What’s up with screenwriters?
There’s a renowned female romance novelist from Taiwan whose dramas are guaranteed hits, and it’s said that not even a single punctuation mark in her scripts can be changed.
Normally, a screenwriter with such strict demands would be put in their place by investors, but this romance novelist’s talent is undeniable. If she says no changes, no one dares to touch a word.
Not convinced?
Tough luck, because she’s never short of investors or platforms.
On the mainland, there’s an equally formidable male screenwriter whose dramas make stars out of whoever acts in them, launching many talented newcomers. He’s just as uncompromising with casting, only using newcomers he approves of, ignoring investors’ preferences and even market trends, because his dramas are a ratings magnet!
Ordinary screenwriters are at the bottom of the film and TV food chain, but a top-tier screenwriter can rise to the top of the ecosystem!
Wen Ying is still far from being a top-tier screenwriter, but her timing in entering the industry is spot-on. After the millennium, China’s film and TV industry is booming, and current TV stations value dramas with both ratings and critical acclaim, unlike a decade or so later when traffic and capital dominate, and the importance of scripts is diminished to rock bottom.
So, even though Wen Ying isn’t an established name, with Director Fan’s recommendation, TV station executives treat her with courtesy.
—This is Yuan Fenghui building momentum for Wen Ying!
Wen Ying deserves this treatment.
Li Mengjiao’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
If not for Yuan Fenghui’s warning glance, Li Mengjiao would’ve pushed past everyone to sing Wen Ying’s praises in front of the station executives.
Yun Chen noticed Li Mengjiao’s eagerness and gently tugged her sleeve.
Everything’s best in moderation.
The current approach was perfect, subtle and seamless.
The glory meant for Wen Ying couldn’t be taken by anyone.
Even if others were only being polite to Wen Ying for the sake of Teacher Yuan and Director Fan, that was enough for now.
Once Wen Ying produces a few more hit dramas, she won’t need anyone to boost her—she’ll be the centre of attention in the industry wherever she goes!
Li Mengjiao was still a bit unsatisfied, unaware that Cao Bo and General Manager Guan were already dumbfounded.
Yu Tianlin, too, harboured doubts.
His assistant had dug up some info: Wen Ying and her two companions were Li Mengjiao’s classmates from a top high school in Rongcheng Province, not newcomers Yuan Fenghui was heavily promoting.
The only connection to Yuan Fenghui was likely that round-faced girl.
A teenage author, also credited as a screenwriter.
…What, is Yuan Fenghui now promoting newcomers beyond actors and singers, even turning writers into “idols”?
Can she pull it off?
Yu Tianlin was starting to question reality.
Cao Bo and General Manager Guan, meanwhile, were uneasy.
They had secured Zhang Guangzhen for the script early on and clung to him because he’d written the smash hit *The Princess’s New Clothes*.
As for the other name listed in the screenwriter credits, Cao Bo had dismissed it from the start.
Just a credited name, right? Who’d expect a high school girl to actually write a script!
Even if Wen Ying wrote a bestseller like *Teen Idol*, it didn’t prove her screenwriting ability.
Novels can rely on emotionally charged prose, and beautifully melancholic young adult authors thrive by captivating readers with such writing.
Scripts are different from novels—beautiful prose isn’t the point!
The core of a script is creativity and storytelling. Plot progression relies not just on dialogue but also on extensive use of visual language.
Writing a good novel can come from reading and wild imagination.
Writing a good script, however, requires life experience.
Neither Cao Bo nor General Manager Guan believed Wen Ying contributed much to *The Princess’s New Clothes*. Her age was the perfect smokescreen, fooling them completely.
But—
Here’s the key!
If Wen Ying truly contributed nothing to *The Princess’s New Clothes*, would someone like Director Fan bother speaking to her?
“General Manager Guan, could we have…”
A thought stuck in Cao Bo’s throat.
He wanted to ask if they’d backed the wrong horse, invited the wrong screenwriter.
General Manager Guan suppressed his unease and dismissed Cao Bo’s suspicion, “Impossible. This might be Yuan Fenghui’s smokescreen. If we waver now, how can we proceed with filming? Mr. Jin has already approved the increased budget—that’s our confidence!”
A 30 million yuan budget for an idol drama was quite substantial.
Money doesn’t guarantee a good drama, but it’s better than having none.
Of the 30 million, Mr. Jin personally covered 20 million, while General Manager Guan and Cao Bo each chipped in 5 million.
Mr. Jin was the main investor!
General Manager Guan urged Cao Bo not to fall for Yuan Fenghui’s tricks. Suddenly, Yu Tianlin spoke up, “Since the script’s settled, let’s clear the remaining payment to Zhang Guangzhen. A production this big isn’t short on that budget.”
Yu Tianlin, recalling Yuan Fenghui’s earlier actions, felt uneasy.
In front of so many people, Yuan Fenghui had asked the station executives to “look after” Yu Tianlin. If he sabotaged her in return, how bad would his reputation in the industry become?
Any moves had to be made discreetly, not out in the open.
This was Yu Tianlin’s first mainland drama, and before filming even started, a scandal about withholding a screenwriter’s payment would be a disgrace!
General Manager Guan dared to delay Zhang Guangzhen’s payment but couldn’t go against Yu Tianlin.
When Yu Tianlin demanded the payment be settled, General Manager Guan couldn’t refuse.
It wasn’t like they were short on funds.
It was just to mess with Zhang Guangzhen… but since it wasn’t Yu Tianlin’s money, he didn’t care one bit!
“I was just joking earlier. Of course we’ll pay. Zhang Guangzhen’s script is worth that price,” General Manager Guan said with a chuckle, changing his tune.
Cao Bo felt a twinge of regret for not adding more scenes for Xu Mei.
His obsession with Xu Mei wasn’t deep love—it was a newfound path to wealth. Chasing girlfriends in the industry was a waste of resources; he should’ve started his own film production company long ago to rake in profits.
A film company doesn’t just make money—it controls industry resources, which means controlling influence.
With influence, what female star couldn’t he pursue?
Cao Bo’s gaze lingered on Li Mengjiao, who was chatting closely with Zhang Yangning, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
—What a lively girl!
…
When Yuan Fenghui made a move, it was always a checkmate.
She knew Yu Tianlin’s character too well!
Zhang Guangzhen’s payment would likely be settled on time, right?
Yuan Fenghui quietly helped Zhang Guangzhen without taking credit. Director Fan liked Wen Ying, but Yuan didn’t forget Zhang Guangzhen, praising both him and Wen Ying generously.
The station executives who came with Director Fan had some doubts about Wen Ying’s screenwriting ability but trusted Zhang Guangzhen completely. They even asked if he had time, as Hunan Satellite TV was planning to produce its own drama.
“Teacher Zhang, if you’re interested, we can discuss details,” one executive said, handing Zhang Guangzhen a business card.
Zhang Guangzhen was dazed.
Another job offer?
Wait, wasn’t today about promoting Wen Ying? Would accepting work steal her spotlight?
Zhang Guangzhen looked up. Yuan Fenghui nodded encouragingly, showing no resentment.
Even Wen Ying smiled graciously, ever magnanimous.
Wang Shuang nudged Zhang Guangzhen’s back, “Come on, agree already!”
—Ugh, how’s Teacher Zhang so clueless? No wonder he almost got nabbed by that coal boss earlier!
Zhang Guangzhen was at a loss for words.
Xie Qian lowered his head with a smile. Teacher Zhang had spent so long in the dark side, now suddenly switching to the light, he wasn’t quite used to it yet.
