“When do we start filming?”
Jiang Yue took a sip of his iced Americano, letting the bitterness of the coffee neutralize the sweetness lingering in his mouth, and smoothly pulled the conversation back on track.
“Whenever you're free.”
He crumpled a napkin into a ball and tossed it into the small trash can beside the table.
“I put together the investment with a few friends. It's not a lot of money, but it's enough.”
“I've already scouted the locations in Shancheng. It's foggy and has a surreal terrain, perfect for a suspense thriller. Whenever you can clear your schedule, that's when we'll start shooting.”
“It would be best if we could head over a week early to get familiar with the environment.”
Jiang Yue ran through his schedule in his head.
The promotion for 《The Grand Game》 was already winding down, and it would be released on Kiwi Video in about ten days. His performance in it was eye-catching, but given his billing, he wouldn't need to participate in the entire promotional tour and interviews.
Over at Yuantu Technology, the underlying logic network was complete, and the closed testing of the algorithm model had concluded successfully. Next came investor coordination and product launch; Li Hai would oversee the business side of things. Since Jiang Yue held a technical stake, he only needed to wait for his dividends at the end of the year.
Jiang Yue set his cup down.
“I'm good on my end.”
He gave a definitive answer. “Once the contract paperwork is finalized, I can join the crew next week.”
Cheng Songran slapped the edge of the table, causing the saucer to rattle slightly.
“Awesome!”
“I'll email the contract to your studio's inbox later. The salary will follow market standards. Our budget might be tight, but I won't shortchange my own brother.”
This dessert meeting ended on a high note, leaving everyone thoroughly satisfied.
As they walked out of the dessert house, Cheng Songran put on a pair of oversized aviator sunglasses and waved to the two of them.
“Brother Yue, Brother Kaiwen, see you in Shancheng!”
“I'll head back and revise the script first. I need to add those details we just discussed.”
Cheng Songran hastily slipped into a taxi. Its taillights flashed, and it quickly disappeared around the corner.
Jiang Kaiwen stood by the roadside, still a bit dazed.
“Third Brother, is this director... really reliable?”
Jiang Yue pulled open the car door.
“If the script is reliable, the person is reliable.”
He bent down and climbed into the car.
“Let's go back and prepare for Shancheng.”
After that, the gears of Yuchuan Media Studio began to turn.
Chen Fei sat in front of his computer, timing the release of 《The Grand Game》 promotional materials based on the popularity curve of 《Star Weekend》.
The volume didn't need to be massive—just a daily behind-the-scenes clip of Jiang Yue or a highlight reel of Chu Yan. The strategy was to release them in a slow, steady stream, keeping the fans' anticipation high.
Inside the studio, Jiang Yue leaned back in his chair and looked at Su Qing.
“Keep a close eye on the taxes. We're a legitimate business now, and we can't afford to miss a single cent of tax.”
The calculator under Su Qing's fingers clicked rapidly. “Don't worry, Boss. I'd rather miscalculate Chen Fei's salary than get the tax bureau's numbers wrong.”
From behind his computer screen in the corner, Chen Fei poked his head out.
“Su Qing, be human for once!”
Jiang Yue shook his head and smiled as his phone buzzed.
It was a message from Cheng Songran, short and to the point.
Guanmu: 【Flying to Shancheng tomorrow afternoon. Pre-production is about to start. You and Kaiwen should just travel with me so you don't have to buy separate tickets.】
Jiang Yue replied with an "Okay," then stood up. “Plans have changed. Kaiwen and I are leaving tomorrow. The two of you keep an eye on things here at the studio. Call me if anything comes up.”
The next afternoon, Donghai Hongqiao Airport.
Dressed in a flashy, colorful casual outfit, Cheng Songran was leaning against a sofa in the VIP lounge scrolling through his phone. When he saw the two of them walk in, he raised his hand and waved.
The three of them boarded the plane together.
The plane landed at Jiangbei Airport in Shancheng.
Just as they stepped out of the arrivals gate, a black Toyota Alphard pulled up to the curb.
Cheng Songran slid the door open.
“Get in, get in.”
The car drove along overpasses and up winding slopes, eventually turning into a heavily secured villa district in Yubei District.
Jiang Kaiwen clung to the car window, staring at the detached villas nestled among the green trees halfway up the mountain, his throat involuntarily tightening.
The car stopped in front of a luxurious villa complete with a garden and a swimming pool.
Cheng Songran pushed the door open, got out, walked to the entrance, and pressed his finger against the biometric lock.
“We're here. Get out of the car.”
Holding his suitcase, Jiang Kaiwen stood at the entrance, not quite daring to step inside.
“Director Cheng, our crew... is staying here?”
Cheng Songran looked back, his expression suggesting this was the most natural thing in the world.
“Yeah, where else?”
“Our crew is poor and can't afford to rent a big hotel. Since this place is sitting empty anyway, you and Brother Yue can stay here to save on accommodation costs.”
Seriously?
Jiang Kaiwen cursed inwardly.
And this is called being poor?
“Director Cheng, this house...” Jiang Kaiwen asked tentatively.
“Oh, it's mine.”
Cheng Songran slipped into some slippers and pointed casually toward the second floor. “I bought it when I came to Shancheng to gather material for my novel. The thing is, I'm very picky about beds and can't sleep in hotels. I had no choice but to buy a place to make do.”
Jiang Kaiwen's brain almost short-circuited.
To avoid making do in a hotel, you bought a villa to make do instead?
This kind of humblebrag deserved its own dedicated gallery in the Palace of Versailles.
Jiang Kaiwen couldn't help but ask, “Are you from Shancheng?”
“No, I'm from the capital.”
Cheng Songran pulled a few bottles of water out of the refrigerator and tossed them over.
“But I also have a few places in Haicheng and Shencheng. Since I travel all over the place to write novels, I need to have a place to crash.”
Jiang Yue unscrewed his bottle cap, took a sip, and quickly accepted this reality.
Xu Pingqiu was right; this guy didn't really have any major flaws.
From the looks of it now, he was just disgustingly rich.
“The rooms are all tidied up, and the sheets have been washed.”
“Brother Yue, let's have hot pot tonight. We start work officially tomorrow, and I'll take you guys around.”
In the days that followed, Cheng Songran didn't take them to any tourist attractions.
Every day, as soon as the Alphard left the villa, it plunged into the old, labyrinthine neighborhoods of Shancheng.
Cheng Songran stood in front of an alley with freshly painted murals on its walls, holding his tablet, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper.
“When I was writing the script, what I pictured in my head was a damp, narrow alley with moss growing on the walls on both sides.”
He swiped through the old photos on his tablet, then looked up at the café in front of him.
“No, this isn't right.”
“I remember this place ended in a dead end, and there was an old electrical box on the wall that would spark on rainy days.”
“How did it get opened up now, and why is there an internet-famous café here?”
Jiang Kaiwen followed behind, carrying a large bag of mineral water, so exhausted he could barely stand up straight.
“Director Cheng, are we filming a movie or running an urban marathon?”
Cheng Songran didn't address him first. Instead, he turned to Jiang Yue, his eyes burning with creative passion. “Brother Yue, even though I wrote the script, textual imagination and cinematic language are two different things. I have to find the right visual medium to translate the suspenseful and oppressive atmosphere onto the screen.”
“What do you think?”
Jiang Yue looked in the direction he was pointing.
The densely packed buildings blocked out most of the sunlight, leaving scattered patches of light on the damp ground. The speakers of the nearby café were playing a lighthearted love song, while the aroma of hot pot drifted over from a restaurant at the end of the street.
“It could work.”
Jiang Yue nodded. “But the music from the café is too loud. It would ruin the sense of immersion.”
Cheng Songran crossed this location off his tablet and tapped on the next alternative.
“So we need to find an alternative spot.”
He turned and walked toward the entrance of the alley.
“Let's go. Next one, Shibati.”
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