really making her lose her temper.

"Enough," she said sharply.

Lauren immediately shut her mouth.

"Go see if Reed has arrived; if he has, come tell me immediately."

"...Yes."

"In the future, don't talk about these things in the office, especially during work hours. Remember, whether it's Spielberg or Quentin Tarantino, they all..."

Wait.

A soft "snap."

The tip of her pencil snapped off on the paper and flew far away.

Luo Rui froze for two seconds, then asked, "What did you say? Repeat that again, Quentin? What happened to him?"

One hour and ten-plus minutes later, in the largest conference room at Netflix.

"...'House of Cards' will redefine the production standards for television series; not only will it become the benchmark for our original content, but it will also directly change the viewing habits and payment willingness of the audience."

Ted Sarandos was in the conference room, spouting off about the prospects of "House of Cards."

This was something he had already communicated with Reed Hastings in advance.

The meeting itself was just a formality, intended to go through the motions and let the executive team "vote democratically," but in essence, it was just to legitimize his takeover of the project.

However, as he stood in front of the projection screen now, facing those familiar executive faces, he found that Reed Hastings, directly opposite him, had been staring blankly, his eyes wandering as if he were absent-minded.

Likewise, that bitch Luo Rui Eisner did not show the impatience, shame, or even pleading look he had expected; instead, she looked as if nothing had happened, keeping her head down and writing something stroke by stroke on paper.

What could she be writing?

He had betrayed her, thrown her away like a piece of trash, and abandoned this project.

She was finished.

Now, throughout the company, no one was optimistic about that "Eagle Catching Chick" anymore; no matter how much she lobbied, the company was entirely leaning toward him.

Once "House of Cards" succeeded, she would be completely swept out the door by him and kicked out of Netflix.

But why could she still smile?

What leverage did she still have?

As Ted spoke, an inexplicable sense of foreboding suddenly welled up in his heart.

Sure enough, when he finished, he did not get the expected statement from Reed Hastings, but rather: "Alright, thank you, Ted. Let's end the meeting here for today. Ted, come with me for a moment."

After saying this, the Netflix CEO was the first to walk out of the conference room door, followed by that blonde bitch as the second, and she didn't even look at him once!

Ted Sarandos confirmed once again that something must have happened somewhere he didn't know about.

Subsequently, the answer was revealed very quickly.

When he was in Reed Hastings’s office and heard what the other party said, he couldn't believe his ears.

"Just because of this, so Reed, you are prepared to..."

When Ted asked this, he had expected the man who had gone back on his word and played him like a fool to be a little embarrassed, but to his surprise, Reed Hastings just shrugged and said as if it were only natural: "Giving Luo Rui a little more time to wait for definite news, I think that should be normal, don't you think, Ted?"

Ted Sarandos felt as if his heart were being crushed by something; shame, grievance, annoyance, and the humiliation of being betrayed all mixed together, pressing down on him so hard he could barely breathe. In the end, he could only squeeze out a few short words through his teeth: "Yes, I agree."

"Ted." Reed Hastings looked at him and added, "I also think you should understand. Go ask any movie studio boss in Hollywood whether they would choose Kevin Spacey or Chen Nuo, and I don't think there would be a second answer. So..."

"I have to wrong you for now, and I am sorry."

"I don't know yet... Why are you so excited?"

"It's not that." Peng Haoxiang was not alone on the other end of the line; it was quite noisy, and his Hong Kong-accented Mandarin was exceptionally loud, making Chen Nuo instinctively hold the phone a bit further from his ear. "I'm not excited. A thing like licking feet—I have experience with it too. Which man wouldn't want to lick? It's clearly a small case. Making such a big deal out of it now, Director Quentin is really quite unlucky."

"Anyway, if you have an opening in your schedule next year, Boss, how about coming to shoot our film?"

"Heh. We'll talk about it when the time comes..." Chen Nuo just gave a perfunctory reply before hearing someone else take over the phone, saying: "Mr. Chen, Naihai, Xiangzai, and I all feel that for the role of A-Lai, you are the best person to play it."

Chen Nuo could not be as casual with the hired master screenwriter as he was with Peng Pang, so he immediately laughed: "Mr. Wei is too kind. There are so many excellent actors in Hong Kong, and there are many other choices, but regardless, we will definitely make this film. Please rest assured."

"No, no, no. Whether we shoot it or not is fine by me. But if we are to shoot it, and you don't come, Mr. Chen, it would be like us working hard to prepare eighteen ingredients to stew Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, only to have the most important abalone replaced by fish balls. The flavor would be lost by more than half instantly; for us cooks, that is the most heartbreaking and regrettable thing."

Wei Jiahui's polite words made Chen Nuo feel a bit embarrassed.

He couldn't help but sigh in his heart: Quentin, oh Quentin, what exactly are you doing? What is the meaning of this?

Now, it had been five days since the incident occurred, and there was still no response from Quentin's side.

Although this could be considered a way of handling certain public relations matters—just as he had handled his own salary issues in the past—at that time, he did not have a film project about to launch on his hands. He could, of course, choose to return to China and go into hiding for a while.

Quentin, however, was different.

If this scandal of his could not be clarified in time, it would definitely hurt more than just himself. But for Chen Nuo, this was truly something he could not help with, and he could only wait and see.

As it turned out, this wait lasted another week.

It wasn't until he was in Shanghai, after finishing Chen Ruoruo's first birthday celebration on the 15th, that he still hadn't received any word from Quentin.

He finally couldn't help but call, only to hear the sound of the phone being powered off.

In the end, it wasn't until he left Shanghai on the 16th and went to Jingcheng, preparing to treat Han Sanping to a meal, that he finally received a call from Quentin while at Ziyu Villa.

PS:

A bit short.

There is a special reason, please forgive me.

(End of this chapter)