When Yuan Fenghui received Wen Ying’s call, Li Mengjiao’s variety show recording was nearly finished.
The top three contestants smiled for the cameras, but during breaks, they kept their distance. They were rivals during the competition, and even now, with their albums about to be released, they remained competitors.
Rivals don’t get too close.
Zhang Yangning, a girl with personality, didn’t bother pretending to be sisterly off-camera. Li Mengjiao, a bit of a goof with a tough streak, stayed wary of Xu Mei because of her annoying friends, Fu Jing and Pan Li.
Yuan Fenghui told her assistant to keep an eye on Li Mengjiao and stepped aside to take Wen Ying’s call.
“Have you met Screenwriter Zhang? Have you two talked?”
“I met him. He gave me his script, just a plot outline.”
Wen Ying didn’t complain, and Yuan Fenghui continued, “Zhang is an experienced screenwriter. Learn from him. If there’s anything he hasn’t considered, tell me directly, and I’ll handle it with him.”
Yuan Fenghui didn’t want to fuss over Wen Ying. Whether Wen Ying had only written MV outlines or published books and scripts, her value was the same to Yuan Fenghui.
Zhang had his arrogance, and so did Yuan Fenghui.
Taiwan’s star-making machine was indeed stronger than the mainland’s in 2005, a fact.
Wen Ying could write novels and scripts, rare for her age, but with enough money, any good script could be bought.
In this industry, screenwriters rarely called the shots.
Top directors could dominate, but screenwriters? Their status wasn’t high.
Still, Yuan Fenghui couldn’t ignore Li Mengjiao’s wishes.
Li Mengjiao valued Wen Ying, and so did Li Zhentao.
When Li Zhentao hired Wen Ying as a screenwriter, the other Tianjiao Film shareholders didn’t object.
Zhang could bend for five hundred thousand; Yuan Fenghui, too, had to respect the capital behind Li Mengjiao and the five million-plus investment.
In the entertainment industry, producers and directors had flimsy power without money. Capital ruled, just like in any industry.
If capital said Wen Ying was good, she was good, even if she wasn’t.
Yuan Fenghui offered a way forward, but Wen Ying stayed silent, surprising her.
“You think Zhang’s script isn’t good?”
“It’s not great.”
Honest Wen Ying didn’t sugarcoat, giving Yuan Fenghui a headache.
This girl might be clever, but has she eaten as much rice as Zhang has salt? I was just being polite, and she’s seriously picking flaws?
Yuan Fenghui rubbed her temples, “What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s not suitable for Mengjiao.”
Yuan Fenghui was speechless. Watching Li Mengjiao jog over, swinging her arms, Yuan Fenghui lowered her voice, “Send me Zhang’s script first, then we’ll talk in detail.”
Yuan Fenghui hung up, smiling at Li Mengjiao.
“How’s the variety show? Fun?”
Li Mengjiao thought it was okay.
TV made it look fun, but a one-hour show took a whole day to film, with scripted games. She used to think the guests were joyful, but now she knew it was mostly acting for the audience.
Still, Li Mengjiao found ways to have fun, adding her own flair to the script. When she dramatically flopped in front of the host, she saw Xu Mei’s eyes nearly pop out. Xu Mei clearly didn’t get her knack for finding joy in the grind!
It was fun, but her hands ached, so she kept swinging them.
Yuan Fenghui, exasperated, told the assistant to rub Li Mengjiao’s bruises with safflower oil, then tested her stance. Li Mengjiao didn’t know about Tianjiao Film’s founding or that Li Zhentao had hired Wen Ying to write the script. Yuan Fenghui asked casually, like a joke, if Li Mengjiao would want to act in a script by a Taiwan screenwriter.
Li Mengjiao, wincing as the assistant applied the oil, said, “Why a Taiwan screenwriter? If I’m acting, I want Wen Ying to write my script!”
What, you won’t act unless it’s Wen Ying’s script?
Yuan Fenghui considered firing Zhang, but seeing Li Mengjiao’s cute, pained expression, she held back.
“You’re my ancestor!”
“Ow!”
The little ancestor yelped, carefree and unburdened by celebrity airs.
Yuan Fenghui now knew Li Mengjiao’s stance.
They were still keeping Tianjiao Film from her. If Li Mengjiao found out, Zhang might be out of a job instantly.
Teenage girls don’t judge scripts by quality; they see a friend writing their script as a testament to friendship.
At this age, they don’t think about profit.
Li Mengjiao’s reaction was normal.
What wasn’t normal was Taiwan’s entertainment industry.
Many Taiwan artists attended arts schools and entered the industry as teens, already savvy at grabbing resources by Li Mengjiao’s age.
No bond outweighed money or fame.
Take the idol boy band Yuan Fenghui had made famous—never mind, compared to those ungrateful fools, this less clever girl was easier on the eyes.
Wen Ying said the script had issues, so Yuan Fenghui tried to stay calm while reviewing the outline Wen Ying sent.
She wasn’t looking at a friend’s work. Her goal was to make Li Mengjiao the star and make her famous; friendship was secondary.
The outline, which didn’t impress Wang Shuang, could be visualized as a series in Yuan Fenghui’s eyes.
The story wasn’t flat; it was highly complete, needing only detailed fleshing out.
Given Li Mengjiao’s age, the romance could be framed as “growth.” The female lead was a girl from an ordinary family with平凡 parents. One day, men in black barge into her home, kidnap her, and take her to a palatial mansion, where she’s told she’s the long-lost granddaughter of a wealthy family.
Many girls must have dreamed of this, right?
Unwilling to be ordinary, unsure of their future, they fantasize about being a lost heiress reclaimed by their real family.
Yuan Fenghui read on. After the heroine is recognized by her tycoon grandfather, the male lead and supporting males appear. The grandfather had adopted several boys after losing her, all now grown, handsome, and exceptional. The heroine is betrothed to the most outstanding one to take over the family business. The male lead, handsome but sharp-tongued, initially misunderstands and challenges her, making them bickering partners. The supporting males shine: one sees her as a sister, another falls for her, helping her through crises, while one, resentful of the grandfather’s choice, turns villainous.
Cinderella becomes a princess, with family feuds and tangled emotions—every kind of drama. This script was bound to be a hit.
From the outline and character designs alone, Yuan Fenghui knew Zhang hadn’t cut corners and earned his five hundred thousand.
She could easily find actors to match the male roles to complement Li Mengjiao.
With enough investment, this script had no reason to flop.
Gorgeous sets, a lavish villa, a handsome lead, and supporting males.
What was the problem?
Yuan Fenghui waited until Li Mengjiao finished recording and everyone was back at the hotel before calling Wen Ying.
“I don’t see a problem with the script.”
If Wen Ying knew her stuff, she’d see its potential, not nitpick.
Li Mengjiao’s opinion mattered, as did Li Zhentao’s.
But ultimately, Yuan Fenghui was the one pushing Li Mengjiao. If the Li family didn’t care about her future and let Wen Ying call the shots blindly, Yuan Fenghui would have to cut ties, no matter how reluctant.
“What did Producer Yuan say?”
Waiting all afternoon for Yuan Fenghui’s reply, Wang Shuang wanted to press his ear to Wen Ying’s phone to hear her response.
Wen Ying shushed him, putting the phone on speaker so Wang Shuang could listen.
When Wang Shuang heard Yuan Fenghui say the script was fine, he frowned.
Is Producer Yuan favoring her friend?
Wanting to argue, Wen Ying stopped him, and Wang Shuang’s face reddened from holding back.
Wen Ying explained patiently, “Teacher Yuan, I’m not saying Teacher Zhang’s script is badly written. It’s just not suitable for Mengjiao.”
Yuan Fenghui’s voice came through the phone, firm and echoing in the office, “This script is very polished. With a good male lead, whoever plays the heroine will shine. If Xu Mei had this chance, she’d laugh in her sleep!”
Xu Mei was too green.
Her attempts to climb higher lacked finesse.
The young master Cao she was cozying up to could get her gigs and better MV shoots, but spending millions to boost her? He didn’t have that kind of money.
Having a few million and spending a few million to promote a star were different. Li Mengjiao had a natural edge. By the time Xu Mei found better resources, she’d be left in the dust!
Yuan Fenghui wore many faces: in front of Mr. Guan, Li Mengjiao and her parents, Professor Fang, or Xu Mei, she showed what suited her best.
Now, she projected authority.
Her professional confidence and experience could overpower an assistant editor with no film experience!
Wen Ying gave a wry smile.
She didn’t know if Xu Mei would laugh in her sleep, but this script truly wasn’t right for Li Mengjiao.
Zhang hadn’t cheated anyone. When Wen Ying saw the outline, she recalled which idol drama from her past life it was.
It wasn’t a flop, but it was honestly pretty bad!
