Chapter 0461: Your Choice

Perhaps because he had been filming for too long recently, Jiang Wen was acting a bit superstitious and distracted. Zhao Fusheng could tell that the man was actually very anxious, a feeling of something pent up in his chest.

Watching him gulp down his drink, Zhao Fusheng asked helplessly, “What’s the situation with Huayi?”

Jiang Wen looked up and forced a smile. “They agreed to invest another five million.”

Zhao Fusheng nodded with a smile. “Good, that should be enough.”

“Yeah, the money’s enough.” Jiang Wen sighed. “But the problem now is, the more I shoot, the more I feel it’s going to be too hard to get this film released domestically.”

Yu Feihong was taken aback, but Zhao Fusheng understood what Jiang Wen meant.

The film *Devils on the Doorstep* had a strong Jiang-style flavor. In short, it was Jiang Wen’s satire and exposure of that era. But in the eyes of certain people above, the film did not primarily highlight the Party’s leadership in the anti-Japanese effort.

For that reason alone, it was destined to be a banned film.

For Jiang Wen, this was undoubtedly hard to accept.

“Old Jiang, do you think living—either pursuing what you want or watching others pursue what they want—is a bit tiring?” Zhao Fusheng looked at Jiang Wen and suddenly asked.

Jiang Wen was startled, then silently lowered his head, staring at the swaying glass in front of him.

He felt a bit lost, not knowing why Zhao Fusheng had said that all of a sudden.

“Old Jiang.” Yu Feihong thought for a moment and said to Jiang Wen, “No matter what, living is always hard. There may be a rough patch, but once you get through it, happiness awaits, right?”

Zhao Fusheng almost laughed out loud. What was Yu Feihong thinking? Did she think Jiang Wen was troubled by relationship issues?

“Ahem, Feihong, what are you thinking?” Jiang Wen said to Yu Feihong, a bit embarrassed.

Yu Feihong was taken aback, then listened as Jiang Wen began to pour out his troubles about the film.

Seeing the two of them chatting happily, Zhao Fusheng didn’t interrupt. He stood up and headed for the restroom.

Sometimes a single word can stir our hearts, a string of words can move us to tears, and a single sentence can bring sudden enlightenment.

Perhaps for Jiang Wen, all he needed was someone to talk to.

Thinking this, Zhao Fusheng sighed inwardly. Everyone needs to confide in someone. Jiang Wen did, and so did he. But Jiang Wen could share his unhappiness with others.

As for himself, Zhao Fusheng shook his head helplessly.

Talking about time travel—others might not even believe it.

After all, this wasn’t the twenty-first century, where, after being baptized by countless films and novels, time travel and rebirth had become familiar concepts. With all kinds of stories featuring time travel and rebirth, who wouldn’t long to restart their own life if they were dissatisfied with their current one?

But now, if Zhao Fusheng told anyone about his experience, he’d probably be regarded as a lunatic.

So no matter what inner turmoil he felt, Zhao Fusheng could only hide it, silently, keeping it from everyone.

“Maybe this is the price,” Zhao Fusheng thought as he walked slowly, recalling the old poem: “All men are drunk, and I alone am sober.”

…

…

Entering the restroom, Zhao Fusheng finished his business and was about to leave when he heard a voice outside.

“Director Zhang, what do you think of this little girl?”

“Not bad, but a bit stiff, a little nervous,” a somewhat deep voice replied, sounding older.

Zhao Fusheng frowned and stopped, but didn’t step out.

“Then tonight I’ll have her go to your place, and you can give her some private coaching on acting,” the first voice said with a sly chuckle.

“Mm, that works,” Director Zhang said, feigning restraint as he nodded.

Footsteps faded away. When Zhao Fusheng finally walked out of the restroom, he blinked and shook his head with a wry smile. Could it get any more cliché?

But it had nothing to do with him. They had chosen their own path, and he had no need to interfere.

However, when Zhao Fusheng reached the door, he froze.

Because not far away, the girl who had sung earlier was standing there looking conflicted, flanked by two men. One of them was the director named Zhang Li. The other man Zhao Fusheng didn’t recognize, but he was almost certainly the one who had spoken in the restroom.

“Xiao Song, think it over. Director Zhang is a well-known director in our country,” the man said. As soon as he spoke, Zhao Fusheng knew he was the guy from the restroom.

“You flatter me, you flatter me,” Zhang Li quickly waved his hand, though his modest words were contradicted by his smug expression.

“I know, but it’s too late. I still need to get back to the dorm…” the girl surnamed Song said, head down, clutching the hem of her clothes.

She had come today for a film audition, but the assistant director had dragged her here, saying the director wanted to see her potential.

She had thought it was just a meeting, but after dinner they came to a bar, made her sing a song, and now the man wanted to take her home to “coach” her acting.

She wasn’t stupid. If she didn’t know what they were after by now, she’d be an idiot.

But the problem was, she didn’t want to sell herself like that!

“What dorm? Don’t you know how many people beg for Director Zhang’s coaching? I’m telling you, miss this chance, and you’ll never get another opportunity to play an important role!” the assistant director chimed in.

The girl was stunned, standing there speechless for a long time.

Zhao Fusheng had been about to leave, but at that moment, for some inexplicable reason, he stopped.

He really wanted to know what choice the girl would make.

Because at that moment, he thought of Fan Baobao from his past life.

Perhaps at some point in her previous life, she had faced the same choice: left or right—to choose the glory of being in the spotlight, or to sink into obscurity.

And now, this little girl surnamed Song seemed to be in the same situation as Fan Baobao.

He just wondered if she was as down-and-out as Fan Baobao had been in her past life.

“Xiao Song, I’m not really eager to coach you. It’s just that I see you as a promising talent with great potential, so I’ve taken a liking to nurturing you,” Zhang Li said, clearing his throat as he saw the girl hesitating. “Of course, if it’s inconvenient, then forget it. That’s that.”

With that, he made as if to leave.

And at that moment, a faint smile curled at the corner of Zhao Fusheng’s mouth...