Reborn in the Chinese Entertainment Industry: You're a Director, But You're a Casanova?

Mimi covered her nose in disgust, looking at the messy lunchbox.

Mr. Wang spoke again: "Last time we had dinner, I thought you were an upright and honest man, but now you've become like this. What's the difference between you and Director Zhang and Producer Li?"

Niu Yuehua was quite surprised at first, because he really didn't expect that President Wang would come, since this short film wasn't made for him.

Something's up. Last time, Boss Wang called those two bastards liars, but this time he's changed his tune and called them Director Zhang and Producer Li.

Niu Yuehua casually tossed an account book to General Manager Wang.

"Mr. Wang, please take a look at the accounts. The boxed lunches for filming these past few days were provided by the restaurants on the commercial street, the security guard uniforms were borrowed by Mr. Zhao, the filming locations were also provided by the school, and all the equipment was borrowed from them."

"The only accounts we keep now are for the two brothers' daily labor fee of 50 yuan. The 200 million yuan you gave me is still untouched, lying in our account earning interest without a penny missing."

Niu Yuehua then turned to look at Mimi, his tone becoming professional and pained.

"Sister Mimi, you exude the aura of a top-tier female lead in a commercial blockbuster."

"For such a short film, to be covered in dust in a basement playing a lowly security guard, how could we let you suffer such an ordeal? Your star power should be reserved for our 200 million dollar theatrical production!"

Upon hearing this, Mimi not only stopped being angry, but also felt that Director Niu was both sensible and considerate.

Mr. Wang was stunned. "Then why are you filming this free junk?"

Niu Yuehua smiled, invited President Wang to sit down, and then poured some of the good tea he had stolen from Tianzhuangzhuang with a touch of heartache.

"Mr. Wang, reputation is important in business."

"I'm just a freshman in college. If I took your 200 million yuan and went to make a big-budget film, which theater manager would know me? How much would they pay me for making the film?"

"But what if this cheap, low-budget short film could win a prize at a film festival?"

"Even if it's just a no-name award, when I go back to China I won't be a freshman anymore, I'll be called an international emerging director."

"If we shoot that 2 million blockbuster at this point, its valuation will increase tenfold."

"I've already come up with the marketing slogan: 'Internationally renowned director's commercial blockbuster.' I'm using a few hundred dollars to leverage your 2 million investment tenfold, Mr. Wang."

After listening to these words, Mr. Wang pondered for a moment.

"Wait a minute, bro, didn't you call those arthouse film makers liars at the dinner party?"

"You say audiences only like things that are exciting, but the stuff you're making now has no dialogue, no climax, isn't this the kind of pointless, whiny garbage you yourself criticized?"

Niu Yuehua burst into laughter, completely at ease.

"Mr. Wang, you are truly brilliant. Yes, you can treat it as a piece of boring garbage; you'll hate it, and the people of China will curse it too."

"But Mr. Wang, we're not making this for the general public; we're making it for those European judges who have nothing better to do."

"Those old white European men like to talk about this kind of pretentious talk about class and loneliness."

"To be honest, those scammers were planning to use your 1000 million to fulfill their own artistic dreams."

"I, on the other hand, spend a few hundred dollars to create a piece of fake art that conforms to European standards to win trophies. After winning the trophies and returning to China, we use this glittering veneer to fool domestic cinema managers and businessmen, and make commercial films that the public likes to watch to make money."

Mr. Wang was completely convinced by this unscrupulous capitalist logic of cross-border arbitrage and commercializing art.

Damn it, I finally understand what this means. This is the way of doing business that I'm familiar with.

Niu Yuehua struck while the iron was hot.

"Mr. Wang, actually my studio is called A&B."

"A stands for Art, and B stands for Business."

"But you have to understand, we need to sound good on the surface and not appear too mercenary, so when I registered, I named it Yixin Media, which means art and faith."

"In fact, 'A first, B later' means using art to build fame in order to reap commercial benefits."

Mr. Wang was finally relieved.

"Brother Yuehua, now I understand. I was also misled by the slander of a villain."

Niu Yuehua didn't press the matter further; instead, he changed the subject and said:

"Mr. Wang, that 200 million is the capital for making a blockbuster, and it can't be touched. But if this film is sent to Germany, we'll need travel expenses, translation fees, marketing and public relations fees for German media, and some bridge financing. You see... it'll cost at least 20."

With a wave of his hand, Mr. Wang readily pulled out a check.

"I'll give you 30, brother will invest."

Niu Yuehua smiled and immediately followed up.

"By the way, Mr. Wang, your timing is perfect. The short film needs a heavyweight, a charismatic boss, to make a cameo appearance at the end. How about you make a cameo appearance?"

Mr. Wang unexpectedly turned around and glanced at Mimi.

"Huh? Someone like me can act?"

……

One month later, Beijing Film Academy.

Over the past month, the controversy surrounding Niu Yuehua has finally subsided. The female students passing by no longer have to look at him with the eyes of someone who's a pervert.

After all, people in the world of fame and fortune aren't fools; they all know the true influence that guy has. But they still harbor resentment that Niu Yuehua didn't use students from his own school in the film.

In the department head's office, Xie Xiaojing excitedly burst through the door, holding a list of film festival nominees written entirely in German.

Upon hearing Niu Yuehua's name, Tian Zhuangzhuang, who was usually unfazed even by the collapse of Mount Tai, remained silent for a long time before cursing, "That little brat actually managed to get Berlin's door open with just two ragpickers. The younger generation is truly formidable."

After the news was confirmed, Professor Xie Fei, who had previously criticized Niu Yuehua for "playing on the edge of decency and being low-class," fell silent and even privately remarked that Niu Yuehua was no ordinary person.

On the other hand, things are really bad for Pigsy, or rather, Director Huang.

He was happily reading the day's newspaper when he discovered that the headline on the front page was that Niu Yuehua, a freshman at the Beijing Film Academy, had his short story "Wu Yi Wo Ren Sheng" shortlisted for the Berlin Film Festival, accompanied by a picture of Niu Yuehua's familiar yet irritating smiling face.

Holy crap! This kid isn't from the Shanghai Theatre Academy, he's from the Beijing Film Academy next door!

I, a dignified director at the Central Academy of Drama, was outmaneuvered by a freshman from a school I have a blood feud with.

Isn't this the same batch of equipment he extorted me from lending out last month?

I provided the equipment and did you a favor, and in the end, I helped your Beijing Film Academy students get a nomination for Berlin.

Director Huang was so angry that he was trembling all over. He immediately transformed into a desktop cleaning master, sweeping the teacup and folders onto the floor.

He initially considered going all out and reporting Niu Yuehua, but he realized with despair that Niu Yuehua was now a meritorious official of the Beijing Film Academy with a prestigious title protecting him, and Feng Gong was behind him. Not only could he not touch him, but his own weaknesses were also firmly in Feng Gong's hands.

Niu Yuehua, who was enjoying Liu Shishi's shoulder massage, Tang Yan's leg patting, and Liu Yifei feeding him grapes in his studio, suddenly felt a surge of immense, stifling negative emotions coming from the direction of the Central Academy of Drama. He shivered comfortably and was glared at with disdain by Liu Xiaoli.

……

airport.

Niu Yuehua was surrounded by reporters with their cameras and microphones. Huang Bo looked like a thug, and Wang Baoqiang looked like a bodyguard.

The reporters were somewhat skeptical; how could Berlin's sacred halls of fame accommodate this beggar's film crew?

An unnamed reporter nearly shoved the microphone into Niu Yuehua's mouth: "Director Niu, are you trying to convey some kind of Eastern philosophy to the world by taking these two unconventional actors to Berlin? Are you confident you'll win an award?"

Niu Yuehua stared at the camera, put on the most official smile, and then said the most arrogant thing.

"My trip to Berlin isn't for exchange or learning; it's just to win an award. I'll return home immediately afterward. Please prepare your press releases in advance to avoid any last-minute scrambling."