Chapter Thirty-Six: Invitations and Favors

Chen Ling glanced at the script in Teacher Lin’s hands and asked, thinking to himself that it was a bit early for the other to be preparing for a graduation production when the new semester hadn’t even started yet and he was only in the second year of graduate school. Besides, the graduation project for the management department wasn’t about shooting a film; it was about joining a crew and working on a thesis, wasn’t it?

“I’m nowhere near the level to be a director yet. Just writing a script has taken me several drafts. I just want to see if I can direct a short film myself to get some practice,” Guo Fan hastily explained in response to Chen Ling’s words.

“I really envy you, Director Chen—shooting commercial blockbusters in your freshman year. If only I had half your talent.” Guo Fan looked at Chen Ling with genuine admiration. Although he was older and more educated than Chen Ling, their positions in the industry were worlds apart. He, too, dreamed of one day becoming a commercial director like Chen Ling.

“It’s just luck. I’m sure you’ll have the chance to direct blockbusters one day, too,” Chen Ling replied, though what he really wanted to say was: Don’t envy me—give it a few years and your films will gross billions at the box office. A movie like “Love Is Not Blind” wouldn’t even scratch the surface of your future earnings; its entire box office wouldn’t match a single day’s take from one of your films.

Of course, Chen Ling could only think this to himself. Knowledge of the future was best kept private; if he said it out loud now, he’d probably be written off as crazy. And if everything really did unfold as he predicted, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t be reported and dragged off for research as some kind of specimen.

Instead, he found it rather enjoyable to watch, from his unique vantage point, as the people he’d seen in the news in his previous life developed according to the timeline beneath his very eyes. Occasionally, he could even reach out and alter their fate. It gave him a real sense of control over destiny.

“I hope so. Right now, my only goal is to improve myself and see if I can get some hands-on experience on a film set before I graduate. That way, I’ll have more to show for myself and a better shot at attracting investors once I start making films after graduation.”

Guo Fan was clear-eyed about his own situation. Not everyone could make a name for themselves in their freshman year like Chen Ling. Most graduates from the Beijing Film Academy faded into obscurity after graduation; plenty couldn’t even make it in the industry and had to switch careers.

If he wanted to be a director, it would be hard to secure investment without a background or connections. It was just like Chen Ling back then—if he hadn’t had family support, he’d never have been able to get his film off the ground. Of course, leaving aside the factor of his ex-girlfriend’s support, he didn’t have Chen Ling’s looks or charm, so relying on others wasn’t an option.

“Senior, you want to get some experience on a film crew?” Chen Ling smiled, seeing right through him. How could he not catch on to what Guo Fan was hinting at? After all, he was still a student, no match for someone like Chen Ling who had already lived two lifetimes.

“Of course! Do you have any recommendations, Director Chen? I’m a greenhorn and don’t have many places to go, but if I join a crew, I promise I won’t be a burden. I haven’t worked on a film set before, but I’ve done animation and participated in variety show recordings—I’m sure I’d be useful.”

Guo Fan was no fool. After all, he was someone who could get Wolf Warrior to invest in a film and even star in it for free.

His intelligence was more than sufficient, and the reason he brought up the idea of joining a crew was because he knew Chen Ling was preparing a new project. It was a tactful way of asking; if Chen Ling wasn’t interested, he could just change the subject and there’d be no awkwardness between them.

Now, with Chen Ling asking if he wanted to get experience on a crew, the meaning was obvious.

So Guo Fan quickly listed his credentials to Chen Ling, hoping to make himself seem more valuable.

“If you’re available, Senior, you can join my new project as an executive director or assistant director.”

Chen Ling’s thinking was simple in offering an olive branch to Guo Fan: since they’d met, he might as well take this opportunity instead of seeking him out in the future. He could size Guo Fan up, and the man would owe him a favor.

It was a win-win, and if things worked out, maybe he could even sign him to his own company. After all, there were so many films in his head—he couldn’t possibly direct them all himself. The real path to success was to recruit more directors, become a steady source of resources, and have actors vying for his attention.

Why was there so much infighting and backstabbing in the entertainment industry, especially when a few people were competing for the same project? It was all about resources, and the higher up you went, the scarcer they became.

Look at how close Mi Mi and Tang Yan once were—Tang Yan was the only bridesmaid at Mi Mi’s wedding, but they still drifted apart in the end.

And why? Because resources are limited. If you don’t fight for them, someone else will get them. To compete, you either improve yourself so you’re not even in the same league as your rival, or you undermine them in the shadows.

But it’s always easier and faster to bring someone else down than to improve yourself.

If Chen Ling wanted to avoid all this drama in the future, he needed to become a steady source of resources. Not only would he avoid competing with others, but he’d also have people flocking to curry favor with him. That was the path he’d set for himself.

Going it alone wasn’t the way. It was all about building a capable team. Only by becoming truly powerful would others respect him—if he were strong enough, that whole incident with Little Steel Cannon last time would never have happened.

Look at Little Steel Cannon or Huayi—who dares mess with the likes of Zhang Yimou or Chen Kaige?

Both Guo Fan and his producer, Chen Zhixi, were talents Chen Ling planned to recruit, as well as some directors who hadn’t yet made a name for themselves at the Beijing Film Academy—there were plenty of undiscovered projects and people there.

“Thank you so much, Director Chen! Don’t worry, I won’t cause any trouble or hold up the project,” Guo Fan beamed with joy when he heard Chen Ling was willing to let him join the crew—and as an assistant director no less. In a commercial film, that kind of credit was like gold, something people would fight tooth and nail for.

“Welcome aboard.” Chen Ling shook Guo Fan’s hand again, thus settling the matter of a new assistant director.

As for whether Guo Fan could handle it at this stage? It didn’t really matter.

The main thing was that Guo Fan would owe him a favor.

Besides, Guo Fan wouldn’t be the only assistant director on set. At worst, the others could show him the ropes.

During Chen Ling and Guo Fan’s conversation, Teacher Lin acted as though he hadn’t heard a thing. He kept his head down, reading the script, making his position clear: neither supportive nor opposed.

In Teacher Lin’s eyes, Guo Fan had a spark, but compared with Chen Ling, the gap was still vast. He might offer Guo Fan the occasional bit of guidance out of goodwill, but he certainly wouldn’t ask Chen Ling for favors on his behalf. He knew better than most what kinds of things were appropriate to ask for and what weren’t. Emotional credit shouldn’t be wasted so lightly.

From his perspective, Chen Ling inviting Guo Fan to be an assistant director was no big deal. Just an assistant director—it wouldn’t affect anything.

Teacher Lin had a habit of reading scripts slowly and meticulously. When Chen Ling saw that he still had many pages left, he took his leave, politely declining Guo Fan’s offer to treat him to a meal. He handed Guo Fan Chen Zhixi’s contact information, telling him to reach out in the next couple of days to check in.

As for Chen Ling himself, he had other pressing matters to attend to. There was an “actor” he needed to audition, something that had been arranged days ago. The go-between was a stunning beauty. Given the choice between dinner with a burly guy and a gorgeous woman, Chen Ling certainly knew which to pick.

Teacher Lin looked up as Chen Ling walked away and said to the still-excited Guo Fan, with heartfelt sincerity, “Opportunities like this are rare.”

“I understand. I won’t let you down,” Guo Fan replied. Whether or not Teacher Lin had spoken for him, Guo Fan believed that Chen Ling’s willingness to let him join the crew was at least partly because of Teacher Lin’s influence, and he would not forget this favor.