diymy Chapter 70, 1 Problems
Chapter 70, 1 Problems
Peng Bing whispered to the photographer about positioning, emphasizing the triple core tension.
Yu Wanyin was about to take a desperate gamble, like a "corporate slave transmigrating into a book as cannon fodder." Her fingertips clenched her sleeves until her knuckles turned white, and her eyes held the panic of a death-defying test.
Xiahou Danxu sat upright beside the dragon bed, his body enveloped in the coldness of sixteen years of forbearance after transmigrating into the book. His eyes were sharp as knives but concealed an undying loneliness, and even his breathing adhered to the disguise of a "puppet tyrant."
The key focus was finalizing the core scenario for "English code communication"—
A palace intrigue drama about a concubine's intimacy requires capturing the extreme tension of "modern slang triggering probing and absurd English shattering pretense."
Chen Lei arrived at the set first, wearing a black brocade robe with dragon patterns. The dark patterns on the fabric gleamed coldly under the lights, making his figure appear tall and straight, yet exuding a sense of suppressed stiffness.
He sat upright beside the dragon bed as required by the plot, his back straight as a sturdy pine tree, his fingertips trembling slightly when no one was watching—this was Xiahou Dan's survival instinct after being controlled by the Empress Dowager for sixteen years.
When facing the camera from the side, his eyes were filled with numbness and restraint, as if he had unintentionally blurted out "Hey you, step back" to Yu Wanyin (a key foreshadowing in the drama, the fuse for Yu Wanyin's probing), completely immersed in the role.
Chu Ran was surrounded by stylists getting her makeup touched up.
Yu Wanyin's appearance is stunning yet fragmented. Her hair ornaments, adorned with gold and kingfisher feathers, tremble slightly. Her red dress trails on the ground, but the hem is slightly disheveled, fitting the plot of "corporate slave Wang Cuihua transmigrates into a cannon fodder demon concubine, facing a deadly trap of serving the emperor as soon as she opens her eyes." The fear in her eyes is her true reaction after transmigrating into the book.
She sat down at the dressing table, her fingertips digging into her palm as she muttered "I'll take a gamble," repeatedly mimicking a trembling tone—this was her last desperate attempt to test her kind after discovering Xiahou Dan's modern catchphrase, "that guy."
Xu Wen leaned over to check the camera angle and noticed her tense shoulder line: "Add a little more of the despair of 'mistaking someone for someone else and dying,' to portray the survival instinct of a corporate slave."
After the stylist finished touching up her lip makeup, Chu Ran took a deep breath and walked to the center of the scene. She raised her hand to touch the hair ornament, her fingertips trembling slightly, but her eyes sharpened instantly, switching to a state of "cowardice mixed with courage"—both afraid of death and forced to take the gamble.
Zeng Hao's side-view camera captured the change in her eyes perfectly.
Chu Ran didn't look at the script. Instead, she practiced her lip movements silently in front of the air. Every "How are you" was shrouded in fear. She also pondered the "hesitation after hearing modern slang" repeatedly, which fit the logic of the drama's premise of "first capturing modern signals and then probing".
"preparation--"
Peng Bing's voice drowned out the noise.
The clapperboard is struck, first act of the first game.
Chen Lei got into character first, raising his hand with a puppet-like stiffness in his fingertips. His gaze swept over Chu Ran with a cold scrutiny. He casually ordered, "Hey you..." but deliberately stopped before he could finish speaking.
A moment later, Yu Wanyin, played by Chu Ran, paused slightly, a belated realization flashing in her eyes amidst the panic—modern slang made her confirm that the other person was most likely one of her kind.
Chu Ran approached with hurried steps, the sound of her skirt brushing the ground filled with panic. Her body swayed slightly as she took her first step into the frame, a testament to the instinctive fear of a transmigrator facing a tyrant.
The two faced off on the dragon throne.
Yu Wanyin knelt on the ground, her fingers clenching her sleeves until they turned white. After three seconds of silence, she suddenly looked up, her voice cracking and trembling: "How are you?"
The photographer's lens simultaneously captured two faces: Xiahou Dan, played by Chen Lei, suddenly contracted his pupils, his Adam's apple bobbed, his cold mask cracked instantly, and the numbness in his eyes was replaced by ecstasy and disbelief.
Xiahou Dan paused for two seconds (a classic pause in the drama version), then replied in a low, hoarse voice, choked with emotion: "I'm fine, and you?"
The two held hands and looked at each other with tears in their eyes, silently reaching a tacit understanding of the "Hot Pot Alliance" (the core agreement of the drama version).
"Pass."
When Peng Bing finished speaking, there was a moment of silence, followed by a sudden burst of sound from the walkie-talkie.
Peng Bing turned around and looked at Zeng Hao, as if he wanted to say something, but he opened his mouth and then closed it, instead nodding.
Zeng Hao has already turned his attention to the script for the next match.
Xu Wen leaned closer, his voice low: "President Zeng, when you signed these two people, did you know this would be the result of putting them together?"
"Look at the sheet." Zeng Hao pushed the stage manager's sheet toward him.
Xu Wen took it, glanced at it, and didn't say anything more, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly before he quickly suppressed it.
On set, Peng Bing was already reviewing the blocking with the cinematographer, while the lighting crew started adjusting the angles for the second scene.
Chu Ran sat back down in her chair and opened the script again. Half of the textbook in her schoolbag was sticking out from the zipper, but no one paid any attention to it.
The stage manager called for preparations for the next match.
Xu Wen glanced at his phone during a break. The second most searched topic was Dingsheng, which was still trending. The comment section had been refreshed with hundreds of comments. The latest one was an analysis by an entertainment blogger with tens of thousands of followers. The analysis was two thousand words long, and the conclusion was: In the 2016 customized talent show, Dingsheng's move was a game-changer, and other entrants basically had no chance of winning.
It was forwarded over 3,000 times, and the comments below were all in agreement.
Xu Wen placed his phone screen-down on his lap, took a deep breath, and turned to look at Zeng Hao.
Zeng Hao was watching the monitor. The positioning for the second scene had just been adjusted. Peng Bing was talking to Cheng Lei. Cheng Lei nodded and moved half a step to the left of the camera.
"President Zeng," Xu Wen couldn't help but say, "they say we have no chance of winning."
"Um."
"...Just...?"
"Let them talk."
Zeng Hao slightly adjusted the angle of the monitor, his gaze falling on the viewfinder. Chu Ran was standing at the end of the corridor, with the library lintel, whose set had just been completed that day, behind her. The paint wasn't completely dry, but it looked different in the lens.
We filmed four scenes in the afternoon, and it was past six o'clock when we wrapped up.
The crew members gradually dispersed; some stayed on set, while others went home. The noise slowly faded away.
Peng Bing was reviewing today's footage with the photographer, their heads facing each other as they watched frame by frame on the screen.
...
The office lights are on.
When Zeng Hao pushed open the door, it was already past 11:30. The film crew had finished work late, and there was a traffic jam on the way back. When he went upstairs, only the cleaning lady was pushing a cart in the corridor, which was as quiet as another world.
He thought he had gone to the wrong place.
There is a person on the sofa.
Chu Ran lay on her side, her coat draped over her body—it was the dark blue school uniform style. Her schoolbag was placed at the foot of the sofa, the zipper open, and half of the script had slid out, cover up. The scene in the library was flipped to the middle, with a triangular corner folded in the page.
The table lamp was on, but the light was very small, only illuminating the area around the sofa.
Zeng Hao stood at the door for two seconds without saying a word, draped his coat over the back of the chair by the door, walked to the table, and turned down the brightness of the computer screen by one level.
As the screen dimmed, the light from the sofa became more apparent.
She wasn't sleeping soundly. When she heard him pull out the chair, she stirred, opened her eyes a crack, saw it was him, didn't say anything, and closed them again.
Zeng Hao gathered the documents on the table, opened the material briefing sent from the film crew today, and began to read it.
The phone lit up briefly.
It was a voice message from Chen Business, timestampd 11:53. Zeng Hao didn't click on it, but read the transcript directly: Dingsheng is having an event, they had dinner with some people from the platform, the idea is to re-evaluate the iQiyi slot, saying that Sunshine Entertainment's scale is not enough, and they can't handle any problems if something goes wrong - President Zeng, do you have any thoughts on this? I'm under a lot of pressure.
Zeng Hao flipped through the contract backup folder on his phone, found the one he signed last week, and turned to page nine.
The artist replacement clause is in black and white, and has been signed and stamped by iQiyi's legal department.
He replied with two words: "I understand."
Put the phone face down on the table.
A slight sound came from the sofa. Her coat had slipped halfway down. She reached out to touch it, but couldn't find it. Her eyelashes fluttered, but she didn't wake up.
Zeng Hao glanced at it, stood up, and put the coat back on.
The movements were very light, without any unnecessary pauses.
He sat back down and continued reviewing the briefing materials. There was a problem with the camera angle for the third scene today. Peng Bing had added a note at the end of the briefing, explaining that they would reshoot tomorrow and prepare an extra camera angle. Zeng Hao wrote "Approved" under that line and closed the document.
There was little noise outside the window; at this time of night in Qianhu City, even the sound of cars had become rare.
I don't know how much time has passed.
There was the sound of fabric rubbing against the sofa, followed by a very soft exhale, as if rising from the depths.
"What time is it?"
Her voice was sleepy and a little hoarse; her eyes weren't fully open when she asked the question.
"It's almost two o'clock."
"……oh."
She sat up, her hair a little messy, with a crease on the side. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, then reached for her bag and stuffed the script back in. Her movements were a little slow; she wasn't fully awake yet.
"There's a word in the script that I couldn't find its source," she said, her voice still hoarse. She didn't look up as she spoke, her fingers flipping through the script. "'Qingwu Yin,' Teacher Fang Qing said she made it up herself, but I thought it would feel better to memorize it if it had a classical reference—"
There is no precedent.
"Oh." She closed the script. "So it was made up."
"Um."
She nodded casually, put the script into her bag, and stood up to straighten her coat.
A breeze was blowing outside the window, and two silhouettes were reflected in the glass, one sitting and one standing. The light from the table lamp drew a faint line on the floor.
She walked to the table, picked up the glass of cold tea on his desk, took a sip, and put it back.
I didn't even ask him if he minded.
Zeng Hao didn't say anything.
She slung her backpack over her shoulder, walked towards the door, took two steps, stopped, turned her head, and her eyes still showed a hint of sleepiness.
"that……"
She paused for a moment.
"fine."
The voice was very soft, as if the speaker had contradicted themselves, and the words were swallowed back down.
She turned back and opened the door.
"Mr. Zeng,"
She stopped walking, without turning around, her voice a little softer than before, as if she had said it casually, or as if she had thought about it for a long time, "Remember to eat breakfast."
The door was closed.
The sound was very soft, as if nothing had happened.
...
When Chen, the business manager, slammed the stack of papers on the table, Zeng Hao was unpacking a package.
It wasn't anything important; it was a prop list that Peng Bing had sent, a checklist of set materials from the library, along with a handwritten note. The handwriting was very messy, and it basically said that the paint color was off by one shade and asked if they wanted to redo it.
Zeng Hao pushed the list aside and glanced down at the stack of papers.
A4 paper, printed. The first page is a bar chart with the horizontal axis representing the date and the vertical axis representing media exposure.
The graph of the Korean boy band Dingsheng stretches from the bottom left to the top right, with the highest point marked in red: Top 3 in overall exposure across all platforms this week.
"President Zeng," Chen, the business manager, sat down in his chair, his voice lower than last time, "Dingsheng held another meeting with us yesterday, saying that Sunshine Entertainment's scale isn't large enough, and what if something goes wrong—"
"Where is the contract?"
"...What?"
"The one we signed last week." Zeng Hao handed the prop list to Xu Wen. "Did you bring it?"
Chen, the business manager, paused for a moment, opened the file bag he carried with him, pulled out the contract, and pushed it over.
Zeng Hao turned to page nine, flipped that section over, and pushed it back.
Artist replacement clause. Chen, the business manager, stared at the text, his lips moved but he didn't speak. He looked down and saw the line "force majeure and policy reasons". He continued down, and the breach of contract liability was waived. The replacement plan would be initiated within 48 hours, and the platform must confirm the plan within 24 hours of receiving it.
"This was added by our legal department," Chen, the business manager, looked up. "We added it in case something happened to the artist..."
"Um."
"...But Dingsheng said—"
When did they file the registration?
Chen, the business manager, paused for a moment: "What?"
"The Korean boy band is entering China; we need to apply for a broadcast license and report to the TV station," Zeng Hao said, closing the contract. "The filing date."
Chen, the business manager, thought for a moment and said, "It was done last November, a year in advance. Everything went smoothly, and there were no problems with the paperwork."
"Um."
That was all.
Chen, the business manager, waited two seconds and, realizing that Zeng really wasn't going to say anything more, had no choice but to speak again: "President Zeng, Dingsheng's idea is to have the platform re-evaluated, and I'm indeed under pressure—"
Have you finished reading the terms and conditions?
"I've seen it."
"That's fine then."
Chen, the business manager, pushed the contract back, his expression complex. He seemed to want to ask more questions, but felt he wouldn't get anything out of them. Finally, he stood up, took back the stack of media data, walked to the door, and paused.
"Mr. Zeng, are you really not worried?"
Zeng Hao had already picked up Peng Bing's note again, circled the words "color code" next to it, and wrote "No need to start over, adjust the lighting".
"Let them talk."
Chen Shangwu went out.
After Xu Wen closed the door, he glanced at his phone. The top trending topic was the official announcement of the Dingsheng Goryeo boy group, which had been shared over 40,000 times. The latest comment was from an entertainment blogger: "The most anticipated idol group of 2016, without a doubt."
She put her phone back face down and looked at Zeng Hao.
Zeng Hao was replying to Peng Bing's message. After sending it, he casually flipped over the bar chart that Chen Shangwu hadn't taken with him from the table.
"What about the film crew?"
"We're shooting the sixth scene today," Xu Wen said, flipping through the schedule. "Director Peng said we need to have an extra camera angle for Chu Ran's scene. There's also a solo scene with Cheng Lei this afternoon. We'll wrap up around 8 p.m. tonight."
Zeng Hao responded and didn't ask any more questions.
Zhang Tianai arrived at 9:20 PM.
Xu Wen had already finished get off work, and only the intern on duty at the front desk remained in the corridor. Upon seeing Zhang Tianai, the intern stood up as if to say something, but Zhang Tianai waved her hand and walked straight inside.
The office lights were on.
She stood at the door for a moment, then pushed the door open and came in.
Zeng Hao was looking at the contract. There were three copies on the table, and next to him was an untouched cup with tea leaves that had already dissolved and turned a dark color.
"Are you done with your work?" She put her bag on the sofa and sat down opposite her.