Since it was already late and exercise couldn't be delayed, all meetings were scheduled for the next day.
The first to meet were obviously old acquaintances—Xu Zheng and Huang Bo, who brought people along. It was perfectly normal for small circles to band together.
This time, they were seeking investment for the up-and-coming director Ning Hao. Normally, a director like him wouldn't lack investors, given his track record of successes. But Zhou You's reputation was hard to ignore: first, he put in money without meddling; second, he had incredible luck, with every project becoming a massive hit. Besides, bringing in more investors helped spread the risk.
The venue was conveniently close—they borrowed Miao Xia's facility, which also served as indirect promotion for her. Miao Xia was delighted and set aside a room for their discussions.
There wasn't much to talk about, really. Ning Hao's films rarely flopped. But everyone came out of admiration; many in the film industry viewed Zhou You the way outsiders viewed celebrities, believing he had the Midas touch.
Xu Zheng rubbed his bald head. "Zhou, you've been raking it in lately. Everyone says if you want to invest, go to Zhou—if he invests, it's a sure win!"
Huang Bo grinned widely, his face crinkling with wrinkles. "Brother You, I've always remembered your promise to invest in my movie. Don't forget when the time comes."
Ning Hao was quiet, not saying much, just watching the three of them chat and occasionally chiming in.
Zhou You couldn't stand the small talk and cut to the chase. "Director Ning, is this another comedy?"
"Sort of, with a bit of dark humor," Ning Hao replied. Directors' interpretations always differed from audiences'.
"What's it about?"
"The story's a bit cliché—a middle-aged man down on his luck, friends taking him on a wild trip across the country, with all sorts of antics along the way, including running into a beautiful woman." Most movies boiled down to the same thing: a different shell, different people, different plot twists.
Humanity had been like that for millennia—love, hate, revenge, family, national affairs. It was just a revolving door of players and changing banners.
"Alright, what's the total budget, and how much do you need?" After dealing with film investments for so long, Zhou You had lost interest; it was more fun discovering new musicians.
Ning Hao, dealing with Zhou You for the first time, was a bit taken aback by his directness. But seeing Huang Bo and Xu Zheng smiling, he realized the perks of Zhou as an investor: few words, plenty of money, no interference.
"Not much, it's a low-budget film—around 30 million, no more than 40 million. A few others are investing too. Can you take a 10 million share?" Ning Hao had made a film about a desolate area years ago that never got released, leaving investors in the red. Then he turned things around with *Crazy Racer* and *The Golden Case*, or else no one would have dared invest.
"Done. Xu and Huang know this—my mentor has a daughter in the industry. I'll need a role for her when the time comes." Zhou You didn't hesitate. Profit was profit, big or small, and idle hands were wasted.
Ning Hao was still dazed, looking at Huang Bo: That's it? Done? Success?
Huang Bo nodded frantically.
A few other acquaintances were also coming by, having arranged times indirectly. Zhou You stood up, signaling the meeting was over.
After handshakes all around, Huang Bo, Xu Zheng, and Ning Hao walked out beaming.
Once they left, the next group arrived—Teng Huatao with his people.
"Zhou, you're still in top form!" Teng Huatao greeted him warmly before diving into the details.
A director Zhou You had never heard of was introduced, but he patiently listened for a bit.
"The plot's about an orphan who uncovers his parents' story, only to find they're descendants of grave robbers—just riding the grave-robbing trend."
Seeing Zhou You's lack of reaction, he added, "We've even specially invited Guo Degang to act in it."
Zhou You couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath. That took some nerve. Forget everything else—just having Guo Degang was a disaster waiting to happen. You could count the films he'd been in, lead or supporting or cameo, and every single one flopped.
Zhou You's expression shifted despite himself. Helplessly, he said, "Sorry, I've invested in too many projects lately and funds are a bit tight. Maybe we can collaborate another time!"
That was a polite refusal.
As they left, Zhou You pulled Teng Huatao aside. Out of gratitude for introducing a teacher to Sun Li, he couldn't help but warn, "You didn't invest in this one, did you? If you did, pull out now. Don't tell your friend!"
Teng Huatao walked away baffled, but he took Zhou You's words to heart and never got involved in that film.
Still, it reminded Zhou You that he hadn't yet seen Guo Degang perform live. Guo was at his peak now—it would be a shame to miss it. Back when Zhou You couldn't sleep at night, he'd listen to Guo and Yu Qian's crosstalk to drift off. They'd accompanied him through countless nights. Now that he had the chance, buying a few extra tickets was only right.
When he was restless, his mind would wander, and he'd get tense, unable to relax. Listening to Guo's crosstalk, he'd slowly sink into it, his body and mind naturally unwinding, his breathing slowing, and he'd fall asleep with a few happy laughs before bed.
Two meetings in the morning, two in the afternoon.
Truth be told, negotiating these projects was exhausting—mostly mentally draining. Zhou You had to run through his memory to see if anything rang a bell.
The afternoon's two groups were actually one, with some crossover people. And both were new directors, trying to milk Zhou You for all he was worth.
Deng Chao and Han Han both wanted to make films and came to Zhou You for investment. Who else would dare invest? The odds were too risky. They'd been turned down everywhere and ended up at Zhou You's as a last resort. If this failed, they'd have to fund it themselves.
They'd already sunk their own money into it, gritting their teeth, and it had surprisingly paid off.
Deng Chao was a decent guy and a good actor, naturally funny. Later, he'd hit the variety show circuit, unleashing his true nature and racing down the path of comedy, never looking back. That's when everyone realized his shows were great—he could command the stage and connect with the audience, with decent ratings, unlike his awkward film performances. But every gain came with a loss; variety shows paid too fast, so he stopped thinking about films.
Han Han was a seasoned literary youth, having made a few films that appealed to the middle class, reaping both fame and fortune.
Zhou You listened briefly to their plot outlines and cast plans, asked about their needs, and knew exactly which films they were talking about.
Deng Chao's had terrible reviews but made real money. Han Han's had both good reviews and box office success. Both were low-budget films, around 30 million.
Zhou You invested 10 million in each, as usual, and requested a supporting female role, sending Shi Wenxiu out.
As for Shi Wenxiu juggling multiple sets—was she tired? Kidding? She'd be thrilled!