This producer has no bottom line.

(Dear readers, because the plot has been revised, chapters starting from chapter 15 have been modified from the initial version. Chapters 15, 16, and 17 have already been revised, and I will try my best to finish revising them all tonight. What I am posting now is the previous version of the draft. You can wait until tomorrow to read the revised version. I will indicate it in the chapter titles for your convenience. Thank you.)

At 8 PM on October 15th, "Unexpectedly: The Swordsman's Romance" was launched on time.

Sohu Video gave it a banner spot on the homepage, while the official website of JX3 went even further, replacing the login screen, pop-ups, and homepage carousel with promotional images for the short drama.

The game was launched simultaneously on two platforms. Within 48 hours of its release, the number of views on the platform exceeded 1.2 million, and the number of new registered users driven by the official website of JX3 approached 20,000.

Ren Pingsheng didn't keep an eye on the backstage.

On the 15th and 16th, he devoted all his energy to another thing—cleaning up his computer.

These weren't signs of destruction before the company absconded; rather, they were categorized and archived. Files from Sohu went into Sohu's directory, and personal files went into personal files. Each folder was clearly labeled and had detailed notes.

The original contracts were arranged chronologically, the customer contact list was updated with every communication record in the remarks column, and even the file names were renamed uniformly.

This job was even more grueling than editing ten episodes of a film, but he did it with extreme care.

Because he knew that someone would soon come and rummage through the drawers.

At 9:07 AM on October 16th, a mass email popped up in my inbox.

From: Alex. To: All members of the Innovation Team. CC: Deng Ye, Human Resources Department.

Subject: Arrangements for data handover during the transition period of the content center.

The email was quite long. The first paragraph thanked the innovation team for their hard work and outstanding contributions over the past six months. The second paragraph explained the strategic significance and long-term plans for the group's integration of content modules, worded with the precision of a speech. The third paragraph finally appeared, unhurriedly—

"By October 31st, the Innovation Team is requested to archive and back up all project-related materials, engineering source files, business contract texts, client contact files, and relevant financial documents to the Content Center's shared folder. All colleagues are requested to cooperate actively to ensure a smooth and orderly transition."

The letter ended with the sentence: "If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me."

After reading the email, Xiao Lin's hand, which had been resting on the mouse, remained frozen for a long time. He didn't dare turn his head to look at Ren Pingsheng, but he couldn't help glancing over there out of the corner of his eye.

Sister Zhao took off her reading glasses, her lips tightened into a line, and her fingers unconsciously picked at the scratch on the edge of the table.

Luo Hongming and Liu Hao weren't in the official employees' email group, so they didn't receive the email. But the sudden silence in the office was more direct than any email. Luo Hongming's fingers hovered over the keyboard. He'd only been with Sohu for less than two months and didn't understand the intricacies of company politics, but he could read Ren Pingsheng's face.

There was no fluctuation at all.

"Pay what you owe," Ren Pingsheng said without looking up, "Do as he asks."

Kobayashi finally turned around. "Hand it all over?"

"Organize the contracts, documents, materials, and contact lists, and put them into the shared drive."

"But after handing over these things, Alex could simply—"

"What can?" Ren Pingsheng glanced at him. "These things are originally for searching."

Xiaolin swallowed the rest of his sentence.

Sister Zhao glanced at Ren Pingsheng for two seconds, put her reading glasses back on, and remained silent. She had worked at Sohu for eight years and had witnessed all sorts of ways people left. There were two kinds of people who said, "It was originally part of the company," either they had accepted their fate, or they had never intended to take any of these things in the first place.

She felt that Ren Pingsheng was the latter.

"Sister Zhao, have you made arrangements for the 10:30 interview?"

"It's arranged, the small conference room in Area A."

At 10:40, a boy pushed the door open and came in. He had a buzz cut, single eyelids, a canvas bag that looked like it was about to burst under his left arm, and a DV camera with its body wrapped in black tape several times in his right hand.

Wang Cong, 23 years old, from Shijiazhuang. He arrived in Yanjing by bus three days ago, and his trousers still had specks of yellow mud from the highway service area stuck to them.

The last job on my resume was at a wedding planning company in my hometown. I worked there for half a year, filmed 300 weddings, brought my own DV camera, and the boss paid me 200 yuan per wedding.

Ren Pingsheng didn't look at the resume. There was only one thing on the resume that made him make an appointment with this person—a three-minute short video in the attachment.

Handheld camera, a lane in the old city of Shijiazhuang, 6:30 in the morning. People selling sesame cakes, walking their dogs, rushing to catch the bus, no dialogue, no background music. The camera is shaky, the white balance is off, and the focus is occasionally off.

But Ren Pingsheng read it twice.

Because there's something about that shot; it always arrives ahead of time. The old man selling pancakes reaches out for money, and the camera moves faster than his hand. The young man on a bicycle stares at a stray dog, and the camera moves faster than their eyes.

What can be taught is called skill; what cannot be taught is called intuition.

"What are you most afraid of when shooting weddings?" Ren Pingsheng asked.

Wang Cong placed the DV camera on the table and thought for a moment. "I'm afraid the bride will cry. You don't know when she'll cry, but you have to film it."

"How was it resolved?"

"Later I came up with a clumsy method: I didn't look at her face, but at her hands. When her hands started to shake, I would zoom in on the camera, and I could get it right eight out of ten times."

Ren Pingsheng stood up.

"Start work next Monday. Monthly salary is 3,000 yuan. There is a one-month probation period."

Wang Cong was stunned for a moment, then nodded vigorously after realizing what was happening, the canvas bag strap almost slipping off his shoulder.

The last piece of the puzzle has arrived.

After Wang Cong left, Luo Hongming brought over a glass of water and placed it on Ren Pingsheng's table.

"Brother Pingsheng".

"Um."

"Sister Zhao and Xiao Lin looked grumpy the whole time they were organizing the files."

"That's normal; it wouldn't look good on anyone."

"And what about you?"

Ren Pingsheng took the water and drank a sip. "What's wrong with me? I'll be relieved to hand over the stuff."

Luo Hongming didn't say anything more and went back to his workstation.

At noon, Dapeng called.

"The price has been lowered in Jinan; it's 35."

It's five points higher than the bottom line given by Ren Pingsheng, but there's no rush.

When will his money arrive?

"Payment will be made within one week of signing the contract, in two installments of three million."

"Don't sign yet."

There was a two-second pause on the other end of the phone.

"You're making me wait again?" Da Peng's tone turned angry. "Ren Pingsheng, are you doing this on purpose? People are practically offering money to you—"

"Wait for another message. Once it arrives, you can negotiate the price down by another five to ten percentage points."

"Every time you say 'trust me,' it's followed by an even more outrageous request."

"So, when have you ever lost out after believing something?"

I could hear him munching on an apple on the other end of the phone; Da Peng eats whenever he gets agitated.

"Three days, I'll give you three more days at most."

That's enough.

Ren Pingsheng hung up the phone and placed it on the table.

A three million angel round, offering 35%—the numbers aren't bad. But having an additional investor's advance payment means the company has revenue even before registration. Having orders in hand versus negotiating empty-handed gives you completely different confidence.

The difference of five to ten points lies in this time lag.

I refreshed my email, and a new email was at the top of my inbox.

There was no mass mailing or copying; it was a one-to-one, targeted delivery.

From: Chen [email protected]

Company: Perfect World

Subject: Initial Communication Regarding Content Collaboration

The email body was short, and the wording was polite but not roundabout.

The gist of the message is that they have noticed the original short drama content recently launched by Sohu Video, are very interested in the cooperation model, and hope to arrange a time to discuss it in person.

The signature is followed by the mobile phone number and landline extension number.

Perfect World, the publisher of Jade Dynasty 2.

The company that had Zhou Xun film GG, Lin Xi write the theme song, and pointed to the poster at the meeting saying, "Tianlong has already lost, our opponent is Jianwang 3."

Their people proactively sent an email.

But Ren Pingsheng wasn't fixated on the name Chen Lin.

He wondered whether the marketing department had acted on its own initiative or whether Tenghe had given it his approval.