I entered Huayu Entertainment in 2016.

The two of them finished their feast in a lively and cheerful manner.

When it was time to pay the bill, Zhang Ruonan glanced at it without any change in expression. Only after the waiter left did she mutter quietly, "This steak is much worse than the one near the school, and it's so expensive!"

By the time I left the restaurant, it was completely dark.

Zhang Ruonan opened the car door, got into the driver's seat, rolled down the window, and waved to him. Her words, "I'm leaving," were carried away by the night wind on the street.

Then she drove off in that blue BMW without looking back.

The taillights flashed twice in the night before disappearing around the corner.

Wang Zian returned to the hotel, took a shower, and lay down on the bed.

The air conditioner was humming as he picked up his phone and opened WeChat.

Zhou Ye posted two messages: one was a picture of the sweet and sour pork ribs she ate at the school cafeteria that night, captioned "Missing my mom's cooking"; the other was a picture of her sister forcing her to do her homework.

He replied to each one, his tone as casual as if he were chatting with her face to face.

Liu Haocun's WeChat Moments had one more update tonight.

It's a photo of her rehearsing in the practice room today—wearing a white practice uniform, her hair piled high, stretching her legs in front of the mirror, with the caption "Fighting with this leg every day."

Wang Zian gave it a thumbs up, closed WeChat, placed his phone on the bedside table, and closed his eyes peacefully.

The next morning, his phone rang as if someone was using his ear as a drum.

Wang Zian stretched a hand out from under the covers, reached for his phone, and glanced at the caller ID.

It's Chen Wu, that clingy guy who's got nothing better to do.

"Hey!" Wang Zian's voice was hoarse, filled with a strong sense of morning grumpiness; "Do you even know what time it is?"

"8:30! Don't you have a time on your phone?"

That bastard Chen Wu is at it again, pretending to be innocent and honest. He's got the best of the worst sarcastic stuff.

Wang Zian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Get to the point, or I'm hanging up."

Knowing that his success had spurred Wang Zi'an on, Chen Wu's lips curled into a smug smile.

"I'm on the top floor of the hotel. Don't rush off after the writers' gathering at noon today; we'll have a short meeting!"

"Who's there? Don't tell me you're alone!" Wang Zian was fully awake, and his brain started working.

"Sun Zhonghuai and a few people from Yuewen!"

Prince An was fully awake.

He opened his eyes, sat up in bed, and stepped barefoot onto the carpet, his mind racing.

Sun Zhonghuai is the head of Tencent Pictures, and the heads of several departments are also there.

This lineup isn't something you can just casually chat over tea.

He tucked his phone between his ear and shoulder, pulled a clean T-shirt from his suitcase, and put it on, asking as he did so, "What time does it start?"

"7 PM~!"

"You started calling at 7 PM?!" Wang Zian yelled angrily, "Are you that arrogant?!"

After saying that, he hung up the phone without waiting for Chen Wu to refute him.

····

After cursing Chen Wu for disturbing his sleep several times in his mind, Wang Zian couldn't fall asleep at all.

I picked up my phone and chatted with Zhou Ye for a while.

"Why are you up so early on the weekend? I'm having tutoring. My math teacher has been talking for half an hour. I'm about to die." This was followed by an emoji of someone slumped over a table with smoke coming out of their head.

After hearing her complain about her weekend tutoring classes again, Wang Zian felt much calmer.

After getting up and tidying himself up, Wang Zian went to the restaurant on the third floor.

Although Yuhang is a desert, breakfast is usually not a bad choice. Soy milk, fried dough sticks, fried eggs, bacon, and bread are still very common.

After a simple and satisfying meal, Wang Zian arrived at the conference room.

The corridor leading to the conference room was cordoned off with police tape from a distance, and several security guards wearing name tags stood on both sides, politely reaching out to check anyone who approached.

Wang Zian dutifully checked his ticket, scanned the QR code on the invitation on the machine, and entered the venue.

The venue was much larger than he had imagined. The lecture hall, which could accommodate four or five hundred people, was filled with rows of dark blue chairs with name tags on the backs.

A poster flashed on the huge LED screen directly opposite – “Penguin Literature Group Film and Television Strategy Seminar”, the font gleaming gold.

Sponsor banners were displayed on both sides of the stage, and coffee and snacks were already laid out on the tea table in front.

Wang Zian's alternate account is one of Yuewen's platinum-level authors.

His seat was very close to the front, in the first row; next to him were Cat and Elbow.

That seat was directly opposite the spotlight in the center of the stage, making it one of the most prominent seats in the entire venue.

Wang Zian decisively gave up, randomly found a corner without name tags, plopped down there, and waited for the meeting to begin.

Sitting next to me were several photojournalists from some unknown media outlet, engrossed in eating cookies.

Before long, authors from all walks of life began to enter the venue.

There are authors who have written millions of words but never finished, "dog authors" who have published three books but none of them are finished, and "kings of the volume" who consistently write 10,000 words a day without fail.

Wang Zian saw many experts, who were chatting and laughing, gathered in twos and threes.

He was wearing a mask, and no one recognized him.

About five minutes later, the voices at the front of the conference room suddenly dropped a notch.

Chen Wu and his entourage filed in through the side door, dressed in dark suits and light-colored shirts, walking at a leisurely pace, followed by several secretaries and assistants.

He was dressed much more formally than usual today, with the standard business smile on his face, nodding and shaking hands with each guest.

The leaders sat down side by side in the seats with nameplates.

The murmurs from the audience gradually subsided, the lights dimmed, and the poster on the large screen switched to the main visual for the formal meeting; the meeting began.

Like any other meeting of its kind, the first thing that happened was that several people in charge took turns going on stage and reading from prepared notes about the industry outlook, policy background, and corporate vision.

Wang Zian felt a chill run down his spine, and the photographers next to him secretly yawned.

Finally, it was Chen Wu's turn to speak, and thankfully he spoke in a human voice.

When he took the microphone, he didn't bring any notes. He walked to the center of the podium, unbuttoned one of his suit jacket buttons, and stepped out of his previous stiff and formal posture.

He didn't read out data or show slides; he simply adjusted the microphone to his mouth and began speaking at his normal pace.

"We at Tencent Pictures will join hands with Yuewen Group to respond to the national strategy for cultural prosperity, create a number of high-quality IPs, and provide all users with high-quality and satisfying film and television works to enrich people's leisure time."

"Simply put, we will select a number of high-quality IPs from the novel library under Yuewen Group and join hands with outstanding production teams in the industry to produce film and television dramas."

At this point, Chen Wu began to introduce the middle-aged men sitting with him.

"These people next to me are Mr. Liu, the head of Huace Film & Television Department; Mr. Hou, the general manager of Dongyang Noon Sunshine; Mr. Sun, the general manager of Xinli Media; Ningmeng Film & Television... Huanrui... "

The person whose name is called stands up, either smiling and nodding or raising their hand in greeting.

Upon hearing this, Wang Zian raised his head and began to scrutinize those people.

Chen Wu is also a very shrewd person. He started with the TV drama field and chose production companies with successful cases in the industry. He also did not invite people from certain circles.

But looking at that row of people, Wang Zian felt that these internet elites were probably one in ten when it came to technology and strategy.

When it comes to being tricked by seasoned veterans in the film and television industry, they're probably still at a kindergarten level.

After Chen Wu finished speaking, he handed the microphone to Mr. Liu, whom he had just introduced.

The man took the microphone, stood up, first thanked President Chen for his affirmation, and then said a long string of beautiful words about the content ecosystem and IP value. Every sentence was flawless, but none of them made any real promises.

The people next to him nodded and smiled, talking together about a bright future.

Wang Zian's lips twitched slightly, and he thought to himself: Penguin is probably just a sucker in their eyes, "rich, easy, and easy to fool," probably like looking at an unlocked ATM.

Next, Chen Wu invited many platinum-level authors to the stage.

When Mao Ni was called upon, he stood up, straightened his collar, walked from the first row onto the stage, took the microphone from the side, adjusted his glasses, and said a few polite words about the expectations of creators—appropriate and thoughtful.

Even from across the venue, you could see the barely suppressed excitement on Wang Zian's face, the kind that screamed, "My IP is finally going to be big."