Chapter 220: Bro, What’s Your Secret?
Yang Mi eventually found out what was in that room.
When Zhou You first got his hands on it, he chose this as his office precisely because of the setup inside. The outer area was for work, while inside there was a large bedroom with its own bathroom and shower. Back then, Zhou You just figured it’d be convenient for washing up after training, and if he got lazy, he could even take a nap. He never imagined it would come in handy like this—it was an unexpected bonus.
With a ceiling height of six meters and solid materials, the soundproofing was leagues better than any high-rise building. You couldn’t hear a thing from above, below, or the sides—a hidden corner indeed.
Having taken his reward, he still had to get the work done. Holding a few scripts he’d picked out, he helped Yang Mi sit up, propping her against the headboard, and pointed at them. “Scripts like *Parents’ Love*, *The Battle of Beiping*, *Fleet of Time*, and *Battle of Changsha* are pretty good—I’m optimistic about these. The others might be decent too, but I probably won’t invest in them.”
Yang Mi leaned back on the bed, watching Zhou You’s vigorous, energetic demeanor, and asked in a hoarse voice, “President Zhou, what’s your secret to being so amazing?”
Zhou You was taken aback. What did she mean? Trying to find my weak spot? But it didn’t matter if he told her—it wasn’t like anyone else could pull it off anyway. He replied very seriously, “It’s because I have a great physique and scientific training, especially in sparring and wrestling, which have massively boosted my strength and endurance. That’s how I’m unbeatable!”
Yang Mi’s chest ached at his words. She couldn’t hold herself up anymore and slumped to the side. Who asked you about that? You’re amazing, so what? You proud of yourself?
Biting back the urge to curse, she asked again, “President Zhou, I meant what’s your trick for picking scripts?”
“Oh, you were asking about that? I thought you wanted to get fit too,” Zhou You said, suddenly enlightened.
Instead of directly answering Yang Mi’s question, he countered, “Do you know what I majored in?”
“No idea?” Yang Mi had never bothered to find out.
“I studied library science,” Zhou You replied with utter seriousness.
???
Yang Mi’s face was a mess of question marks. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Of course it does. What we learn is the ability to analyze information—figuring out what’s useful and what’s not, picking the most valuable from a mess of complex data. It’s a tough skill,” Zhou You said, deadpan.
Yang Mi stayed silent, staring at him. Whatever you say, I don’t get it anyway.
Zhou You continued, “There might be plenty of good scripts, but you have to choose the one that fits the moment, that aligns with the trends. Let me give you an example—*Rickshaw Boy*, you know it?”
Yang Mi’s eyes looked a bit lost, clearly she hadn’t seen it or had forgotten.
Zhou You couldn’t help but scold, “This is pure ignorance. It was even made into a movie, starring Zhang Fengyi and Siqin Gaowa.”
At that, Yang Mi had a vague memory and nodded like a pecking chick.
“When that movie came out in the 80s, people didn’t think much of it—they just felt sorry for Xiangzi.”
“By the 2000s, when people watched it, they thought Xiangzi didn’t try hard enough, so he ended up that miserable.”
“But in a few more years, when people watch it, they’ll understand Xiangzi and blame the era for his suffering.”
“Do you get what I’m saying now? The right work has to be placed in the right era to resonate. If it resonates, people will watch it. If people watch it, you make money!”
Yang Mi’s eyes were already spinning. What was all this about? It felt like being back in school. She nodded instinctively. “You’re right. I’ll listen to you.”
Take a break.
Zhou You, being a teacher, could tell from her expression that she hadn’t understood. He didn’t push her.
As long as she listened.
That was a virtue.
“Take whatever roles you can, invest if you can. Make sure there’s real acting talent—don’t waste good scripts. If not, just invest. It’s way faster than being an actor. Trust me, with some luck, one year of a bet agreement will be enough,” Zhou You said, seeing her still spaced out and feeling a bit sorry for her, adding a few more words.
“Rest for a while. Eat here before you leave, or stay the night if you want.”
Yang Mi was still a bit dazed, mostly because Zhou You’s talk was making her sleepy—her body had a reflex from school days where listening to a teacher made her drowsy. Sometimes when she had insomnia, she’d play online teaching videos and fall asleep in no time—a perfect cure for sleeplessness.
But at Zhou You’s words, she jolted awake. “No need. I’ll leave soon. I have to shoot tomorrow. I’ll skip the meal.”
She struggled to get up and started putting on her clothes.
Zhou You walked over and pressed her down. “Eat before you go. Health comes first, or it’ll leave lasting problems.”
Yang Mi felt a sudden touch of emotion and nodded, deciding to eat before leaving.
Zhou You added, “We’re a team. We help each other. If you’re down, I’ll help you, and others will help you too. One hero needs three helpers—three helpers, you know.”
Yang Mi seemed to catch on: if she couldn’t handle it alone, she could find more people. How had she been so naive? The entertainment industry was full of people, full of beautiful women.
It was like a sudden breakthrough—her meridians opened. What was Zhou You after by investing in her studio? According to him, he could make money any way he wanted. This was the real goal.
Returns were secondary.
Yang Mi burst out laughing. “Professor Zhou, you really are a university teacher—always speaking in circles, so refreshing. I get it now. One hero needs three helpers. You’re the hero, and I’ll find three people to help you.”
Zhou You laughed heartily. “President Yang, your insight is extraordinary. You’ll go far.” He couldn’t just say it outright—he had his pride. Besides, saying it directly would be beneath him.
This stuff required realization.
Once you realized it, you wouldn’t suffer.
If you didn’t, a few more rounds of suffering would make you get it.
That was the way of everything in the world—from work to life, from marriage to family—all required realization.
At noon, he called Big Head over for a meal.
If he promised something, he had to deliver. He might not excel at much else, but this he could do.
Big Head rushed over eagerly, ready to see a celebrity, with a mix of curiosity, anticipation, and excitement.
And this was it?
Yang Mi sat next to Zhou You, picking food for him.
Big Head felt a faint sadness: I came to see a star, not to watch you show off.
Besides, you’re a star—can’t you show some restraint?
The star’s halo shattered instantly, scattering into pieces, leaving Big Head with no sense of mystery, only a feeling of being insulted.
What he’d hoped would be wonderful turned into something ordinary, even a bit vulgar.
Zhou You wasn’t showing off; he did it on purpose to make Big Head understand.
There’s no such thing as mysterious beauty in this world. Everyone’s human. When you see others as dignified, beautiful, or perfect, it’s because you’re far away.
Get close enough, and they’re all just ordinary people.
No one is nobler than anyone else!
Wishing all readers a happy Mid-Autumn Festival!