Chapter Ninety-Seven: He Had a Condition

Looking at the list of five companies, Chen Qi arranged them in order of preference for contact. Just as he was about to call them to discuss potential collaboration, a knock sounded from outside.

Anticipating something, Chen Qi quickly got up and went out. A man with flowing long hair and a scruffy beard stood at the door, surveying the company. He was still wearing slippers, shorts, and a t-shirt... Yes, a truly uninhibited and free-spirited outfit!

“I’m Zhou Xiao,” the man introduced himself, extending his right hand as soon as Chen Qi appeared.

“Hello, I’m Chen Qi.” Chen Qi stepped forward quickly and shook his hand.

As they shook hands, both silently evaluated each other.

Well... how to put it.

Chen Qi immediately doubted the reliability of the information he’d found online! With his appearance, not even thirty? He’d believe it if someone said forty! Are all artists this unconventional?

“Please, come in!” Chen Qi stepped aside and gestured invitingly.

Zhou Xiao didn’t stand on ceremony; he nodded lightly and strode inside.

“Have a seat.” Guiding him to the sofa, Chen Qi poured him a cup of tea, saying as he did so, “Director Zhou, I wonder how you’ve been lately...”

To his surprise, Zhou Xiao brusquely interrupted as soon as he opened his mouth, “Director Chen, I can see you’re not one for formalities either. Let’s skip the pleasantries and get straight to business!”

“...” Chen Qi swallowed the words he’d almost spoken.

He liked this straightforward personality! But how did Zhou Xiao see that he wasn’t one for formalities? Was it “Never Expected”?

“All right!” Chen Qi abandoned the awkward formalities he himself found uncomfortable, grabbed the outline script from the table, tossed it over, and asked, “Will you shoot it?”

“...” Zhou Xiao fumbled to catch it, stunned.

He felt a bit unwell! Sure, he’d said no formalities, but wasn’t this a bit too direct? This... I...

He looked at Chen Qi in amazement, suddenly thinking that maybe a little politeness wasn’t so bad.

“???” Chen Qi shot him an inquisitive glance.

Receiving the signal, Zhou Xiao recovered, feeling a little awkward as he opened the script.

Chen Qi’s blunt approach had thrown off his rhythm.

He glanced at the title.

“Unknown People.”

Such an ordinary name.

Instinct told him it was likely a comedy. His experience had taught him that randomly switching genres was a recipe for disaster!

Honestly, after seeing “Never Expected,” he was curious about Chen Qi’s script. Though it wasn’t credited, he guessed it was Chen Qi’s own work.

The plot and presentation of “Never Expected,” as well as the product placement in the second season, had opened a new world for him, invigorating his once stagnant thoughts.

Lost in these messy thoughts, he turned the page.

He unconsciously bit his lip.

What lay before him was a simple synopsis-style script. How simple? It didn’t even fill an A4 page.

Just a bit more detailed than movie synopses you’d find online.

Zhou Xiao took two minutes to finish reading it, then fell into deep thought.

That half-page had laid out the framework and basic storyline of the whole story.

For a moment, he didn’t know what to say.

From the moment he sat on that sofa, the direction of events had completely deviated from his expectations.

He had thought they would discuss the collaboration for at least three to five rounds...

“Um... cough...” Zhou Xiao cleared his throat uncomfortably and asked, “Is this script unfinished or...?”

“There’s a detailed script, but I only prepared one copy, which President Xu took earlier. What you have is something I put together on the spot. Oh, President Xu is the owner of the company, his name is Xu Bu Nian.”

Zhou Xiao’s expression brightened as he asked, “So you’re hoping I’ll direct this film?”

“Yes,” Chen Qi nodded.

“Why don’t you direct it yourself?” Zhou Xiao was puzzled.

“My current abilities aren’t enough to handle a project this big,” Chen Qi replied naturally.

Zhou Xiao paused for a moment.

He hadn’t expected such a candid answer.

After a few seconds of silence, he asked, “You should know my situation, right?”

“Yes, I’ve heard, but I don’t know if it’s true.”

“...” Zhou Xiao’s mouth twitched slightly, then he tried to speak calmly: “Just as the reports say, since my last film, I’ve been out of work for a long time.”

“That’s perfect then. If you take on this film, you can start shooting right away—no need to wait for a schedule.”

Zhou Xiao: “...”

That was another unexpected reply.

He hesitated.

What was he going to ask? Oh, funding!

“Have you secured the investment?” he asked.

“More or less. We have our own investment, and the rest we can raise as we shoot.”

“What’s the budget?”

“Uh... twenty or thirty million, roughly.” Chen Qi was a bit embarrassed to admit he didn’t know for sure.

Though he didn’t know the exact amount needed, he could give a ballpark figure.

Hearing this, Zhou Xiao fell silent again. After a while, he spoke: “Why choose me?”

That was what puzzled him most.

Other investors avoided him, even when he brought scripts to their door. Since his last film failed, Chen Qi was the first to approach him for collaboration. This unconventional approach was hard for him to adjust to.

He worried the other party had ulterior motives. But thinking it over, he didn’t seem to have anything valuable left.

He had nothing to lose.

Would they swindle his last few bucks?

Impossible—they’d already said the investment was secured. Besides, how much money did he even have?

Listening to Zhou Xiao’s question, Chen Qi smiled and answered with utmost seriousness, “I’ve seen your films. I have great confidence in your ability and fully believe you can make this film a success.”

“That’s it?” Zhou Xiao looked at him, half skeptical.

“That’s it!” Chen Qi nodded firmly.

Zhou Xiao frowned at him, sensing something was off.

It just didn’t make sense!

There were so many good directors in the industry, yet he sought out someone who’d been forced out for nearly a year? It defied common sense!

Honestly, he came today without any expectations, not even bothering to dress up.

“Are you not worried I’ll mess it up?” Zhou Xiao’s expression was confused.

“No,” Chen Qi glanced at him, meaningfully, “Compared to us, I think you’re more eager to make this film succeed.”

Zhou Xiao was startled, then silent again.

This time, his silence lasted even longer.

Yes, more than anyone, he wanted to make another work that at least met the mark.

He was desperate to prove his ability, to bring those who had avoided him back into his view.

Having fallen, he was desperate to rise again!

After a long while, he looked up at Chen Qi, seriously saying, “I want to see the detailed script.”

He was eager for a chance to direct again, but not so desperate as to accept any script handed to him.

He wanted a comeback, not another failure. If he couldn’t recover this time, he’d likely never get another chance.

He couldn’t turn rubbish into gold. If the script was awful, even his best efforts would be useless.

“All right!” Chen Qi readily agreed, got up, and started working on his laptop.

Soon, the printer began to chatter.

Zhou Xiao: “...”

So much for ‘only one copy’!

So much for ‘prepared on the spot’!

Though speechless, he wasn’t particularly surprised.

Getting to know each other before deciding on deeper cooperation was reasonable—the detailed script was a confidential item, not something to show casually.

Before long, the detailed script was printed out by Chen Qi.

He bound it casually and handed it to Zhou Xiao.

Zhou Xiao didn’t stand on ceremony, took it, and began to read.

Chen Qi didn’t disturb him, quietly sitting opposite, lost in his own thoughts.

Who knows how much time passed. After roughly finishing the script, Zhou Xiao put it down.

He didn’t speak, seeming to be pondering something.

Chen Qi, who’d been watching him closely, didn’t urge him, patiently waiting.

After a while, Zhou Xiao finally spoke: “Are you sure you want me to direct it?”

Chen Qi nodded.

“Any conditions?” He looked straight at Chen Qi.

Anyone seeking a director as unwanted as him must have harsh terms. That was why Zhou Xiao had little hope.

He wasn’t sure he could accept such harsh, even unreasonable conditions.

But to his surprise, Chen Qi shook his head: “None.”

“None?” Zhou Xiao was shocked.

He could hardly believe it.

“None,” Chen Qi confirmed.

Zhou Xiao was dumbfounded.

He unconsciously straightened up, staring at Chen Qi with an utterly incredulous look.

How could this be?!

No conditions at all?

What’s his angle?

Chen Qi smiled sincerely.

Zhou Xiao gazed at him with a complicated expression for a while, then drew a deep breath and said, “I have a condition. If you agree, I’ll direct this film!”

He had no conditions, but Zhou Xiao did!

“Speak.”

“If I direct this film, I don’t want anyone interfering. In short, I want full say in all aspects of shooting!”

“No problem!” Chen Qi agreed without hesitation.

He knew Zhou Xiao was mostly speaking to him.

He was worried Chen Qi, as a director himself, might make immature suggestions during filming.

He had no objections; he wanted Zhou Xiao to have full control.

“In terms of shooting, you decide how and where—it’s up to you, as long as you don’t exceed the budget, everything is negotiable!”

“That condition needs to be written into the contract.”

“No problem!”

“All right, I’ll take the job!” Zhou Xiao quickly made his decision.

Chen Qi smiled, asking, “Shall we sign the contract then?”

“Sure.”

Next came the contract signing and discussion of details.

After more than an hour of busy work, they finally settled the contract.