I am a historical film director in the entertainment industry.

Chen Hong sometimes wondered what kind of monster Cheng Sheng was, that he could achieve in his 24th year what others could never achieve in their entire lives.

Previously, there were three so-called "Big Three" directors in China: Zhang Yimou, Feng Xiaogang, and Chen Kaige.

If we were to rank them, Zhang Guoshi would definitely be in first place, and as for second and third, everyone would subconsciously put Chen Kai last.

This is because Chen Kaige really doesn't have any representative works besides "Farewell My Concubine," and his career has only gotten worse.

Chen Kaige was very dissatisfied with this ranking.

Moreover, what he resented most was being ranked behind Zhang Guoshi.

Chen Kaige, who comes from a family of directors, looks down on Zhang Guoshi, who rose from humble beginnings to success.

Just like the chief director of this Olympic Games election.

Chen Kai's demeanor clearly indicated that he was the boss, with a playful and smug smile on his face. He even recited a poem at the election site.

Can you imagine?
While others were presenting their plans and ideas, he leisurely recited poetry, his smug and self-satisfied demeanor making him seem like he had the victory in the bag.

And the result? Before he could finish reciting a poem or even present his proposal, he was eliminated.

This is so incredibly embarrassing!
The atmosphere at the scene became strange. The organizing committee bluntly stated that this was a multi-billion dollar project, and what they needed were concrete ideas; the poets should be left to the writers.

How blunt? How hurtful?!

This scene is ironic no matter how you look at it.

Chen Kai was furious, which was only natural—in his eyes, Zhang Guoshi was not just a simple underling.

In his view, Zhang Guoshi was just his subordinate carrying the camera, which sounded really harsh.

With his family background, Director Chen, who grew up in a family of actors, benefited from the influence of big-name directors since childhood. It was as if he grew up making movies on air, making him a kind of aristocratic blood in that circle.

And Zhang Guoshi?

Needless to say, he was practically a nobody—from humble beginnings, an unknown assistant who, through sheer hard work, made it onto the international stage with the film "Red Sorghum," and the Berlin Film Festival's grand prize was within his grasp.

This was supposed to be an inspirational story, but interestingly, Chen Kaige never shut his mouth.

When I heard that Zhang Yimou won the award, Director Chen's reaction was—a cold snort and sarcasm.

If you count on your fingers, wasn't I someone else's boss back then?
The insults were really harsh; it was almost a display of defiance and refusal to accept one's fate.

But you know, the ever-changing entertainment industry isn't just about words; a few classic films are the real proof.

"Farewell My Concubine" is indeed Chen Kaige's masterpiece and his unshakeable directorial achievement.

But after that?
The second "Farewell My Concubine" that he had been looking forward to never came out, and his fame gradually declined.

In contrast, Zhang Guoshi's works, such as "To Live," "The Story of Qiu Ju," and "Raise the Red Lantern," have garnered solid audience acclaim and market recognition.

Their strength is undeniable; everyone has to think twice before speaking.

This election defeat was like a wake-up call, completely shattering Chen Kaige's arrogance.

Can you imagine?
Despite secretly regarding Zhang Guoshi as a junior, he ultimately rose to the top and took the reins as director of the Olympic opening ceremony.

That taste must be even more bitter than coffee.

Yang Mi foolishly provoked Chen Kaige while drunk, which is why Chen Hong stood up to blacklist her.

Competitions within the industry are often not just about the quality of the work; they are more like a psychological battle and an endurance race.

Chen Kaige was clearly careless and underestimated his opponent this time. To say that his act of reciting poetry was either aloof or arrogant, is an overstatement. After all, with a multi-billion dollar project and the opponent already poised for action, you can't just use a poetry scroll to get by, no matter if you're a big director or a big boss!

To be honest, Chen Kaige's reasoning wasn't entirely without merit.

That's the inheritance of family glory. With a background and capital, who wouldn't be envious?
But his arrogant attitude and disdain for others' hard work is really disgusting.

Even a genius cannot suppress newcomers based on their status and past works, especially in the increasingly competitive entertainment industry.

The entertainment industry is a cruel and real world.

Just because you were born into a noble family doesn't mean you can always be high above others; just because you made a classic film doesn't mean you can be revered as a legend for life.

You must constantly update yourself, work hard and diligently to win the recognition of the audience and the market.

The story of Zhang Guoshi is a legend filled with mud and sweat. He climbed to the top step by step on his own, and the perseverance and hard work behind it are enough to make many people feel awe.

Zhang Guoshi lets his works speak for themselves, showcasing his own grassroots spirit and carving out a niche for himself amidst the turbulent waves; Chen Kaige, on the other hand, relies on his background and past, only to be severely slapped in the face by that poem, ultimately failing and blaming himself for his defeat.

This is the survival rule in the entertainment industry—talent reigns supreme, and no one can stop it.

Those who become complacent and arrogant will not have the last laugh; just as the wind blows away the clouds, everything will eventually return to normalcy.

After all, the most taboo thing in the entertainment industry is complacency.

"Congratulations! Your company has made the most money in the film and television industry this year. I don't know how many of your peers are envious," Chen Hong said with a smile.

The profitability issues of Shengli Film Company had already spread within the industry after the year-end meeting.

A profit of over 3 billion is astonishing to anyone who sees it.

Keep in mind that even a conglomerate worth hundreds of billions may not necessarily have an annual profit of three billion.

Cheng Sheng's company, which was established less than two years ago, actually surpassed the 100 billion yuan group in annual revenue.

People in the film and television industry were green with envy when they found out.

"Let's skip the pleasantries, Sister Hong. You should just tell me your purpose," Cheng Sheng said calmly.

“Alright, Sister Hong isn’t one to nag. You know what my husband’s situation is lately. He’s planning to ask you to write a script, but he’s too embarrassed to ask, so I’m the one who has to come to you,” Chen Hong said.

"You want me to write a screenplay?"

Cheng Sheng was stunned.

Chen Kai asked me to write a script.

He wouldn't have believed it at all if Chen Hong hadn't spoken up.

How could someone as arrogant as Chen Kaige possibly ask him to write a script?
Although Cheng Sheng had little contact with Chen Kaige, he was still very clear about Chen Kaige's personality.

Very self-centered.

He never takes anyone seriously.

Even if he is wrong, he will always shift the blame to others.

“Yes, he’s always complaining about the lack of good screenwriters, but Brother Kai really likes your script. He always praises it to me, saying it’s perfect. He says he could win all three major European awards if he had your script,” Chen Hong said with a smile.

Upon hearing this, Cheng Sheng's lips twitched slightly.

Does Chen Kaige ever praise himself?
Does he really think I don't know his personality?! (End of Chapter)