This director only directs blockbusters.

Moonlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, casting a soft, silvery glow on the floor.

During the struggle, she would sometimes grip his arm tightly, and other times hug his back tightly. Finally, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, panting, and said, "Yang Ning..."

"Um?"

"That's enough... I'm satisfied..."

He looked down at her. Her face was flushed, and her hair was wet with sweat and clung to her face, like a well-fed cat.

He chuckled and pulled her closer.

After a while, she recovered and drew circles on his chest with her finger: "Yang Ning."

"Um?"

"You just now..." she paused, "...did you do it on purpose?"

"What do you mean, intentional?"

"It's been two months since we last met, and you're already so enthusiastic right away."

Yang Ning looked down at her: "Don't you like it?"

She paused for a moment, then laughed out loud: "Yes, I like it."

The night outside the window was quiet, with only the occasional bark of a dog.

She nestled in his arms, her breathing gradually becoming steady. Yang Ning gently stroked her back, looking at the ceiling.

In a daze, she mumbled something, but he couldn't hear it clearly. He looked down and saw that she was already asleep, a smile on her lips.

The next morning, Yang Ning woke up first. Gao Yuanyuan was still asleep, her hair spread out on the pillow, leaving several marks on her face; she looked adorable as she slept.

He got up quietly and went outside for a smoke.

The corridor was quiet. Just as I lit a cigarette, Deng Chao came running up, sweating profusely: "Good morning, Director Yang! Did you stay here last night?"

"Um."

Deng Chao wisely didn't ask any more questions and ran off in a flash.

Yang Ning finished his cigarette and returned to his room. Gao Yuanyuan was already awake, sitting on the bed rubbing her eyes: "What time is it?"

"7:30."

She said "Oh," got out of bed, and hugged his waist: "Did you sleep well last night?"

"good."

She tiptoed and kissed him: "Then I'll go wash up, and we'll have breakfast together in a bit."

"it is good."

She opened the door, turned around, and smiled sweetly: "Yang Ning."

"Um?"

"Don't make me wait this long next time."

Yang Ning looked at her and said, "Okay."

After the door closed, Yang Ning touched her cheek and couldn't help but smile, remembering how her face was flushed and she said "I'm satisfied" last night.

He still had a lot to do today, but at this moment, he was in an exceptionally good mood.

...............

In early April, the weather in Beijing started to warm up.

Yang Ning stood by the window of the China Film Conference Room, looking at the new buds sprouting from the old locust tree downstairs. They were tender and green, completely out of place with the atmosphere in the room.

Seven or eight people sat at the long table behind him—Han Shanping, Mr. Zheng representing Jiang Zhiqiang, Ms. Chen from Shanghai Film Group, and the Wang brothers from Huayi Brothers.

There were also two unfamiliar faces. One was the China CEO of an international car brand, surnamed Zhou, and his assistant was sitting next to him.

"Director Yang," President Zhou spoke first, his tone polite but direct, "Let's get straight to the point. We are very interested in the 'Dragon Shield Crisis' project."

Racing theme, international cast, filming in South Africa—it perfectly matches our brand's image.

He took a folder from his assistant and pushed it to the center of the table.

"This is our initial cooperation proposal. The sponsorship fee is 20 million, and we require at least 30 seconds of close-up shots of the character's face in the film, the car driven by the main character must be our brand, and—"

"Wait a minute," Yang Ning interrupted him. "A thirty-second close-up? Do you even know how many minutes a movie is actually?"

Mr. Zhou paused for a moment, then said, "This... is negotiable."

"We can talk," Yang Ning nodded, "but not like this."

He walked to the whiteboard and picked up a marker.

"Everyone," he turned to face everyone, "I've called you all here today for one thing—GG implantation."

The pen tip glided across the whiteboard, writing down a few words: 5-8 GG positions.

"From the day the project was launched, people kept coming to us wanting to vote for Dragon Shield."

Cars, cell phones, drinks, clothing, even lubricants—they have everything.” Yang Ning paused, “But I’ve been keeping quiet, I haven’t given up.”

Han Shanping took a sip of tea and remained silent. The Wang brothers exchanged a glance.

"Why?" Yang Ning answered himself, "Because I don't want the movie to become a pornographic film."

The main character is speeding along, and suddenly there's a close-up of the steering wheel, with the brand logo shoved onto the screen for three seconds—the audience isn't stupid; they can tell at a glance that they were paid to do it.

Mr. Zhou's expression was a little unpleasant, but he held back and didn't say anything.

"However," Yang Ning changed the subject, "the problem isn't with implanting the penis itself. The problem is how it's implanted."

He walked up to President Zhou and said, "President Zhou, you want a 30-second close-up. Let me tell you, that's impossible."

But I can give you fifteen seconds—not all at once, but scattered across several scenes.

When the main character drives your car, the camera will focus on the steering wheel, but not in close-up; it will be a natural transition as the car moves in motion.

The audience won't find it deliberate, but car enthusiasts will recognize it immediately.

Mr. Zhou frowned and thought for a moment: "Then the brand exposure effect..."

"It's better than a close-up," Yang Ning said. "When the audience sees a close-up, they know it's a 'GG' (good thing). But when they see a car in motion, they'll remember how cool it was. You know better than me which effect is better."

Mr. Zhou was silent for a few seconds, then nodded: "That makes sense."

Yang Ning walked back to the whiteboard and drew two horizontal lines under "5-8".

"After calculation, this movie can accommodate a maximum of eight GG slots without affecting the plot. But I decided to use only five."

"Why?" Wang Zhonglei couldn't help but ask, "Wouldn't eight be more money?"

"Because five will look natural, but eight will seem crowded." Yang Ning looked at him. "Mr. Wang, a movie is 120 minutes long. If you cram in eight guys, that's an average of one every 15 minutes."

Imagine watching a show, just getting into it, and then suddenly someone says "GG"—how would that feel?

Wang Zhonglei thought for a moment and then remained silent.

"These five 'GG' slots," Yang Ning continued, "are for one car, one cell phone, one beverage, one clothing item, and one motor vehicle. Each 'GG' slot starts at ten million."

Mr. Zhou's brow twitched. Ten million was the starting price, less than the twenty million they had just quoted, but if it was only a thirty-second close-up, it wouldn't actually be worth that much.

According to Yang Ning, natural implantation might actually be more effective.

"The script will reserve space for the specific product placement, but it won't be explicitly written in," Yang Ning said. "During filming, we'll adjust it based on the situation on set. We'll ensure it looks natural and doesn't affect the plot."

He glanced around.

"Five GG slots, based on the current market conditions, could conservatively fetch 50 million. If the results are good, it could even reach 60 million."

The meeting room was silent for a few seconds.

Han Shanping put down his teacup and laughed: "Yang Ning, you're making investors work for you."

"It's not about working for me," Yang Ning said. "It's about working for the film. This money goes into the project budget, allowing us to do more special effects and make the post-production more refined. Ultimately, the investors are the ones who benefit."