It's just that they have money.

The procedures for equity transfer are more complicated than I imagined.

Fang Chen thought that signing the contract and making the payment would be the end of it, but the process of changing the business registration, tax registration, and bank account name took three whole days.

This is thanks to the high efficiency of Xuwen.

Fortunately, Zhou Yaoguang cooperated.

Although this person isn't very good at business, he's been in the industry for over a decade and knows exactly who he should know and what procedures he should follow.

He spent two days running around with Xu Wen to sort out all the procedures, and on the last day, he sat in the office waiting for the license.

During this period, Fang Chen acquired all the copyrighted IPs in the company.

There are several stacks of scripts that have already been filmed or have just been approved. Some of the covers are already curled up, while others are still printed drafts with dense annotations in red pen.

There are five projects that haven't been officially approved yet: three are novel adaptations and two are original screenplays.

Two are suspenseful, and three are urban romance dramas. They are all short, but the relationships between the characters and the plot twists are all very well done.

Fang Chen casually flipped open a book, read a few pages, and frowned slightly.

"Who wrote this?"

"It was written by the scriptwriting team last year, but it wasn't made into a film." Gao Jie, the company's production manager, walked over, glanced at the cover, and said, "The script is good, but the subject matter is a bit sensitive, so the platform doesn't dare to take it on."

Fang Chen put down the script without saying anything.

He walked to the creative department and sat down, turning his chair around to face the empty workstations.

Gao Jie stood across the desk, waiting for Fang Chen to speak.

She has been a long-time employee of this company for nearly six years, since Zhou Yaoguang started his business. She rose from an administrative staff member to a production manager, experiencing the company's most glorious period and also weathering the most difficult two years together.

When Zhou Yaoguang left, he talked to her once and asked if she wanted to stay. She said she would see what the new boss was like first, and then decide.

"Why aren't we filming these scripts?" Fang Chen pushed the stack of scripts onto the table.

"Money," Gao Jie said bluntly. "The company's cash flow was already very tight last year. President Zhou invested the last bit of money in two web series. One broke even, but the other flopped. After that, there was no money left, and these scripts have just been sitting there."

Which topics are sensitive?

Gao Jie pulled out the script that Fang Chen had just been looking at. The cover was titled "The Silent Witness," and the word "suspense" was marked in pencil next to it.

"This involves juvenile delinquency. Although the ultimate goal is justice, the content of some of the earlier scenes is quite sensitive."

Fang Chen opened the script and read a few more pages.

It is indeed boldly written; the characters' lines and situations convey a sense of oppressive suffocation.

"The notebook is nice."

"It's good, but it's hard to sell."

Fang Chen tossed the script aside and changed the subject: "How many people are left in the company?"

"Seven of us, including me." Gao Jie's tone was flat. "Two from the production team, three from the screenwriting team, and one from the administration team plus me. Everyone else has left."

"Which area did they all go to?"

"Marketing, distribution, and finance," Gao Jie said. "These areas were already weak. President Zhou used to handle everything himself and didn't have any dedicated staff. The finance department was outsourced, the marketing department disbanded last year, and there was only one person in distribution who just left last month."

Fang Chen nodded.

Rebuilding these departments wouldn't cost much.

"You stay, and your salary will double."

Gao Jie's expression changed slightly, but she quickly regained her composure.

She looked at Fang Chen, paused for two seconds, and then said, "Mr. Fang, I'm not staying because of the money. I've worked at Yinghuo for six years; this company is like my second child. If Mr. Zhou wants to sell, I won't stop him. But if the new boss can't create content, I won't stay."

Fang Chen wasn't angry after hearing this; instead, he smiled.

"Has Zhou Yaoguang said any of these things to you?"

"What did you say?"

"People who create content ultimately die because of money," Fang Chen said. "Those without money can't make films even if they want to, and those with money produce films that are no good for people to watch."

"And I have both money and the desire to create content."

Gao Jie paused for a moment, as if she wanted to laugh but held it back.

"Okay, I'll stay."

"Then please compile a list of the screenwriting and production teams for me, noting who is good at what and what resources they have. Give it to me in the next couple of days."

"it is good."

The company's core assets are not the few web series that have already been filmed, nor the cash in the account, but the three people in the screenwriting team.

All three are writers of urban romance and suspense novels. Two of them had previously written outlines for the platform. Although they were not credited independently, people in the industry knew who did the work.

The two people in the production team, one in charge of external liaison and the other in charge of preparation, are both practically trained by working on set.

Gao Jie's evaluation is: She has worked with General Manager Zhou for several years, is familiar with the processes, can endure hardship, and basically makes no mistakes.

However, the company lacks a core creative engine.

What Fang Chen needs is an actor who can act seriously even in a terrible film crew.

After selling the company, Zhou Yaoguang did not disappear immediately.

Fang Chen still needed his connections in the industry, so he took the initiative to treat him to a meal.

"Mr. Zhou, I have something I'd like to ask you."

"Mr. Fang said."

"I'm looking for someone." Fang Chen showed Zhou Yaoguang a photo of the supporting actor he had seen on set that day. "It's this guy. The photo isn't very clear, but see if you can find him."

Zhou Yaoguang paused, holding his wine glass, and looked up at him.

"Mr. Fang, are you thinking of signing someone?"

"right."

"What's the point of signing?"

"It's for filming," Fang Chen said matter-of-factly.

Zhou Yaoguang put down his wine glass, and the way he looked at him changed.

He has been in this industry for over twenty years and has met countless bosses who want to promote their clients. Nine out of ten of them are after actresses, and the remaining one is trying to promote their own child.

It's rare to see someone like Fang Chen looking for an unknown male actor.

Does he have homosexual tendencies?

Send me the photo, I'll give it a try.

The next afternoon, Fang Chen met Tong Jun at a teahouse.

Tong Jun looked thinner than in the photos, with more prominent cheekbones. He was wearing a faded dark blue sweatshirt and old sneakers that were so worn that their original color was unrecognizable.

He walked in slowly, his gaze sweeping around the teahouse before settling on Fang Chen. Then he walked over and nodded slightly.

"Mr. Fang."

"Teacher Tong, please sit down."

Tong Jun sat down opposite him, and the waiter brought over a pot of Tieguanyin tea.

He didn't rush to pour tea, nor did he speak; he just sat quietly, waiting for Fang Chen to speak first.

I want to sign you.

Tong Jun remained silent for a long time before asking, "President Fang, when you sign me, do you want to sign an actor, or a compliant tool?"

Fang Chen was amused by his question.

"Actors," Fang Chen said, "it's okay if you don't listen, as long as you act seriously and act well."