Chapter 1875: How About Opening a Restaurant?

In mid-March, Xinbaoyuan and Huayi, together with Future Film, officially announced that they would jointly invest in the film *Let the Bullets Fly*.

Moreover, several important supporting roles in the film would be played by artists from the two companies.

Opinions varied widely on this.

After all, news of Future Film's big production had been buzzing recently, and many were guessing what Future Film's real intentions were.

Now, the truth had come to light.

It turned out they were just uniting with their allies.

That said, Zhao Fusheng knew full well that he hadn't intended to do that at all.

But since things had come to this, denying it would be meaningless, so he might as well let the media speculate.

When he had nothing to do, Zhao Fusheng called Yu Feihong and, learning that their filming was going smoothly, decided to visit the set.

After all, it was his own company's self-produced drama; as the boss, it was only right for him to check in.

Even if he didn't go, no one would complain, but Zhao Fusheng wasn't one to be so tactless.

Yu Feihong had no objections; she was actually pleased that Zhao Fusheng would come, as it at least showed the company valued the project.

Of course, that's what she told the actors.

Privately, Yu Feihong told Zhao Fusheng he didn't need to go to the trouble.

She truly meant it, since Zhao Fusheng wasn't Ye Jing; he was the chairman of Future Group, with a status different from ordinary people, and didn't need to bother with such small matters.

Zhao Fusheng, however, disagreed. In his view, since his status was different, he didn't need to care about outside opinions.

"Sis, don't overthink it."

Zhao Fusheng said to Yu Feihong with a smile.

He understood what she meant—she was worried that his constant focus on Future Film might upset others in the group.

But the thing was, he didn't need to care about others' gazes when doing what he wanted.

The entire Future Group was his; he could focus on whatever business he liked, and it was none of their business.

"As long as you know what you're doing."

Seeing Zhao Fusheng's expression, Yu Feihong knew he had made up his mind.

Having known him for so long, she was well aware that he seemed easygoing but was actually very decisive.

To put it bluntly, he was stubborn.

Once he set his mind on something, he would see it through no matter the cost.

Yu Feihong also knew Zhao Fusheng had his own considerations, but as his sister, she couldn't help but advise him.

"By the way, is the filming going smoothly?"

Zhao Fusheng asked Yu Feihong.

"Not bad."

Yu Feihong smiled: "Making a TV drama is different from a movie; relatively speaking, TV dramas are simpler."

Having directed a movie herself, she was qualified to say that.

In TV dramas, actors serve the plot; in movies, actors serve the director.

As a film, the acting style tends toward expression—simply put, picking out the essence of the script to show the audience.

TV dramas, on the other hand, emphasize presentation—throwing everything out there for the audience to enjoy.

Another issue: when actors learn acting, teachers don't teach so-called "TV acting" or "film acting."

Mostly they learn stage performance and screen performance. Stage acting requires rich body language and big movements so the audience can see clearly.

Screen acting is subtle and refined, ensuring it doesn't look jarring on camera.

Therefore, whether an actor's performance suits a TV drama or a film mainly depends on the director's guidance.

For instance, Tony Leung's smile in *Infernal Affairs* and Zhang Zifeng's smile in *Detective Chinatown*—it's hard for the audience to judge whose performance is superior.

But when the director places those two smiles in different contexts, the audience can immediately tell whose smile carries more meaning.

In fact, when acting in a TV drama, the director doesn't interfere much with the performance; as long as the plot flows, exaggeration, oddness, or even formulaic acting is fine.

When acting in a film, the director interferes a lot because the film is director-driven. The director goes all out to ensure the final output is exactly what he wants—like spending a long time cultivating the actor's emotions before shooting, demanding multiple takes of a scene in different ways for the best result, or even altering the actor's personality through psychological cues.

Of course, this involves professional matters, and Yu Feihong didn't intend to explain it to Zhao Fusheng.

She knew he wasn't interested in that.

"By the way, sis, have you ever had barbecue from my hometown?"

Zhao Fusheng suddenly remembered something and asked Yu Feihong with a smile.

"Barbecue?"

Yu Feihong looked puzzled: "What do you mean, the kind Koreans eat?"

"The kind Koreans eat?"

Zhao Fusheng was taken aback, then shook his head: "That's nothing—just a few ounces of meat, not enough to fill you up, and they add all sorts of junk. I mean the barbecue from Northeast China. I'll get some meat sometime and let you try it."

"What are you up to?" Yu Feihong asked, confused.

She knew Zhao Fusheng wouldn't bring this up for no reason just to have a meal; that wasn't his style.

Sure enough, hearing her question, Zhao Fusheng laughed: "Opening a restaurant, of course."

Open a restaurant?

Yu Feihong was surprised, looking at Zhao Fusheng: "You're opening a restaurant?"

"Not me."

Zhao Fusheng shook his head: "You and Fan Baobao."

"..."

Yu Feihong was silent for a long time, staring at Zhao Fusheng in bewilderment.

His behavior was too inexplicable—showing up out of the blue and then bringing this up. What was he really up to?

"It's nothing."

Zhao Fusheng shook his head: "You know, Future Group doesn't do food or pharmaceuticals because they're unsafe."

"I know that." Yu Feihong nodded; she had heard that it was Zhao Fusheng's decision.

"But my hometown has some specialty cuisines, like iron pot stew and barbecue. I thought since you don't have a side business, you and Fan Baobao could invest together and open a few Northeast-style restaurants."

Zhao Fusheng looked at Yu Feihong sincerely: "Sis, you don't take many acting jobs now, and you don't manage much at the company. This could be a side gig."

"You little rascal, I get it." Yu Feihong shot him a glare and nodded with a smile: "Alright, I'll listen to you."

She wasn't stupid. Though Zhao Fusheng put it that way, she understood his intention.

He was just finding a way to give her another income stream.

After all, with Zhao Fusheng's insight, any opportunity he saw as promising was bound to develop.

Of that, Yu Feihong had no doubt.

...

...

Since he was visiting the set, he naturally had to meet the crew. Zhao Fusheng didn't say much, just encouraged them briefly before leaving the set.

The gap between his status and theirs was too wide; there was no way to communicate.

Even if he was friendly, the other party would be nervous and stammer.

Not everyone could face him without tension like that guy Wang Qiang.

On this point, Zhao Fusheng had to admit that Wang Qiang's success had its reasons.

Being consistently the same with everyone, whether a big director or a small actor—just that made Wang Qiang far better than most old-timers in the entertainment circle.

In his previous life, Zhao Fusheng had seen a news story that Wang Qiang went home every harvest season to help his parents with the crops.

Thinking about it, this showed he never forgot his roots.

With someone like that, at least you didn't have to worry about him turning into an ungrateful wolf after success.

If he were like Chen Sicheng, Zhao Fusheng would have to be careful.

"Let's go back."

Zhao Fusheng got into the car and said to Wu Sijie.

Wu Sijie had just returned from Hong Kong, where he had been gathering information on global financial markets.

"Chairman, the situation this time is very grim."

Wu Sijie said from the car: "I suspect this economic crisis might affect our country."

"Yes."

Zhao Fusheng nodded lightly but said nothing.

In fact, he knew better than Wu Sijie what impact this global financial crisis would have on the entire economic sphere.

In a sense, China's economic development had entered an unhealthy track, with real estate—a highly profitable industry—becoming a sector affecting national welfare, triggered by this crisis.

Thinking of certain real estate tycoons in later years casually tweeting things like "housing prices are too low," Zhao Fusheng felt such people could truly be called national thieves.

Starting with connections and backgrounds, they made their first fortune, then exploited national policies for profit—even learning in advance about demolition sites, acquiring land at extremely low prices, taking out bank loans for development, selling off the properties, and pocketing the profits.

As for the bank loans, well, since no one pressed, they just let them sit.

That was the common trick of many real estate tycoons!

Whether it was Wang the self-made man or Pan the "housing prices too low" billionaire, their paths to success were not exactly glorious.

But times change, and with fame and success, no one bothers to look into their rise. Even if someone knows the truth, who would willingly offend others by being the first to speak out?

It's like the dark pasts of big names in the entertainment industry—no one wants to expose them. Not because no one knows, but because no one dares to speak.