Many thoughts flashed through Wen Ying’s mind, yet her face remained impassive as she asked Shui Mingyue, “How long will you be staying in Modu this time?”
Shui Mingyue, as always, smiled before speaking, her voice soft and gentle. “I originally planned to leave after the opening ceremony, but the production company asked if I could serve as a script consultant and join the crew. Novels are presented through text, allowing readers to have different imaginations. Adaptations rely mainly on visuals, so they are ultimately different.”
When novels are adapted into film or television dramas, readers feel both anticipation and fear.
They look forward to seeing a beloved work on screen, reaching more people who share their appreciation, yet worry that a poor adaptation will ruin the original.
Little do they know, the original author worries even more than the readers.
Readers invest emotion simply by reading, moved by each character’s ups and downs. The author, however, writes every single word, creates the characters, and pours in far more effort and emotional investment than any reader.
A work is like a child to the writer.
Selling film and television rights means the child has prospects, but it also means the child leaves the writer’s control. Whether it turns out well or poorly, the writer can no longer guarantee.
Someone as open-minded as Mu Fan has accepted this, often saying, “When children grow up, parents cannot control them. Let it be.”
Shui Mingyue had known Mu Fan long before the training class in the capital and immediately exposed his supposed detachment. “You did not used to say that. You thought your novel’s adaptation would sweep all major domestic awards.”
Mu Fan replied, “…Did I say such a thing?”
Stared at intently by Shui Mingyue and Wen Ying, Mu Fan awkwardly touched his nose. “Alright, suppose in my youthful ignorance I did say that, but I have let go now.”
Mu Fan had been forced to let go.
He too had sold rights, and one book had even been adapted and broadcast.
The drama mangled his original story beyond recognition. After watching, Mu Fan thought he had developed early-onset dementia, unable to match the drama’s plot with what he had written. Compelled to dig out his own book and reread it several times, he gritted his teeth and finished the series, finally realising: it was not dementia. Apart from keeping the character names, everything else had been changed almost entirely.
It had deeply frustrated Mu Fan at the time.
Was his story not good enough?
If the story was good, they should have filmed it faithfully.
If it was not good, why buy the rights and waste money?
As someone who had been through it, Mu Fan sincerely advised Shui Mingyue, “Anyway, do not set your hopes too high, or you will only be disappointed later.”
Shui Mingyue remained quite expectant. “The production company has invited me as a script consultant, which shows sincerity. My book should not end up as badly as yours did.”
Wen Ying agreed with this.
In her previous life, Shui Mingyue must have agreed to join the crew as a script consultant.
Although the drama was delayed until after 2012 before airing, it received widespread praise upon release and was indeed a successful adaptation.
The company not only invited Shui Mingyue to consult on the script, but the casting, which Shui Mingyue had seen, fitted her descriptions quite well.
Of course, among all the people Shui Mingyue had met in her life, the one who most resembled a male lead straight out of a romance novel was still the one who had visited Wen Ying at the literature college.
Unfortunately, he was not an actor.
Just as Shui Mingyue thought of this, Wen Ying suddenly asked, “Besides sincerity in script polishing, what about the casting? Are you satisfied?”
Shui Mingyue nodded. “The female lead has already acted in two dramas. The male lead is a newcomer. Though we could not get Yun Chen, I am actually more satisfied with the current male lead. I do not mean Yun Chen is bad, but he is already famous, and I worried audiences might have fixed impressions of him.”
Shui Mingyue was gentle with people and spoke as softly as a spring breeze, yet she also had a touch of perfectionism.
She hoped her novel’s first screen adaptation would be as perfect as possible.
To that end, after the opening ceremony, when the production company invited her to join as a script consultant, Shui Mingyue readily agreed. After all, no one understood her work better than she did. With her overseeing, the final result should not be worse than Mu Fan’s disastrous adaptation, right?
Sure enough, Shui Mingyue had already accepted the role of on-set script consultant.
Wen Ying could think of no reason to dissuade her.
Yes, if Shui Mingyue did not join as consultant, she would not become familiar with the current newcomer male star. Without that familiarity, he would not obtain rights to Shui Mingyue’s novels.
In her previous life, when facing media interviews, the male star claimed he had bought rights to several of Shui Mingyue’s novels early on. Journalists praised his foresight, and his fans mindlessly hyped him as a visionary business genius.
Wen Ying, not a writer then and unfamiliar with the industry, had seen no issue with his claim.
Now, thinking carefully, she found holes everywhere in that story.
Currently, film and television rights were not yet as expensive as they would become over a decade later. Some writers, eager for adaptations, would sell cheaply.
But that applied to ordinary writers, not Shui Mingyue.
With her huge reader base and proven sales, Wen Ying knew without asking that rights to one of Shui Mingyue’s novels now fetched seven figures.
So how could an unknown male star afford to buy rights to several of her books at once?
Wen Ying had many suspicions, yet showed nothing on her face. Instead, she smiled in agreement with Shui Mingyue. “Having you control the script yourself is certainly best. Will the entire drama be filmed in Modu?”
“Some later scenes will be shot in the neighbouring province, but most filming will take place in Modu. So I will be staying here for quite a long time.”
Shui Mingyue’s eyes were full of anticipation.
Wen Ying smiled. “That is great. We can meet often. In novel writing, you are my senior. But in television scripts, I probably have more experience. If you encounter difficulties while on set, contact me anytime. We can exchange ideas, and you can avoid detours.”
Shui Mingyue was delighted. “Rest assured, even if you had not offered, I would have shamelessly asked for your advice.”
Seeing Wen Ying and Shui Mingyue chatting animatedly, Mu Fan quietly paid the bill.
Shui Mingyue protested politely, but Mu Fan said she could treat next time.
While Wen Ying went to the restroom, Shui Mingyue lowered her voice. “Are you serious?”
Mu Fan nodded. “As serious as you are about this adaptation.”
Shui Mingyue was quite worried.
Mu Fan was a friend, and so was Wen Ying.
If Wen Ying had not already met that stunning “good friend” first, Mu Fan and Wen Ying would actually make a good match. Two writers would never lack common topics.
Unfortunately, Mu Fan had met Wen Ying too late.
Shui Mingyue said seriously, “A fine lady is sought by gentlemen. I have no standing to stop you, but I hope you express your feelings openly and honestly, without any sneaky moves. That way, even if Little Fish ultimately rejects you, we can still remain friends… Mu Fan, lovers may come and go, but true friends who know and understand each other can accompany us for life. Think it through yourself.”
Mu Fan had already thought it through clearly.
He had come to Modu early. Why had he not proactively arranged to meet Wen Ying?
Mu Fan wanted to confirm whether his feelings were fleeting.
This meeting showed him that the affection remained.
Since Wen Ying had no boyfriend, he naturally had the right to pursue her.
