Entertainment: A whirlwind marriage with a fairy-like mother at the start!

Yu Le picked up the now-cold tea on the table and took a sip.

Two million dollars is not a lot of money in Hollywood.

Compared to production costs that often run into hundreds of millions, this amount of money is at best a stepping stone.

Old Mike leaned back on the sofa, quietly observing the young Chinese boss.

He had seen far too many Asian tycoons waving their checkbooks and barging into Hollywood.

Those people are often wealthy and powerful, but also extremely arrogant, always thinking that money can buy them anything in Hollywood.

The result is often that they are skinned alive by the combined efforts of various labor unions and cinema chains, and finally slink back to their hometown in disgrace.

He originally thought Yu Le would also slam his fist on the table and curse Hollywood as robbers.

Yu Le put down his teacup.

"Luo Xiang, write a check for Mr. Mike."

Old Mike was stunned.

He had prepared a whole host of persuasive arguments, but he didn't need to use any of them.

Luo Xiang moved very quickly, took out a checkbook from his briefcase, filled in the amount, and pushed it in front of Old Mike.

"Mr. Mike, please complete the subsequent membership procedures for the foundation as soon as possible."

Luo Xiang's voice was completely flat and terrifyingly mechanical.

Old Mike picked up the check, glanced at the number, and then laughed.

"Mr. Yu is a very straightforward person."

"Rest assured, with this status, the theaters will never dare to hold back the films that Saltyfish Entertainment distributes in North America."

Old Mike carefully put the check into his pocket, stood up, and prepared to leave.

He is now very happy with his new job.

The boss is rich and knows the rules, that's enough.

After Old Mike left, only Yu Le and Luo Xiang remained in the spacious office.

Yu Le stood up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and looked down at the bustling streets of Century City.

"When in Rome, do as the Romans do; pay a fee for your safety."

"But we Chinese don't want to be taken advantage of."

Yu Le turned around and tapped her fingers twice on the desk.

"The payment account, the flow of funds, the list of cross-shareholdings behind the foundation, and the audio recordings of every contact with them."

"Keep all of them on file for my records."

Luo Xiang adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and nodded in agreement.

"Don't worry, boss, I've already arranged everything."

Yu Le smiled.

This is his style of doing things.

Rules can be followed, and protection money can be paid.

But this money wasn't taken for nothing; it meant they had leverage over the other party.

When the day comes that things get really messed up, this won't be protection money, it'll be a death sentence.

New York, Manhattan.

Fox 2000 rented an entire old apartment building to serve as the pre-production office for "The Devil Wears Prada".

Liu Qianqian stood in front of a huge floor-length mirror.

Hollywood's top stylist Patricia Field is swooning over her.

Patricia sported an extremely flamboyant head of red hair.

Holding several safety pins, she quickly tightened the waistband of Liu Qianqian's skirt.

"Honey, your proportions are too good, it's making me very distressed."

Patricia bit her lower lip and complained.

"I have to figure out how to squeeze you into these oversized, old-fashioned clothes and make you look clumsy enough."

Liu Qianqian gripped the hem of her skirt with both hands, not daring to move at all.

In my heart, I could only sigh helplessly: I'm beautiful, is it my fault?

........

In the afternoon, filming for "The Devil Wears Prada" officially began.

Half of Fifth Avenue was blocked off.

The area was crowded with onlookers and paparazzi.

Liu Qianqian wore a bulky dark blue sweater paired with a shapeless plaid skirt.

She was wearing a pair of very ordinary flat shoes.

She was holding four paper cups of coffee and a thick stack of dry cleaning clothes.

His hair was a bit messy, and he even had a pair of old-fashioned black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

It completely obscured her original stunning appearance.

Director David sat behind the monitor, directing the scene with a megaphone.

Yu Le sat quietly in the director's chair, sipping his coffee.

A black Mercedes-Benz S-Class sedan slowly drove into the filming area and stopped in front of the office building entrance.

The entire room fell silent instantly.

The car door opened.

A foot wearing a red high heel is on the ground.

Meryl Streep came out.

She sported her signature short, silver-white hair and wore a dark trench coat with an extremely fitted cut.

She was carrying an expensive Prada handbag.

There were no exaggerated expressions, nor any unnecessary movements.

She simply stood there, and the oppressive aura of a superior radiated directly throughout the entire room.

All the staff members subconsciously lowered their breathing.

The Great Demon King has joined the cast.

"All departments, prepare!" David shouted.

The clapperboard maker walked in front of the camera.

"The Devil Wears Prada, Scene 7, Shot 1, Action!"

The camera follows Meryl's footsteps.

She strode into the lobby of the office building, her high heels clicking on the marble floor.

Following the correct movement, Liu Qianqian rushed out of the elevator next to her.

The two met face to face at the elevator entrance.

Liu Qianqian almost dropped the dry cleaning clothes she was carrying because she was walking too fast.

She hurriedly grabbed her clothes, spilling a little coffee onto her sweater.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Miranda," Liu Qianqian stammered in apology.

Meryl stopped in her tracks.

She didn't look down at Liu Qianqian.

She simply turned her head slightly and took off her sunglasses.

He looked Liu Qianqian up and down.

It was an extremely critical and contemptuous scrutiny.

"Who are you?" Meryl's voice wasn't loud, but each word was clear.

Liu Qianqian was completely enveloped by that aura.

She felt her mind go blank for a moment.

The lines he knew by heart were stuck in his throat, and he just couldn't say them.

She stood still, even taking a half-step back.

"Cut!" Director David shouted.

He took off his headphones and shook his head with a hint of helplessness.

"Andy, your reaction is wrong."

"You should indeed be scared, but you should show a panicked eagerness to explain, rather than being completely stunned."

The atmosphere at the scene was somewhat somber.

Everyone knows that Meryl's time is very precious.

Getting rejected on the very first try is a significant blow to a newcomer.

Liu Qianqian's face turned bright red.

Just then, Meryl turned around.

She walked up to Liu Qianqian and handed the Prada bag in her hand to the assistant next to her.

"Child, lift your head." Meryl's tone was gentle, completely unlike Miranda's coldness just now.

Liu Qianqian looked up, her face full of apology.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Streep, I was just too nervous."

Meryl smiled.

She reached out and straightened the neckline of Liu Qianqian's bulky sweater.

"Being nervous is normal."

"Andy was originally a newbie who stumbled into this unfamiliar world."

"But you don't need to treat me like an invincible monster."