Drinking with students never leads to getting drunk, and Zhou You figured he wouldn't have many days ahead where he'd be forced to drink excessively. After all, in his past life, he was pressured to drink every single day, and this time around, he'd developed a rebellious streak—no one was going to force him to drink, and likewise, he wouldn't force anyone else.
But he wasn't sure if that was achievable, since even the ancient sages had weighed in on it thousands of years ago.
Zigong said, "I do not wish others to impose on me, nor do I wish to impose on others."
Confucius replied, "Ci, that is beyond your reach."
In the past, Zhou You had been incredibly naive—if you don't mess with me, I won't mess with you; everyone just minds their own business, how wonderful would that be? It wasn't until he stepped into society that he realized it doesn't work that way. Just like pigs, horses, cows, and sheep—if I didn't mess with people, why would they mess with me? No other reason than self-interest.
More often than not, invisible battles over interests push individuals into opposing camps, sparking a cycle of mutual harm. Because resources are limited—the simplest example is the college entrance exam, where everyone is hurting each other. Good schools are scarce, and majors are finite. The same holds true in society: resources are limited, money is limited. If you don't compete, that doesn't mean others won't.
Student days are relatively pure; people mostly manage to coexist without conflict. Many struggle to adapt after graduation because you want to be kind to others, but they treat you like livestock.
Thinking about students made him think of himself. Even though he had some wealth, if his mindset hadn't shifted, he'd still be stuck in a life of toil, driven by worldly interests, unable to find true happiness. Just as the truly carefree ancients once said: "Are worldly rites and laws ever meant for us?" And abroad, many upper-class rulers are the makers and interpreters of laws, but not their followers.
Just as he was getting lost in his reading, a phone call startled him.
"Hello, who's this?" Zhou You's voice carried a hint of annoyance.
"Mr. Zhou, hello. I'm from a documentary crew. I'm planning to team up with a few friends to shoot a sci-fi alien documentary—a big production. Are you interested?" The voice had a slight Hong Kong or Taiwan accent.
"Big production? How big?" Zhou You smirked. A sci-fi alien documentary? Whether aliens exist or not is one thing, but even if they did, could this guy get access?
"We're planning to shoot on location around the world, already coordinated with various governments. We'll check out all the famous spots. The production cost is pretty high—tens of millions total. Knowing you're into this kind of thing, Mr. Zhou, we'd like you to invest five million." The guy was either genuinely clueless, playing dumb, or thought Zhou You was the fool.
Zhou You knew right away it was a scam, and a low-level one at that—asking for five million outright, probably taking him for a sucker.
"How did you get my contact info?" Zhou You was genuinely curious. At this point, he had virtually no reputation in the film and TV industry.
"Through a friend at CCTV. I heard you've invested in a CCTV documentary."
That made sense. His other channels were private and unlikely to leak without a heads-up. The only possible source was CCTV, with its messy mix of people and high turnover.
"Sorry, but I'm a bit tight on funds right now. I've got other business to handle."
The caller hesitated, surprised. Rumor had it Zhou You was rich but gullible, right?
After hanging up, Zhou You spat, "Damn, the world's full of all kinds of birds. No matter the time, there's always scum like this."
Little did he know, this was just the beginning. Over the next few days, he got several more calls, all asking him to invest in documentaries. This was finally achieving his goal—people were coming to him. But what he hadn't expected was that the first to show up weren't real documentary makers, but scammers. It seemed scammers had the strongest drive for money and the keenest noses.
When he found something interesting, he'd chat a bit more. If the conversation went nowhere or the person was full of hot air, he'd politely decline.
When in doubt, ask Zhao Yun.
"Bro Yun, what's going on? I'm getting calls from all over asking me to invest in documentaries," Zhou You said, sprawled on his bed.
"What do you think? Didn't I tell you last time? No one invests in this industry, especially independent documentaries. I didn't expect to get any money when I visited you last time," Zhao Yun laughed on the other end.
"I've run into several scammers these past few days, all talking nonsense," Zhou You said helplessly.
"Besides, isn't this what you wanted? Before, you had no channels. Now they're coming to you. Just take your time picking," Zhao Yun practically said, "You asked for this."
"Sigh, when I say invest, I mean in someone solid like you, Bro Yun, who genuinely wants to make something, not these scammers. There are way too many of them now, getting in everywhere."
"That's because you're not looking at the current trend—money rules! If you can make money, you're good. Laugh at poverty, not prostitution," Zhao Yun grew more serious. "That's why I want to make documentaries. People's values should be diverse, not just about money."
"Exactly, that's my thinking too. That's the main reason I'm willing to invest in documentaries. If everyone only looks forward, what's the point? Just lay out your cash and compare—why bother with all the effort?" They both got worked up.
"Keep your wits about you. Don't get fooled and end up with a reputation for being rich and dumb. If you're unsure, run it by me. I've been in this circle long enough to know some people," Zhao Yun advised finally.
Idealists hit walls in society.
With options came more channels. Though he'd encountered a few scammers, he also met some genuinely passionate filmmakers—names he'd never heard of, which was normal. The documentary world, especially independent ones, had a low barrier to entry and covered a wide range. He couldn't possibly know them all. Zhou You picked a few that interested him and asked them to come for face-to-face meetings when they had time.
As his influence grew, Zhou You wanted to specify themes. He'd pick industries, categories, or topics he was curious about, then initiate projects and find like-minded people to collaborate and shoot together.
Others loved luxury cars and mansions, but Zhou You was only so-so about them, so he didn't want to spend his money there.
Unfortunately, for now, he could only film the lower rungs, maybe the middle class at best. Anything higher was off-limits—that would be historical exposé. One wrong move could bring deadly trouble.
Sticking to his own small interests and hobbies was a blessing in life. Otherwise, if people saw him having too much fun, they'd come after him.
The lower and middle classes can't just coast because they need to produce, generate resources, and create wealth. The upper class can coast, and it's even encouraged—it means stepping back from resource competition and distancing yourself from power centers.