Huayu 1999: Starting with nothing but getting something for nothing

So things went very smoothly after that. Fan Xiaotian inquired carefully about how the "ratings bet" worked, and then signed an investment agreement with Yang Che for 200 million yuan and a 25% share.

Yang Che has taken on another role as a producer. Of course, his main job as a producer is selling TV series. Well, that is, participating.

Fan Xiaotian really wanted him to take charge; he had a good image, good speaking skills, and it was he who proposed the plan.

Yang Che declined, citing his need to prepare for graduate school entrance exams, but also mentioned that he would be available whenever the television station needed him during the negotiations. Of course, one of his main purposes in investing in "Spring Bright Pigsy" was to connect with television stations.

Regarding the song "Good Springtime," Fan Xiaotian didn't ask for it for nothing; he gave 5000 yuan, saying, "That's the rule," and added, "You'll have to keep an eye on it when it's recorded."

Therefore, Yang Che had no choice but to accept it, and he also mentioned giving him a minor supporting role.

"Just give me a role as a dragon girl."

Fan Xiaotian didn't respond; instead, he wanted to check on Qin Lan.

So Yang Che called Qin Lan into the conference room.

Watching her quickly regain her composure and deliver an emotionally charged self-introduction, Yang Che couldn't help but sigh, "Some people are truly born for the stage."

Fan Xiaotian nodded. It was quite unexpected; she was good-looking and not short either. She had acted in a TV series, playing the female lead. Now Yang Che wanted only a small role, and besides, the casting hadn't been finalized yet, so there was really no reason for her to refuse.

"If you don't mind, you can play the Third Princess. You can blow words out of your mouth to attack others. You'll have about two episodes of screen time. It'll be quite outstanding, and you'll be the comedic relief of the show. I'll have someone contact you later."

Qin Lan's expression remained calm: "Thank you, Producer Fan, thank you, Brother Che."

Yang Che was a little puzzled. Was this girl so calm because of her good mental fortitude? Or did she feel that she didn't have many scenes to play?

But the next second, as if he had just thought of something, he couldn't help but burst out laughing.

Seeing the two bewildered people, Yang Che laughed a few more times, finally managing to suppress his laughter before saying, "President Fan, you really have a keen eye for talent. Qin Lan is a chatterbox in real life... hahahaha."

Yang Che laughed again, as if someone had tickled him.

The awkward thing is that Fan Xiaotian didn't get it, but he still managed a forced smile with a twitch at the corner of his mouth and said, "That's pretty good."

As for Qin Lan, she bit her lip, glanced at Yang Che, and then lowered her head. She didn't find it particularly funny.

Yang Che finally stopped laughing, rubbed his temples which were aching from laughing, and said, "Qin Lan, you can go now. I'll talk to you about the role later."

"Okay, goodbye, Producer Fan."

This time, Qin Lan did not mention "Brother Che"....

"goodbye."

After waving goodbye to Qin Lan, Fan Xiaotian began tidying up the documents on the table and then took his leave.

Yang Che was taken aback: "You must be joking. It's almost lunchtime, and we've already made reservations at Jinyang Restaurant."

Fan Xiaotian shook his head: "I'm really sorry, I didn't let you know in advance. I made an appointment with an old friend, and I have to go there now."

"Call them over here, they're all seniors, I'm just a junior and I can learn from them."

Fan Xiaotian then said, "Let's go to Shi Tiesheng's house."

Yang Che immediately laughed: "I like him so much, should I arrange for someone to pick him up? Let's all come together."

Fan Xiaotian looked troubled: "Tiesheng just had dialysis this morning, and I'm in a bit of a rush. I have to go see him and then I have to go back to Jinling."

"What does it matter? I'll just sit in the corner and listen to you guys brag."

Of course, Yang Che didn't say these words aloud; he only showed regret in his eyes.

Fan Xiaotian opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing.

Afterwards, Yang Che escorted Fan Xiaotian downstairs to the roadside to hail a taxi, as Fan Xiaotian had requested.

On the way, the two stopped talking about "Pigsy" and started talking about Shi Tiesheng.

Fan Xiaotian said, "Tiesheng has uremia and now needs dialysis three times a week, each time for four hours. He is a warm and optimistic person, and he will definitely want to entertain you and chat with you on your first visit, but he is very weak, so please understand."

Yang Che thought of this as soon as he heard the word "dialysis".

"Not at all, I was being presumptuous. Mr. Fan, did Shi Tiesheng also contribute articles to *Zhongshan*?"

"Yes, 'Original Sin and Destiny,' the first issue of 'Zhongshan,' was the manuscript I commissioned from him, which was about 11 years ago. Which of Tiesheng's novels do you like?"

"It's not a novel, it's an essay, 'Me and the Temple of Earth,' which I think was written in the second year of junior high school. Our Chinese teacher at the time held up a copy of 'Shanghai Literature' and read the second section to us. He was both crying and laughing as he read, and it left a very deep impression on me. Later, I borrowed his copy of 'Shanghai Literature' and copied this essay into my notebook. I spent a whole day copying it."

Fan Xiaotian listened quietly, then stood by the roadside and smiled, "It's quite a coincidence that in 1993 I submitted a written suggestion to the education department to include 'Me and the Temple of Heaven' in the middle school Chinese textbook."

In contemporary China, only Tiesheng can write essays with a simple, calm, warm, and insightful attitude, narrating stories that are both profound and profound, meticulous and considerate, without any forced or artificiality, and reaching a level that is both understandable and unattainable for ordinary people.

Whether in its thematic expression, writing style, or language, "My Time at the Temple of Earth" is a unique contribution by Tie Sheng to contemporary Chinese literature. In this sense, its influence far transcends the realm of literary genre.

Yang Che laughed and said, "Scholars have always been jealous of each other. Do you think Shi Tiesheng will accept your evaluation of him?"

Fan Xiaotian choked, then his expression changed: "You young man, don't always be like this, like this... You should know that suspicion breeds ghosts."

Yang Che chuckled twice and then fell silent.

Compared to him, Old Deng is nothing; he can make any joke.

Spending an hour with Fan Xiaotian made me feel younger than when I was with a bunch of young people. That's ridiculous.

Fan Xiaotian then recounted many interesting stories about his interactions with several writers, including carrying Shi Tiesheng's wheelchair to play football and going on a trip to Sanya.

Who usually carries the wheelchair?

"Me and Su Tong."

"Yu Hua isn't going to raise it?"

"He never lifted it."

"....."

A short while later, a Xiali pulled up.

The two stopped talking and shook hands to say goodbye.

"I'll send my greetings to Shi Tiesheng and tell him that I'd like to invite him to a movie next year."

"Okay, I will definitely pass it on."

See you in Nanjing.

See you in Nanjing.

Watching Fan Xiaotian walk away, Yang Che felt a pang of sadness. He really had copied "Me and the Temple of Heaven" back in junior high school. The Chinese teacher who had read it aloud with a wry smile must have passed away last year. The reason he was in that state at the time was because his mother had recently passed away.

Here is an excerpt from the original text: "Once, I rode my bicycle out of the courtyard; remembering something, I turned back and saw my mother still standing there, in the same posture as when she saw me off, staring at the corner of the wall where I had turned out of the courtyard, not reacting to my return for a moment. When she saw me off again, she said, 'Go out and get some exercise, go to the Temple of Earth to read some books,' and I said that was a good idea."

Many years later, I gradually came to understand that my mother's words were actually self-comfort, a silent prayer, a hint, a plea, and an instruction. Only after her sudden passing...