Chapter Sixty-Two: Chen Qi’s Potential

After spending nearly an hour watching all ten episodes, Zhao Qingqing, the purchasing manager, looked at Chen Qi with a face full of astonishment, unable to hide the wonder in her eyes.

Such vivid imagination and exaggerated expression—this could only be found among the younger generation.

Meeting her amazed gaze, Chen Qi merely smiled, calm and unruffled within.

He knew the show was excellent; otherwise, he would not have brought it out.

“The ending credits say you wrote and directed this yourself?” Zhao Qingqing asked.

“Yes,” Chen Qi nodded, his composure unbroken.

“And you hold all the rights?”

“Yes,” he affirmed once more.

“Is there a sequel?” Like Hong Youcheng from Youyou Video, Zhao Qingqing was very interested in this.

“No.”

“Do you have plans to make one?”

Chen Qi shook his head.

Seeing this, Zhao Qingqing simply nodded thoughtfully, her expression unreadable. After a few seconds of contemplation, she asked, “How much do you plan to sell this series for? Do you have a price in mind?”

“I’m new to this industry, so I’m not too familiar with the going rates…” Chen Qi laughed, appearing a bit embarrassed as he glanced her way.

To his surprise, Zhao Qingqing didn’t show any particular reaction. After another brief pause, she suddenly stood up.

“Please wait here for a moment while I consult with my superiors. I want to get you the best possible price. Would that be all right?”

Chen Qi was a little taken aback—was she really a purchasing manager? Could she not even make a decision on such a small production? Or was she truly trying to offer a price higher than the market standard?

Though these thoughts crossed his mind, his face revealed nothing. He simply nodded with a polite smile.

Zhao Qingqing said no more. After a brief farewell, she strode quickly out.

“Keep an eye on that gentleman. If he tries to leave, stall him and notify me immediately.” Outside the office, she gave rapid instructions before hurrying toward the elevators, her steps quick and urgent.

If it weren’t for her high heels, she might have broken into a run.

As she walked, she swiftly pulled out her phone and sent Chen Qi’s name and some key words to the HR department. Then she dialed their number.

“This is urgent—I need all available information on this person within ten minutes!”

Without waiting for a response, she hung up and immediately dialed another number.

“Find me everything you can about Future Films, as detailed as possible, right away!”

Again, she hung up before getting a reply. Entering the elevator and pressing the executive floor, she called a subordinate.

“Xiao Zhang, what else do you know about Chen Qi?”

This Xiao Zhang was the one who had told her that morning that Chen Qi might be the same person who created the “Washing Mom’s Feet” public service ad.

Just as Chen Qi had guessed, learning this had prompted her to come in person, and she was rewarded with a pleasant surprise.

“What? He did the KUKU phone ad too? The ‘five minutes charging, two hours talk time’ one?”

“Anything else?”

“All right, I understand.”

“Ding!”

As she hung up, the elevator arrived at its destination.

She strode straight to the office marked “General Manager” and knocked.

“Come in,” a middle-aged man’s voice called from within.

“Mr. He.” Zhao Qingqing entered, her tone urgent. “I’ve just discovered a remarkable new series.”

Mr. He, busy with something, merely glanced at her, waiting for her to continue.

“But compared to the show, I believe the person behind it is even more valuable. If we can secure a long-term collaboration with him, we might even reclaim the market share we’ve lost.” Zhao Qingqing stood before his desk, her gaze intense.

“Oh?” At this, Mr. He paused his work and leaned back in his chair, settling in to listen.

Zhao Qingqing said nothing more; instead, she opened a video on her phone and handed it over.

It was the “Washing Mom’s Feet” public service advertisement.

“I’ve seen this before,” Mr. He remarked.

“It was made by a man named Chen Qi. The series I mentioned was also produced by him—he’s waiting downstairs right now.” Zhao Qingqing spoke rapidly, pressed for time.

“It’s a quality ad, but it’s just an ad. That doesn’t prove much.” He smiled at her.

“He did it all on his own.” Zhao Qingqing deliberately emphasized the word “alone.”

“That’s not enough,” Mr. He shook his head.

Even if he created it single-handedly, a single success doesn’t prove lasting talent.

“You must have seen the latest, very catchy KUKU mobile ad? That was his idea too.”

Mr. He paused, “The one about ‘five minutes charging, two hours talk time’?”

“That’s the one!” Zhao Qingqing nodded. “He made that as his second project at Blueprint. You might not believe it, but he only worked at Blueprint for one week. In those seven days, he independently completed two major projects and helped Blueprint through two significant crises.”

“This caused quite a stir in the advertising world at the time.”

“It sounds incredible, right? But there’s more. Right after finishing the KUKU phone ad, he resigned. No one knows why.”

“That very day, many agencies tried to poach him with high salaries, but he turned them all down—flatly refused.”

Mr. He glanced at her and asked, “So you think he left to make films?”

“Yes!” Zhao Qingqing nodded. “I did the math. It’s only been a month since he left Blueprint, and in that time, he’s produced a series I find fascinating. It’s short, but full of imagination!”

“Even more impressive, I checked carefully: he’s the director, composer, and the only writer.”

At last, a trace of surprise flickered in Mr. He’s eyes.

“Who produced this series?” he asked.

“He founded his own studio, which is one of the producers. The other is a company called Future Films. I’m not familiar with them and haven’t found any detailed information yet.”

Mr. He looked at her. “You really believe in him?”

“Yes,” Zhao Qingqing admitted. “I think he has great potential. I strongly recommend the company pursue a long-term partnership. I can’t say more for now, but he absolutely has the ability to create high-quality content.”

Mr. He thought for a moment. “Very well, do as you see fit. You’re about to be promoted to content director—you’ll have authority to develop your own resources.”

“You agree?” Zhao Qingqing’s face lit up with joy.

Mr. He nodded. “Go talk to him. Handle negotiations as you think best. Once you’ve reached an agreement, give me a detailed proposal and budget. As long as the numbers aren’t outrageous, I’ll approve it.”

“Thank you, Mr. He!” Zhao Qingqing was overjoyed.

“But let me remind you—if your judgment is wrong and we suffer significant losses, you’ll be responsible.”

“I understand!” Zhao Qingqing smiled.

“All right, off you go,” Mr. He waved her away.

“Thank you, Mr. He.” Zhao Qingqing expressed her gratitude again and hurried out.

As she waited for the elevator, her phone chimed with a text message.

Future Films’ information had been found.

“Future Films was just registered. The legal representative is Xu Bunian. No works yet.”

“Xu Bunian?!” Reading the name, Zhao Qingqing’s eyes widened in shock.

She hadn’t expected that Chen Qi’s collaborator would be Xu Bunian!

Blueprint and their company had frequent dealings; she was no stranger to his name.

Instantly, she was puzzled.

She had heard about Xu Bunian’s resignation, but she hadn’t realized he’d joined forces with Chen Qi.

Even stranger: since he was a co-producer, why hadn’t he just called her directly? That would have saved so much trouble, and the price might even have been better.

Unless…

She suddenly recalled the credits of “Never Expected.”

All the core roles were handled by Chen Qi, and his studio was listed first among the producers.

Clearly, Chen Qi was the driving force behind this project.

With this in mind, Zhao Qingqing had a bold guess.

Could it be that Xu Bunian, like her, recognized Chen Qi’s talent and value, and left his job because of it?

Such boldness!

No—she had to call and confirm.

She quickly found Xu Bunian’s number and dialed.

“Manager Zhao?” The call was answered promptly, and Xu Bunian sounded genuinely surprised to hear from her.

“Mr. Xu, did you and Chen Qi collaborate on ‘Never Expected’?” With no time for pleasantries, Zhao Qingqing went straight to the point.

“Uh… not really a collaboration, per se,” Xu Bunian replied with a sheepish laugh, giving her a quick rundown of the situation.

Though he wasn’t sure why she’d called, he could guess she had something in mind, so he shamelessly sang Chen Qi’s praises.

Of course, he told the honest truth: Chen Qi had made it all on his own, and he was only listed as a producer for promotional purposes—he hadn’t done anything else.

During the call, Zhao Qingqing couldn’t help but ask about his resignation.

Xu Bunian candidly admitted that it was because of Chen Qi.

Hearing this—despite having already suspected as much—Zhao Qingqing was still taken aback.

At that moment, her determination only grew stronger.

Leaving the elevator, she hurried back toward the office where Chen Qi was waiting.

Just before reaching the door, another text came in: Chen Qi’s basic information had been found.

Zhao Qingqing glanced at it quickly, then entered the office with a smile.