I'm really good at this.

"Then it's settled." After a pleasant conversation, Zhang Hong gave a final summary, "That's the general direction. We'll discuss the specific details when we get back, then we'll draft a script and send it to you. After that, we'll discuss how to proceed."

He paused, then asked, "If I may be so bold as to ask, Mr. Liang, what is the approximate budget for this drama?"

"As long as I'm satisfied, it starts at 100 million, with no upper limit," Liang Tian said with a smile. "I have absolutely no requirements for celebrities or anything like that, as long as their acting isn't too bad and makes people lose immersion, that's fine. You know what the key point is."

Zhang Hong nodded: "I understand."

The main focus, of course, is the mecha!

If this is done well, won't your pockets be full of money?

"Alright, sir, we'll head back now. Please wait for our good news."

"Okay, let's contact each other anytime if we have any questions."

After Zhang Hong and the others left, Old Master Liang Tian fell silent again.

After a long pause, he asked, "Will Liang Luo be able to come back today?"

The chief engineer next to him said respectfully, "Teacher, General Manager Liang will be back around eight o'clock this afternoon, and should be able to go home tonight."

"Okay, let him go home tonight. I'll be waiting for him to have dinner."

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

It's 9 PM.

Liang Luo, who had just sat in the back seat of a Maybach at the airport, asked, "How is the old man's mood today?"

With his meticulously combed hair, a well-tailored high-end suit, and gold-rimmed glasses, Liang Luo looked more like a refined boss than a mechanical engineer.

To be precise, he moved away from frontline work and into management after he turned thirty.

He deserves much credit for Huaxia Heavy Industry's current success.

The secretary, sitting in the passenger seat, turned around and said, "Old Liang is in a good mood. I heard that a team finally came up with a proposal that can impress him today."

For the first time, a look of curiosity appeared on Liang Luo's refined but stern face: "Oh? That proposal that was shelved for three years actually got approved?"

Liang Luo is not yet fifty years old this year, mainly because his parents had children relatively late.

That project wasn't actually for promoting China Heavy Industries; it was simply to make the old man happy.

The old man had been depressed ever since his mother passed away ten years ago.

Three years ago was my grandfather's 80th birthday. At that time, I wanted to do something to make him happy, because people can live a long and healthy life when they are happy.

There is also the reason to improve the father-son relationship.

For some reason, the old man, who had always been kind and gentle to him, started to become increasingly unfriendly towards him fifteen years ago.

In recent years, whenever I see him, he has a cold face and doesn't want to talk.

He couldn't figure out why either.

So, as soon as I got back today, I didn't go back to see my wife and kids. I'm going to find my father-in-law for dinner right away to try and ease the tension.

The fact that someone approved the project means that the old man is in a good mood.

Don't miss out.

After thinking for a moment, Liang Luo asked, "What project did the old man approve? Was it to make a large toy or did someone provide a script to make a movie?"

If you want to improve the relationship, you naturally need to find topics to talk about.

Knowing what the old man likes can help improve our relationship.

"It's a TV series." The secretary handed over a stack of papers. "These are the other party's two proposals, but since the first proposal was rejected by Mr. Liang, this copy only contains a rough outline."

Liang Luo turned on the overhead light in the back seat and opened the first document.

"Transformers?" He raised an eyebrow and continued reading.

After reading it for three minutes, he closed his eyes, pondered for a moment, then opened them and smiled, "That's interesting. Has the old man approved of this script?"

The secretary nodded: "Yes."

"Contact them and tell them I've submitted this script," Liang Luo said without looking up as she flipped through the second document. "But it's not a TV series; it's going to be made into a movie. As long as it achieves the effect I want, money is not a problem."

"I'll contact them tomorrow."

"Um."

They remained silent the entire way until they were almost at Grandpa Liang's house, at which point Liang Luo closed the second document.

He took off his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose, and chuckled, "After all these years, the old man still has the heart of a child. These large, humanoid, piloted robots can only appear in works of art. But oh well, what can I do when the old man likes them?"

The purpose of making money is to enjoy life.

The old man has worked hard all his life, and he has this hobby, so it doesn't matter if it costs him a little money, as long as he's happy.

The secretary smiled but didn't say anything.

This kind of talk from the boss to himself is not something a lowly secretary like her should respond to.

Fifteen minutes later, back in the empty villa, Old Master Liang was already waiting at the door.

He snatched the handbag from his son and put it aside, saying cheerfully, "You haven't eaten yet, have you? I made your favorite stir-fried eggs with toon leaves and braised shrimp today. Let's eat together."

Although he had tasted all kinds of delicious food, Liang Luo certainly wouldn't refuse the old man's kindness—after all, it had been almost ten years since the old man had cooked for him personally.

"That's great." While rolling up the sleeves of his expensive custom-made shirt to help the old man serve the dishes, Liang Luo asked, "Dad, where is Aunt Xu?"

This is the caregiver he hired; she has been taking care of his father at home for almost ten years.

Actually, the initial idea was to find a reliable partner for my father after my mother passed away, but the two of them didn't spark any romance.

"I told her to go and rest first. It'll just be the two of us having a couple of drinks today."

"it is good."

At the dinner table, the old man kept putting food on Liang Luo's plate.

Liang Luo clinked glasses with his father, took a sip of his Moutai, and started a conversation: "Dad, you seem to be in a good mood today. Is there some good news to share with me?"

He knew the reason, of course, but he was more curious as to why a script idea that wasn't even finished could make the old man so happy.

If he knew this, wouldn't it have improved the inexplicably cold relationship between father and son?

Grandpa Liang chuckled and said, "I've found a young man with similar interests. That boy reminds me of you when you were a child; you really do look alike."

"You mean Zhang Hong?" Liang Luo said casually. "I've seen him in 'Bloody Youth,' and he was indeed quite good. But he's nothing like me. When I was his age, I had already won a national second-level science and technology award."

At his age, he wouldn't like TV dramas like "Clouds Fall into the Mortal World".

However, according to the news, the TV series has received pretty good reviews and has high viewership ratings.

He can act, direct, and write songs; he is indeed a talented young man.

However, the young talents in the entertainment industry have nothing to do with him, the boss of a mechanical research company.

He prefers capable young engineers, who, in his view, are better able to represent the future of the country.

This is essentially a comparison between hard power and soft power.

Just like how science and engineering majors and humanities majors dislike each other.

I don't think what you're talking about is very useful. It's science and engineering that can make the country progress.

You think I'm rigid? But the soft power of cultural export can also enhance the country's image.

They're all just talking nonsense; there's no need for discussion.

"That's not what I meant by 'similar'," Old Master Liang shook his head, then suddenly asked, "What do you think of his TV series project?"

"Whatever makes you happy." Liang Luo picked up a piece of toon and egg with his chopsticks and put it in his mouth, then talked on and on, "However, this kind of large-scale humanoid robot with artificial driving does not meet the needs and rules of reality. It is better to put it in literary works."

I'm quite interested in that Transformers franchise; if it were made into a movie, it would definitely be helpful for the group's publicity.

Grandpa Liang paused, his chopsticks still.

After a while, he put down his chopsticks and said, "I'm done eating, you can eat."

After saying that, the old man put down his chopsticks, turned around and stormed upstairs, leaving Liang Luo sitting at the dining table with a bewildered expression.

He couldn't figure out what he had done to upset the old man; he had been perfectly fine just moments before.

Back in the bedroom, Grandpa Liang picked up the photo frame from the bedside table.

There's a group photo there.

It's a photo of Mr. Liang, who was in his forties, with his son when he was just over ten years old.

After watching silently for a while, he dialed Zhang Hong's number.

That child might understand him, because people who like robots can't be bad people.

And he likes robots, so he can definitely understand himself!

The call connected quickly.

Zhang Hong: "Hello?"

Liang Tian: "Xiao Hong, it's me, your Grandpa Liang."

Zhang Hong: "Grandpa Liang? You need something so late? Don't worry, I'll definitely finish the script and send it to you in the next few days."

Liang Tian: "No, that's not it. Where are you?"

Zhang Hong: "Los Angeles, Mr. Liang, what's the matter? I can fly to Shenzhen tomorrow!"

"No need, you don't need to come." Liang Tian took a breath and sighed. "I do have something to discuss with you. I'm going to Luocheng tomorrow. Don't let anyone know. Just come and pick me up quietly."

"Okay!"

After hanging up the phone, Zhang Hong, who was still in the conference room, waved his hand and said, "Meeting adjourned. Everyone, get some rest. We'll discuss it again tomorrow."

After everyone had left, he frowned.

Why did Grandpa Liang suddenly call in the middle of the night, saying he'd come over tomorrow? And why is he only letting me know?

What exactly is going on with him?

P.S.: Daily request for votes 1/2!

The story is the essence. Although my writing isn't great, I still want to tell a good story.

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