The only perk of Shang Lu’s transmigration was probably her exceptionally clear memories of her past life—every movie and TV drama she had watched, almost every line of dialogue and every scene, remained vivid in her mind.
In Shang Lu’s previous life, if you stopped anyone on the street and asked them which drama was the most melodramatic, they would undoubtedly answer without hesitation: “The Temptation of Returning Home”!
This series combined a plethora of melodramatic elements such as infidelity, coercion, domestic violence, miscarriage, car accidents, and love triangles, earning it the title of the ultimate melodramatic soap opera.
Most importantly, it was a modern drama, which meant lower costs for locations and costumes, and fewer actors required—making it more suitable for Shang Lu’s current situation.
But she only had one million yuan, which was far from enough to produce a 68-episode TV series.
“Sigh, with no money and no people, nothing can be done.” Shang Lu flipped through her phone, searching for any potential money-making opportunities. Logically speaking, with smartphones now widespread, online dramas, live streaming, and short videos should have already taken off.
She remembered that in her past life, several short dramas had also gained popularity. These dramas had low production costs, rough visuals, and each episode lasted only a few minutes. Yet, as long as they were packed with punchlines, they could firmly capture the attention of netizens.
After searching online, Shang Lu quickly downloaded the most popular short video app at the moment: “Doudou.”
With over a billion users, the app allowed videos of up to ten minutes in length. The higher the view count, the more money one could earn, and there were also opportunities to take on advertising deals—perfect for her to quickly accumulate funds.
Currently, most videos on the platform were either about sharing personal lives or featured attractive men and women. There were hardly any narrative-driven videos. People in this era held a strangely conservative mindset, preferring rigid and formulaic dramas.
But was that really the case?
Shang Lu didn’t believe so. The pursuit of novelty and curiosity was human nature; people in this era were simply habitually suppressing themselves. Shang Lu didn’t care about any of that. She would show them what true information bombardment in the internet age should look like!
She immediately registered an account for herself, using the name “Shang Lu,” with a black profile picture. After filling in all the information, she even completed real-name verification.
After working for half the day, it was already getting late. Shang Lu decided to first find a short-term rental for herself. She couldn’t sleep outdoors or stay in hotels indefinitely—she needed to save money to produce her drama.
Besides, she had no intention of moving away. Shencheng was home to a nationally renowned art university and also had a film and television base, making it convenient for shooting dramas and finding actors.
There were plenty of rental listings online. Given that she had nothing with her, Shang Lu could only look at fully furnished apartments, which also meant the rent wouldn’t be particularly low.
Fortunately, she had no specific requirements for the location, only that the apartment should come fully equipped with appliances and furniture, ideally allowing her to move in with just her luggage.
After searching online for a long time, she found only two suitable places. She decided to check them out the next day. If the environment was acceptable, she would finalize the deal immediately. For tonight, she would have to make do with a hotel.
Late into the night, she was still busy writing the script. She managed to finish ten episodes, and the next step was finding actors. Should she look for them at art schools or online?
After a dreamless night, Shang Lu woke up early to finalize the apartment. In the end, she settled on a two-bedroom apartment near the university. Although the decor was somewhat dated, it at least had everything she needed, and she could sign the contract and move in on the same day.
After much persuasion, the landlord agreed to rent it to her for six months first.
With the accommodation settled, the next step was to work hard to earn money. The script she wrote last night was for the once wildly popular short drama You Really Wouldn’t Have Thought, each episode only a few minutes long. However, due to its absurd and hilarious plot, it became a huge hit online.
Now, Shang Lu’s biggest worry was where to find actors. She checked her phone and actually found a website called “Actor’s Home,” where many extras and lesser-known actors had left their contact information.
Currently, Shang Lu only needed two actors. After browsing for a while, she indeed found suitable candidates.
Liu Tingxiang, 27 years old, average build, with over a dozen experiences as an extra, not professionally trained.
Most importantly, he had an ordinary appearance, with a slightly comedic look when expressionless, perfectly suited for the male lead in You Really Wouldn’t Have Thought.
Xing Qi, 22 years old, weighing 170 pounds and a bit chubby, acted in a few dramas as a child but later could only play minor roles with few lines due to weight issues.
These two had a noticeable physical contrast and both lived in Shencheng, saving on travel expenses.
Shang Lu quickly sent invitation messages to both of them, scheduling the meeting for three days later. In the meantime, she had to prepare filming equipment and locations—time was tight.
When Liu Tingxiang and Xing Qi received the invitations for the male lead roles, they were both thrilled and apprehensive. They were happy to have a chance to act but worried it might be a scam.
However, they soon received electronic contracts clearly stating the payment and filming schedule, which put their minds at ease. Liu Tingxiang even decided to get a new haircut to show the director his dedication!
After securing the actors, Shang Lu immediately took a taxi and headed straight to Shencheng Film Academy! The original host was only 20 years old and currently studying at the university. However, to compete with the female lead, she had enrolled in the acting department.
To be fair, the original host had no particular talents and got in purely based on her looks.
The Yan family had its share of scoundrels, but their genes were remarkably strong—everyone was a beauty. Even Yan Defang, who was past middle age, was a handsome older man.
The original host was even more stunningly beautiful, especially with her phoenix eyes, which were enchanting when she smiled and imposing when she didn’t.
Shang Lu was quite satisfied with this appearance, as in this society, beauty was also an advantage.
The first thing she did upon arriving at the school was to look for the department head.
However, as soon as she entered the campus gate, she noticed people pointing at her and muttering something under their breath.
Shang Lu noticed this but wasn’t in a hurry to find out why. She went directly to the department head’s office and knocked on the door.
“Director Pang, I’m Shang Lu. May I come in?”
A voice soon came from inside, “Come in.”
Shang Lu pushed the door open but found Director Pang not sitting at the desk but on the sofa to the left. Sitting beside her was a young man, his back to the door, so his face couldn’t be seen.
“Director Pang, I see you have a guest. I’ll come back later.”
Since there was an outsider present who had arrived first, Shang Lu felt she should wait.
But the young man stood up, “No need. Director Pang and I have finished our discussion. I have other matters to attend to, so I’ll take my leave.”
He turned around, and only then did Shang Lu see his face.
That was truly a captivating face, with sharp features yet imbued with an Eastern charm. His straight nose and thin lips lent him an aura of cool, restrained elegance.
At first glance, Shang Lu could already picture him on the silver screen—he was simply perfect for acting!
But who exactly was this man?