I'm not a drama freak, I can really see through the script

Chapter 426, Wang Lei: This is the end for us idealists, running until we rot.
At this moment, Han Ping was looking at the news.

The era of blockbuster movies began with "Hero".

This ushered in a golden age of large-scale investment, production, and feedback.

Judging from the results, the gains were indeed quite substantial.

And thus its historical status was shaped.

He established himself as the top director in the Chinese-speaking world.

This also ushered in an era of transformation in China Entertainment's investment model.

Big stars, big actors, big production, and a high-class storyline.

When these elements are combined...

That's how it became an excellent work.

This is also the logic behind Chinese-language commercial films.

So regardless of the evaluation of the plot of Zhang Yimou's film "Hero".

It is undeniable that this is a work that pioneered a new era.

One has been opened up.

A brand new era.

One reason.

Li Xuan's source code has opened up a completely new domestic track.

A position or status that was previously completely inaccessible and untouchable within the country.

Science fiction.

Even soft science fiction works are completely controlled by foreign countries.

There's absolutely no hard science fiction.

There is no hard science fiction in China.

This is a consensus.

There's even very little soft science fiction.

Before Li Xuan appeared, this was a science fiction wasteland.
"Zhang Yimou used national treasures and his own name to make a name for domestic special effects blockbusters."

"Li Xuan is promoting hard science fiction, a field that Chinese films have never ventured into before."

"Truly uncharted territory"

"A hard science fiction work!"

Wang Haiyang at this moment.

I never expected that the new broom sweeps clean, and that this broom would be so powerful.

Science fiction film.

Actually, it's perfectly reasonable for Li Xuan to make a move as a new official.

Although domestic science fiction awards do not recognize it.

But Li Xuan is indeed the true godfather of Chinese science fiction.

This is true among many young people.

There is a consensus on this.

Although most people say he's just wearing a science fiction veneer.

It doesn't feel like science fiction at all.

But the reputation and prestige are real.

It is completely true.

If Li Xuan were to use this title to create another humanistic science fiction work...

This was the first battle in taking over Huayi Brothers.

That is definitely the safest approach.

But Li Xuan seemed to be...

Very urgent.

Very urgent.

They directly used a special effects team to create a hard science fiction film.

"That's exactly how he does things. He won't stop and will keep pushing forward no matter what. I knew I hadn't misjudged him."

Wang Lei, who had already "retired," looked at the news on the internet with an appreciative expression.

Watch as Li Xuan tells everyone after taking over Huayi.

His actions after acquiring this resource.

There was no pause whatsoever.

Move towards your goal.

There was no confusion.

"Also, you don't need to call me 'General Manager Wang' anymore. I'm no longer your boss. You can call me 'Old Wang,' or 'Brother Wang.'" Wang Lei smiled slightly: "Just treat me like a friend."

At this moment, Wang Haiyang looked at Wang Lei with a somewhat dazed expression.

Instead of wearing his bespoke suit, he wore a very casual white kung fu outfit. He didn't use hairspray, wax, or dye his hair, and his white hair and wrinkles were already showing.

Having followed Wang Lei for so long, this is the first time I've seen how old he actually is. He used to use makeup to cover up his aging so that he could maintain a dignified appearance when he sat in his seat.

Now she's taken off her makeup.

He is old.

And it looks like.
He is even older than his actual age.

With his wealth, he should have had more room for maintenance, but now he looks like a withered old man.
To make sacrifices for one's ideals.

The energy and spirit consumed.

Let him grow old.

"Actually, I have a question. You already have plenty of money, so why do you keep pursuing this path? You don't seem to lack any of these things."

Wang Haiyang couldn't help but ask.

Even now, having lost so much, he can still maintain such dignity and composure.

Is it because the end of an ideal is not a dead end?
The wedding dress was given to someone else.

Aren't you resentful?
"Ideals are such wonderful things. From birth to now, money is something I have never lacked. You could say that I have had things that most people in the world don't have since I was born. I love art, I love Peking Opera, I love Yue Opera, I've loved them since I was a child."

"When I first came into contact with the art of light and shadow, I became fascinated and decided to make it my lifelong career to select the best works."

"Before I met Li Xuan, I naturally assumed that art should be passed down, and that it should be for people who have received the best education, are the most elite, are at the forefront, and are nurtured by art. Only those who are excellent have a higher vision and are more outstanding can produce better works. Until I was defeated by Li Xuan. That was a path that was completely opposite to mine and completely opposite to the current circle."

“Even Jiang Wen’s works always have a very high perspective, but Li Xuan’s works are different; they stand on the ground.”

"Does this seem a bit off-topic? I'm clearly talking about why I pursue my ideals in this way. It's the same reason: like all artists, I want to output everything I have to other people's minds. I want to output those things to foreigners' minds, to output them internationally, to get the highest honors, to let others see, to let others know, to stand under the highest spotlight, to let those gazes, those eyes, bombard my heart with worship, awe, longing, and reverence."

"To leave a trace in this world even after death—that is what I pursue, and that is what Li Xuan also pursues."

At this moment, Wang Lei was looking out the window.

For a "faith".

Bow down and die.

Even at the cost of health, I would give up all these things.

That's just how Li Xuan is.

This step that has been taken.

These are the things I'm pursuing.
At this moment, Wang Lei said calmly.

"Li Xuan's fate may be the same as mine: to exhaust himself for his ideals, burning himself out, just to see the view from the highest peak, to pass on his art, and to make his name live on forever."

"This is the end for us idealists—running until we rot."

"Actually, I have a question I'm very curious about: how do you maintain your health? Why do you and your nephew look so healthy? Is it just my imagination?"

"Hmm, maybe it's because I'm young and resilient?"

"I always feel like you 'don't look human' in every sense of the word." Jiang Wen clicked his tongue as he looked at Li Xuan and Wei Ming, who were both working at full power.

At this moment, he was in the office that once belonged to Wang Lei, discussing the next project with Li Xuan.

Jiang Wen probably won't contact Li Xuan again so soon.

Let the bullets fly, and his talent was worn away.

It still needs further refinement.

Jiang Wen has his own obsession and stubbornness when it comes to art. From a commercial point of view, he could easily release a "Let the Bullets Fly 2".

But he needs to consider things from a technical perspective.

We need to give the audience an experience.

A completely new experience. Of course, the physical aspect is also a factor.

Written, directed and acted.

It's an enormous burden on the body.

This is not a question of whether or not one is willing to make the effort.

The real question is whether or not one can bear it.

Li Xuan could do that.

In Jiang Wen's view.

He possesses this huge advantage.

This is an unparalleled and super advantage.

Previously, only Zhang Yimou possessed this extraordinary energy. Now, Li Xuan also has it.

Old era, new era.

Jiang Wen was very curious about the final outcome.

Li Xuan could neither confirm nor deny this.

This is indeed my advantage. While others are sacrificing their health by working 996, I am increasing my health.

This is my advantage.

The more I photograph people, the stronger I become.

And the next work.

He will face Zhang Mouzi directly.

Use "Interstellar".
This is a hard science fiction work.

"Zhang Yimou's blockbusters are not to be underestimated, and he also has a considerable international influence. However, rationally speaking, I suggest you start with the commercial film genre that you are most familiar with."

"But those of us in the arts have never been rational people."

Jiang Wen then grinned and slapped the table as he spoke.

"Just do it and that's it."

Jiang Wen's trip was also very simple.

They said they wanted to visit the chairman's office.

Actually, I wanted to tell Li Xuan something.

You have chosen a difficult path.

The path to "moving upwards" is indeed not easy, because Zhang Yimou has already set an example, and this number one person is about to take action against you.

Moreover, hard science fiction is a genre that is most heavily controlled by the Western world.

This is a head-on collision.

A head-on collision can easily burn you out.

But I, Jiang Wen, really like it.

I really like it.
Science fiction.

To go viral, you need to use it.

Under the current circumstances.

I need to expand this thing called influence.

That's exactly the kind of subject matter we need.

To enable myself, now one of the "Big Four," to break free from the constraints of this country.

This is something that neither the Medicine God nor the Awakening Era could achieve.

Late at night.

The lights were still on in the chairman's office at Huayi Brothers' headquarters.

The night view of Beijing outside the floor-to-ceiling windows was dazzling and bustling, but Li Xuan's gaze did not linger there.

He sat behind that enormous desk that symbolized power, his eyes closed, his consciousness sinking into a deep darkness, issuing commands to that familiar presence.

"System, start simulation."

The world simulation for the script "Interstellar" is now open.

Li Xuan suddenly "opened" his eyes.

There is no transition, no buffer.

I've 'traveled' to this sci-fi world.

Because what is before us is not the boundless universe and stars.

Li Xuan thought...

The first thing I noticed when I traveled through time was its grandeur and magnificence, its starry universe.

at this time.

A vision of the apocalypse crashed into his field of vision in the most brutal and direct way.

The sky was a dull, rusty yellow, thick like a dirty curtain, oppressively shrouding the whole world below.

The sun had lost its outline, only casting a blurry and weak light high above, its rays devoid of any warmth, reflecting only a desolate and lifeless desolation upon the earth.

Standing on a field ridge, the ground beneath my feet is no longer soft mud, but hard and dry like an iron plate.

The massive cracks, like painful scars on this planet, spread recklessly to the horizon.

He bent down and touched the ground with his fingers; the texture was not soil, but cold, rough rock.

He tried to pry off a piece, and with a little force, the clod of earth burst open at his fingertips with a "poof," turning into a handful of lifeless grayish-yellow powder that flowed through his fingers as if it had never existed.

The wind blew over.

There was no moisture or fragrance of grass and trees in the wind, only an overwhelming sandstorm.

The fine dust seeped into his nostrils and into his throat, making each breath feel like sandpaper was repeatedly grinding against his lungs, bringing waves of burning pain.

He walked forward and stepped into what used to be a cornfield.

"Crack... Crack..."

Beneath their feet, the withered corn stalks snapped with a crisp, piercing sound, like bones being crushed.

These corn stalks have lost all moisture and life, leaving only scorched and hollow shells.

He casually broke off a stalk of corn, the husk hanging on it was shriveled and withered. He peeled away the layers of dead leaves, and the kernels inside were sparse and shrunken, like a mouthful of loose, rotten teeth. They fell off with a light touch, hitting the hard ground without bouncing, only making a few dull "tap-tap" sounds.

There were no insects, no birdsong; the whole world was deathly quiet.

On this land, even death itself seems so barren.

I am a 'scientist'.

Are they all so hungry?

What about the ordinary people here?

An intense feeling of hunger struck without warning at that moment.

It wasn't just an ordinary empty stomach; it was a wild, gnawing sensation emanating from the deepest part of the stomach.

It felt as if an invisible hand was churning wildly inside his abdomen, twisting his internal organs into a knot. The intense cramping made his vision go black in waves. He couldn't help but bend over, pressing his abdomen tightly, letting out a suppressed gag, but nothing came out, only a bitter stomach acid rising to his throat.

This hunger, like a black hole, frantically devoured all his strength and ability to think.

Just as he was about to be overwhelmed by the pain, he looked up and saw a farmhouse not far away.

The walls of the farmhouse were covered with marks from wind and sand erosion, and the door was open and crooked.

Driven by an instinctive craving for food, he staggered over.

"Hunger. A more primal form of suffering than disease."

On a worn-out wooden table, a rough porcelain bowl lay upside down.

With trembling hands, he turned the bowl over; it was empty except for a thin layer of yellow soil.

On the inner wall of the bowl, there were clear scratches from repeated licking.

On the corner of the table, he saw a crumpled piece of paper. He picked it up; it was a child's crayon drawing.

The painting depicts green grass, a blue sky, and a bright, golden sun.

In the corner of the painting, a crooked handwriting reads: "Home".

And next to this painting.

There were only two people, one big and one small, snuggling together.

Or perhaps it's two skeletons.

There was only an empty bowl in front of me.

Empty bowls and corpses.

(End of this chapter)