Ying Shi was also following the gossip about Fang Kaiyun’s relationship, but in the end, it quietly fizzled out.
It was probably Fang Kaiyun’s company stepping in to suppress the news.
However, Qiao Cheng had already shared some of Fang Kaiyun’s scandals with Ying Shi. Ying Shi went from one shock to the next.
In the end, she couldn’t help but sigh—emotional validation was clearly very valuable. Otherwise, how could one explain how Fang Kaiyun’s face, which was barely passable as decent-looking, could be so beloved by wealthy women?
These matters were gradually replaced by other trending events. “Calm Seas, Clear Rivers” also became much more low-key compared to when it first aired, seemingly just hoping to finish its run quietly.
This low-key approach meant that even the voices of criticism diminished significantly. After all, without buzz, there was no motivation to critique.
The entertainment industry stayed quiet for quite a while until Ying Shi Entertainment announced its screenwriting competition.
The competition was named the “Wanshi Original Script Competition.” An announcement was posted on Ying Shi Entertainment’s official website, along with various registration certificates made public to prove the legitimacy of the event.
“How is it going? How many entries have you received?”
Ying Shi felt that since this was the first time they were holding the competition, and the company itself had only produced two dramas, with no real-world examples to prove what winners would receive, there probably wouldn’t be many participants.
“Do you have some kind of misunderstanding about your own influence?” Su Manwen asked with a blank expression, then simply told her a number.
This left Ying Shi with a dazed look on her face.
She finally had a clear understanding of Lin Chongshan’s assessment.
Back when they were collaborating, Lin Chongshan had said she was a 9.9-out-of-10 investor. The 0.1 point deduction was just to leave some leeway, to prevent things from going too far in the opposite direction.
“Ying Shi Entertainment was founded by you alone. Later, you discovered Song Zhizhi and began assembling a crew. Whether it was ‘Little Sweetheart’ or ‘The Legend of Medicine Maiden,’ both productions made everyone involved a hit, and the screenwriters and directors also benefited from the success.”
Su Manwen explained to her. “Screenwriters and directors in the industry are quite eager to collaborate with you.”
Ying Shi nodded. At least the screenwriting competition wasn’t met with indifference.
…
Mu Yao saw the news about the “Wanshi Original Script Competition” online and was also excited at first. But as the competition gained more attention, some discordant voices began to emerge.
[To be honest, does YSYS not have any scripts left to produce? A bunch of fans were hyping them up, but both of their dramas weren’t pure originals—they rode on the coattails of the original works to some extent.]
[Doesn’t anyone think the prizes for this competition are too good? Are they trying to trick people out of their scripts?]
[There are quite a few cases in the industry where small-time screenwriters’ scripts are bought outright and then rewritten. The entry conditions for this competition seem suspicious to me.]
At the same time, others were refuting these claims.
[Laughing to death. How many companies in the industry are still sticking to original scripts? But you only go after YSYS, right?]
[If you look down on mythological dramas so much, why don’t you tell Central Television to stop producing them? After all, Central TV is the biggest producer of mythological dramas!]
[As for those saying YSYS is trying to trick people out of their scripts—why would they spend money and effort just to snatch a few unknown, low-profile scripts?]
[Were these comments even posted by people from the screenwriting circle? As everyone knows, Guanjun likes to discover newcomers. Song Zhizhi was found by her. And this competition is also giving a platform to new screenwriters—the selected scripts can be greenlit for production. Isn’t that just breaking the established rules of the screenwriting circle?]
Mu Yao read through the various refutations and speculations from netizens and couldn’t help but nod in agreement.
Mushroom was so rich; the top five winners could get their projects greenlit, and the top ten could get prize money with future cooperation potential. Why would she go to all this trouble just to snatch a few copyright fees?
When the results of the screenwriting competition were finally announced, the news that “The Legend of Medicine Maiden” had been nominated for the Golden TV Awards and the Drama Critics’ Ceremony also surged to the top of the trending searches.
[So, is the Golden TV Awards basically a fan of “The Legend of Medicine Maiden”? Five nominations — Best Actress, Best Director, Best Original Screenplay, Best Television Drama, and Best Supporting Actress?]
[Last year, the Golden TV Awards also nominated “Little Sweetheart,” and then the attention on the awards ceremony suddenly increased 😂. Riding on the popularity of “Little Sweetheart,” the Golden TV Awards returned to the public eye. And yet the three major trending charts still said the popularity of “Little Sweetheart” was just brainwashing marketing (dog head).]
[Last year, “Little Sweetheart” was only nominated but didn’t win. Then some people accused the Golden TV Awards of riding on its popularity. Who would have thought that the fans of “Little Sweetheart” would end up shutting them down? Laughing to death. The drama fans thanked the Golden TV Awards for their recognition, emmm.]
[Because the winners selected by the Golden TV Awards are all quite fair. As a fan of “Little Sweetheart,” I also admit that the drama has many shortcomings.]
[Fang Kaiyun’s fans are causing a stir again, saying that “Calm Seas, Clear Rivers” was a hit drama of the year, yet the Golden TV Awards didn’t even acknowledge it (eating melon).]
[I advise them to stay quiet. Ying Men is watching—specializing in taking down delusional fans.]
[That seems to be true. I always thought Guanjun liked to argue, but looking back now, every time she came out to slap someone down, it was either because fans came to her doorstep to cause trouble, or because someone was trying to pick a fight, make snide comparisons, or tear one down to prop up another…]
[The Drama Review Ceremony is also hilarious. Fang Kaiyun’s fans went up to ask, and the Drama Review Ceremony directly replied, “Bad show, flop” (shocked). Is that its style?]
[The Drama Review Ceremony is known for its sharp tongue. Although it’s not a top-tier award, it’s still highly recognized within the industry. I feel that whatever the Drama Review Ceremony says is a flop is truly a flop (eating melon).]
[By the way, will Guanjun attend the Golden TV Awards and the Drama Review Ceremony this year? She should be in her senior year internship by now, right?]
[Huh? Senior year internship? Those words sound so unfamiliar?]
[Mushroom is a student at N University (covering face). Last year at the Golden TV Awards ceremony, when reporters asked about Mushroom, Director Lin said she was preparing for her final exams.]
[Falling into silence.jpg]
Mu Yao was amused by the online discussions. She had also been shocked when she first learned that Mushroom was a university student.
Suddenly, a notification popped up on her phone—a message from “Cat Doesn’t Eat Fish.”
[Cat Doesn’t Eat Fish: Mu, check Weibo quick! Mushroom is making a new drama! It’s urban martial arts!]
“Urban… martial arts?” Mu Yao was puzzled for a moment, then quickly cast her confusion aside.
Mushroom’s productions are guaranteed quality! No matter how strange the combination, she would blindly follow!
[Ying Shi Entertainment v: Steel and concrete, the rivers and lakes reach their end. // @A True Hero Does not Break the Law V: Twenty years of hard training, no match for twenty skewers from a street-side grill. Leave now, or I’m calling the police, ha…]
The accompanying poster was a watercolor hand-painted illustration. A bustling night market, with distant lights flickering. The girl at the center of the poster was shown only from the back, flipping skewers at a food cart powered by a three-wheeled electric vehicle.
For some reason, with just a few lines of text and a single illustration, Mu Yao felt an indescribable sense of sadness.
“Screenwriter Mu He…” Mu Yao remembered that name. It was the first-place winner of the screenwriting competition.
[Mu Tou Wo Ya: The winner of the screenwriting competition. The copy seems pretty interesting?]
[Cat Doesn’t Eat Fish: I don’t care. I’m definitely watching it. I trust Boss Ying’s script-selection skills. Ying Men is invincible!!]
Indeed, setting everything else aside, the mystical power of Mushroom’s track record couldn’t be ignored.
…
After finalizing the new drama, Ying Shi became busy again. The first step in assembling the crew was to find a suitable director.
She reviewed a large number of films and dramas, mostly crime and detective series, but always felt something was off. Then she watched some suspense and adventure dramas, but found their plots to be overly pretentious and mysterious.
What she needed was a style that blended ancient martial arts with a modern setting—a conflict between the concepts of chivalry and the rule of law, as well as the difficulty of integrating martial arts traditions passed down through generations into modern life, leading to the helpless feeling of martial arts being gradually forgotten and abandoned.
“Boss Ying, take a look at this film,” said screenwriter Mu He, a twenty-five-year-old young woman who appeared quiet and spoke little. It was hard to imagine how she could write a script like this—one that dealt with all sorts of characters and the end of the road for heroes.
Ying Shi took the tablet she handed over. On the screen was a martial arts film set in the Republican era.
The film was nearly two hours long. Ying Shi noted down the title and the director in her notebook, then handed the tablet back.
“Meeting adjourned. If any of you come across suitable films or dramas, you can recommend them to me.” Ying Shi announced the end of the meeting, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
“Mu He, be prepared as well. Once the director is confirmed, we’ll probably have to do a lot of traveling—after all, martial arts actors aren’t easy to find.” Ying Shi reminded Mu He one last time before leaving the conference room.
Since they were making a Wuxia(martial arts genre), the fight choreography certainly couldn’t bee perfunctory.
“Little Sweetheart” was an ancient-style romance. As long as the action scenes were passable, that was fine. “The Legend of Medicine Maiden” was a mythological drama, focusing on elegance and grace, enhanced with special effects. The action requirements weren’t that stringent either.
Although both dramas received praise for their action scenes after airing, by Ying Shi’s standards, this level was nowhere near meeting the requirements for a martial arts drama.
She returned to her office, opened her computer, and began searching for the film Mu He had recommended.
Even though Mu He was a new screenwriter, Ying Shi believed that no one understood the core of this drama better than Mu He did.
So Ying Shi highly respected Mu He’s opinions. Whether it was the director’s style or the actors, she tried to listen to the screenwriter’s input as much as possible. If something didn’t work, they would discuss it in a meeting, rather than disregarding Mu He’s views just because she was the investor.
The film was titled “The Female Martial Artist.” The director was a woman, and this work was also one of her early productions. As the image on the screen lit up, Ying Shi slowly began to remember.
She had seen this film before. On the day before the college entrance examination, Ying Shi had given up struggling and stopped forcing herself to study. She went straight to the cinema and, using the money she had saved from working over the summer, picked a movie at random.
The film she watched back then was “The Female Martial Artist.”
She had probably been too nervous back then, and Ying Shi didn’t really remember the plot.
Now, looking back at it, she realized the plot was indeed quite good.
“The Female Martial Artist” told the story of the only daughter of a martial arts school owner. After her father was seriously injured, facing a challenge from her father’s old rival, she kept the martial arts school running and helped the common people in a turbulent and chaotic era.
Two hours passed quickly.
Ying Shi admitted that the style of this film was indeed suitable for “A True Hero Does not Break the Law.” But the problem was, this was a work from three years ago, and in recent years, she hadn’t heard anything about this female director having any new productions.
So, could she actually get in touch with this director?