Huayu Entertainment: Starting with Exorcising Evil from a Film Queen

In the days that followed, Zhang Ze became an unofficial employee of Tangren Film & Television Production Center.

He went to work with the core team of "Scarlet Heart" every day, participating in the second and third readings and revisions of the script.

Zhao Liying, on the other hand, was given special training by a professional teacher arranged by Sister Sun, focusing on etiquette and dialogue for period dramas.

Shanghai, Tangren Film and Television conference room.

The long table was full of people, and the atmosphere was somewhat somber.

Director Li Huizhu sat in the main seat, tapping her fingers on the table.

To her left was head screenwriter Wang Jing, and to her right was art director Chen Gang. Below them were the heads of various departments.

Zhang Ze sat at the very end of the table, with a script covered in drawings spread out in front of him. He listened quietly, occasionally glancing down to jot something down.

This is the third time they've argued about details of the script.

"I think the storyline of the struggle for the throne among the nine princes should strengthen the romantic relationship between Ruoxi and the Fourth Prince, which is what the audience wants to see most. History is the background, but love is the core." Head screenwriter Wang Jing is a sentimental woman, and she insists on her point of view.

Art director Chen Gang immediately retorted, "Editor Wang, if we're going to emphasize the romance, then many grand scenes would lose their meaning. The scenes I designed, like Emperor Kangxi's Southern Tour and the Thousand Elders Banquet, are major moments that showcase the grandeur of the era and elevate the overall tone of the series. It would be a shame to cut them all."

"We won't delete it, but who will approve the budget? Director Chen, your scenery designs are beautiful, but every drawing represents money burning through. We have to make choices within the limited budget." The production manager was a practical person; he only cared about costs.

Each of the three parties has its own version of events, and none of them can convince the others.

An impasse occurred in the meeting room.

Li Huizhu stopped tapping her fingers on the table, her gaze sweeping across everyone's faces before finally settling on Zhang Ze, who had remained silent in the corner.

"Zhang Ze, you listened from beginning to end without saying a word. What were you thinking?"

All eyes immediately turned to Zhang Ze.

Zhang Ze put down his pen, not expecting to be called out.

He wanted to decline, after all, everyone present was a senior figure in the industry.

"Director Li, I'm just here to learn. All the teachers here have more experience than me. Is it inappropriate for me to speak up?"

"There are no teachers here, only colleagues who work together to make the project better."

Li Huizhu has always been direct: "If I tell you to speak, then speak."

Zhang Ze understood that this was an opportunity given to him by Li Huizhu, and also a test for him.

He didn't refuse anymore, stood up, and walked to the whiteboard in the middle.

He picked up a marker and drew a timeline on the whiteboard, marking several key historical moments.

"Editor Wang, Director Chen, and the producer, what you all said makes sense, but I have another question on my mind."

His voice was steady, drawing everyone's attention.

"What is the biggest highlight of this drama? It's not history, nor is it simply a love story."

He tapped the whiteboard with the tip of his pen.

"It's a feeling of powerlessness."

"A girl from the modern era, who knows the fate of all history, falls into the vortex of history. She wants to save people and change her destiny, but time and time again she is proven that in the face of absolute imperial power and the general trend of history, the power of an individual is insignificant."

"She watched helplessly as the person she loved became ruthless on the path to the throne, and as her friends one by one headed towards a tragic end, while she could do nothing about it. This kind of pain—knowing the ending but being unable to change it—is what truly grips the audience's hearts."

Zhang Ze looked at the head screenwriter, Wang Jing.

"Therefore, the love story is very important, but it's not a sweet romance; rather, it's a catalyst for tragedy. The deeper Ruoxi and the Fourth Prince's feelings for each other, the more hurtful the estrangement and suspicion that arise later due to the power struggles within the imperial court become."

He then turned to art director Chen Gang.

"Grand scenes are equally important, but their purpose is not to show off skills, but to provide contrast. The more magnificent the banquet for the elderly and the more overwhelming Kangxi's power, the more it highlights the insignificance and loneliness of Ruoxi, a small person. The magnificence of the painting serves to express the desolation in the character's heart."

Finally, he looked at the production manager.

"From this perspective, we can clearly identify which scenes are essential to film and which can be adjusted. Every scene that can enhance Ruoxi's sense of powerlessness and the core of the tragedy must be filmed without cutting corners. As for scenes that exist solely to showcase the spectacle, we can consider replacing them with more clever camera techniques."

After he finished speaking, the conference room fell silent.

The head screenwriter, Wang Jing, brightened up. Zhang Ze's words had accurately captured the core message she wanted to express but hadn't been able to clearly summarize.

Art director Chen Gang lowered his head in deep thought, beginning to re-examine his design drafts and consider how to make the scenes better serve the characters.

The production manager took out a calculator and quickly calculated the reallocation of the budget.

Li Huizhu leaned back in her chair, watching Zhang Ze speaking eloquently in front of the whiteboard. The surprises this young man gave her went far beyond finding a suitable Ruoxi.

He possesses not only the sensibility of an actor, but also the rationality and overall perspective of a director.

"it is good."

Li Huizhu only said one word.

She stood up and announced to everyone, "Let's readjust the script and shooting plan according to Zhang Ze's suggestion. Meeting adjourned."

As everyone left, their faces showed a mixture of excitement and contemplation.

A deadlocked argument was resolved with just a few words from an unofficial member.

Only Li Huizhu and Zhang Ze remained in the meeting room.

"When did you start to understand these things?" Li Huizhu asked him.

"I figured it out myself while watching director Chen Fuguo make films," Zhang Ze said honestly.

Li Huizhu looked him over and nodded.

"You have some talent," she commented succinctly. "Talk is cheap; you'll be with me throughout the entire pre-production process."

"Thank you, Director Li."

From that day on, Zhang Ze became Li Huizhu's shadow.

He accompanied the film crew on location scouting trips.

Li Huizhu would point to an open space and ask him, "We're going to film a horse-riding chase scene here. How should we position the camera?"

Based on his directing skills, Zhang Ze quickly came up with several solutions: "We can use a wide-angle tracking shot to convey a sense of speed. Then add a few close-ups of the main character's face and close-ups of the horse's hooves, and cross-cut them."

Li Huizhu remained noncommittal, only asking him to write it down, and then gave her own solution. By comparing the two, Zhang Ze quickly understood the gap between theory and practice.

He went along to the actors' auditions.

Li Huizhu had him sit behind the monitor to watch the actors' performances.

"What do you think of that actor?"

"He was very skillful, but his performance was somewhat hollow, especially his eyes; there was no emotion in them," Zhang Ze replied.

Li Huizhu asked with a smile, "So, do you think he should have been chosen for this role?"

"I think it's an option."

Why?

"Because TV dramas rarely feature eye contact scenes, and the acting is often superficial, it can be improved. The key is that his salary is cheap."

Li Huizhu showed a satisfied expression and asked her assistant to call the actor over and have him perform the scene again. She then gave him a few pointers in her own way, and the actor's performance immediately improved.

Zhang Ze watched from the side, learning how she accurately evoked the actors' emotions.

From art direction, props, costumes, and makeup, to photography, lighting, and sound recording, Zhang Ze followed Li Huizhu to every department.

He was like a sponge, frantically absorbing everything about how the film crew operated.