Business Closed Loop: Starting with Ringback Tones to Take Down Giants

"You think I can't handle you?"

Stepping out of Professor Ding Ruru's office, there were two pages of paper, which were exchanged for an equipment application form stamped with a red seal, plus an elderly comrade playing the role of a father with dementia.

He knew what Professor Ding's meaningful gaze meant.

I know exactly what you're up to, but the prescription is certainly well-written.

Let's see what classic academic scrutiny you can come up with.

But regardless of the ball, Wang Song had achieved his goal.

When faced with truly excellent content, those minor hurdles in the process are as insignificant as the pictures on instant noodle packaging – only for reference.

Everyone knows what's going on, but the aroma has already wafted out, so who's really going to compete?

As a mentor, it's not unreasonable for you to help your students with equipment, procedures, and lend your name to their profile, right?

It's only natural for teachers to give students the green light for their projects.

When students want to improve and teachers provide assistance, it's a good thing to talk about.

Besides, Wang Song wasn't doing this for personal profit, right?

On the other hand, those old devices are just sitting there unused, so what's wrong with helping students out?

The aim is to actively promote positive social values ​​through participation in national-level initiatives for building spiritual civilization.

At the same time, we will explore new ways for art students to connect theory with practice.

This also provides students with a valuable, officially endorsed internship opportunity.

Ultimately, this achieves a harmonious unity between individual value and collective honor.

As for Professor Ding jokingly saying that Wang Song's reason for applying for overnight accommodation was neurasthenia...

You know what, the teacher has a surprisingly good memory.

What's wrong with staying out overnight?

Artists need their own space!

Inspiration is something that counteracts the smell of my roommate's stinky socks and the sound of him grinding his teeth at night; it brings results right away.

With the equipment in place, and the most challenging role of the father actor in the film, setting up the venue was a breeze.

A director? Does a down-on-his-luck, formally trained short drama director cease to be a director?

"So, you've told me all these principles and about honor,"

Jiang Yilei was holding a stack of newly printed venue contact lists and actor time coordination sheets.

"So you just tricked me into doing this... production coordinator, stagehand, and... general labor?"

"Your internship assignment."

Wang Song took a bite of rice. "Get everything done within three days, except for the crossed-out and confirmed items. Budget: 1000 yuan. Here it is."

An envelope was placed on top of the list.

Jiang Yilei felt a chill run down his spine as he looked at the densely packed tasks.

From small glass marbles to rattles.

From restaurants and rehearsal rooms to rental of dormitory buildings and school clinics.

From families with hearing-impaired children to directors of rehabilitation centers and extras in the performing arts department.

The biggest name in the group is Teacher Jiao Huang; she doesn't even know how Wang Song managed to get him there.

This person is indeed someone of great importance.

焦煌

(He played Kang Mazi, the first Batu Lu in "Yongzheng Dynasty". Oh, by the way, he also played Ma Guocheng, the clever deputy general. Tian Wenjing, who lost Lao Feng, also came from this drama.)

The old gentleman hadn't retired yet, and his passion for acting was irresistible. As soon as he heard it was a national competition that promoted traditional virtues, he readily agreed.

They also brought two rather vintage-looking undershirts.

The fee? Two pounds of fruit, plus a DVD of the finished film.

"Wait, I haven't agreed yet."

You will say yes.

Wang Song interrupted her.

"Complete this list to receive founding member status of Xianming Studio and a close-up shot of your face in the restaurant scene of 'Takeout' (approximately 3 seconds)."

"And Comrade Jiang, we're from the same class in the 05 Directing Department, so be spirited and don't embarrass us."

Wang Song stood up and patted Jiang Yilei on the shoulder.

Jiang Yilei stared at that line of text for five seconds.

"Wang Song".

"Um?"

"You learned your 'pie-in-the-sky' skills from pyramid schemes, didn't you?"

"No." Wang Song shook his head seriously.

"Do you know how to make a horse run like crazy? It's not about giving it grass, it's about giving it the hope that it will be able to eat grass."

He picked up his plate and stood up: "Professor Ding said it can be considered extracurricular practice and will earn extra points."

"Fine, I'll go!!"

Jiang Yilei held the paper, looked at the envelope, and finally had no choice but to stubbornly accept the task and stuff the envelope into his pocket.

That afternoon, new gossip began to circulate on campus:

"Did you see that? Jiang Yilei from the directing department went to the drama club to borrow a sound system."

"Not only that, she even went to the residential area to knock on doors and chat with the old ladies."

"I heard it's about helping a classmate with some project. They got Professor Ding Ruru to approve the loan of the whole set of equipment, and it's for... a charity project?"

"A charity project? That's it? Professor Ding is being so easy to talk to?"

"Who knows? But if she succeeds, shouldn't we go and ask her about it?"

Meanwhile, Wang Song on the other side has also achieved the feat of reversing the Heavenly Gang.

The director from the Central Academy of Drama is asking the Beijing Film Academy for people.

In particular, for the role of the father of a hearing-impaired child, Zhang Songwen, who came from a relatively obscure background at the Beijing Film Academy, was ultimately chosen.

In 2005, Zhang Songwen was still teaching at the Performance Institute of Taipei Film Academy.

Wang Song recalled an interview in which Zhang Songwen described himself during this period:

She debuted in 04 and was subsequently rejected by seven or eight hundred production teams.

At his worst, he was rejected by five film crews in one day, and he was so poor that he couldn't even afford discounted vegetables that pigs wouldn't eat.

People choose roles, and roles choose people; after a brief exchange of pleasantries, they get straight to the point.

"The pay isn't high, maybe just enough for travel expenses. But if you're willing, let's meet at the small rehearsal room at the Central Academy of Drama at nine o'clock on Saturday. Here's the script."

Wang Song placed the two thin sheets of paper on the bench and turned to leave.

"No way, Wang Song, are you crazy?"

three days later.

Jiang Yilei slammed a stack of receipts onto the old wooden table in Wang Song's bungalow, his bangs trembling with anger.

"Grandma Li from the tenement building, I talked to her three times, and the last time I brought her a bag of apples before she finally agreed."

"So it turns out you'd already arranged it with her son, and you got the keys last week?"

"The drama club's warehouse manager, and the restaurant owner!"

Jiang Yilei grew increasingly angry as he spoke, "You've already reached an agreement, so why do you still want me to go?!"

Wang Song shrugged, "You think I'm messing with you? I'm sending you social currency."

"If I recognize your face, won't it be much easier to go next time?"

"Comrade Jiang, our studio can't rely on me talking about everything forever."

"This is called sustainable development for the studio."

"Do you understand now?"

Wang Song took the receipt and handed over a school relationship chart:

"There's quite a bit of that 1000 left, it's all yours. This is the first bonus for the founding members."

Jiang Yilei fell silent.

Wang Song's notebook, filled with densely packed relationship notes, doesn't seem to be a joke.

Working for this old fox might... actually lead to a piece of the pie.

"...Fine, you're awesome."

She pursed her lips, which was a sign that she accepted it.

Saturday morning at 8:30, in the small rehearsal room.

Jiang Yilei arrived early and was busily arranging chairs, doing so with utmost care.

Who knows how Wang Song managed to trick another acting teacher into acting opposite Teacher Jiao?

The door was pushed open, and Grandpa Jiao Huang walked in.

Behind him followed a small, gray-haired old man carrying an old canvas bag and a rather old-looking cassette recorder.

"Xiao Wang?" Jiao Huang looked around.

"Wang Song has gone to pick up a family with a hearing-impaired child. He'll be there soon," Jiang Yilei quickly said.

"Teacher Jiao, who is this...?"

"Old Zhao, an old buddy of mine from the theater troupe, he does recording."

Jiao Huang pointed to his old partner and introduced him, "I heard you're on a tight budget, so I brought him along to help out."

When Wang Song brought in the somewhat reserved mother and son, along with Xiao Bao.

Teacher Jiao Huang took the initiative to greet Xiao Bao, squatted down to be at eye level with him, took out a piece of fruit candy from his pocket, and gestured "hello" in sign language.

Although it wasn't perfect, the child understood it and gave a shy smile.

At nine o'clock sharp, Zhang Songwen arrived, wearing a faded jacket, and stood awkwardly at the door.

Wang Song simply nodded at him and pointed to a chair in the room.

There were no lengthy explanations of the scene, no repeated takes; the focus was on authenticity and even greater authenticity.

The equipment was borrowed, the actors were tricked into coming, and the venue was obtained by using facial recognition.

But at this moment, in this cramped and dilapidated little rehearsal room, a proper film crew was formed.

"Everyone,"

Wang Song clapped his hands. "Our play is very simple, just two scenes: a father remembering love and a child learning to speak."

"Teacher Jiao, Teacher Zhao, shall we go through it once to set an example?"