Chapter 33: Script Pending

Lü Chunqiu’s heart had already gone cold.

The pie that was almost in her mouth was about to fly away. Ha, when she got back, she might as well take Mo Fei with her and die together.

"Your offer is quite cheap," Ji Xingjian remarked as he studied Mo Fei. "But isn’t it a little too cheap? Is my brother really only worth half a million?"

Mo Fei let out a short laugh. "I only get a hundred thousand for a film. Half a million is a lot."

As an obscure, nameless actor, sometimes he even had to pay just to get roles. To actually receive payment was nothing short of a miracle.

Ji Xingjian nodded. "Alright."

"I was thinking of brushing you off at first, but it seems there’s at least a little merit to you after all."

His tone suggested there was room for negotiation. Both Mo Fei and Lü Chunqiu couldn’t help but widen their eyes in surprise.

"What did you say?"

"Self-awareness is a rare virtue," Ji Xingjian replied, ignoring Mo Fei’s astonished expression. He tore a piece of paper from the table and scribbled down a phone number. "This is the director’s number for that web series. You can contact him directly later."

This time, Lü Chunqiu was quick to act. She snatched the number before Mo Fei could reach it, her face about to split with joy. "Alright, thank you, President Ji."

Mo Fei was not having it. "You’re a big boss, how can you—"

He let out a yelp, hopping on one foot while clutching his leg.

Lü Chunqiu, all smiles, withdrew her little shoe from Mo Fei’s toes. "Really, thank you for your trouble, President Ji. We won’t disturb you any longer. We’ll be going now."

With that, she seized Mo Fei by the collar and hauled him out.

Ji Xingjian played with a fountain pen in his hand, making no move to stop them.

The half a million buy-out that Mo Fei had proposed sounded tempting. For him, fifty thousand was nothing—less than a hair’s worth of trouble. Not to mention, the flashy watch his brother had gifted him cost over four million.

Yet Ji Xingjian didn’t go along with Mo Fei’s suggestion.

The reasons were complex, but the main one was that, during this meeting, Ji Xingjian noticed that the aura of danger Mo Fei once carried was gone.

He and Ji Xingyu were brothers by blood. Their parents died young, and he raised Ji Xingyu by himself—closer than a father and son could ever be. No matter what Ji Xingyu wanted, Ji Xingjian supported him wholeheartedly. Because of that, Ji Xingyu had grown up sheltered, never having tasted the world’s dangers.

Now, in his twenties, he was still as naïve and foolish as a college student.

Perhaps even the members of a university student council were more shrewd than his brother.

No matter how much Ji Xingjian doted on him, he had to consider how to teach his brother to survive. He couldn’t keep Ji Xingyu tied by his side forever. With such an age gap, it was inevitable that he would die before his brother. When that day came, with Xingyu’s character, the world would eat him alive—bones and all.

As for who would teach Ji Xingyu a lesson, Ji Xingjian hadn’t considered Mo Fei before. People with a dangerous edge were simply too risky.

But now, with that aura gone, Mo Fei seemed manageable—skilled, short on money, and clever.

Ji Xingjian had encountered all sorts in business over the years. Someone like Mo Fei was a dream: throw money at him, and he’d do the job. Smart enough to know his limits, with enough integrity not to drag Ji Xingjian into trouble. Someone who could be managed with both the stick and the carrot was the best kind of person to use.

Of course, Ji Xingjian was never stingy with rewards. If you want the horse to run, you have to feed it well—he was a businessman, after all. Only a slave-driver expects work without reward, and what good end does a slave-driver ever meet?

With that thought, Ji Xingjian picked up his phone to call his younger brother, checking if he’d eaten on time.

While Ji Xingjian was in high spirits, Mo Fei was anything but. Having his toe crushed by a little shoe, he limped out of the fashion company, only to be shoved into a car by Lü Chunqiu. He was as dejected as a rain-soaked puppy.

Lü Chunqiu, having gotten the director’s number, couldn’t be bothered to argue with him over his tactless remarks. After all, this wastrel had ruined things more than once. If she weren’t clever, they would have starved long ago.

As soon as they got in the car, Lü Chunqiu dialed the number.

A young man answered. Upon hearing her intentions, he let out a wistful sigh.

"There’s a little problem with that. It might take some time."

Mo Fei’s ears perked up.

A problem? That would be just perfect—if the whole thing fell through, Ji Xingjian might just pay cash directly. Getting money without working—what could be better?

Lü Chunqiu grew a bit tense, recalling all the times she’d been rejected by directors, big and small. She couldn’t help but ask, "Is it a funding issue?"

Logically, with Ji Xingjian’s recommendation, money shouldn’t be a problem.

Otherwise, who could swallow such an empty promise?

The young man sighed again. "No, funding’s fine. It’s just some other small issues."

Money solves eighty percent of problems in this world; if a production has enough money, what else could be wrong? That’s what Lü Chunqiu thought, and so she asked.

"Of course there are," the young man replied frankly. "We have enough money, but no cast, no script, no props, no crew, no lighting, no makeup, no costumes… Ah, apart from the money, it seems we have nothing at all."

Lü Chunqiu listened, staring at her phone screen for a moment to confirm the number was indeed the one Ji Xingjian had given her. Once sure she hadn’t dialed wrong, she politely ended the call.

She gripped the steering wheel, lost in thought.

Ji Xingjian wasn’t from the film industry, so she could understand him finding a newbie director. That wasn’t a problem. But judging by this call, the issue wasn’t about experience at all—was the director even functioning properly?

Mo Fei’s mood brightened. He pulled out a snack and started munching away. If the director was this unprepared, at least he’d have some time to idle around. Though he might not escape having to work in the end, a delay was a delay.

Hearing Mo Fei crunching away, Lü Chunqiu let him be for the moment. She sat in the driver’s seat, pondering life, when suddenly a thought struck her.

She dialed the number again.

The young man answered just as calmly as before, showing no irritation at being called twice in quick succession.

"Director," Lü Chunqiu began, "I don’t just have Mo Fei under my management. I have a few other artists as well. Would you like to take a look?"

With so many people vying for so few roles in the industry, how could she not push her own people when she encountered such an odd situation?

This time, the young man hesitated. "Well… I’d have to see the lead actor first."

With no script and the lead already handpicked by the big boss, everything else would have to revolve around him. Casting actors who couldn’t mesh with the lead would make filming impossible.