Chapter 27: The Damn Critics and the Damn Scribblers

Yu Wei looked back at the small house. The few days of cohabitation had left him feeling unexpectedly reluctant to leave.

Of course, he did not enjoy having his life scrutinized, but he did enjoy the atmosphere created by the show—a group of young people with distinct personalities living together; it was never dull. This was a feeling Yu Wei, who had lived alone in a rented apartment in his previous life, had never experienced.

"Teacher Zhong, here is my rent."

Teacher Zhong Qing was a respected veteran artist of both high moral standing and artistic achievement. A stage actress by trade, she had dedicated herself to the film industry since the last century. Having never married, she had essentially devoted her entire life to the domestic entertainment industry.

Because Yu Wei had performed his new song on the show, the "remuneration" offered by the production team was quite generous—a full five game tokens. The rent was only two tokens, so the remaining three were essentially left for him as a souvenir. Of course, this was just the compensation within the scope of the program; actual commercial collaborations would only begin today, and Sister Liu would likely be quite busy.

"Yes, I have it."

The elderly Mrs. Zhong took the game tokens, squinting as she looked the young man up and down. *He looks so much like him… really so much like him.* She had been present for the sudden incident last night and had naturally listened to the entirety of Yu Wei's song afterward. In him, Zhong Qing saw the shadow of someone she had once known. That man had been just as talented and unshakably confident, especially in the way he remained composed in the face of adversity—it was as if they had been cast from the same mold.

"Teacher, you..."

Even as dull as Yu Wei could be, he could sense that something was off with Teacher Zhong. Her gaze seemed to be looking back through the years, murky and unfocused.

"I was reminded of someone." Zhong Qing did not beat around the bush, offering a bitter, slightly apologetic smile. "More than forty years ago, there was someone just like you—confident and capable. How I miss him..."

Yu Wei roughly knew who she was talking about. He had looked into this person on his very first day here—the man who had changed the world line single-handedly and was the culprit behind the entertainment industry veering onto a parallel track.

There was a lingering smile hidden in Teacher Zhong's cloudy eyes, along with too many unspoken words, lonely and uncontrollable. To meet such a person in one's prime—was "breathtaking" even enough to describe it? Yu Wei saw it, but he felt it was inappropriate to ask. She was a venerable artist; prying into her romantic history felt like overstepping. He wondered what kind of relationship Teacher Zhong had with that person.

"I'm getting old. Once I start reminiscing, it's easy to get lost in it. Sigh." Zhong Qing sighed, then noticed Yu Wei’s growing curiosity. She smiled, adding, "Those two young girls in the house—aren't they just reflections of my old self?"

The statement was blunt, but Yu Wei found it hard to handle. It wasn't quite the same, was it? Even if he were to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with that legend one day, surely Tong Yulu and Chi Leying wouldn't end up...

Zhong Qing didn't intend to continue the conversation. She simply waved goodbye to Yu Wei with a soft look in her eyes. *Though the person is gone, the shadow remains.*

The recording of the show had finally come to a complete end. Yu Wei glanced back at the small house one last time. Intuition told him he would see these people again.

...

"Look at you. You changed your mind, and now look—the fruit has been snatched away by someone else, hasn't it?"

Wu Qi paced back and forth in front of Qi Yuan, gritting her teeth. She still couldn't understand why he had suddenly backed out of the agreement. Not only had he offended the production team, but he hadn't gained any favor with the company, either. She had just heard that the show invitation they had rejected had been snatched up by Yu Wei. She didn't want to see Yu Wei benefit from anything, let alone this! If he really made a name for himself, wouldn't it be even harder to leverage favors and connections against him? Beyond that, Wu Qi genuinely harbored a spiteful desire to see others fail—it was human nature, after all, and she had never thought much of that kid Yu Wei.

"Your teammate is busy making a name for himself, and you're just sitting here..."

"Enough!"

Qi Yuan finally lost his patience and interrupted her. Under normal circumstances, a young idol like him wouldn't dare speak to an experienced manager this way, but Wu Qi was genuinely startled by his tone and obediently shut her mouth. There was no helping it; she didn't dare provoke his background.

Qi Yuan let out a long breath and sat on the sofa, saying nothing more. He didn't regret giving up the variety show, but he hadn't expected Yu Wei to be the one to take his place. Wasn't he the type to focus solely on creative work? How could he participate in a vanity fair like a variety show? This wasn't what he had expected at all! Could it be that after writing one song, he had let the fame get to his head?

The thought flashed by, but a look of genuine pity soon crossed Qi Yuan's eyes. What a shame. If he could have continued to focus on his craft, he would have been a formidable rival. But now... he would have to find a way to persuade Yu Wei to return to his original intentions. Someone with such talent shouldn't lose his way.

...

"Achoo."

Yu Wei had barely stepped into his home when a sudden sneeze caught him off guard. *Was I infected by Zhou Mumu?* That couldn't be right; even Fei Hong hadn't caught it, so would it be appropriate for him to be the one who did? Fortunately, Yu Wei didn't feel any physical discomfort. It was probably just an itchy nose, or perhaps someone was badmouthing him.

"Time to write!"

Yu Wei couldn't wait to open his computer. Just a moment ago, he had an audacious idea. Theoretically, he could perfectly master any Earth-based entertainment work that appeared in his novel. If that applied to songs, what about film and television? If he wrote a movie, would "perfect mastery" mean he could fully grasp the script and the performance?

Yu Wei was itching to try. As it happened, the plot of his novel was reaching the point where he should enter the film and television industry. Readers wouldn't pay for just songs forever; it might be better to film a movie to refresh their minds. In the genre of entertainment novels, this was a common narrative progression. After all, a dual-threat artist who mastered both music and film had a higher ceiling and more room for development.

"Which film should I write?"

As someone writing an entertainment industry novel, Yu Wei had seen plenty of examples. Aside from the overused *Legend of Sword and Fairy* tropes, there were many who started with low-budget films like *Buried*. He had even seen protagonists who, with a makeshift crew, filmed *Mao Pian*, which was reasonable and quite innovative.

"Wei Yu is just a hack critic; what does he know about filmmaking?" Yu Wei rubbed his temples. Even when writing a novel, one couldn't skip steps. If the protagonist started shouting about filming movies and TV shows after just two songs, how could that be realistic? He was just a hack writer; what did he know about the industry? Even if he produced a script and handled writing, directing, and acting himself, wouldn't finding investors and other actors take time and effort? Entertainment novels often oversimplified things. As the saying goes, "Different professions are like mountains apart." If the protagonist didn't prove himself, it would be hard to convince the audience.

Was there a short film, preferably one full of suspense and eye-catching, that wouldn't be too difficult to shoot? There actually was one. Yu Wei immediately thought of *The Piano Tuner*. It was fourteen minutes long and had won the Best Short Film award at international film festivals. Later, a foreign film had been adapted from this short, and it, too, had won the award for Best Asian Film.

*Kill two birds with one stone.* He would write that.