This director only directs blockbusters.

The meeting room was filled with smoke. Old Xu opened the window a crack, and the cold February wind blew in, diluting the smell of smoke in the room.

The projector light shone on Yang Ning's face. He stood there, a cigarette dangling from his fingers—he had tried to quit for almost half a year, but the habit hadn't changed, so he decided not to quit at all.

Sitting below were Lao Xu, Xu Qin, Liu Yong, Han Duoduo, Wang Lei, and several department heads. No one spoke; they were all looking at him.

"I called everyone here today to discuss a few things," Yang Ning began, his voice low but each word clear. "First, the studio needs to be registered as a company."

Xu Qin's pen paused on the notebook. Liu Yong scratched the back of his head and exchanged a glance with Han Duoduo. Old Xu leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable.

"I've decided on a name: 'Ningyuan Film Industry.'" Yang Ning turned around, the whiteboard marker making a clear sound on the glossy whiteboard. "Tranquility leads to far-reaching influence. It sounds understated, but it's steady enough."

Old Xu raised his hand slowly: "Yangzi, registering a company is no problem. But for our current situation, a studio is sufficient. Why go through all that trouble?"

"Because it's not enough." Yang Ning turned to look at him, his gaze sweeping over everyone. "The 'Purple Clouds' project is a success. We now hold the opportunity and the momentum in our hands—using the studio's old methods is just putting shackles on ourselves."

He paused, twirling the cigarette between his fingers.

"And—" he said, "one person can't make that many movies."

The conference room was so quiet you could hear the air conditioner humming.

Xu Qin was the first to react. She put down her pen and leaned forward slightly: "You mean..."

"Sign people," Yang Ning said, his tone as calm as if he were talking about what to eat today. "Sign directors, screenwriters, producers, actors. Make the brand big, let others do the work, we'll provide the money and resources."

Liu Yong opened his mouth, then swallowed the words back, finally unable to hold back: "Director Yang, signing a director? What about you yourself?"

"I'll make my own films," Yang Ning said. "At most one a year. The rest I'll let others make. One person's energy is limited."

Han Duoduo's eyes lit up instantly, her young face glowing in the projector light: "Director Yang, you mean...we want to become a real film company? Like Huayi Brothers?"

"Yes." Yang Ning nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "What Huayi Brothers can do, we can do too. What Enlight Media can do, we can do too. But what makes us better than them is—we understand production, we understand content, and we know what kind of films can succeed."

Wang Lei adjusted his glasses, the lenses reflecting the light: "Director Yang, this is a great idea, but it needs money to bring it to fruition. Our current account..."

"There's no problem with the accounts," Xu Qin replied crisply. She closed the folder in front of her, her gaze sweeping over everyone. "The funds are sufficient to support this plan."

His words were calm, yet carried a reassuring certainty. Wang Lei paused for a moment, then took off his glasses, slowly wiped them, and fell silent.

Yang Ning walked to the whiteboard and picked up a pen. The sound of the pen tip scratching the whiteboard was particularly clear in the quiet conference room.

"Next, a few things," he said, writing as he spoke, his handwriting strong. "First, company registration. Legal representative, equity, structure. Xu Qin will lead the effort, with Wang Lei assisting."

Xu Qin nodded and quickly took notes in her notebook.

"Second, signing people." He wrote these words, paused, and then wrote a few more names next to them. "As for the director, I have someone in mind."

Regarding actors, we already have resources, but it's not enough. We need to sign promising newcomers and veteran actors who are underrated.

Old Xu exhaled a puff of smoke, which slowly rose in the beam of light from the projector: "Who should we choose as the director?"

Yang Ning did not answer immediately.

He thought of those people from his previous life. Those who later left their names on the silver screen, were probably still working hard somewhere.

Wuershan is probably still filming GG, Ning Hao is probably doing odd jobs on some film set, and Wen Muye... is probably still in school.

There's still plenty of time; everything can be done in time.

"I have a few goals," he said, tapping his pen on the whiteboard. "Take it slow. The first one—"

He wrote down three words: Wuershan.

"Who is this person?" Liu Yong leaned closer and squinted to look.

"He's from Inner Mongolia, started out making movies, and directed one film, a soap opera," Yang Ning said calmly. "The box office was so-so, but the visuals were strong and the visual style was outstanding."

Han Duoduo was scrolling through her phone—she always had a habit of checking information frequently. After pressing the buttons for a while, she looked up and said, "Director Yang, this person seems... not very active lately? I can't find any new works."

"Yes," Yang Ning said, "so it's perfect."

Xu Qin frowned, tapping her notebook lightly with the tip of her pen: "Director Yang, I don't quite understand. We don't lack projects right now, why hire someone who makes GG movies? There are plenty of established directors on the market."

Yang Ning looked at her for two seconds.

"Because there needs to be a sequel to 'Purple Clouds'," he said, his voice steady. "A second, a third, a fourth. I can't finish filming it all by myself, and I can't keep filming forever. I need to find someone to take over."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across everyone's faces.

"Wuershan has a strong visual imagination and is good at building fantasy worlds. Give him enough money and technical support, and he can support the universe of 'Zixiao'."

Liu Yong was stunned, and the words blurted out, "Director Yang, are you... looking for a successor for yourself?"

After these words were spoken, there was a subtle pause in the atmosphere of the meeting room.

"He's not a successor," Yang Ning smiled, a faint smile. "He's a partner. Let him direct the sequel to 'Purple Clouds,' and I'll produce it. If he succeeds, the company will have another ace director. If he fails, the losses are manageable."

Old Xu smacked his lips, stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray with a rather forceful motion, and said, "This idea... is pretty big."

Yang Ning did not respond.

He recalled his previous life, films like *Painted Skin 2* and *Mojin: The Lost Legend*. Wuershan certainly had a knack for fantasy. That intense color palette, the grand imagination, the exquisite visuals—if he were found ten years earlier and properly nurtured, how far could he go?

do not know.

But it's worth a try.

"Are there any other directors?" Xu Qin asked, her pen already prepared.

"Yes," Yang Ning said, "but we'll take it one step at a time. First, we'll set up the company structure, and then we'll look for more opportunities."

He wrote the second line on the whiteboard: Ning Hao.

Third line: Wen Muye.

The handwriting was clear, but there was no further explanation.

"Who are these two?" Liu Yong leaned closer to look, his face full of doubt.

"You'll find out later." Yang Ning put down his pen, the cap clicking shut. "Let's talk about the immediate issue—company registration, get it done within a week. As for Wuershan, Xu Qin will contact him for me; just tell him I want to see him."

"When will we meet?"

"The sooner the better."

The meeting lasted for more than an hour.

After the meeting, people left one by one. The sounds of footsteps, chairs being pulled out, and hushed conversations gradually faded away. Only Yang Ning remained sitting in the meeting room, a notebook open in front of him, filled with writing.

Old Xu didn't leave. He lit another cigarette, but didn't smoke it; he just held it between his fingers and sat opposite Yang Ning.

The smoke rose slowly.

"Yang Zi," Old Xu began, his voice a little hoarse, "were you sincere about what you just said?"

Which sentence?

"About signing a director," Old Xu exhaled a puff of smoke, looking at him through the smoke, "Do you really want to find someone to direct a sequel to 'Purple Clouds,' or...?"

"Or what?"

"Or are we finding a scapegoat?" Old Xu spoke bluntly, his eyes equally direct. "What if the sequel flops? Won't that damage your reputation?"

Yang Ning smiled. It wasn't a polite smile; it was a genuine smile, and there were fine lines at the corners of her eyes.

"Old Xu," he said, "how long have you been following me?"

"It's been almost two years since the preparation for 'Purple Clouds' began."

"Two years." Yang Ning nodded, tapping her fingers lightly on the table. "Do you think I'm that kind of person?"

Old Xu thought for a while. He thought for a long time, and some cigarette ash fell on the table, which he brushed away.

"No," he said firmly, "but what you just said sounds too... too much like the way capitalists operate. Signing people, making films, making money. Cold and ruthless."

Yang Ning remained silent.

I could hear a car driving by in the distance outside the window.

After a few seconds, he spoke.

"I poured my heart and soul into making the first part of 'Purple Clouds'," he said, his voice low but each word heavy. "I could do the same for the second and third parts. But I'm only working alone, and I can only make one film a year at most. Is ten films in ten years enough?"

Old Xu didn't respond; he just smoked.

"Not enough," Yang Ning answered calmly. "How many blockbusters can this market absorb in a year? Ten? Twenty? I can't take up that many by myself. But our company can.

He looked at Lao Xu, his eyes shining brightly in the dim light.

"Let others film the ones I don't want to film. If it succeeds, the company makes money, and the director becomes famous. If it flops, I'll cover it. That's not how capitalists operate, that's called—"

He paused.

"That's called making the cake bigger, so more people can eat it."

Old Xu remained silent for a long while. When the cigarette was almost burning his hand, he suddenly came to his senses, stubbed it out in the ashtray with great force.

"Okay," he said, standing up, the chair legs scraping against the floor. "I understand."

Yang Ning also stood up, walked over and patted him on the shoulder. He didn't say anything, just patted him twice.

"Let's go eat," Yang Ning said.

"Okay," Old Xu said, a smile finally appearing on his face. "I'm starving."

When Yang Ning got home that evening, she took a shower. The hot water on her back gradually relaxed her shoulders, which had been tense all day.

I was lying in bed, and the ceiling was white; there was nothing there.

My phone vibrated on the bedside table.

He reached for it; it was a message from Xu Qin: "I've made contact with Wuershan. He's coming to Beijing next week and wants to see you."

Yang Ning replied, "Okay."

A little while later, another message came: "He said he had seen 'Purple Clouds' and liked it very much. He was quite excited to hear that you wanted to meet him. His exact words were 'especially excited'."

Yang Ning looked at the message and smiled.

It's good to be excited.

Excited people are easier to talk to. People with desire, ambition, and a drive to prove themselves—these are the people worth helping out.

He put down his phone and stared at the ceiling.

I went over the things I'd said today in my mind. Registering a company, signing a director, making a sequel to "Purple Cloud"—these were all things I'd wanted to do in my past life but never had the chance to. Back then, I had no money, no people, no resources. I had the ideas, but I couldn't do anything about them.

In this life, take it one step at a time, slowly.

Outside the window, the night in Beijing is deep. In the distance, a few lights shine quietly.

Tomorrow, there's still a lot to do.

He closed his eyes.

Sleepiness slowly crept in.