Chapter 164: Settle the Deal
In the teahouse, Cheng Chen and Shang Jing sat facing each other.
Shang Jing was very interested in Cheng Chen's proposed "martial arts situational comedy."
Earlier, he had thought Cheng Chen had suddenly approached him to star in his TV drama.
Now it seemed, it might not be that simple…
"Mr. Cheng, besides being a singer, are you also a Screenwriter?"
Shang Jing asked Cheng Chen suddenly.
"Screenwriter?"
Cheng Chen was momentarily confused.
But he quickly recovered and said:
"During previous film shoots, I did gain some understanding of screenplays, because most of the roles I played were historical costumes."
So sometimes in my mind, I'd imagine scenes and plotlines.
I thought: if you shrink these scenes, fix the characters, and maintain dramatic ups and downs, isn't that exactly a situational comedy?
Of course, these are just my humble thoughts—I'm showing off before a master of situational comedy!"
Shang Jing waved his hand and said:
"There's no fixed definition for situational comedy—any show that makes people laugh out loud is good."
Whether it takes place indoors or outdoors, with one person or a group, there's no fixed rule."
But generally, people assume situational comedy means a group of people indoors causing laughter."
Actually, situational comedy originated abroad, typically as indoor drama without exterior shots.
What kind of scenes does situational comedy create? Like Chaplin, early on, one or a few people performed in a small theater.
Many sat watching, laughing as they watched, laughing as the actors performed—this joyful scene was called situational comedy.
For example, the filming set of "Idle Man Madam Ma" two years ago had actors performing directly in front of the camera.
On one side of the camera sat several rows of audience members, occasionally bursting into quiet laughter at the actors' performances.
Later, these audience laughter segments were preserved in subsequent situational comedies.
Even "Love Apartment," hailed as "modern situational comedy," never broke this "rule," always keeping the laughter.
"Tell me about the martial arts situational comedy you just mentioned—do you have a story in mind? Even fragmented plot ideas are fine; let's explore together."
Shang Jing smiled at Cheng Chen.
Clearly, his attitude had quietly shifted from initial skepticism to this "joint exploration" of Cheng Chen's idea.
Cheng Chen paused for a moment and said:
"Martial arts, in our minds, is about tragic compassion and vendettas, fantasies of past glory, and longing for simple human relationships."
In the martial arts world, we don't haggle over rice, oil, salt, and firewood—we must obsess over love, hate, and grudges.
On one side is the carefree freedom akin to financial independence; on the other, boundless romantic individualism.
When combined, this creates intense audience immersion, ensuring martial arts-themed art endures…"
This was Cheng Chen's personal experience from playing many historical martial arts dramas; in fact, the works of Jin, Gu, Liang, Wen, Huang all revolve around these themes.
TV dramas adapted from their story cores naturally cannot escape this basic outline.
Shang Jing nodded and said:
"Continue."
"The martial arts situational comedy I propose can be approached from two angles."
One: how do martial heroes make a living? Two: how do they live daily life?
Pull these 'great heroes' out of the complex martial world and bring them back to a small inn.
Turn all the martial world's swift vengeance and deep grudges into mundane household trivialities…"
For example, the charming thief king, upon hearing the words 'government office' or 'captain,' suddenly turns pale and can't walk.
Or a powerful female martial artist, to pay off debt, works for free—and constantly faces threats from her boss…"
And all these stories unfold in a tiny inn.
In this inn live a powerful thief king, a shrewd innkeeper.
A pedantic scholar who speaks only classical phrases, and government officers—constables and captains.
As a hub of information, the inn hosts different stories every day—
Like martial vendettas, grudges, and emotional entanglements.
Though lacking grand spectacles, the actors' performances portray these events with convincing seriousness…"
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Cheng Chen spoke at length about the plot and setting of Wulin Waizhuan.
Yes, he was about to set up Wulin Waizhuan.
As the pinnacle of domestic situational comedies, Wulin Waizhuan's achievements are inseparable from Director Shang Jing's guidance.
Some say it's the Screenwriter's credit—but that's not true.
Those who've seen the documentary and original script know Shang Jing is the one who gave Wulin Waizhuan its soul.
Since Wulin Waizhuan's script and concept haven't appeared yet, sorry—I'm taking the lead!
He won't just be the Screenwriter of Wulin Waizhuan—he'll also be its investor.
In his past life, Wulin Waizhuan struggled to find investors, hitting walls everywhere.
After finally securing funding, it was only ten million.
Ten million was far too little for an eighty-episode TV drama.
The director reportedly had to slash every actor's salary.
Ni Ni and Sha Yi's salary was 2,000 yuan, Da Zui and Xiucai only got 1,500, and Yao Chen got 1,000.
The actor playing Xiao Bei got 500 yuan, though here payment was per episode.
Although this pay was acceptable at the time, it certainly couldn't compare to other productions.
Not to mention the expenses for shooting other parts, yet despite this, the crew still pressed on under pressure.
How popular was Wulin Waizhuan originally?
It was said that at its premiere, it didn't attract much attention, and rumors claimed that because it was an 80-episode epic, they once considered stopping after airing 30 episodes.
But its steadily rising ratings made CCTV-8 unable to stop, and they decided to air all 80 episodes consecutively.
Wulin Waizhuan's ratings weren't high at first; on its first day, it reached only 1.95%.
But by the second day, it had climbed to 4.62%, and eventually reached as high as 9.49%.
It surpassed the 2005 ratings runner-up Jing Hua Yan Yun and neared the champion Liang Jian's peak of 10.3%.
Due to its high ratings, Wulin Waizhuan's advertisements went from unsellable to highly sought after.
At first, the post-episode banner ads couldn't be sold.
But as ratings soared, and the audience consisted mostly of young viewers with the highest spending power.
By the time the show reached its tenth episode, all post-episode banner ads had been sold out.
Meanwhile, all six six-minute ad slots on CCTV were fully booked.
According to CCTV's advertising department, by the end, even those wanting to advertise on the show had to use connections.
Keep in mind, the price CCTV paid for this drama was absurdly low—around 200,000 yuan per episode.
Thus, CCTV made a fortune off this low-budget "dark horse" production.
Conservative estimates suggest the drama earned CCTV nearly 50 million yuan.
Of course, although the selling price was low, the drama didn't lose money.
Keep in mind, the profit margin for sitcoms exceeds 50%!
This is why Cheng Chen envied this drama: with only a 10-million-yuan investment, the return rate was terrifyingly high.
Not to mention the subsequent rights extensions: film, animation, audio dramas, games.
In later terms, this was a classic IP!
Therefore, Cheng Chen must secure this drama!
Even if Shang Jing didn't direct it, he would find someone else to shoot it.
After hearing Cheng Chen's words, Shang Jing looked astonished, slammed his hand on the table, and said:
"Do you have a script? If not, write two episodes—I'm very interested in this story!"
For Shang Jing, who had grown exhausted with other sitcom genres and was desperate for change,
Cheng Chen's words struck him right at the core.
Just hearing Cheng Chen describe it, he already visualized a vivid, colorful martial arts world in his mind!
Cheng Chen hadn't expected Shang Jing to react so strongly, but he didn't continue as Shang Jing suggested; instead, he said:
"Director Shang, do you think this drama can be made?"
Shang Jing exclaimed excitedly:
"Just from what you just said, I already see great potential—especially setting the filming location in an inn.
This strong wuxia element is an exceptionally clever setup, both functionally and in terms of plot expansion—it's perfect for filming!"
Cheng Chen nodded; no wonder he was a master of sitcoms—he immediately grasped the key point.
Domestic hit sitcoms like Home With Kids fixed their setting in the "home" to highlight family stories.
Even later hits like Love Apartment, despite countless criticisms, didn't stop it from becoming popular.
Its setting emphasized the "apartment," gathering diverse protagonists within one apartment.
The inn in Wulin Waizhuan naturally became an equally vital symbol.
Thinking of this, Cheng Chen said solemnly:
"I can write the script anytime, but I have one condition.
I want you, Director Shang, to direct this drama, and for my company, Xinghuo Entertainment, to invest in its production.
If you agree, I'll start writing the script right away."
"You'll invest?"
Shang Jing stared at Cheng Chen in surprise, then calmed down and said:
"I'll read the script first. If it's suitable, I can agree to you.
As for investment and production, that's not my concern.
As long as the script is good, whoever invests—I'll accept the director role!"
"Fine, it's a deal. Let me get your contact information.
But I'm currently preparing an album; during this time, I'll write about ten episodes and send them to you.
If you're satisfied, I'll finish the rest of the script, and then we'll assemble the team and start filming."
Cheng Chen said firmly, looking at Shang Jing.
"You're releasing an album soon?"
Shang Jing suddenly asked.
"Yeah, my last album was a long time ago—my fans say I'm always neglecting my real job."
Cheng Chen chuckled bitterly.
"Amazing—if your drama gets made, Mr. Cheng, don't forget to write the theme song."
Shang Jing smiled.
"Hmm, but I can't start writing until Director Shang agrees to direct this drama."
"What if you say no? Then I'd have written for nothing—I only trust you with sitcoms."
Cheng Chen gave a light compliment.
"Hahaha!"
After their conversation, Cheng Chen returned home and plunged into scriptwriting.
He was an impulsive man; having finally caught such a big fish, he wouldn't let this small fortune slip away.
Sitting at the desk, Cheng Chen recalled the story in his mind and typed a line on his computer:
"Episode One: Miss Guo Smashes Tongfu Dian; Madam Tong Skillfully Guides the Lost Traveler."
……
While Cheng Chen was in seclusion writing, the production team of "The First Under Heaven" in Jingui City, thousands of miles away, was in chaos.
"Quick! Call a doctor!"
"Brother Peng is injured!"
"Someone help!"
The set was in turmoil; the popular young actor Li Yapeng lay on the ground, clutching his leg, pale-faced, sweat pouring from his forehead.
Producer Wang Sanri was also shouting for a doctor on set.
Watching Li Yapeng lying motionless, Wang Sanri's heart tightened—had the opening ceremony been poorly done?
Otherwise, why would something like this happen the day after filming began?
The doctor arrived quickly, examined and questioned him thoroughly, then said he must leave the set and go to the hospital.
Because during filming of "She Diao Yingxiong Zhuan," Li Yapeng had suffered a torn anterior cruciate ligament and severe meniscus damage in his left knee.
At the time, he completed the final three months of shooting with the aid of a wheelchair and crutches, despite his injury.
In April of the following year, BJ Tiyu Yiyuan performed six incisions, followed by six months of rest and recovery.
This time, the old injury had clearly recurred, compounded by new damage; if he didn't reach the hospital promptly, worse consequences might follow.
Wang Sanri obviously couldn't let Li Yapeng continue filming—he could only have the doctor and assistants take Li Yapeng away from the set…
Li Yapeng had many action scenes in "The First Under Heaven."
And he insisted on performing most of the stunts himself, refusing a stunt double.
He even joked with the martial arts instructors, "No problem."
But today, during an intense fight scene, he collapsed and couldn't walk.
After a long time, he reluctantly left the set, supported by crew members and assistants.
Yet, he insisted on finishing the scene before accepting treatment—less than half a day passed.
But the old wound hadn't healed when the new injury flared up; his condition suddenly worsened, leaving him unable to walk at all.
That's what led to what had just happened.
"Producer, what should we do now?"
The Assistant Director stepped forward to ask.
Wang Sanri clenched his teeth and said:
"Wait. Wait for news from Li Yapeng's examination tomorrow!"
As one of the three male leads in this drama, Li Yapeng's scenes were extremely heavy.
When scheduling, Wang Sanri had moved all of Li Yapeng's scenes to the front.
That's why they concentrated on filming Li Yapeng's scenes on the second day of shooting.
Now that Li Yapeng was injured, they could only wait until the examination results came in.
In truth, Wang Sanri hadn't given up hope.
He hoped Li Yapeng would bring good news—no disruption to filming, and he could resume work.
But this time, Wang Sanri was disappointed; the hospital sent word.
Li Yapeng's ligament was completely torn; he needed to have his meniscus removed, and after surgery, he'd need at least a month to walk again.
As for filming—especially a wuxia drama—it would depend on his recovery.
If he recovered well, he could resume filming in two months; if poorly, even three months might not be enough.
Upon hearing this answer, Wang Sanri completely broke down.
Three months? The entire crew would have wrapped by then!
That was impossible—they had to replace the actor!
But who?
News that Wang the Producer planned to replace Li Yapeng due to his injury spread like wildfire through the set.
Gao Yuanyuan, who played Liusheng Piaoxu in this drama, suddenly walked in.
"Producer Wang, I have an actor to recommend for the role of Duan Tianya..."
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End of Chapter
