Chapter 1995 So Near Yet So Far

August 8, 2008, clear skies.

Zhao Fusheng never dreamed that after being reborn, he would actually miss the opening ceremony of the Olympics!

But the facts were right before his eyes.

Mom and Dad Zhao, along with Fan Beibei and Zhao Xue, the whole family went to watch the opening ceremony live.

And Zhao Fusheng, obediently accompanying Fan Baobao, sat on the sofa at home, watching the familiar scene.

Life is full of surprises—that was probably Zhao Fusheng's mood right now.

“This flag bearer is really tall!”

Watching the Chinese athletes enter, Fan Baobao sincerely remarked, “I feel like he must be about two and a half meters tall.”

“No,”

Zhao Fusheng shook his head. “Two point three six meters.”

He knew very well that this man was one of the representative figures of Chinese basketball, and years later would become the chairman of the Basketball Association, only to be thoroughly screwed over by that bunch of lousy domestic players.

Not only that, but the American team he currently played for had withdrawn from the Chinese market in an extremely ridiculous way.

Thinking of this, Zhao Fusheng couldn't help but smile bitterly.

He wondered if, many years later, those fans would regret ever cheering for that team and hoping they could win a championship.

Just like the relationship between artists and celebrities.

In the eyes of those teams, so-called fans were never the most important.

The so-called Chinese market, in their view, was a loss they could afford; only we, in our wishful thinking, believed we mattered.

There are always people shouting that sports have no borders, saying that sports should be pure.

Pure my ass!

Zhao Fusheng really couldn't be bothered to curse those idiots. Although closing the country to international intercourse was indeed a backward act, in his view, China's cultural and sports industry treated foreigners far too generously.

So generously that they took it for granted and felt they could do whatever they wanted.

“What are you thinking about?”

Seeing Zhao Fusheng lost in thought, Fan Baobao couldn't help asking.

“Nothing.”

Zhao Fusheng shook his head. “You go ahead and watch. I'll look over some documents.”

To be honest, thinking about this, he immediately lost all interest in these sports events.

……

……

Back upstairs, Zhao Fusheng turned on his computer and began reviewing the company's documents.

"Crazy Racer" finally came off the screen just before the Olympics.

No surprise there; it was an inevitable result. Who could compete with the overwhelming attention the Olympics commanded? No film company would be foolish enough to pit their own work against it—unless they were insane.

At the end of the day, movies are commercial operations, an art form under the commercial industry, within the realm of entertainment.

At the very least, no one makes a film with the intention of losing money, right?

Even those with artistic aspirations crave both awards and market recognition.

Take Old Jiang, for example. His films are the kind that want to indulge himself while also hoping the audience understands his intentions and rejoices with him.

This includes people like Mo Jing Wang and Director Jia, all the same.

It's often said that loneliness is a solitary狂欢, and狂欢 is the loneliness of a crowd.

But the problem is, in their world, it's all loneliness, and no one is there to狂欢 with them.

Well, at least in terms of box office, that's true.

Take Director Jia, for instance. In thirty years in the film industry, the biggest-budget film he directed was "Ash Is Purest White," with an investment of, well, seventy million.

And that includes promotion and distribution costs.

This isn't Zhao Fusheng talking nonsense; it's a plain fact.

Not just Old Jia, but the entire sixth generation of Chinese directors has never made a big-budget film.

It's not that they don't want to; it's that no one invests.

Investors aren't fools. Why would they casually throw hundreds of millions for them to squander when they could hire a commercial director like Ning Hao to make a box-office hit?

So, these art film directors generally receive very little investment.

Add to that their lack of skill in catering to the market or selling nostalgia, like the Milk Tea Sister or Guo Jingming, and naturally, they end up struggling.

Thinking back to later, when Guo Jingming could actually become a judge on an acting competition show, Zhao Fusheng felt it was no wonder Chinese film and television had always lagged behind other countries.

Damn it!

Guo Jingming doesn't know a damn thing about acting!

With his directing skills, how could he sit on the judges' panel?

Chen Kaige is one thing, and Zhao Wei, at least, is a proper graduate from a professional school, even if she's now trying to whitewash herself. But what the hell is Guo Jingming?

Shaking his head helplessly, Zhao Fusheng took a deep breath, trying not to think about all those messy things, but in his heart he had already decided that the artists of his own company would never be associated with the likes of Xiao Si and Yu Ma.

Not for any other reason—he was afraid he couldn't help cursing.

The entertainment industry is a vanity fair, but even in a vanity fair, in Zhao Fusheng's view, one shouldn't be too unsightly in their greed.

The box office of "Crazy Racer" reached 130 million yuan.

After deducting the distributor's and theater chain's shares, Future Films could at least net tens of millions.

Of course, the cycle for this money is relatively long; to fully collect it, it would take at least next year, even with fast settlement.

No way around it—the film industry is like this now. Not just Future Films, even Zhao Fusheng can't solve it.

That's also why he's reluctant to invest too much in the film industry. With that spare cash, Zhao Fusheng would rather invest in variety shows, since at least he can see real money then.

Advertising revenue and such, if done well, are also decent.

But this is the current state of the entire industry. Zhao Fusheng can't change it, so he just has to let it be.

After thinking it over, Zhao Fusheng dialed Ye Jing's number.

"I heard you didn't have time to watch the opening ceremony?"

On the other end of the line, Ye Jing answered the call, chuckled, and teased Zhao Fusheng.

"You, can't we have a pleasant chat?"

Zhao Fusheng said helplessly: "We could talk nicely, but why do you have to rub salt in the wound?"

Ye Jing was speechless: "Come on, I'm about to go watch the opening ceremony performance. Do you have something?"

"Prepare a big red envelope for Ning Hao and the crew. Also, ask Ning Hao if he has any ideas for the next step."

Zhao Fusheng said to Ye Jing.

"Next step?"

Ye Jing was a bit surprised: "I've already arranged the red envelope matter. But how did you know Ning Hao plans to continue making movies?"

"I understand his thoughts."

Zhao Fusheng said calmly: "He's a person who can't stay idle."

"Let me think about it."

Ye Jing said in a deep voice: "To be honest, the company's situation is a bit problematic now. I'll talk to you in detail later, okay?"

"Okay."

Zhao Fusheng nodded.

Since Ye Jing said so, he must have something else to say. Zhao Fusheng naturally didn't want to overstep.

...

...

In the afternoon, after the opening ceremony ended, Zhao's mother and Li Yuan and others returned home.

While excitedly telling Fan Baobao about the situation, they asked where Zhao Fusheng had gone.

"Upstairs looking at documents."

Fan Baobao said.

"This kid, I told him to stay home with you, but he went off to look at documents." Zhao's mother said quite dissatisfied.

"He's busy with serious work."

Li Yuan quickly said to Zhao's mother.

"Yeah, Mom, I don't have anything going on. I don't need someone to keep me company." Fan Baobao smiled.

"Girl, even though this is your second pregnancy, you can't take it lightly."

Zhao's mother didn't think so. In her eyes, Fan Baobao was now the most precious person in the whole family.

Although having a boy or a girl is the same, if possible, she still hoped to have a son in the family, so he could inherit Zhao Fusheng's vast estate.

Otherwise, such a big enterprise would end up belonging to someone else's family, and Zhao's mother felt somewhat uncomfortable in her heart.

That's how the older generation thinks.

Though a bit traditional and sounds somewhat ridiculous, it's the truth.

"Alright, alright, whatever you say."

Fan Baobao also nodded helplessly.

Zhao's mother's attitude naturally represented Zhao's father's.

Regardless, the family business indeed needed an heir.

On this point, Fan Baobao herself understood.

"What are you all chatting about?"

At that moment, Zhao Fusheng came downstairs and, seeing a group of people in the living room, asked somewhat curiously.

"About you."

Zhao's mother turned her head and said grumpily: "I told you to stay home and take care of Baobao, but you went off to look at documents. Is the company so busy that it can't function without you?"

With his mother throwing a tantrum, Zhao Fusheng decisively chose to flee. Using the excuse that the company had matters, he called Liu Yiming and left home by car.