After the man left, Shang Lu sighed to Director Pang, “Who is that? He’s perfect for movies.”
Director Pang shot her a look. “His name is Xin Yan. He’s here to discuss collaboration with our school. No director could ever get him to act. I haven’t even scolded you yet—what were you thinking, saying you want to transfer to the directing department first thing in the morning?”
Director Pang’s full name was Pang Wei. When the original host first came to Shencheng, she happened to help Pang Wei’s mother, and that’s how the two of them met.
The original host had been in Shencheng for two years without any other friends. In her heart, she regarded Pang Wei as her own mother, so she spoke to her quite casually.
Sitting on the sofa, Shang Lu answered offhandedly, “I’ve been kicked out of the Yan family now. I can’t be an actress anymore, and I prefer directing others anyway. That’s why I want to transfer to the directing department.”
“Did you really push Yan Ranran down the stairs?”
“How could I? I argued with her, but I didn’t push her. She lost her balance and fell on her own. But no one believes me, so just assume I pushed her.”
Shang Lu was telling the truth. In the original host’s memories, she was indeed jealous of Yan Ranran, but she didn’t have the guts to harm anyone.
In the novel, the original host completely turned to the dark side only after being expelled from the Yan family, embarking on a path of no return.
Pang Wei frowned. “Right now, the whole school is spreading rumors that you pushed Yan Ranran down the stairs and broke her leg. It’s not good for your reputation. If you transfer departments now, won’t it just give people more to gossip about?”
Shang Lu stood up, refilled Pang Wei’s tea, poured herself a cup, and took a small sip. “No matter what I say, no one will believe me, so I might as well ignore it all. A few rumors won’t hurt me. I’m not transferring to avoid gossip—I genuinely love filmmaking. Auntie, I plan to shoot short videos myself, but I can’t afford good equipment. Do you think I could borrow some from the school?”
“The equipment isn’t a problem, but what exactly are these ‘short videos’?”
Pang Wei was a bit confused. “If you want to learn, I know a few friends you could study with. Just don’t get scammed.”
Shang Lu moved to sit beside her and took out her phone. “Auntie, look—short videos are so popular right now. Don’t you think something’s missing?”
Pang Wei wasn’t very familiar with these things and shook her head. “I know about them. Aren’t they just like posting on social media?”
“Auntie, you’re a bit behind the times. This platform pays creators based on views. Don’t you think that’s perfect for someone like me, a director with no background, no experience, and no resources? Besides, 【Dou Dong】 is super popular among young people. I want to use this platform to make money, gain fame, and someday shoot my own movies!”
At this thought, Shang Lu’s heart burned with passion. The dreams she couldn’t achieve in her previous life—she would definitely make them come true in this one!
Looking at Shang Lu’s slightly flushed face, Pang Wei felt a bit dazed. Before, the girl was pretty but always carried an air of depression and resentment. Standing next to Yan Ranran, she seemed unremarkable.
But now, she was full of vitality, unconsciously drawing the attention of everyone around her. She truly had the potential to be a big star.
In the end, Pang Wei agreed to Shang Lu’s request and even helped her find a suitable location that met her needs—without having to pay rent.
Shang Lu was filled with gratitude and tightly hugged Pang Wei. “Auntie, you’re so good to me! Don’t worry, I won’t let you down!” Her sweet words made Pang Wei beam with delight. When Shang Lu turned on the charm, she could be quite endearing.
The transfer of her major was naturally approved. After all, Shang Lu was still a freshman, and with Director Pang Wei putting in a good word, the procedures were quickly completed.
Before she left, Pang Wei couldn’t help but remind her, “Even though you’ve changed your major, you don’t need to move out of your dorm. Make sure to get along well with your roommates and avoid any more conflicts.”
Shang Lu turned back with a grin. “Auntie, I’ve already rented a place off-campus, near the school. I’ll go pack my things from the dorm in a bit.”
Hearing this, Pang Wei was about to scold her, but Shang Lu had already dashed off. “I’ve got things to do, gotta go!”
Her time was precious now, and she still had a lot to take care of.
Three days later
Liu Tingxiang and Xing Qi arrived at the filming location and were nearly dumbfounded.
The place was a remote park with a small pond and a patch of green grass. However, the weather was still a bit chilly, and the grass hadn’t grown yet, leaving the ground looking like a barren field.
The only thing that could be considered a scenic spot was a small bridge with a few willow trees nearby.
Shang Lu arrived a little later, having taken a taxi. After getting out, she called Liu Tingxiang.
“Hello, Liu Tingxiang, right? Are you here yet? Oh, you are? Then come to the east side of the park and help me carry the equipment. I can’t manage it all by myself.”
After hanging up, Shang Lu crouched on the ground, waiting.
This kind of short video didn’t require high-quality visuals, but since the equipment was free, Shang Lu had brought the entire set. Of course, the trade-off was that it nearly exhausted her.
When Liu Tingxiang and Xing Qi walked over, this was the scene they saw:
A girl as beautiful as a celebrity crouched on the ground, scrolling through her phone. She wore a black jacket and blue jeans, with a pile of filming equipment beside her.
Was this person really today’s director?
Liu Tingxiang and Xing Qi exchanged a glance, then sighed helplessly. Well, never mind—as long as they got paid, they’d film whatever she wanted.
Seeing them arrive, Shang Lu quickly stood up. “There are a few costumes for you here. Just put them on over your clothes later. I’ve already scouted the location, so today we’ll shoot two episodes to see how it goes.”
She had specifically borrowed several sets of ancient-style costumes, which would come in handy today.
First, she took out a male outfit and handed it to Liu Tingxiang.
“You’ll wear this today—no need to change. The rest are for Xing Qi. Have you both read the scripts I sent you? We’ll shoot a scene first to see how it turns out. Don’t worry, I chose both of you, so I’m sure you’ll do well.”
Liu Tingxiang and Xing Qi could only nod. They had indeed decided to take on the project after reading the script; otherwise, they wouldn’t have agreed to such a low fee.
The only downside was that the script was too brief, leaving them wanting more.
In this small garden, the three of them filmed for an entire day, producing three episodes in total. If fully edited, it would probably amount to just over ten minutes.
Still, Shang Lu was quite satisfied with their efficiency.
When work wrapped up, she also prepared two small red envelopes. “You both performed very well today. Please accept these red envelopes. In a few days, I’ll post it online, and you can take a look too. If the response is good, we’ll continue filming!”
Liu Tingxiang returned home in the evening. His two roommates, who shared the apartment with him, gathered around curiously when they saw him back.
“So, how did it go? What kind of play were you filming?”
His eyes were vacant, and he was utterly exhausted. “I don’t even know what kind of show it was. Honestly, I think I might have been scammed.”
A play that even the actors couldn’t understand—could it really become a hit?