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

"You two are a bit late in coming to wish us a Happy New Year."

Yang Shuo chuckled and picked up Wang Song's business cigarette from the table.

Bai Baihe stood to the side, much more reserved than Yang Shuo, unsure of what to do with her hands.

Looking at the two of them, Wang Song had a general idea of ​​what was going on.

"I heard our studio is going to compete in Super Girl?" Yang Shuo quickly replied.

"Does the music video need actors? We're available anytime, no pay, just lunch provided."

Wang Song didn't respond to that question, but looked at Bai Baihe: "And you? Did you come for this too?"

Bai Baihe nodded, then shook her head.

"I...I just heard that the studio is quite popular lately, so I came to see if there's anything I can help with."

Yang Shuo added from the side, "She's shy and embarrassed to say it."

"Actually, she also wants to act. She talked about that charity guy for a long time afterward."

Bai Baihe blushed and glared at Yang Shuo.

Wang Song thought about it and realized that he had already established a firm foothold in music, online literature, and video.

But their old business of film and television has not yet started.

Wang Song sized up the two of them, his gaze settling on Bai Baihe.

Once the idea was made up, it came to mind: Bai Baihe is the epitome of domestic chick flicks.

Low budget, low workload, and easy to find a venue make a low-budget youth campus film just right.

"There's no music video," Wang Song said.

Yang Shuo's smile froze for a moment.

"But there is a script."

Wang Song quickly searched through the folders, finally locking onto his target. He typed on the keyboard, and the printer hummed.

Yang Shuo and Bai Baihe exchanged a glance but didn't dare to speak.

Wang Song picked it up, flipped through it, and handed it over: "The outline of 'First Love,' a little thing. The male lead is called A-Liang, and the female lead is called Xiao-Shui."

Yang Shuo took the script, glanced at it, and his eyes immediately lit up: "This...this was written for us?"

"No," Wang Song sat back down in his chair, "but you came at just the right time."

"To be precise, in this chick flick, Bai Baihe definitely has more screen time than you; you're just a handsome prop."

Yang Shuo didn't care about the props; he figured he was acting no matter what role he played.

"So, Director Wang, what is a chick flick?" Bai Baihe asked, puzzled.

Wang Song grabbed a sticky note and scribbled a few letters: "Chick flick, look it up yourself, or just ask Teacher Chang Li."

Yang Shuo chuckled twice and tucked the script into his coat.

Bai Baihe finally spoke, her voice trembling slightly: "Director Wang, this...this is too sudden, we..."

"Don't get excited." Wang Song raised his hand to interrupt her. "It's just an outline. The complete script still needs polishing, and..."

He paused.

"The studio is currently short of funds. Of course, if you have a relative who's a coal mine owner, you could get me a few hundred thousand yuan in investment."

"Power on now"

Both of them shook their heads.

"So, take the outline back and take a look first. We'll talk about it again when we have the money."

"When will that be?" Yang Shuo asked.

"I don't know, maybe six months, maybe a year, maybe..."

Wang Song didn't finish his sentence, but he conveyed the meaning.

Bai Baihe looked down at the script in her hand and didn't say anything.

Yang Shuo stood there and nodded.

He reached out and took the entire pack of freshly opened cigarettes from Wang Song's desk.

"Borrow two sticks, to find inspiration."

As he left, he glanced at the pile of documents on Wang Song's desk, the dense text giving him a headache just looking at it.

Wang Song looked at the empty desk and laughed in exasperation. Where was the lighter?

Yang Shuo and Bai Baihe walked side by side as they left the studio.

When Yang Shuo reached the entrance of the cafeteria, he suddenly stopped.

"What's wrong?" Bai Baihe looked up.

Yang Shuo didn't speak, staring at the notice board.

The bulletin board was covered with colorful "GG"s and a bunch of similarly formatted studio recruitment notices.

We're not looking for campus singer-songwriters! Direct access to SP channels is all about boasting mature operational experience and claiming you could be the next Papi Jiang.

Their titles are all incredibly prestigious.

Ultimately, they'll be tempted by the right to attribution and revenue sharing, and a seemingly decent email address.

Bai Baihe whispered, "So many people are just following the trend?"

After walking a few steps, I saw Jiang Yilei walking towards me from the direction of the administration building.

He was carrying a stack of documents, flipping through them as he walked, his brow furrowed, muttering something to himself.

"Vice President Jiang!" Yang Shuo called out.

Jiang Yilei looked up and saw the two of them: "What are you doing here?"

"Just came from your studio." Yang Shuo leaned closer, glancing at the documents in her hand. "What's this? A report?"

"Would you like to ask the school for some support?"

Yang Shuo took it, flipped through a couple of pages at random, and found it to be the same old story.

First, state the value, then explain the difficulties, and finally, explain what goals you want to achieve with the school's support.

Yang Shuo put down the document, waved his hand, and said, "Vice President Jiang, you go ahead and get back to work."

After Jiang Yilei had walked away, Yang Shuo spoke softly.

"Lily, do you think we can learn from Boss Wang's methods?"

Bai Baihe was taken aback for a moment: "Learn what?"

"It's just..." Yang Shuo gestured, indicating the name, "writing reports, contacting schools, asking for resources. His routine of exchanging reports for things."

Bai Baihe thought for a moment: "You mean, we should also write a report and ask Professor Chang Li for support?"

"right!"

"But..." Bai Baihe hesitated, "Would it be alright if we wrote a report?"

"Why not give it a try? It doesn't cost any money," Yang Shuo said.

"Character biographies and scene outlines—we can write those when we get back. Then we can do some research on things like chick flicks, market gaps, and campus creative talent..."

As he spoke, he became excited himself.

Bai Baihe couldn't help but laugh when she saw his expression.

Two days later, in Professor Chang Li's office.

Yang Shuo handed over the report that he had worked on all night.

Application for producing the youth film "First Love" and exploring the localization path of chick flicks.

Chang Li took it, but didn't look at it right away. She took off her glasses and rubbed her temples.

"You have the script?"

"Got it! It was written by Wang Song from the 05 class of the Directing Department." Yang Shuo straightened his back.

The mention of Wang Song's name makes the report seem to carry a different weight.

"We've done our research, and there's a void in domestic films targeting young women. Hollywood has a mature genre called Chick Flick, which I call 'chick flick'."

"This is a proactive exploration, and it's also how we connect with society before graduation..."

He spoke more and more fluently and vividly, recounting all the information he had researched over the past two days.

Bai Baihe listened from the side, her toes secretly digging into the ground.

Chang Li remained silent, slowly flipping through the report. When he reached a certain page, his fingers stopped.

She looked up: "Do you know what 'Chick flick' means in the North American film critics' world these days?"

Yang Shuo hesitated, stammering, "Well... a lighthearted story geared towards women..."

"It's a derogatory term," Chang Li said flatly. "It means this thing is superficial, cheap, and only for fooling young girls; it has no depth."

The office fell silent.

Yang Shuo and Bai Baihe lowered their heads even further.

Chang Li continued flipping through the pages, reading a few lines: "Actively exploring, filling market gaps, and serving as a bridge connecting campus creative forces with society..."

She read it aloud, then suddenly smiled.

It wasn't mockery, but the helplessness of seeing a student calculate 1+1 as 3.

"The report is quite well-written."

Chang Li closed the report. "Format, terminology, and perceived value—you learned quite quickly. Did you learn from Wang Song?"

Yang Shuo didn't dare to deny it.

"This month, the teachers received dozens of reports, all of which were based on his work."

"It's all just sentimentality and jargon. The budget is only one page long, the distribution channels are yet to be determined, and there's no risk assessment. How can you expect me to invest in you?"

Their heads were practically drooping to their chests.

"However..." Chang Li changed the subject.

"This was your own idea, wasn't it? Actively seeking out projects is better than sitting around waiting to be fed."

She stood up and rummaged through the drawer for a while.

"I've read the script; the framework is alright."

"Since you're so interested, here are the reports your seniors got from those film and television companies. Take them back and take a look."

"If you really want to do this, a graduation play would be enough."

A dramatic turn of events! Yang Shuo immediately straightened his back: "We really want to do it! Professor, we're not afraid to make changes!"

Professor Chang Li nodded. "Take the manuscript back and perfect it before you come back to me to discuss the next steps."

"Thank you, Professor!"

Emerging from the office, Bai Baihe nearly jumped for joy: "Brother Shuo! Professor... agreed?"

Yang Shuo couldn't hide his excitement either, "Let's go back and revise the script!"

……

"Sure, you two, shouldn't you pay some tuition fees?"

Wang Song was quite happy to agree.

After all, nobody wants to write reportage that resembles modern-day formulaic writing.

Yang Shuo pulled the stolen Zippo cigarette out of his bag and chuckled.

"So, Director Wang, what do you think about perfecting the script?"

Wang Song didn't respond, but changed the subject, "You guys go and invite Chen Shu to dinner."

Yang Shuo scratched his head.

"Hmm?" Wang Song glanced at him.

"It's not like you have to do any writing. Is it really so bad for you to treat her to a meal? She has work to do, but it's just a meal..."

Yang Shuo immediately waved his hand: "No, no, it's on me, it's on me."

Chen Shu stood up and nodded in acknowledgment.

Are you unwilling to take on more work?

The new regulations have finally come down to her; editors can now receive 3% of the film's box office revenue and also get a free meal.

Isn't it beautiful?