Chapter Seventy-Six: The Film

Upon reaching his destination, Gao Ning was whisked away by the hotel staff and checked into a business suite that had been reserved in advance.

“Mr. Gao, hello. I’m Liu Shanshan, your personal assistant chosen online. Here are the recommendation documents from the headhunter agency, containing my basic information. Would you like to review them?”

As soon as he stepped out of the car, a young woman with glasses, dressed in the classic secretary attire, approached him. She sized Gao Ning up briefly, then greeted him confidently.

“Hello,” Gao Ning replied, extending his hand for a handshake. “No need for the documents. Are you familiar with my requirements?”

“You wish to find two top-notch film commentators, two suitable scripts, and a reliable production crew within two weeks,” she answered.

Gao Ning nodded, “That’s right.”

Liu Shanshan spoke with assurance, “Your requirements aren’t too demanding. I’ve already compiled a list of films seeking investment from the Film Association, as well as directors of micro-series who fit your criteria. I can guarantee you’ll find what you need here.”

Gao Ning took the documents from her. “Let me look through them first. If any match my expectations, arrange a meeting so we can talk.”

Liu Shanshan nodded, “I’ll be working from your hotel room for the next two weeks. If you need anything, just call me directly.”

“Alright,” Gao Ning replied with a nod of thanks. Liu Shanshan handed him a card. “This is your room key.”

Gao Ning took it with a smile and, under the attentive welcome of the bellboy, strode into the hotel.

Watching his figure disappear, Liu Shanshan let out a deep breath and patted her chest gently, clutching the documents. Suddenly, the lobby manager appeared behind her, startling her.

Liu Shanshan turned and gave her a look. “What are you doing?”

The lobby manager was also a striking beauty. Even in her work uniform, she had a unique charm—tall, with straight calves, her hair neatly pulled back to reveal a delicate face.

“I saw you were nervous and thought I’d help you relax! So, did you say anything wrong this time?”

Liu Shanshan rolled her eyes. “What are you talking about? How could I say anything wrong? I’m a professional secretary, and I interned at a British company for three months!”

“Three months of internship two years ago, then a long period of unemployment—I’ve heard you mention it eight hundred times. Stop dodging the question. Tell me, what’s your boss’s background? You were so nervous you barely held it together,” the lobby manager asked curiously.

Liu Shanshan shook her head. “I’m not too sure myself. The headhunter company is taking this very seriously. Apparently, Mr. Gao is the regional director in Greater China for a multinational R&D enterprise. I don’t know the rest, but just the company’s bank account has over six hundred million. Imagine the scale of the company.”

“Wow!”

The lobby manager’s jaw dropped. “He looks so young! Not even thirty, yet he’s accomplished so much. Hey, I noticed he wasn’t wearing a ring—clearly unmarried. He’s a diamond-grade bachelor. If you act fast, you might get ahead. Don’t hesitate. Strike while the iron’s hot!”

Liu Shanshan rolled her eyes again. “Enough with that talk. My nerves have just settled. Don’t stir things up, or tonight’s seafood buffet is off the table!”

The lobby manager pretended to be annoyed. “Fine, no buffet. I’ll go see your boss myself. I refuse to believe that, with my one-meter-long legs, I can’t win over a young man.”

She made as if to walk inside, but Liu Shanshan anxiously grabbed her. “Don’t mess around. Mr. Gao is quite generous. I’m counting on this month’s meal allowance!”

“Look how nervous you are. You say you’re not interested, but now I’ve caught you. One meal isn’t enough to bribe me—you’ll have to add a barbecue.”

Liu Shanshan sighed, “Fine, whatever you want. You’re recruiting business for me and still taking advantage!”

The two bantered as they entered the lobby.

Seated on a sofa near the shoulder of the lobby, Gao Ning was reviewing the materials Liu Shanshan had prepared.

He wasn’t sure where she had sourced them, but the progress of each project was detailed.

“Happy Men and Women,” urban sitcom, investment of thirty-five million, current funding progress twenty-three percent.

“Fugitive from Outer Space,” sci-fi crime film, investment of seventy-eight million, current funding progress fifty-two percent.

“Love You in Prehistoric Times,” fantasy time-travel film, investment of one hundred and twenty million, current funding progress twelve percent.

…

Gao Ning frowned. What on earth were these?

The first section was a directory; after that came publicly available script excerpts, story synopses, and partial director and cast lists.

The materials were thorough, but Gao Ning knew nothing about the film industry. Looking through them, none seemed reliable.

He closed the folder and tossed it aside, then picked up the horror film materials.

Horror films tended to require less investment, so most were debut works by fledgling directors. Those specializing in this genre were mostly small-time directors.

Such directors, desperate for investment, were usually quite ingratiating.

If a financier had any suggestion, they’d execute it without hesitation.

As long as they were promised funding for their next film, they’d even lead the female lead into the gutter.

…

“Grave on the Remote Island,” modern drama, investment three million, funding progress thirty-five percent.

“Ghostly Father and Son,” Hong Kong-style comedy, investment one-point-two million, funding progress sixty percent.

“Ghostbuster Inventor,” slapstick comedy, investment four-point-five million, funding progress ten percent.

“Hmm?”

Gao Ning suddenly felt a spark of interest and pulled out the information on “Ghostbuster Inventor.”

…

“Ghostbuster Inventor”

This story revolves around a mad scientist who, after encountering a ghost in his youth, becomes obsessed with researching the supernatural.

Through his efforts, he creates all sorts of bizarre gadgets, hoping to gain fame and fortune.

Unexpectedly, people regard him as a fraud, refusing to acknowledge his work.

Then, by chance, he meets Guan Xiaoming, whose home is haunted. The two join forces, leading to a series of uproarious ghostly misadventures.

…

Gao Ning was silent.

How should one describe this film?

The result would surely be less than stellar.

If it had been produced in the eighties or nineties, starring Stephen Chow and helmed by a good director, it might have been both critically and commercially successful.

But now, there are hardly any actors who can master Stephen Chow’s slapstick style.

This kind of comedic ghost film doesn’t seem particularly popular anymore.

Most likely, it would flop once released.

After all, four million is a sizable sum—even throwing it into a pond would at least make a splash, but in the movie world, it wouldn’t even make a sound.

He flipped through the director’s profile—just a recent university graduate, chubby and bespectacled, resembling Wong Jing.

No wonder he wanted to make a slapstick film.

Gao Ning pondered for a moment. Fine, let’s have them come in for a meeting first.