Chapter 0306: Thoughts

In the entertainment industry, there are no secrets.

Everyone has a mouth, and when they speak, they like to add their own understanding and embellishments. Very few people, or rather, it's extremely rare, to relay someone else's words completely intact.

So when a message travels from one person's mouth to another's ears, after several rounds of transmission, there is simply no way to control what it becomes.

Because people are curious; everyone longs to share others' secrets and, through this sharing, gain some inner emotional satisfaction.

It's like a flu epidemic: where the virus spreads, no one can escape.

So although Zhao Fusheng was not in the entertainment circle, his legend had already spread within the film and television circles in the capital.

Fortunately, apart from a few people, no one knew that the advertising designer of Future Advertising, who used the English name of the fallen angel, was Fusheng, the screenwriter of Andy Lau's latest movie, Infernal Affairs.

But even so, Jiang Wen and Wang Zhonglei were actually testing Zhao Fusheng today, because they wanted to know what he was really up to.

"Do you think he might have seen through our test and deliberately avoided drinking?" Wang Zhonglei said to Jiang Wen after a moment's thought.

Jiang Wen frowned, thought for a while, then shook his head: "Probably not. I could tell he really doesn't like drinking."

Everyone has their own habits, and that's something that can't be changed.

Based on Jiang Wen's observations, at least in his impression, no young person of Zhao Fusheng's age had ever shown such composure.

Even Jiang Wen himself couldn't; when he was Zhao Fusheng's age, he was still a hot-headed youth.

"Come to think of it, it's strange. When Wang Jinghua introduced him to me, I really didn't expect that something he casually wrote could actually attract you," Wang Zhonglei said seriously.

This was his honest opinion, because originally, in his view, Zhao Fusheng was just an occasional dabbler who could produce good work.

But the fact that the story Devils on the Doorstep had caught the attention of the always arrogant Jiang Wen changed things.

Although Huayi had just entered the industry not long ago, the Wang brothers had big ambitions; their goal was the stars and the sea... no, to become the top film company in the country.

Therefore, Huayi had been striving to recruit first-tier directors and stars from across the country. Directors like Ma Dajun and Jiang Wen, who had risen to fame, and the group of stars under Wang Jinghua. Wang Zhonglei hadn't lied to Zhao Fusheng when he said that if Zhao Fusheng was willing, Huayi was very eager to have him join.

The reason was simple: Huayi currently lacked good screenwriters.

Many people think that the most important elements of a film are the actors and the director, especially the actors. As long as the actors are big enough, skilled enough, or even have enough fans, they can make a movie with huge box office returns. By casting some traffic stars, handsome men and beautiful women, they can produce a film with explosive ratings.

But in fact, this kind of behavior might work in the beginning and fool some people. However, if it goes on for too long, it will inevitably be rejected by the audience.

No one likes to be made a fool!

The most obvious example is the domestic film market around 2015. After a major box office explosion, the audience quickly changed. The screen dividend had digested a large number of good and bad films over the past two or three years, but as the destructive effect of a large number of bad films produced under misleading signals emerged, the audience's backlash gradually appeared. Even Hollywood blockbusters could suffer dismal box office performance in the domestic market.

The real key to a good work lies in the script.

In other words, it lies in the screenwriter.

After all, there are plenty of big stars and directors everywhere, but a good script is not so easy to come by. Everyone can tell stories and talk nonsense, but when it comes to writing scripts, few can do it well.

The Wang brothers had suffered losses before. They invested in a TV series that, due to the lack of a good screenwriter, ended up unable to even be broadcast, and millions of investment went down the drain.

So now, Wang Zhonglei genuinely had the intention of recruiting Zhao Fusheng.

"That kid isn't so easy to recruit," Jiang Wen said after a moment of silence to Wang Zhonglei. "He's doing well in advertising; there's no way he'd become a screenwriter for just a few tens of thousands."

Wang Zhonglei smiled bitterly, and the two of them sighed almost simultaneously.

That was the crux of the problem!

Nowadays, in the domestic film and television circle, the status of behind-the-scenes staff is far too low. For example, the best screenwriters in the country get only thirty to fifty thousand yuan for a script, and newcomers even less, just a few thousand.

That's why everyone was surprised when Andy Lau offered Zhao Fusheng 500,000 Hong Kong dollars for the script fee. Even when it was finally reduced to 200,000, Yue Yiling thought it was too much, because she knew the market rate for mainland film screenwriters: fifty thousand was already top-tier treatment.

Two hundred thousand was simply unheard of.

If it were an ordinary newcomer, they might happily accept Wang Zhonglei's olive branch, but the problem was that Zhao Fusheng wasn't even part of the film circle; he was in advertising.

Having made his own way in the advertising industry, Wang Zhonglei naturally knew that a good advertising designer earns much more than a screenwriter.

For example, if Zhao Fusheng designed an ad that could boost a merchant's product sales, the bonuses and other compensation he could get would definitely be more than what he'd earn from a movie or TV series.

Under such circumstances, only a fool would choose to be a thankless screenwriter.

"Let's see. Give him fifty thousand for the script fee this time. At least we'll build a good relationship. I think we'll definitely meet again in the future," Wang Zhonglei finally said with a smile to Jiang Wen.

Naturally, Zhao Fusheng didn't know that he had become the focus of attention for two big shots in the entertainment industry.

He only felt, based on his life experience and intuition, that this meal was a bit inexplicable, so he was a little more cautious.

Moreover, Zhao Fusheng truly had no intention of developing in the direction of screenwriting.

With the little knowledge he had in his head, occasionally dabbling for some pocket money was fine, but if he actually entered this profession, having to think about creating scripts every day and facing the increasingly developed media in the future, Zhao Fusheng felt it was better to just go to bed.

Everyone has things they are good at and things they are not. He knew very well what he was good at, and he also knew that in the entertainment industry, only capitalists are the true masters.

"Why are you back so late?"

When he got home, Zhao Fusheng found that Fan Baobao hadn't slept yet. Seeing him enter, she rubbed her eyes and asked him.

Zhao Fusheng smiled: "Had a few extra drinks with friends. Why aren't you asleep yet?"

He paused and said with a smile: "You weren't waiting for me, were you?"

"Ha, you're so beautiful. I was watching a TV drama," Fan Baobao retorted, returning the exact words Zhao Fusheng had once said to her. She stood up and walked toward the bedroom.

"Look at you, you have no sense of humor at all," Zhao Fusheng said with a smile, but didn't stop her. He walked to the sofa, picked up the remote, and turned off the TV.

This girl always had a sharp tongue. Clearly, she had been staying up waiting for him, but she made the excuse of watching a TV drama.

Back in the room, Zhao Fusheng fell asleep immediately. Although he hadn't drunk much, he had been very tired these past couple of days.