I'm a Master in India

By mid-April, Suer Electrical Appliance Factory shipped another 15,000 water coolers.

After switching to two shifts, production capacity significantly increased, breaking the 1,000 units per day mark.

This batch of water coolers was still taken by the distributors in Mumbai, and their payment is expected to arrive in about a week.

If all goes well, Ron will soon have over 5.8 million Rupee in profit again.

He absolutely loved this local sales network; the payments were incredibly fast, virtually eliminating any capital pressure.

Of course, this kind of situation was only temporary; orders from within Mumbai would inevitably decrease gradually.

Ron currently had orders for 40,000 units, half of which were from outside the region; getting payment within a month for those would be good.

These orders would keep Suer Electrical Appliance Factory running at full capacity for another month and a half, so Ron had to start thinking about what comes next.

Forming a sales team to drum up business was a given, and television advertising was also a very important part of the plan.

Putting factory matters aside for the moment, Ron specifically went to Bandra, where Mary and her friends' apartment was located.

"Is Old Rahl ready to start shooting?" he asked, lying on the bed with an arm around each woman, feeling quite comfortable.

"He's been busy with the script, shooting, and the team for the past half month. Now that the plan is finalized, of course, they'll start filming right away," Mary said, swatting his arm as her hair was getting squashed.

"I wonder if it'll be ready before the end of the month," Ron mumbled, shifting his body as his other hand started to wander.

"Shooting a commercial is very fast, Ron," Lena said, making it impossible for him to move further. "They can finish in a week."

"I have to go see it, after all, it cost me 2 million Rupees," Ron said, giving Lena a look. She rolled her eyes at him, then quietly slid down.

"I'm even a little jealous of Old Rahl," Mary said, sounding a bit envious. "He gets a 2 million budget just to shoot a commercial."

"Oh, my dear," Ron said, his expression slightly out of control. "Don't worry, you two will definitely be involved in a movie production."

"I'm planning on it! Do you know? Chandra is preparing to sign a long-term agency contract with us!" Mary's eyes sparkled.

"Okay, after I see Old Rahl, we can go talk to Chandra together," Ron said, holding his breath and straightening his legs.

After having an in-depth exchange with Mary and Lena, Ron then went to Ajay's house, also in Bandra.

Ajay was on duty at the police station, so Old Rahl's family warmly welcomed him. After entering, Ron discovered that there was another guest in the cozy living room: Vikram Chandra.

He was a freelance writer responsible for the script of this commercial shoot. He was around thirty years old and could speak fluent English.

Ron didn't know much about the Indian literary scene and had never heard of Vikram Chandra.

This wasn't surprising; if he were a famous writer, they wouldn't have the money to hire him to write commercial scripts.

The few people sat down and began discussing the specific shooting plan. Mostly, they talked, and Ron listened. He was an outsider and couldn't offer professional opinions.

The core themes of the commercial were only two: one, it's cheap, and two, it's good for your health.

Old Rahl highly agreed with Ron's earlier colloquial line, "If it's expensive, don't buy it," and thus decided to write the commercial script around this phrase.

"Air conditioning too expensive? Choose Suer Water Cooler! Electricity bill too high? Choose Suer Water Cooler! Is the wind too cold and easy to catch a cold? Still choose Suer Water Cooler!"

The ultimate truth of communication science: Repetition!

With unparalleled enthusiasm, Old Rahl performed a section of narration with a strong Indian flavor on the spot.

Ron and Chandra almost applauded and cheered for him; his command of lines was indeed worthy of his reputation as a Bollywood director.

"Mr. Rahl, what you said almost made me want to buy one myself," Ron said, very satisfied with the script.

"This is Vikram's credit; the lines he wrote are short and powerful, easy to remember in one go," Old Rahl said enthusiastically.

"To make commercial slogans simple and easy to remember, the most effective method is repetition," Vikram Chandra said, well-versed in this approach.

He had written copy for many advertisements in magazines, and this was his first time tackling a TV commercial, so he was very dedicated.

"Excellent, that's how it should be. If it can reach the point of brainwashing, that's the best," Ron couldn't help but think of Brain Platinum.

That was the model of brainwashing in the advertising world; even three-year-olds could sing its jingle.

"By the way, Mr. Suer, do you have any requirements for the actor appearing in the commercial?" Old Rahl asked.

"At least someone whose image isn't off-putting."

"Of course," he nodded. "Perhaps we should choose a female."

"Because women spend more time at home and have a greater need for water coolers?" Ron asked.

"That's one reason. Women also pay more attention to this type of shopping advertisement, especially after their neighbors own one. They will find ways to persuade their husbands to buy the same thing; simply put, it's about keeping up with the Joneses."

"Indian women love to compete!" Vikram nodded with deep feeling.

After speaking, the three exchanged glances and then burst into laughter.

They were, of course, discussing Indian middle-class housewives; only this group was the target user for water coolers. They more or less held the power over household expenditures and had a certain social standing in front of their husbands.

"So we need to find a female star who is beautiful and not aggressive," Ron mused.

"And not too expensive," Vikram helpfully suggested.

"I think I have someone in mind," Old Rahl quickly scanned his mental database of actors.

"Who is it?" Ron and Vikram asked in unison.

"Manisha Koirala, a Nepalese woman who recently debuted."

Manisha Koirala came from a politically prominent family in Nepal; her father was a former Nepalese cabinet minister, her grandfather was a former Nepalese Prime Minister, and two of her great-grandfathers were as well.

But due to political struggles, Manisha Koirala was sent to India by her family when she was young. She grew up in Varanasi, studied in Delhi, and later came to Mumbai.

Manisha's desire to enter the entertainment industry wasn't a recent one; she had worked as a model and shot commercials while studying in Delhi, even though her family didn't support it.

Four years ago, she appeared in a Nepalese film for the first time, playing a supporting role, but the response was lukewarm.

The year before last, she moved her work to Mumbai and participated in an Indian film for the first time, still in a supporting role, and it also flopped.

After two consecutive flops, her family's resources were almost depleted. After all, being far away in Nepal, the support they could provide was limited.

Her situation became unfavorable; if the two films she participated in last year also flopped, she would inevitably be labeled a "box office poison."

In fact, some effects were already brewing. Manisha had recently contacted several directors in Bollywood, but not a single one promised to sign her.

Her agent ran around every day but didn't bring back any good news, so Manisha simply hid in her apartment, drinking and sleeping.

She lived on the ground floor of a building in the Juhu area, which was also close to Bollywood but not as comfortable as Bandra.

Manisha's savings were limited, so she could only afford to live here for now. Outside her apartment, there was a small area with two faded sofas, used for nothing more than sitting to take off shoes.

The apartment had a separate kitchen, a traditional bathroom with a squat toilet, and two bedrooms. The bedrooms had no seating, so guests who came to her place sat on the bed.

The TV was always on, next to a cheap stereo system. The entire apartment was very dim; the plaster ceiling was cracked, and the walls were mottled.

But Manisha still lived quite comfortably; there was a bunch of plastic flowers on her bedside table, next to a listless toy gorilla.

In the bedroom, there was also a row of wine glasses, of various shapes and sizes, as if specifically collected. One of them still had half-drunk liquid in it.

As for Manisha, she was lying on the bed, sound asleep, completely naked.

Ding-a-ling... The sharp ringing sound made the pale figure on the bed twist.

Urged repeatedly by the ringing, Manisha finally stretched out a fair, lotus-root-like arm, groping for the phone.

"Hello... Ah! Director Rahl?... Of course, I'm free, I'll come over right away!"

Manisha jumped out of bed, her large, pale breasts swaying from side to side. She frantically searched for clothes, bras, panties, and shirts were scattered everywhere.

After finally taking half an hour to get ready, she grabbed her bag and rushed out the door like a shot.

At a seaside cafe in Bandra, Ron and Old Rahl were sitting and chatting, the sea view outside was refreshing.

This area was considered a suburb of Mumbai, but due to the rise of Bollywood, it now had the look of a new metropolitan area.

Famous directors, screenwriters, and stars had settled here one after another, ensuring its future would not be ordinary.

Just as the two were discussing advertising rates on Indian television, Manisha hurried into the cafe.

"Director Rahl, I apologize for keeping you waiting," she said politely, showing no sign of being drunk in her apartment earlier.

"Miss Koirala, please have a seat," Old Rahl nodded with a smile. "This is Mr. Suer."

"You can just call me Manisha," she said, bowing slightly, and then looked at the figure next to him. "Dr. Suer?!"

"You know me?" Ron was surprised.

"Oh, it really is you!" Manisha smiled. "I've seen you on TV and in the newspapers. Thank you for everything you've done for the Muslim community."

Ah, so she's a Muslim woman, but why isn't she wearing a headscarf?

Ron guessed it was because of Bollywood; this place was best at downplaying religious identity because you had to appeal to all groups.

"That was just my subconscious reaction, I didn't think too much about it."

"Allah says, the more you face fear, the more you can show your true self."

Ron smiled and looked at Old Rahl, who shrugged.

"Manisha, let's talk about the commercial. Mr. Suer's electrical appliance factory wants to broadcast a commercial for water coolers on All India Television. Are you interested in appearing in it?"

"Of course, any commercial for Dr. Suer is fine!" Manisha agreed without hesitation.

At this point, she couldn't afford to be picky; she needed any opportunity to appear on screen. Appearing in commercials was an important way for actors to gain recognition.

Moreover, Dr. Suer was even more charming than on TV, which made it impossible for Manisha to refuse.

"The commercial lines need to be in English, is that okay?" Old Rahl asked.

"Although I grew up in Varanasi, I went to an English school," Manisha said this in English.

"You grew up in Varanasi?" Ron suddenly asked.

"My maternal grandmother's family is in Varanasi, and I lived there since I was a child."

"What a coincidence, I'm also from Varanasi," Ron's eyes lit up.