Five years without pregnancy means you're too weak; I remarried a powerful man and had triplets

"Enter."

A low, slightly hoarse voice came from inside the door, its emotion unreadable, yet it was colder than usual.

Shen Zhiyi pushed open the door and entered. Before seeing anyone, she first smelled a very faint, cold fragrance of cedar, which seemed a few degrees more intense than usual.

Lu Zichuan stood with his back to her in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, his hands in his suit trouser pockets, his broad shoulders and back taut and straight, casting a very imposing shadow on the smooth, mirror-like marble floor.

"President Lu," Shen Zhiyi greeted him politely, standing ramrod straight in front of his desk.

Lu Zichuan didn't turn around.

The air seemed to freeze for a few seconds, with only a faint hum coming from the central air conditioning vents.

"sit."

He finally spoke, turned around and sat down in his own boss's chair, picked up a pen in his right hand and twirled it in his hand as if bored, staring intently at the small blot of ink that had spread out in front of him.

Shen Zhiyi didn't sit down immediately. Instead, she pushed the things she had prepared in front of him, seemingly oblivious to his coldness, and said calmly:

"Mr. Lu, this is my summary of the characteristics of your film, as well as the strengths of everyone in the office. In addition, I have read the script and the original novel of your new film three times, and I have made targeted annotations on key plots and character arcs. Some editing ideas have also been drafted in writing. Please take a look, and we can discuss it in more depth."

Lu Zichuan's fingers, which were turning the pen, stopped.

He lowered his eyes, his gaze falling on the thick stack of documents with perfectly neat edges, and his eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly: "You've done so much this morning?"

"We reviewed all seventeen of your feature films over the weekend, and the editor's qualities assessment was also completed at that time."

Shen Zhiyi spoke frankly and sincerely, without a hint of self-praise, "This morning was mainly spent digesting the new film's material and forming a preliminary editing logic framework."

After she finished speaking, the chill in the office seemed to... subtly ease a bit.

It didn't disappear; rather, it transformed from the biting frost into the cool water of late autumn—still cool, but no longer stinging.

Lu Zichuan didn't say anything more, but simply reached out his well-defined hand and scooped up the stack of documents in front of him.

He turned the pages slowly and deliberately, his gaze sweeping across the pages line by line, pausing occasionally, his fingertips lightly tapping on a particular line of analysis.

His focused expression made it seem as if the man who had just been feeling unwell was just an illusion.

Shen Zhiyi then found a seat on the sofa in the reception area.

But she didn't relax. Her back was straight as a pine tree, her legs were crossed gracefully, and her hands were lightly placed on her knees. Like a top student waiting for the final assessment, she exuded a calm and tenacious spirit in her silence.

Time slipped away with the rustling of pages turning.

After an unknown amount of time, Lu Zichuan slowly raised his head. The unfathomable depths of his eyes seemed to melt away slightly, revealing a hint of genuine appreciation: "Well done."

Five words, brief, yet carrying immense weight.

The tension that had been building up in Shen Zhiyi's heart for so long finally eased for a moment.

It seems the rumors were true; Lu Zichuan is indeed a person who clearly distinguishes between public and private matters.

Personal grudges aside, professional competence is the only standard by which he judges people.

"Thank you, Mr. Lu." She nodded slightly.

Lu Zichuan put down the documents, leaned back in his chair, clasped his hands in front of his abdomen, and looked at her again, this time with less scrutiny and more inquiry: "Tell me your understanding of the opening seven minutes of this film. The chase scene in the original novel is brief, but readers have praised it highly, finding it incredibly suffocating. How do you plan to recreate it on screen, or even surpass the imagination evoked by the text?"

coming.

Shen Zhiyi thought to herself.

This is not a simple question and answer session, but a real-world test.

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she took out a more concise report from her folder, stood up, walked steadily to her desk, spread the report out in front of Lu Zichuan, and pointed precisely at a storyboard sketch on a certain page.

"Mr. Lu, the suffocating feeling of written words stems from the blank spaces left for information and the reader's imagination. If a film simply replicates the written description, it will limit the imagination."

Her voice was steady, yet it carried a radiant glow of immersion in the creative process. "I suggest using the techniques of 'sensory deprivation' and 'rhythmic displacement'."

She traced the sketch with her fingertips: "In the first three minutes, completely abandon the background music, only retain the protagonist's heavy breathing, the sound of footsteps rubbing against the wet cobblestones, and the indistinct but approaching shouts of the pursuers behind. Visually, use handheld photography to create instability and shakiness, but deliberately keep the focus clear, so that the audience can see the fear on the protagonist's face, but not the faces of the pursuers, creating an unknown source of fear."

She looked up and stared directly at Lu Zichuan: "The most crucial part is at four minutes and twelve seconds, the scene where the protagonist hides in the abandoned phone booth. The original script describes her curled up and trembling. I suggest cutting back here. Instead of showing his face, the camera should show a hand wearing a leather glove outside the phone booth, slowly and tentatively tracing across the dusty glass. Accompanied by the creaking sound of fingernails scraping against the glass, after a 0.5-second delay, cut to a subjective shot of the protagonist's pupils constricting."

She paused, then said with certainty, "This 0.5-second delay between what is seen and what is not, and the scraping sound, will better simulate the brain's delayed perception effect under extreme fear than directly filming the pursuer appear. The feeling of suffocation stems from what is about to happen, not what has already happened."

Lu Zichuan listened quietly, his gaze moving from Shen Zhiyi's confident fingertips to her eyes, which were slightly bright with focus, and then to the logically rigorous and insightful analysis report.

He had already stopped twirling his pen, and now, his index finger, resting on the armrest, tapped it very lightly.

This subtle movement, however, sounded like the beating of war drums to Shen Zhiyi.

"Furthermore," she continued, seizing the opportunity, "regarding the interweaving of flashback fragments, I abandoned the traditional linear insertion. In the original work, the protagonist's traumatic memories are fragmented sensory flashbacks: the cold touch of metal, the smell of rotten oranges, the eerie laughter of children. I plan to scatter these fragments, not presenting them as complete scenes, but triggering them through close-ups and ASMR-level sound effects. Visually, only partial close-ups will be shown, such as a trembling hand digging its fingernails into rusted metal, a drop of cold sweat sliding down a temple... allowing the audience to fill in the gaps in the horror with their imagination, which is more sophisticated and longer-lasting than directly presenting bloody scenes."

After she finished speaking, she withdrew her hand, stood up straight again, and awaited the verdict.

The office fell silent again, with only her steady breathing and the slightly accelerated heartbeat in her chest.

Lu Zichuan remained silent for an even longer period.

He picked up the report again, looking at the bold yet well-reasoned ideas, and then glanced at Shen Zhiyi.

A hint of satisfaction flashed in those very pale eyes.

He knew she was capable.

In just half a day, he was able to come up with such insightful and unique solutions that even challenged his original ideas.