Chapter 1270: The Script Problem

The film project was approved quickly, just as Jiang Wen had told Zhao Fusheng—it was inherently about promoting positive energy and a positive image, so the authorities had no reason to reject it.

As Labor Day passed, summer quietly arrived.

The weather grew hotter; even at six in the evening, many people were still wandering the streets. With nothing to do, Zhao Fusheng took Fan Beibei for a stroll.

There was no choice—Fan Baobao was at home rehearsing her last play before getting married.

Well, that's what she said.

Zhao Fusheng had no argument against that, so he obediently gave up the space and took his sister-in-law out for a walk.

'Sing if you want to sing, sing it loud...' A vaguely familiar song came from a street-side speaker. Zhao Fusheng felt a sudden flash of recollection.

If he remembered correctly, this song was the theme of a talent show on Mango TV. That show, which had swept the nation, had indeed launched a large number of female singers who later became top-tier stars.

Back then, even he had taken a look and was shocked by the styling of a few contestants. The top three—one looked like a man, another without glasses also looked like a man, and the only girl was dressed like a village belle—an absolutely eye-searing combination.

But now, hearing this song again, Zhao Fusheng suddenly felt as if he were in a dream, sighing with emotion.

At that moment, the setting sun on the horizon slowly descended, and the evening glow resembled a fiery red curtain, beautiful from afar.

'Brother, they're so ugly!'

Fan Beibei pointed at a billboard not far away, which prominently displayed a photo from Mango TV's talent show.

'Brother thinks so too,' Zhao Fusheng laughed, saying to Fan Beibei, 'They're not even as pretty as your sister.'

Fan Beibei immediately sided with her sister, nodding vigorously: 'Exactly, even though my sister sings terribly, she's good-looking.'

Zhao Fusheng rolled his eyes, looking helpless. He didn't know who the girl had learned from, but her sharp tongue was getting sharper.

'Don't talk nonsense.'

Zhao Fusheng patted Fan Beibei's head: 'Beibei, even if you think that way about people you don't know well, you can't say it casually, understand?'

Fan Beibei seemed to understand but didn't fully grasp it. At her young age, she couldn't comprehend why the adult world was like this—if you thought something, why couldn't you say it?

Zhao Fusheng felt helpless too. He wanted to tell Fan Beibei the harsh truth of the adult world but couldn't bear to.

After all, she was still a child.

'Brother, I want to eat KFC.' Fan Beibei looked up at Zhao Fusheng.

'That stuff is just fast food, nothing special.' Zhao Fusheng shook his head, rejecting the little girl's request for KFC. Ever since she heard him call KFC 'Kaifeng Cuisine,' she had insisted on using that term.

'But it's tasty,' the little girl whined, tugging at Zhao Fusheng's arm.

Zhao Fusheng waved his hand: 'Come on, I'll drive. Let's go mooch a meal somewhere.'

Mooch a meal?

Clearly, Fan Beibei didn't understand what Zhao Fusheng meant.

Zhao Fusheng didn't explain. He led the girl home, didn't go upstairs, but directly drove the car and headed straight to Jiang Wen's place.

'What are you doing here?'

Seeing Zhao Fusheng and Fan Beibei, Old Jiang looked surprised.

'Dinner,' Zhao Fusheng said matter-of-factly.

'Huh?' Jiang Wen was baffled, completely not getting Zhao Fusheng's meaning.

'We're here to mooch a meal,' Fan Beibei recalled her brother's words and said innocently to Jiang Wen.

Mooch a meal!

Jiang Wen's mouth twitched. He looked speechlessly at the innocent Zhao Fusheng and the cute Fan Beibei, suddenly wondering if he should consider moving.

'What mooching? I'm not eating at home tonight. Ye Jing invited me to dinner. You coming?' Jiang Wen paused, then asked Zhao Fusheng.

Zhao Fusheng was taken aback: 'Ye Jing invited you? About the film?'

'No,' Jiang Wen shook his head. 'Zheng Xiaolong set up a gathering, just a get-together.'

Clearly, this was a Beijing circle gathering.

After a moment's thought, Zhao Fusheng nodded: 'Sure, I'm mooching a meal anyway. Whoever set it up, I'm fine with it.'

He could understand why Zheng Xiaolong hadn't invited him—in their eyes, he was no longer in the same world as them.

This feeling wasn't shared by Jiang Wen, who dealt with Zhao Fusheng daily, but those who had less contact with him could clearly sense it.

After all, Zhao Fusheng, the boss worth billions, and Zhao Fusheng, the ad planner and screenwriter worth tens of millions, were two different concepts.

As for Zhao Fusheng himself, if Jiang Wen hadn't brought it up today, he wouldn't have deliberately attended these gatherings. But since he happened to be free, he might as well go for a spin and tell them about his upcoming marriage to Fan Baobao, saving the trouble of notifying everyone individually later.

Jiang Wen rolled his eyes at Zhao Fusheng's words and ushered him and Fan Beibei inside.

There were still over two hours until dinner, so he could discuss the film script with Zhao Fusheng.

As for Fan Beibei, she was immediately drawn to the child in Zhou Yun's arms and ran off to play with the baby.

'What's up, planning to earn more milk money?' Zhao Fusheng sat down on the sofa, picked up a piece of fruit, took a bite, and teased Jiang Wen with a smile.

Jiang Wen shot him a dirty look and said disdainfully, 'What's wrong with me earning milk money? I'm working for you, the capitalist, aren't I?'

Zhao Fusheng was the big boss of Future Film and Television, so his words weren't wrong.

But Zhao Fusheng wasn't easily cowed. He retorted, 'Don't forget, you're also a shareholder in the company. Besides, when you collaborate with the company, your studio makes money too, right?'

Jiang Wen was instantly silenced and simply turned away, ignoring Zhao Fusheng.

Jokes aside, business couldn't be delayed.

'As for the script, Ye Jing has already secured the approval. The rest is the specific content. I think we need to study it carefully,' Jiang Wen said, picking up a lollipop and eating it while talking to Zhao Fusheng.

Zhao Fusheng blinked: 'No problem, but why are you eating that?'

Old Jiang eating a lollipop—the scene was truly shocking to Zhao Fusheng. It was like Li Kui holding an embroidery needle—too terrifying.

A helpless expression crossed Jiang Wen's face. He smiled bitterly: 'It's not that I want to. Zhou Yun said she's afraid my smoking will affect the child, so she's forcing me to quit. She said, "You just like having something in your mouth, right? A lollipop is pretty much the same as a cigarette."'

Zhao Fusheng burst out laughing.

That reason was good and strong.

'Alright, forget about me. Let's talk about the script,' Jiang Wen said, quickly changing the subject when he saw Zhao Fusheng laughing so happily.

No way—if he didn't change the subject, Zhao Fusheng would laugh for half an hour.

Zhao Fusheng shrugged. Since Old Jiang had conceded, he'd let him off today.

'Here's the situation: first, we need to keep Chen Shijie's secret, right? And Wang Zhen, even you—we need to consider confidentiality,' Jiang Wen said directly to Zhao Fusheng. This was an issue he and Ye Jing had discussed earlier.

Zhao Fusheng nodded: 'I understand.'

He was genuinely pleased that Jiang Wen and Ye Jing had considered this.

In his previous life, Zhao Fusheng had seen many news stories where people were always lenient toward drug-related celebrities, thinking that since they admitted their mistakes, why keep punishing them. Back then, he really wanted those sanctimonious people to understand how many anti-drug police officers die each year, to see what the officers who are injured or killed in the fight against drug traffickers look like.

And some media—they always liked to blur the faces of criminal suspects, talking about protecting human rights and everyone's right to privacy. But for anti-drug police officers, those idiot journalists, citing freedom of the press, would casually leak their information.

Then came the brutal, inhuman, merciless revenge from drug traffickers.

Zhao Fusheng certainly didn't want a film to bring such revenge upon Chen Shijie or anyone else.

'We plan to set the story in Yunnan Province. Your senior's story will definitely be included, but we'll change your and Wang Zhen's identities. It becomes: his girlfriend, after learning of his accidental death, accidentally discovers his diary, then teams up with his classmates from the police academy to investigate and finally uncover the truth,' Jiang Wen said to Zhao Fusheng.

Zhao Fusheng frowned: 'If we write it that way, won't it be a bit cliché?'

He was telling the truth. If a film had selling points, the original story's selling points seemed to disappear after Jiang Wen's adaptation.

Jiang Wen was taken aback, then smiled bitterly: 'I have no choice. First and foremost, we need to consider how to keep it confidential.'

Zhao Fusheng shook his head: 'That's not how it works. If it becomes an ordinary commercial film, we don't really need to make it. We're not short on money.'

That was his true thought. If they were going to make it, it had to be exciting; otherwise, it was meaningless.

Jiang Wen frowned. He understood what Zhao Fusheng meant, but balancing exciting content with confidentiality—making it not obvious—was indeed difficult.

Zhao Fusheng rubbed his chin, also pondering what to do.

Just then, Jiang Wen's eyes lit up. He slapped his thigh: 'I have an idea. How about we shoot it like this...'