We asked you to make an anti-corruption film, but you made one in the name of the people!

After the Lunar New Year, Lin Mo's life slowed down completely.

How slow? He arrives at the office at nine o'clock every morning, makes a cup of tea, turns on his computer, and looks at the propaganda bureau's work briefing.

The briefing is usually three to five pages long, and he finishes reading it in ten minutes.

and then?

Then there is no more.

After "The Storm" finished airing, Zhang Hao could handle "Police and People Together" on his own. Sun Jianguo was in charge of the daily operations of the Publicity Bureau of the Ministry of Public Security. As a deputy director on temporary assignment, he could have things to do, but he really had nothing to do either.

So much free time.

But it doesn't feel bad either.

Although he had plenty of free time, Lin Mo wasn't completely idle.

Han Jianu revised the script for "Dying to Survive" five or six times.

Each time she finished making changes, she would send them to him and Wen Muye. The three of them would create a WeChat group called "Medicine God Small Group," and the profile picture would be a photo of a medicine bottle—chosen by Han Jia.

Lin Mo wanted to laugh every time he saw this group name, but he didn't say anything.

That afternoon, Han Jianu sent another PDF to the group.

"Director Lin, Director Wen, this is the eighth draft. This time the changes are quite significant. The main character's arc has been completely redesigned. Please take a look."

Lin Mo downloaded the file, made a cup of tea, leaned back on the sofa, and began to read it.

The eighth draft was indeed much better than the previous ones.

The protagonist Cheng Yong's appearance has been changed to be more down-to-earth—a greasy middle-aged man who runs a struggling health product store, whose wife has divorced him, whose son lives with his ex-wife, and whose elderly father lives in a nursing home waiting for money to save his life.

He's not a good person, nor does he want to be one; he's just been forced into a corner by life.

Han Jianu made a particularly good change to a detail in this script—when Cheng Yong first went to India to buy medicine, he didn't go with a sense of righteous indignation; he did the math and figured he could make money, which is the right thing to do.

Wen Muye replied in the group chat with a long message, clearly very excited: "Jia Nu, this version is amazing!! Cheng Yong's storyline is completely solid! I was so excited after watching it last night that I couldn't sleep!"

After watching it, Lin Mo posted a message in the group: "This version is very good. The protagonist's arc, the supporting characters' roles, and the rhythm of the story are all well done. I would like to point out two minor issues: Lu Shouyi's first appearance could have some details added, and Huang Mao's lines could be reduced. The fewer lines this character speaks, the more powerful he becomes."

Han Jianu replied: "Received! Director Lin, you're absolutely right. I'll add that detail about Lü Shouyi as soon as I get back!"

Wen Muye replied, "I also think the blond guy has too many lines. I'll go find Jia Nu and confront her tomorrow."

Lin Mo smiled as he looked at the replies from the two people in the group chat and put his phone down.

More than an hour later, Wen Muye sent him a private message.

"Director Lin, there's something I'd like to hear your opinion on."

"explain."

"I have a few candidates in mind for the role of Cheng Yong, but I can't make up my mind. Who do you think is suitable?"

Lin Mo leaned back on the sofa, and images from her past life flashed through her mind.

Xu Zheng – small eyes, round face, smiles like a cunning businessman, cries so hard the whole movie theater can cry along with him. His transition from a comedic actor to a realist is a bigger and more stable step than anyone else's.

But he didn't say his name directly.

"Tell me who you think is the best candidate."

"The first choice is Xu Zheng, the one who acts in comedies, you should know him. The second choice is Deng Chao, and the third choice is Huang Bo."

Lin Mo smiled.

Fumino has a sharp eye.

All three of them could play Cheng Yong, but Xu Zheng is the most suitable.

Who do you think is the most suitable?

Wen Muye typed for a while and replied: "Xu Zheng, I think he is the most suitable. He has a special quality - he can be a small person. Deng Chao is too handsome, the audience will not believe that he is desperate. Huang Bo's acting skills are fine, but he has a ruthless streak. Cheng Yong is not ruthless in the early stage, he is cowardly. Xu Zheng himself has that kind of - how to say it - being ground down by life, but still not accepting it.

"Your judgment is correct," Lin Mo replied. "Find Xu Zheng, but there's one thing—don't tell him this is a transitional work. Tell him it's a good story that needs a good actor."

Fumino replied instantly: "Understood!"

......

On the first weekend of March, Han Jia and Lin Mo met at a coffee shop near the Central Motion Picture Corporation.

This coffee shop is tucked away on the ground floor of an office building. The storefront is small, but the interior is quite spacious.

The lighting was warm yellow, the walls were covered with old movie posters, and the blackboard behind the bar had the words "Today's Coffee" written in chalk: Americano 18 yuan, latte 22 yuan, cheaper than outside.

When Lin Mo arrived, Han Jianu and Wen Muye were already seated.

The two sat facing each other in a booth by the window, with a table full of scripts and storyboard drafts spread out between them.

Han Jianu had a latte in front of her, while Wen Muye had nothing in front of him and was drawing something on a piece of paper with a pen.

"Director Lin!" Han Jia waved to him when she saw him.

Lin Mo walked over and sat down. The waiter came over and asked what he would like to drink. He ordered an Americano.

"Director Lin, take a look at this." Wen Muye pushed the paper in his hand over. It was a storyboard sketch. It wasn't very professionally drawn, but the meaning was clear—Cheng Yong was standing on the streets of India, surrounded by colorful medicines and bustling crowds. His expression was a little blank, but also a little excited.

"I want to use a long take for this shot," Wen Muye said, his tone a little excited but trying to restrain himself. "The camera follows Cheng Yong through the streets, from the dilapidated residential area to the pharmaceutical wholesale market, without cutting in between. From the initial unfamiliarity and tension to becoming more and more skilled, the audience goes through this process with him."

Lin Mo picked up the storyboard, looked at it, and nodded: "The direction is right, but there's a problem—have you secured the filming permit from India?"

Wen Muye's smile froze for a moment: "Not yet, China Film Group is in contact, they said there shouldn't be any major problems."

"Just because it's not a big problem doesn't mean there isn't one." Lin Mo took a sip of his Americano. "You know how efficient they are in India. You need to get all the paperwork done a month in advance, otherwise they'll find out on set that filming isn't allowed, and the whole crew will just be waiting around doing nothing."

Wen Muye quickly took out his phone to record.

Han Jianu chimed in from the side, "Director Lin, do you think there's anything in the script that needs to be changed?"

"The main plot is fine." Lin Mo closed the script, thought for a moment, and said, "There's a small adjustment—when Cheng Yong finally decides to pay for the patients' medicine out of his own pocket, don't give him too many lines. Don't let him say things like 'I've had a change of heart' or 'I want to be a good person.' Let him not say anything, just silently take out the money and let the audience feel it for themselves."

Han Jianu nodded vigorously and took out her phone to type.

"One more thing," Lin Mo added, "The courtroom scene at the end can be kept, but it shouldn't be too sentimental. What's most touching isn't crying, but the actors holding back their tears."

Wen Muye and Han Jianu exchanged a glance and both smiled.

The three of them chatted for another hour or so.

We talked about everything from the script to casting, from casting to the filming schedule, and from the filming schedule to post-production and censorship.

Lin Mo didn't offer many specific suggestions; he was more of a gatekeeper—this direction is right, that direction is wrong, this can be kept, and that needs further consideration.

We finished talking around 4 PM.

When Fumino stood up, his back was sore from bending over and drawing storyboards.

"Director Lin, these comments today are enough for me to process for a week." He rubbed his lower back and put the stack of storyboards on the table into a file folder. "I'll go back and work on them properly. Once the actors are cast, I'll ask you to come and take a look again."

"OK."

The three of them walked to the door. Han Jianu suddenly stopped, turned around to look at Lin Mo, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke: "Director Lin, my dad said he was a little worried before—would this subject matter be too sensitive? But after you said it was okay to film it, he was relieved."

"Your dad is just being cautious," Lin Mo said. "It's understandable for someone in his position to be cautious, but your script isn't about being sensitive; it's about reality. Reality doesn't need to be feared."

Han Jianu nodded seriously: "I've got it."