Chapter 0903: Hello, June

If there was one thing in June 2002 that could drive people all over the world, especially men, crazy, it was the World Cup.

Even Fan Baobao, who didn't like watching football, said that this year's national team had a chance to create a miracle.

Only Zhao Fusheng knew that those guys not only wouldn't create a miracle, but would become a joke to the whole world.

But he couldn't tell anyone, and could only let the fans around him happily look forward to it. Still, that was fine; sometimes knowing nothing was actually a kind of happiness.

The World Cup opening match was on June 1st. Zhao Fusheng was caught by Jiang Wen, who was in the capital, to watch football with him all night. The next day, Fan Baobao dragged him to watch Beckham...

Half a month later, exhausted, Zhao Fusheng decided to play dead at home.

There was no help for it. In the group stage, the national team unsurprisingly lost three straight matches. Even Costa Rica, considered a weak team before the tournament, scored two goals against them. It was quite orderly: losing by two goals to Costa Rica, three to Turkey, and four to Brazil.

Well, those last two teams—one was the eventual champion, the other the third-place finisher.

That's right. The so-called groups of death before the tournament were all jokes. Only the group China was in was a true group of death.

As for the performance of the Korean bastards, there was no need to mention it. Zhao Fusheng could only sigh that biased refereeing existed everywhere—not just in the Chinese Super League and China League One, but also in the World Cup.

The following days went without saying. After losing the third match to Turkey by three goals, Fan Baobao cried her eyes out. Zhao Fusheng had to comfort her on the side.

"It's okay, we'll come back next time and definitely score!" Fan Baobao wiped away her tears and said seriously.

Zhao Fusheng blinked and didn't dare tell her that, let alone the next edition, even the one after that, she wouldn't see the Chinese national team in the World Cup.

Although he was reluctant to admit it, this current national team was already the strongest group in the past thirty years. Their successors were like the saying goes:

An old lady celebrating the New Year—each year worse than the last.

What expectations could one have for players who even dared to lose to a team like Thailand?

But regardless, the World Cup finally ended, and July 2002 arrived quietly.

Recently, the entertainment industry seemed calm, as if no news was happening. But unnoticed, a film titled *Cell Phone* quietly completed its script registration and officially formed its crew.

The crew was too small; they didn't even hold a start-of-filming ceremony. Mainly, it was to keep a low profile. As Ye Jing put it, "Dogs that bite don't bark." Their film didn't need all that unnecessary publicity. When it was released, it was bound to cause a bloodbath anyway.

The reason he said this was simple: around the same time, *The Missing Gun* also officially started filming.

In other words, the two films were destined to clash in the same release window.

However, unlike what Zhao Fusheng remembered, this time although Lu Chuan was still the screenwriter of "The Missing Gun," the director had become Ma Dajun, and the lead actor had also been replaced.

That's right, Jiang Wen decisively turned down the invitation for "The Missing Gun." Although he really liked the script, in his own words, he didn't want to make a movie while having to kowtow to others.

Zhao Fusheng had no objection to this; after all, it was Old Jiang's own choice. He was just curious: without Jiang Wen, what kind of film would Ma Dajun make of "The Missing Gun," and what sparks would fly between Lu Chuan and Ma Dajun?

You see, in his previous life, Zhao Fusheng knew very well that to make "The Missing Gun," Lu Chuan was almost driven mad by Jiang Wen, and there were even rumors of him crying on set.

Of course, the truth of the matter couldn't be verified, but it was certain that the collaboration between Lu Chuan and Jiang Wen was by no means a pleasant experience for him.

After all, Lu Chuan was a new-generation director with his own artistic pursuits. Running into an old rogue like Jiang Wen and being ground down underfoot—anyone would find that far from a happy experience.

Though he might say he learned a lot, in his heart, he was probably cursing up a storm.

The entertainment circle, the literati—they're famously hypocritical and insincere.

Zhao Fusheng was that kind of person too. Although he tried to be a bit more sincere than those people, he knew very well that he was also a hypocrite.

There was no helping it. If a person lived too authentically, life in this world would be very hard. This was a maxim Zhao Fusheng had distilled from countless setbacks.

Though it didn't sound particularly high-end or classy, it still had a lot of depth.

Well, there was one more person who was very enthusiastic about this matter.

Fan Baobao.

That's right, the same Fan Baobao who lived under the same roof as Zhao Fusheng.

Even Zhao Fusheng hadn't expected that Fan Baobao, who according to the plan was only supposed to make a cameo in a few scenes of *Cell Phone*, would be so invested in this film. In her own words, this was a war!

Okay, to be honest, in Zhao Fusheng's view, the little girl just liked to join in the fun. She thought this was a battle between her boyfriend and her best friend's boyfriend against the villain Ma Dajun, and as a family member, she naturally had to help Zhao Fusheng.

It was only because Zhou Yun had gone home due to her upcoming graduation that she didn't drag Zhou Yun to the set to help.

Zhao Fusheng had no way to deal with this, so he just let her be. With Dong Chenxi and Jiang Wen on set, she wouldn't suffer any losses anyway.

As for Zhao Fusheng himself, he hadn't put his mind on this film at all. The advertisement for Mercedes-Benz had officially started production, and as the planner, he had been busy with that recently.

After all, they were a big client; he had already received his one million US dollars planning fee, and Zhao Fusheng didn't want to be criticized for taking the money without putting in the work.

Moreover, Zhao Fusheng knew that Zheng Yao placed great importance on this collaboration. If he didn't want Zheng Yao to come to his home to urge him to finish, he had better complete this planning as soon as possible.

Zhao Fusheng was very clear about his strengths and foundation. Although he had a handful of trump cards, they all had time limits. Perhaps one day, maybe soon, they would lose their effectiveness. After all, this was a parallel world, and no one could guarantee what would happen.

And Future Advertising was his foundation. As long as he still remembered in his mind the advertising campaigns that were once so familiar in his previous life, he would never fail.