Two films were shown in the morning, and Zhou You found himself wanting more. After all, with no pressure on him now, his mood was incredibly relaxed. He no longer saw watching these things as a waste of time but rather as a way to enrich himself.
At noon, Zhou You planned to treat Wang Le and the others to a meal. Unexpectedly, Zhao Yun ran over and said to him, "Mr. Zhou, the organizer of this documentary exhibition wants to treat you to lunch and invites you to join."
Zhou You thought for a moment and replied, "Let me host instead. It’s a good chance to exchange ideas. Invite all the directors participating in this event—it’s a great opportunity to get to know them."
Zhao Yun didn’t stand on ceremony and chuckled, "Alright, if you take the lead, no one will object. These directors are all waiting for your support." With that, Zhao Yun went off to spread the word.
Soon, a large crowd, led by Zhao Yun, approached Zhou You. He glanced over and saw mostly men—about seven or eight—and only two women. This line of work often required traveling alone, and it could be inconvenient for women at times. Even female directors usually had a male companion when filming on location.
As they drew closer, Zhao Yun began introducing them one by one. "This is Director Zhou Hao, also the organizer of this conference."
Zhou You extended his hand first. He had long admired Zhou Hao from afar but had never had the chance to meet him. "I’ve long heard of you. I’ve watched many of your documentaries and really enjoyed them. Finally meeting you in person is an honor."
Zhou Hao, well-traveled and experienced, had worked as a journalist for years and dealt with all kinds of people. Yet he genuinely admired Zhou You. "I’ve heard of your reputation too, Mr. Zhou. I’ve been meaning to ask Zhao Yun for an introduction, but I’ve been busy filming a documentary lately. This opportunity lets me meet the big investor in our documentary world."
"You’re too kind, Director Zhou. I’ve seen your works 'Brother Long' and 'The Police Station'—they’re fascinating," Zhou You said sincerely.
"From that, I can tell you’re a true documentary lover. In my opinion, the biggest charm of documentaries is that they’re interesting. And by interesting, I don’t just mean fun or funny—it’s that after watching, you feel society is wonderful, and everyone is wonderful too," Zhou Hao replied, delighted to meet someone who genuinely appreciated documentaries.
Seeing them deep in conversation, Zhao Yun quickly interrupted, "Let’s save the chat for lunch. I still have more introductions to make."
"This is Director Deng Zhong." "This is Director Zhang Yuanlong." "This is Director Zheng Qiong." ...
After the round of introductions, Zhou You was thrilled to meet so many directors. Xiao Bai, standing nearby, was stunned, thinking how impressive all these directors were. Little did he know that most of them were struggling financially. Wang Le, watching with interest, realized that Brother You was becoming more influential, but he had no idea that the issue wasn’t about status—it was about a lack of funding.
The group didn’t go far, finding a private room on campus. Once inside, Zhou You invited Zhou Hao to take the seat of honor, both out of respect and because he was the event’s organizer. Hosting an event could sometimes be more exhausting than filming a documentary, requiring endless coordination—especially for one that was purely a loss-making endeavor.
During the meal, Zhou You noticed a director still filming. "What’s this? Are we filming the whole meal?" he asked, a bit uncomfortable. But documentary directors often had a habit of recording anything that piqued their interest, including the exhibition itself, where someone was documenting everything.
"It’s mainly for archival footage. We’ll stop filming once we start eating," the filming director explained.
Zhou You had no objections but added, "I’m not used to being on camera. Let’s just record a bit for reference and then stop. During the meal, I’d like to share some personal thoughts and future plans."
Hearing this, the director turned off the camera.
"Since we’re all gathered here by chance, I truly admire each of you. I’ve watched many documentaries, especially Director Zhou’s. But we all know the current state of documentaries," Zhou You began, pausing to ensure everyone was listening intently.
"Earlier, I invested in a few documentaries, including Director Zhao Yun’s, though he hasn’t finished his yet." At this, everyone exchanged knowing smiles—some documentaries took years to complete.
"The one you’re most familiar with is probably 'A Bite of China.' More recently, I also invested in Director Chen Weijun’s documentary." This sparked quiet murmurs, as Director Chen was a veteran in the field.
"From what I understand, you all face two main challenges: first, funding for filming, and second, distribution channels after completion. I have some ideas to address these. For funding, I plan to set up a documentary production fund specifically to support your work."
At this, several directors couldn’t help but applaud—Zhou You had hit on their deepest concerns. After letting the excitement settle, he continued, "Beyond that, I’ve invested in a few companies. I’m not sure how big they’ll become, but they’ll definitely venture into the video industry. If your documentaries comply with national laws and regulations, they’ll get priority for release."
The directors grew even more excited—this was like rain after a long drought. Previously, everyone had to rely on their own resources, whether dipping into savings or selling houses, only to have their work go unnoticed, a lonely labor of love that couldn’t last. Now, Zhou You’s willingness to support the industry was a huge boon. Even without concrete details yet, his past investments were convincing enough.
Zhou Hao hadn’t expected such a pleasant surprise. "I’m an old hand in the documentary world, having filmed for years and endured all the hardships. With my resources and connections, even I find it tough to push things forward."
Seeing the growing excitement, Zhou You felt compelled to temper it. "We need to take things step by step. The filming environment won’t improve overnight. I can only do my best to drive this forward."
"But you might not know—my day job is as a university professor, and I hate complications." Zhou You was willing to put up money, but not his time or energy—he didn’t want to get bogged down.
Thank you all for your support—we’re back on the recommendation list. Much appreciated.