Life countdown begins, ice queen bursts into security room

At the same time, in Songjiang District.

In that two-story building covered in ivy, the bedside lamp in the second-floor bedroom was still on.

Ning Yuan tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep, his mind filled with the half-finished script.

How should the camera be positioned during the scene where Charlotte is singing on stage?

Should we approach from the side, or present a panoramic view that gradually zooms out from the front?

In the scene where Ma Dongmei is waiting for him at home, at which beat should the emotion be focused?

Where should the actor's eyes be when finishing their lines?

The more I think about it, the clearer I become; the clearer I become, the more agitated I get.

He threw off the covers and sat up, turning his head to look at Lin Wan, who was already fast asleep beside him.

During the day, this woman patted the back of his head in front of outsiders, and even winked at Su Yuyan, laughing at him.

Ning Yuan reached out and patted Lin Wan's arm twice.

Lin Wan was groggily woken up.

"Are you crazy in the middle of the night? Why the hell are you bothering me if you can't sleep?!"

"Who told you to laugh at me during the day?"

Lin Wan was so angry that she punched him on the shoulder.

"Ning Yuan, are you sick—ah!"

-

8:00 AM the next day.

Jiang Fan woke up first in Su Yuyan's apartment.

Su Yuyan was lying on her side, with one arm draped across his waist, her messy hair covering half her face, fast asleep.

Jiang Fan gently moved her arm away and got out of bed to find his clothes.

I picked up my phone from the bedside table and saw two unread messages.

One of them was from Ningyuan, sent at 3:07 AM.

"When are you going to read the second half? What time are you arriving at the office tomorrow?"

Jiang Fan replied, "Come anytime after 10 a.m.

The message was sent out and Ning Yuan replied instantly.

"OK."

Another comment followed: "You'd better not make me come all this way for nothing."

A message sent at 3 a.m. received a reply in a second at 6 a.m. — Did this person even sleep last night?

There was another one from Song Siyi, posted at four in the morning.

"Jiang Fan, I thought about that story all night yesterday. You should really consider it; it'll definitely be a hit if you write it."

Jiang Fan put his phone back in his pocket and went to the living room to pour himself a glass of water.

Su Yuyan walked out of the bedroom wearing a silk robe, her hair haphazardly gathered with her hands, her eyes not yet fully open.

What are you doing today?

"Back at the company, Ning Yuan wants to see the second half of the script."

Su Yuyan nodded and yawned.

"Then you can go. I don't have any work scheduled today, I'm going to catch up on some sleep."

After she finished speaking, she turned and walked towards the bedroom, but stopped after taking two steps and turned her head away.

"By the way, what happened to the White Bone Demon in yesterday's story?"

"He was beaten to death. It took three tries to kill him."

"Three times?" Su Yuyan glanced at him. "Isn't Sun Wukong very powerful? How come it was only three times?"

"Empress Su, there's a hidden meaning in your words."

Su Yuyan snorted and reached out to pull down the shoulder straps of her silk nightgown, revealing a section of her smooth shoulder.

She turned her head, her eyes slightly upturned, and gave Jiang Fan a flirtatious wink.

Jiang Fan couldn't stand this kind of provocation.

He rushed over in two strides and grabbed her waist.

Su Yuyan gasped in surprise as he picked her up and threw her back onto the bed.

"You demon, you have corrupted my resolve!"

-

Jiang Fan arrived at the company at 10:30 a.m.

The reason for being late is indescribable.

Zhou Yutong, the receptionist, came up to greet us, carrying a folder in her hands.

"Brother Fan, Director Ning is waiting for you in the conference room. He's been here for almost an hour."

Jiang Fan paused for a moment, then went to the office to get the second half of the script.

Pushing open the conference room door, Ning Yuan sat at the end of the long table.

He looked completely different from yesterday. His buzz cut was neatly styled, his beard was clean-shaven, and he was wearing a gray polo shirt. He looked much more presentable.

But the two dark circles under his eyes betrayed him—this man hadn't slept much last night.

"Sorry, there was a traffic jam."

Ning Yuan waved his hand, his gaze fixed on the brown paper bag in his hand.

"The second half?"

Jiang Fan pushed the paper bag over.

Ning Yuan reached out and opened it without even looking up.

"You go about your business, don't worry about me."

Jiang Fan nodded, turned around and left the conference room, closing the door behind him.

Shen Nian's competition piece for the finals needs to be decided as soon as possible.

He returned to his office, turned on his computer, brought up the song list in the system's online store, and began filtering.

The meeting room was quiet for forty minutes.

Zhou Yutong brought water in once during the session, and when she came out, she told Jiang Fan, "Director Ning was watching very intently; he didn't even touch the water."

Another twenty minutes passed.

Jiang Fan had initially selected three songs from the system's online store and was comparing their compatibility data when the office door opened.

Ning Yuan stood at the door, his hands in his pockets.

"Finished reading?" Jiang Fan stood up from his chair.

The two returned to the meeting room.

The script was spread out on the table. Ning Yuan sat in his original spot, his hands resting on the stack of papers, and remained silent for a long time.

"This is the best comedy script I've ever read in my life."

Jiang Fan paused for a moment while holding the cup.

Is this the best comedy script?

Goodbye Mr. Loser was indeed popular in its previous life, but to say it's the "best"—

What would you do if I pulled out the "A Chinese Odyssey" series?

But then I thought about it again, Earth doesn't even have Journey to the West, so many classic IPs simply can't be filmed.

Therefore, publishing "Journey to the West" will have to be put on the agenda sooner or later.

I still need to work hard to accumulate lifespan points.

Jiang Fan sat down opposite him.

"Should we take the picture or not?"

Ning Yuan pulled his chair forward and rested his arms on the table.

"I'm fine with filming, but I want to use my own people as the cinematographer. I've worked with Lao Zhou on four films already, and I'm not comfortable using anyone else. I also have to choose the art director."

"no problem."

Ning Yuan tapped his fingers twice on the table.

"As for the salary."

Jiang Fan took a sip of water and waited for him to name his price.

"I don't want a salary. I want a share of the net profits, eight percent."

Jiang Fan put down his cup.

Eight points.

The pay is a fixed amount; you get paid as soon as you finish the job.

Box office revenue sharing is another matter entirely—if a movie flops, you don't get a penny; if it's a hit, you can earn several times that amount.

Ning Yuan's decision to choose profit sharing over salary demonstrates his confidence in the script.

But Jiang Fan knew all too well how much box office "Goodbye Mr. Loser" could make; in his previous life, it had already grossed over 1.4 billion.

Eight points? Don't even think about it.

"Two dots."

Ning Yuan's face immediately darkened.

"Two points? Are you trying to fob me off like a beggar?"

"You weren't being polite when you gave eight points."

"Six points." Ning Yuan conceded a step. "Anything less than six points is out of the question."

"No way, no way." Jiang Fan leaned back in his chair. "You said it yourself, any assistant director could film this script."

These were Ning Yuan's exact words from yesterday, and now they've been thrown back at him verbatim.

Ning Yuan's face turned red.

He gritted his teeth and tapped his fingers on the table several times, restraining himself from losing his temper.

Five points.

"Three points. Not a single one more." Jiang Fan held up three fingers. "But I guarantee you, the amount you'll receive won't be less than ten million."

Ning Yuan got stuck.

Ten million?

To achieve a net profit share of 3%, the company needs to reach 10 million, which means the net profit must be at least 300 million.

Converted to box office revenue—

Ning Yuan's pupils contracted slightly.

Are you sure?

Jiang Fan didn't explain, nor did he offer any guarantees or empty promises.

"It can be written into the contract."

The meeting room was silent for a full ten seconds.

Ning Yuan picked up the water in front of him, took a big gulp, and slammed the bottom of the cup heavily on the table.

"make a deal."