Chapter 1294: Na Hong-jin

Zhao Fusheng was not one to be bound by formality; he approached good foreign films and works with an appreciative attitude.

Culture is互通; good songs and good film and television works can resonate with people across different countries, nations, and societies—there is no doubt about that.

For instance, in the 1980s and 1990s, Hong Kong films and TV dramas swept through Japan, South Korea, and Southeast Asia, while Japanese songs were often covered by Hong Kong singers, and many covers became even more popular than the originals.

Even after the millennium, the Dumpling Brothers' cover of "Old Boy" was more widely known in China than the original. One had to admit that many musicians in Japan were quite talented.

Of course, writing songs and singing are two different things—just like a certain Heavenly King whose lyrics are hard to make out when he sings, yet that doesn't stop him from being a top-tier singer in China.

In later years, there was a type of person online that Zhao Fusheng called "argumentative jerks."

These people were either extremely xenophobic or desperate to worship everything foreign. The former called themselves "angry youth" but didn't understand the true meaning of the term. The latter called themselves elites, but Zhao Fusheng preferred to call them "bootlickers."

What is an "angry youth"?

"Angry youth" is a term that emerged in China in the mid-to-late 1990s. In short, it refers to people with nationalist sentiments. Especially in the internet age, where people can express their opinions without restraint, many have fallen into the mistaken belief that as long as their starting point is patriotism, they can do anything.

And what is an "elite bootlicker"?

In essence, these people either have had contact with foreign countries or are outright overseas students who have received higher education. They desperately want to portray foreign countries as paradise, and no matter what China does, it's wrong. Even if their foreign daddy shoots someone, it's for public safety.

In Zhao Fusheng's view, both types of people are utterly ridiculous.

The former would accuse anyone who praised a foreign scenic spot of being unpatriotic or worshiping foreign things... Damn, it's just taking wedding photos; can't you say the seaside scenery is beautiful?

As for the latter, in their eyes, everything in China—from the water they drink to the air they breathe—lags behind the Western world. To use an idiom, bootlickers are pure ingrates who forget their ancestors.

Of course, countries and regions around the world are not lacking in such idiots; this is not a unique Chinese product.

For example, whenever a scientist passes away, the media goes all out to stir up concern for the younger generation, spouting lines like "merchant girls still sing the song of the rear court," claiming we don't care enough about the pillars of the nation who toil for the country.

Well, as a young person, Zhao Fusheng felt utterly exhausted.

Aren't the ones who usually don't report on these national treasures the media themselves?

On ordinary days, they desperately cover entertainment news for ratings and attention—a celebrity's divorce can trend on hot searches—but when something happens, they immediately distance themselves, putting on a posture of worrying about the country and the people.

Self-media outlets like that are all guilty until proven innocent; none of them are any good.

In their view, patriotism is just a slogan, a tool to grab eyeballs.

Moral blackmail is their common tactic; double standards are their code of conduct.

Zhao Fusheng could even be certain that if he officially announced his investment in the Korean film and television industry, people in China would surely curse him out, claiming that the Future Group lacks social responsibility and doesn't support the development of the domestic film and television culture industry.

They would never admit how much damage the current strict censorship system in China has done to the development of realist themes.

The double standard lies in this: Jiang Jinfu beating his girlfriend makes him a scumbag, while Zhang Yuqi slashing her husband and cheating on him makes her a feminist elite living freely.

In the logic of self-media people like Mi Meng, only principles that benefit themselves count as principles; truth and justice don't matter.

Those who wish to package themselves with "independent spirit, free thought" but lack knowledge and common sense often take cynicism as their strategy for action, use hot topics as entry points for criticism, and believe that shouting freedom is freedom, tearing down is rebuilding, and shouting slogans is insight—they think they are living in the first chapter of Genesis, which can basically be considered a test of ignorance.

...

...

After selecting the script, Zhao Fusheng decided to meet Na Hong-jin first.

In Zhao Fusheng's plan, whether it was film and television works or music works, it was all about exporting and then reimporting. That is, he would select people in Korea and eventually launch them in Korea.

For example, the EXO group that later became hugely popular in China—if Zhao Fusheng gathered these people in advance and collaborated with SM Entertainment to launch them in Korea, it would be like these effeminate pretty boys working their asses off to make money for him.

Zhao Fusheng had no reason not to do such a good thing.

Moreover, Zhao Fusheng could also select idol group members from China, such as Yang Chaoyue, Wang Ju, and Ju Jingyi, and form a team. As long as they were well-packaged, they could beat many Korean idol groups.

The term "idol group" has been popular in Asia since the late 1980s.

Whether it was the many rock bands in Hong Kong back then, or the later Korean boy and girl groups, including Japan's famous 48 Group, they all focused on idol teams. In short, no matter how high your standards, as long as there is one person in the group you like, the others naturally have a chance to be liked by you.

In other words, whether you're a group fan or a solo fan, once you become a fan, you're done for.

This is no joke; Yang Chaoyue tells us that even if you sing off-key, it's okay—debuted as the center is not a dream, okay?

The risks in the music industry are much smaller compared to the film industry, so when it's time to act, act. Zhao Fusheng wouldn't hesitate. But before that, he first needed to carve out a territory in the film industry.

For example, by dealing with the bespectacled, bearded man in front of him.

Na Hong-jin, born in 1974, was thirty-two years old this year. He looked quite masculine, more like an actor than a director.

At the beginning of this year, he shot an eight-minute black comedy short film with no dialogue, "Perfect Red Snapper Dish," which won the Best Work award at some obscure short film festival.

Then he tried to make a feature film, but couldn't find investors with his script.

In the original timeline, after several failures, Na Hong-jin went back to making short films, and apparently won the Best Short Film at the Korean Grand Bell Awards in 2007.

After that, he would get investment and shoot his first feature film, "The Chaser."

Then he achieved great success, joining the ranks of Korea's top commercial directors and launching two top Korean actors, Kim Yoon-seok and Ha Jung-woo.

But now, Na Hong-jin was not the successful big director he would later become. No one was waving checks begging him to direct or write scripts. He didn't even have money to shoot short films. According to Liang Jingyu, the guy had even ended up sleeping on park benches.

When a person is down and out, they have no right to negotiate terms.

So Na Hong-jin sat before Zhao Fusheng, as obedient as a primary school student.

"Chairman, this is Director Na Hong-jin." Liang Jingyu acted as translator between Zhao Fusheng and Na Hong-jin.

Zhao Fusheng smiled and said to him, "Tell Director Na that I really like the short film he made, and I also really like this script."

Liang Jingyu babbled the translation to Na Hong-jin, who immediately lit up with joy. Clearly, he knew who Zhao Fusheng was—the big boss of the company. Now that the big boss expressed liking his work, it was undoubtedly a very happy thing for him.

Zhao Fusheng smiled and pointed to the script in front of him, saying to Na Hong-jin, "I really like this script."

After Liang Jingyu translated, Na Hong-jin's face lit up with delight. He really hadn't expected that his script would be valued by the big boss. Could it be that his luck was about to turn?