Sun Ruhui entered the room and noticed that both the decorations and furniture had a distinctly dated feel, clearly provided by the landlord. On the coffee table were a few bottles of water, but aside from that, there was nothing else.
Shang Lu poured her a glass of water using a disposable cup and exchanged a few pleasantries. Sun Ruhui, however, was straightforward and quick to speak. She was about to graduate and had sent out several resumes but hadn’t received any responses.
She sighed, “The screenwriting industry places too much emphasis on reputation. Even if a studio were willing to take me on, it would only be as an intern. I heard from a senior that interns are essentially ghostwriters—they don’t even get credit. If I can’t find a suitable job, I might have to switch careers.”
Sun Ruhui had chosen screenwriting purely out of passion, but she never expected finding employment to be so difficult.
Sitting beside her, Shang Lu’s eyes sparkled as she opened her phone and showed Sun Ruhui her video on Douyin. “Senior, have you seen this video?”
“My name is Liu Xiaolian,” a man’s voice came from the phone.
Sun Ruhui’s face lit up with excitement. “I’ve seen this! It’s been trending like crazy online these past few days. Don’t let its short length fool you—the script is really well-written, and the hooks are perfectly placed.”
Once she started talking about her field of expertise, Sun Ruhui couldn’t stop, leaving Shang Lu no chance to interject.
But as she spoke, Sun Ruhui gradually calmed down. “I’d really love to meet the screenwriter behind this. They’re so talented. Don’t mind all the people calling it vulgar—that’s just their bias.”
Shang Lu watched her intently and finally seized the opportunity to ask, “If you were to write it, how would you approach it?”
The question caught Sun Ruhui off guard. “Me? Honestly, I’m not sure. Maybe I’d expand the characters a bit, especially Liu Xiaolian’s personality. I’d probably write him as an ordinary person. The reason this video is so popular is because the protagonist’s words resonate with netizens. Even though it seems funny, the dialogue is all too real.”
Seeing Sun Ruhui’s attitude, Shang Lu felt reassured. “Senior, why don’t you write scripts for me?”
“Huh?” Sun Ruhui’s eyes widened slightly, as if she’d heard something unbelievable. “Junior, don’t joke with me. Are you a rich second-generation heiress or something?”
Shang Lu made a helpless expression. “I used to be, but now I’ve been kicked out. Still, I’m currently starting my own business. ‘Really Unexpected’ is my project. Since you’re so interested in it, why not help me out? I can pay you a salary and definitely won’t exploit you.”
She pointed to her phone. “Senior, you never asked for my name, did you? I’m Shang Lu. You can check the account backend on Douyin—that can’t be faked, right?”
Judging by her junior’s expression, she didn’t seem to be joking.
Sun Ruhui felt her hands trembling. She had only watched the video earlier and hadn’t paid attention to the account. With shaky fingers, she tapped on the profile picture, and two words appeared clearly: “Shang Lu”!
“Ah!” Sun Ruhui suddenly exclaimed, then tightly hugged Shang Lu.
“Oh my god, it’s really you? I’ve hit the jackpot! No, no, I’m too excited right now. Wait, let me calm down for a moment.”
Shang Lu’s face was pressed into her embrace, nearly suffocating her. Fortunately, the other party soon released her, averting the crisis of asphyxiation.
“Huff,” Shang Lu let out a long sigh of relief, quietly shifting her body backward. She hadn’t expected her senior to be so strong, nor had she anticipated her to be so well-endowed.
On the other side, Sun Ruhui took several deep breaths. “Alright, I’ll sign the contract with you.”
Seeing her agree so readily, Shang Lu was somewhat surprised. “You trust me that much? Aren’t you afraid I might deceive you?”
After all, she looked young and was still a student. Even though she had created a hit, many people still didn’t trust her. The few screenwriters she had approached earlier had rejected her for this very reason.
Sun Ruhui, however, shook her head. “It’s not that I fully trust you, but you showed me your account backend, so I don’t think you’re lying. Besides, no one else wants me right now. If I can write stories I love, even if the pay is low, it doesn’t matter.”
Then she smiled sheepishly. “Actually, there’s something I haven’t mentioned yet. I made a bet with my family—if I can’t find a job, I have to accept their arrangements. The deadline is in just a week, and you happened to need me. This is like sending charcoal in snowy weather.”
From the sound of it, Sun Ruhui’s family background seemed unusual? But Shang Lu wasn’t surprised, as she could guess as much from the other’s attire.
Although China’s economy was developing rapidly, many industries required time to accumulate expertise. Most people still prioritized comfort when it came to clothing.
Yet Sun Ruhui’s simple yellow dress was well-tailored and had a sense of design. Even film school students might not possess such taste.
As they chatted, the locksmith finally arrived, and Sun Ruhui could finally go home.
Before returning to her room, Sun Ruhui tried to invite Shang Lu inside, but she declined.
“Tomorrow, I’ll draft a contract for you. Once you sign it, I’ll give you the outline, and you can write a few episodes of the script. I’ll find actors for it.”
The two actors she had previously approached had renewed their contracts, but two people were definitely not enough. Shang Lu still needed to find more actors.
Although it was just a small, makeshift team, Shang Lu was already experiencing the feeling of being “spread too thin.”
Now that she had a director, screenwriter, and actors, all she needed was a cinematographer. After much thought, the original host seemed to know one, but the person’s situation was a bit unusual, and they weren’t in Shencheng.
Despite Shang Lu’s reluctance to travel far as a homebody, she now had no choice but to make the trip.
After finalizing the contract with Sun Ruhui, Shang Lu immediately boarded a plane and traveled 1,200 kilometers to the capital, Jingdu.
As soon as she got off the plane, she hailed a taxi and showed the driver an address from her phone’s notes. “Driver, I need to go here.”
After what felt like a long ride, the taxi suddenly stopped while still some distance from the destination. “Miss, I can only drop you off here. There are guards ahead, and outside vehicles aren’t allowed to enter.”
Shang Lu looked at the gate ahead and indeed saw two guards. She didn’t make things difficult for the driver. “Alright, I’ll get off here.”
After paying and watching the driver leave, Shang Lu, carrying a small backpack, took out her phone and dialed a number. “Beep—beep—”
“Hey, Shang Lu? If you have something to say, send a message. Why call?” A man’s voice came through, slurred and unclear, as if he hadn’t fully woken up.
Shang Lu, however, got straight to the point. “I’m at the entrance of your residential complex. Tell the security guard to let me in.”