It's just that they have money.

Tell me about it.

Xu Wen didn't rush to speak. Instead, he took out his phone from his bag, quickly flipped through it a few times, and then turned the screen towards Fang Chen.

"This is the number of TV series registered last year, less than 500 in total. About 200 actually started filming, less than 50 were broadcast on satellite TV, and only about a dozen broke even."

"The situation is even worse for movies. Regardless of whether they can be shown in theaters, very few will be able to recoup their costs."

She looked into Fang Chen's eyes.

"The little money you have is so little that you won't even see a ripple."

Fang Chen was silent for a few seconds, then smiled.

"You previously said you didn't recommend going to the gym, and now you're saying you don't recommend working in film and television. So what do you recommend doing?"

Before Xu Wen could answer, Zhao Xiaole returned to the table.

"What are you talking about?" Zhao Xiaole plopped down, picked up a skewer of grilled kidneys, and took a bite.

"Let's talk about your dad," Fang Chen said casually.

Zhao Xiaole chewed on a kidney and mumbled, "What's there to talk about? It's meetings, social engagements, and film sets all the time. I'm exhausted. Let me tell you, what I admire most about my dad is that he can stick to one thing for thirty years. I would have gone crazy long ago."

Fang Chen smiled but didn't reply.

After several more rounds of drinks, the skewers on the table were almost gone, and the beer crates were mostly empty.

As Zhao Xiaole's drunkenness intensified, he suggested, "How about we go for a second round, buddy?"

Zhang Zhenghao was taken aback: "Still drinking?"

"What are you drinking for? It's so late." Zhao Xiaole said with a look of disgust. "I'll take you guys to a good place."

Xu Wen glanced at his phone, then stood up: "Boss, I'm going back now. We need to go over the contract details one more time."

"Okay, be careful on the road." Fang Chen nodded.

Zhao Xiaole watched her figure disappear through the door and clicked her tongue, "Your assistant is pretty aloof."

"She's a hard worker," Fang Chen said casually.

"Works diligently?" Zhao Xiaole chuckled twice. "Alright, whatever you say."

As they left the barbecue restaurant, the dry northern night wind swept over them, dispelling some of their drunkenness.

Zhao Xiaole hailed a taxi with practiced ease, plopped down in the passenger seat, and waved to Fang Chen and Zhang Zhenghao.

"Get in the car, I'm taking you to a proper place."

Zhang Zhenghao glanced at Fang Chen, who shrugged, opened the back door, and got in.

The taxi made several turns on the streets of Fengtian, and about twenty minutes later, it stopped in front of a brightly lit building.

The storefront isn't flashy, but the cars parked in the parking lot are all incredibly impressive.

Zhao Xiaole got out of the car and pointed to the entrance: "This is the best place in Fengtian, bar none."

Fang Chen looked up and saw that there was no signboard, only a door number.

Zhao Xiaole was clearly a regular customer. The receptionist at the door immediately put on a smile and bowed to invite him in when she saw his face.

The three were led into a spacious private room.

The private room has two massage beds, a tea table, a projector, and a small sauna.

"Soak first, then rub, and finally press."

As Zhao Xiaole took off his coat, he spoke in a tone that sounded like he was assigning a task.

"Having finished the formalities before having tea and chatting is what true enjoyment is all about."

As a southerner, Fang Chen had never been to a place like this before, but he didn't show any fear and followed Zhao Xiaole's lead.

Steam rose from the hot tub, and the three of them leaned against the edge, eyes closed, with a satisfied expression on their faces.

"Tell me about yourself," Zhao Xiaole said, picking up her teacup and blowing on it to cool it down. "What do you do for a living?"

"As I said before, I haven't been doing anything serious." Fang Chen picked up his teacup and took a sip.

"Where did you get your money?"

"Good luck."

"Just lucky?" Zhao Xiaole raised an eyebrow, clearly disbelieving. "Stock trading?"

"almost."

Zhao Xiaole glanced at him but didn't ask any further questions.

He changed the subject abruptly: "You know what? My dad recently got me a job."

"What kind of work?"

"Production crew supplier."

When Zhao Xiaole said those four words, his tone carried a complex emotion that was hard to describe as either disdain or pride.

"What exactly do you do?"

"We provide all sorts of things to the film crew: boxed meals, equipment, vehicles, accommodation, all sorts of things. Basically, whatever the film crew needs, we provide it."

Fang Chen's heart skipped a beat, but his face remained expressionless.

"How are the profits?" he asked.

"It depends on the size of the production crew." Zhao Xiaole counted on his fingers, "A large production crew, with several hundred people, shoots for two or three months, and the boxed meals alone cost hundreds of thousands. Add in equipment rental, vehicle dispatch, and hotel accommodation, and the total revenue can easily reach one or two million."

Zhang Zhenghao, who was listening nearby, couldn't help but ask, "How did you get this job?"

"It's because of my dad's connections. He's been in this industry for decades. He knows exactly who's starting a new movie or who needs suppliers. I'm just a laborer. He points me in the right direction, and I go and make the arrangements."

"So, how was your run?"

"It's alright. I don't earn much, but it's enough for me to live on," Zhao Xiaole said.

"Did you come to Fengtian this time also because of the film crew?" Fang Chen asked.

Zhao Xiaole nodded: "There's a film being shot here, so I came to see if there's anything I can provide. Boxed meals, vehicles, extras—anyone can provide these things, but whether you can provide them well is another matter."

"You even pay extras?"

Fang Chen was somewhat surprised.

"Why not supply them?" Zhao Xiaole laughed. "An extra earns 120 to 180 yuan a day. A film crew needs dozens or even hundreds of them, and filming lasts for dozens of days. Do the math, how much does that cost? Besides, there are no inventory costs for extras. As long as they show up, it's pure profit."

Fang Chen glanced at him.

On the surface, Zhao Xiaole appears to be a spoiled brat, but when it comes to business, his mind works very quickly.

What he said was not something an outsider could make up.

Seeing that Fang Chen wasn't speaking, Zhao Xiaole assumed he was daydreaming and waved her hand in front of him.

"What are you thinking about?"

Fang Chen smiled and said, "I've been thinking about what to do in the future, and your idea is a good one."

"Forget it, the crew is all in the same circle, it's okay if you can't do it."

"That's true." Fang Chen didn't continue the conversation and brought the topic back on track.

Zhao Xiaole leaned against the poolside, his face flushed from the heat. He closed his eyes, then suddenly changed the subject: "Let's talk about business tomorrow, let's get down to business."

Zhang Zhenghao opened one eye: "What's so serious?"

"Women," Zhao Xiaole said matter-of-factly.

Fang Chen didn't reply, but leaned against the pool with his eyes closed, though the corners of his mouth curved slightly.

This guy is easy to handle.

Zhao Xiaole thought he was listening attentively, so he perked up: "Let me tell you, the key to picking up girls is to cater to their preferences."

"Specifically?" Zhang Zhenghao asked.

"Specifically, you need to observe what she likes, dislikes, lacks, and fears. Once you understand these things, you'll know how to make your move."

Fang Chen opened his eyes, glanced at him, and suddenly asked, "So, if a girl has everything and doesn't want anything, how do you cater to her preferences?"

"Then let's find another one, don't put all your eggs in one basket."