Chapter 0875 "Cell Phone"

In fact, Zhao Fusheng had no memory of Ma Dajun in his previous life, but that didn't stop him from finding the story Jiang Wen told familiar.

Art comes from life and is higher than life, but even artists have to admit that life is often more melodramatic than art.

Just like now, Zhao Fusheng felt as if he had been drenched in a bucket of melodrama.

"Hey, what are you thinking about?"

Jiang Wen looked at Zhao Fusheng strangely, curiosity on his face.

Ever since he finished telling that gossip, this guy had been frozen in place, not saying a word, occasionally showing a weird expression. If Jiang Wen didn't know he was healthy, he might have suspected Zhao Fusheng was having some kind of episode.

Otherwise, no normal person would act like Zhao Fusheng did now.

"Haha, nothing. I was just wondering how many sweethearts Director Ma has." Zhao Fusheng joked with a smile.

"Hmph, that kind of person, a dog can't change its habit of eating shit." Jiang Wen said irritably.

Although he himself had divorced and found Zhou Yun, he had no good feelings for someone like Ma Dajun who cheated during marriage.

It's not a sin for a man to be promiscuous; single men and women can do whatever they want. But having a family and still fooling around outside—what kind of person is that?

Seeing Jiang Wen so indignant, Zhao Fusheng couldn't help shaking his head and laughing.

He couldn't tell Jiang Wen that people like Ma Dajun would become more and more common, not just in the entertainment industry. As times changed, some people's values in society were becoming increasingly twisted. Even "mistress villages" could appear, let alone cheating.

Even TV dramas about mistresses could spark a craze, make actors famous, and turn screenwriters into trending topics, not to mention other things.

The price of constantly lowering moral standards was that certain social mores became deformed.

It wasn't the fault of any one person. The reason, perhaps, was that we might have been emphasizing money above all else, forgetting that there are things in this world more important than money.

Of course, that had nothing to do with Zhao Fusheng. He was just a nobody. Even if he had a second chance, he wouldn't dare to find a mistress outside.

No way. Fan Baobao's domineering words still echoed in his ears: "If I get married, there's no divorce, only widowhood."

Zhao Fusheng never doubted the truth of those words, because he knew Fan Baobao meant what she said and would do it.

"Old Jiang, if we turned this story into a script and filmed it, do you think people would watch?" Zhao Fusheng suddenly asked Jiang Wen.

"Huh?"

Jiang Wen was startled and looked at Zhao Fusheng in surprise: "Are you kidding?"

Zhao Fusheng laughed: "Do you think I'm the kind of person who jokes about work?"

Jiang Wen frowned. He had known Zhao Fusheng for a while now. This guy usually seemed easygoing and occasionally lost his temper, but he had never seen Zhao Fusheng joke about work.

But on second thought, Jiang Wen still felt this idea was a bit unreliable.

Looking at Zhao Fusheng, he said, "But the problem is, your idea is too absurd."

After all, Ma Dajun was a well-known domestic director. If Zhao Fusheng did this, it would be a direct slap in the face. He had no grudge against Ma Dajun, so doing this would indeed be a bit excessive.

Zhao Fusheng shook his head: "No, no, no. Naturally, we can't allude to Ma Dajun. Although according to you, he's a scumbag, I just think his story gave me inspiration and made me know what to write."

"What do you mean?" Jiang Wen was puzzled, not quite understanding Zhao Fusheng's words.

"Nothing. I'll write it out, and you'll see."

Zhao Fusheng smiled faintly and didn't continue the topic.

Since he didn't say more, Jiang Wen didn't press further and instead chatted about other things.

The crew for "The Missing Gun" was being prepared, and soon they would officially start filming.

Jiang Wen had high hopes for this film. After all, he had personally convinced Zhao Fusheng, and Zhao Fusheng had helped bring in Future Films. This time, he really intended to make a good movie.

"If you have time, you can come visit the set." Jiang Wen said to Zhao Fusheng with a smile.

Zhao Fusheng nodded casually: "Don't worry, I'll definitely come if I'm free."

Watching Jiang Wen look so happy, Zhao Fusheng sighed inwardly.

He wouldn't visit the set. Jiang Wen was like a tyrant on set. Unless he was crazy, he wouldn't go looking for trouble. Instead, he'd rather stay home and write scripts.

...

...

A week later, Zhao Fusheng took his new script to Dong Chenxi's office at Future Films.

"Is this your new script?"

After reading it, Dong Chenxi stared at Zhao Fusheng in shock, her face full of astonishment.

Zhao Fusheng nodded and said with a half-smile, "What's wrong? Not suitable?"

"It's not that it's unsuitable, it's just a bit strange." Dong Chenxi smiled wryly and said honestly, "I've never seen a script with this kind of content before."

Zhao Fusheng's script was actually not complicated; the content was simple.

Famous journalist Feng Dagang left his cell phone at home when he went to a meeting at his unit. This small mistake led his wife Xu Juan to discover his secret with a strange woman. Recalling that her husband was all smiles outside but absent-minded at home, talkative outside but silent with her, the wife seemed to understand everything. She filed for divorce. TV reporter Shen Qingyu was Feng Dagang's new girlfriend. After a period of happiness, Shen Qingyu noticed a big change in the ringtone of Feng Dagang's phone: it had been switched from ring to vibrate. This aroused her suspicion and jealousy. From then on, Feng Dagang developed a severe fear of his phone and everyday conversations. Then, a female PR from an ad company named Hong Bingbing met Feng Dagang by chance on a train dining car. Feng Dagang had no intention of having the newspaper run the ad company's ad, but Hong Bingbing pursued him relentlessly. To get Hong Bingbing to help his ex-wife Xu Juan find a job, Feng Dagang agreed to her conditions, but from then on, his life became terrifying.

"What's the name of this script?" Dong Chenxi looked at Zhao Fusheng and asked softly.

"Cell Phone." Zhao Fusheng smiled slightly and answered unhurriedly.

At that moment, Dong Chenxi unconsciously glanced at the phone on her desk.

Everyone has their secrets, especially in their cell phones.

Dong Chenxi felt that Zhao Fusheng's film might really become a hit.