Chapter 60: Lowering One's Own Standards

Since the words had already been spoken, the act must be carried through to the end.

To prevent Zhiping Chai from seeing through the ruse, after the meeting that day, Cheng Gu instructed Zhiling Lin to arrange meetings with several other record agencies and production companies in the industry, pretending to be considering many “backup options.” In reality, these negotiations were nothing but smoke and mirrors, a calculated move to pressure Zhiping Chai, to demonstrate, “My money can be invested in many places; there’s no need to hang it all on ‘Meteor Garden’.”

As expected, Zhiping Chai, who was preparing for the start of production, became nervous. Just a few days later, she urged Cheng Gu to quickly bring in the funds and pressed for the signing of the formal investment contract.

Cheng Gu didn’t have that much cash at hand; he only provided half a million as a deposit for the signing, helping the production team buy out the adaptation rights for “Boys Over Flowers” from the original author. After all, he still needed to reserve some funds to purchase Jay Zhou’s albums in January, and before Legend began charging, he was indeed short on working capital.

At that time, the usual pace for filming idol dramas was about one episode every three days. A twenty-episode series, excluding post-production, could be shot in about two months. Cheng Gu reasoned that since his investment only accounted for 45%, relying on Fulong Company’s own funds for a month or so of filming should be fine; if money ran short in the later stages, his funds could arrive then.

Never has any film crew needed to secure 100% of their funds before starting production, especially for projects with longer cycles. Staged funding is the norm—just like real estate developers, who often begin as soon as they have enough to secure the land.

But what seemed perfectly logical to Cheng Gu made Zhiping Chai uneasy. Perhaps she had been rattled by the smoke screens Cheng Gu had Lin Zhiling put up; she was convinced Cheng Gu was a fickle young man who could drop the deposit and jump ship for a better backup at any moment.

Thus, she delved deeper into Cheng Gu’s background as an investor.

“To think he rose from nothing in just a few months! I thought he was a second-generation rich kid, relying on family resources. And he spent a year and a half as a trainee in the Dongyi entertainment circle when he was young? No wonder he knows a thing or two about music and film…”

Surprised, another thought arose in Zhiping Chai’s mind: Since Cheng Gu isn’t a wealthy scion, nor a member of an elite family, and he was once a trainee, it means his elders wouldn’t restrict him from entering show business...

Might he consider personally “diving in” to experience it? Like a well-off young man seeking a taste of life.

Of course, Zhiping Chai would never dare entertain such thoughts about Cheng Gu—he was an investor, not a pretty boy. She only wanted some reassurance, to bind Cheng Gu more closely to the “Meteor Garden” project.

...

With this resolve, two days later Zhiping Chai visited Cheng Gu again, naturally at his company.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, she laid her thoughts bare.

She began with a tactful question to test the waters: “Mr. Gu, you’ve gone through the script carefully, haven’t you?”

Cheng Gu replied honestly, “Of course, I’ve read the script.”

Zhiping Chai thought, Good, now we can talk: “It was my oversight last time—I didn’t realize you had such talent. A top trainee at S-M Company in Dongyi, you must be far better than any newcomer I could find. Would you be interested in... trying out the role of Hanazawa Rui, the second male lead?”

Cheng Gu was astonished, as if he’d heard an amusing joke.

In two lifetimes, he had never imagined someone would invite him to star in a television drama. He was used to standing behind the scenes, investing and reaping profits—experiences he’d had countless times in his previous life; observing and advising, many times as well; but as for personally taking the stage, at most, like Director Feng and others, he’d occasionally cameo for fun.

He’d eaten plenty of pork, but never watched the pig run.

Now Zhiping Chai was asking him to act in an idol drama?

Cheng Gu’s expression cooled. “Aunt Chai, do you think I’m unreliable, afraid I’ll pull out my investment?”

“No, not at all. I genuinely believe in your talent,” Zhiping Chai explained earnestly, laying out her reasoning for the casting: “You trained at S-M Company. I have friends in Dongyi, and I’ve heard about your background. Not only did you study singing and dancing, but you also learned acting. You must be better than anyone I can find. As for offering you the second lead, it’s absolutely not because I doubt your ability, but because the role suits you—Hanazawa Rui’s character is a bit autistic and aloof. Domyoji is too domineering and extroverted, which would detract from your temperament.”

Cheng Gu began to believe she was sincere and had done her homework, even if her original motive was still to keep him from finding another project and withdrawing his investment.

“To personally act in a drama... it might not be impossible. I’m young, energetic, and it would be a chance to experience the production process of this era, gain some experience for future business. But isn’t the idol drama format a bit lowbrow?”

Idol dramas were considered by insiders to have the lowest artistic value; Cheng Gu had to give it a bit of thought.

But then he remembered: his assets, in name, were only seven or eight million; the rest had been leveraged through bank financing at high debt ratios, and a large portion had already been spent on promotion.

After deducting debts, his net assets were not much.

Such a person acting in a drama wouldn't really be seen as degrading himself, would he? Even top film stars with assets over a hundred million still acted.

Cheng Gu’s thoughts stirred.

As a life experience, it would help his future integration into the industry; after all, he would still be only seventeen when filming ended. Youth—what’s there to not try?

Better to try now than wait until he’s worth a billion and then attempt it—at that point, acting in a drama really would lower his status. Even cameo appearances would have to be Oscar-level films, otherwise he couldn’t easily step in.

Cheng Gu compromised: “How about this, give me two days to think about it. I have a lot on my plate—I need to check if my team’s schedule allows. When do you plan to start shooting?”

Zhiping Chai answered promptly, “As long as your funds are in place, we’ll start on December 1st. After filming the first fifteen episodes, we’ll break for New Year’s. After returning, we’ll spend another month on post-production, and wrap up for release in March.”

“Alright, there’s still more than a week before the shoot, give me two days. I’ll return to the mainland to handle some matters and prepare for the role. But if you switch the actors’ roles at the last minute, can they handle it?”

Zhiping Chai answered, almost shamelessly, “No problem, they’re all newcomers, none of them have any acting skills, so it doesn’t matter who plays whom.”

Heh! Cheng Gu thought, How did that bunch with no acting talent even become famous in history? Sometimes, fate is unstoppable.

...

After agreeing, Cheng Gu bought a ticket to Hujiang that very day, then took a car home.

Since he might be absent from the company’s front-line management for a month or two, Cheng Gu at least had to make some arrangements to steady the staff.

Most importantly, he needed to consult with his cousin who was holding the fort domestically, to see if she could manage the situation at Legend Entertainment.

Though all major decisions at Legend Entertainment were made by Cheng Gu remotely, the daily management and handling of unexpected events alone were enough to keep Jieying Pan busy. It was said she had barely attended any MBA classes in the past month, and only avoided expulsion thanks to lenient instructors.

Seeing her cousin return after more than half a month, Jieying Pan was naturally delighted, as if all her exhaustion melted away. With him there, she had a pillar to lean on.

To suppress his own guilt, Cheng Gu didn’t immediately discuss the drama with his cousin. Instead, he spent an entire day working tirelessly, clearing out accumulated business and reviewing the company’s operations.

He was gratified to see that the “Internet Cafe Owner Recharge System” test version and upgrade tool had both been developed.

Led by Jiawei Gan and his team of “street promotion maniacs,” the marketing group had swept through internet cafes across more than a hundred cities nationwide in just a month, recruiting over 8,000 cafes willing to install the system.

This achievement was made by Legend Entertainment’s five salespeople, with twenty core promoters temporarily borrowed from Alibaba, plus multiple times that number in local secondary sales staff. (Ahem—not pyramid selling, just outsourced agents with local resources working on commission.)

Each street promotion team, on average, recruited over 300 internet cafes in a month—ten per day.

Legend spent 1.2 million yuan in commissions for these 8,000 cafes.

Considering that in 2000, there were just over 20,000 legally registered internet cafes nationwide, this clever move by Legend meant nearly one-third of all legitimate cafes were now part of its recharge system. And this was only after one month; with five more weeks to go before the official launch, it was possible to secure more than half of all legitimate cafes. (Of course, given the national situation, there were even more illegal cafes than legitimate ones.)

Cheng Gu was relieved to have recruited Jiawei Gan, the future top “O2O street promotion maniac,” and more grateful to have connected with Boss Ma during the winter lull, borrowing Alibaba’s unmatched street promotion resources for his own use.

Without these two conditions, he had no idea how much more time and money it would have taken to execute this plan.

By comparison, further optimization of Legend’s beta code, data sorting, server maintenance, and stress testing...

Cheng Gu wasn’t too worried about these tasks.

Legend’s strength lay in market positioning and promotion; the software itself wasn’t very challenging.

After a full day of relentless work, Cheng Gu’s guilt toward his cousin eased.

So, the next evening, after the family had dinner, Cheng Gu called Jieying Pan into his bedroom for a heart-to-heart.

“Jie... I don’t know how to say this. You’ve been working so hard lately while I’ve been away—are you tired?”

Jieying Pan reclined gently on the sofa, gazing at the starry sky outside the window. After a moment’s thought, she replied, “Have you come up with another new business idea? Can’t you finish one thing before starting another? You keep stretching the company’s cash flow so thin—I’m afraid you’ll give me a heart attack one of these days.”

“This time, you guessed wrong. It’s not about business... well, although it could be considered business.”