Back to 17, My Brother is the Cult Leader

It wasn't until mid-October that Fang Yuan met another important figure.

The director's office at Beijing Film Studio.

Han Sanping looked at the young man on the opposite sofa. He was tall and thin, wearing a faded denim jacket, and the strap of his backpack was still on his shoulder.

Sitting next to me was Director Shen from the Central Academy of Drama, like an old gentleman accompanying a prince in his studies, holding a cup of tea, smiling but not saying a word.

"Old Shen, your student is something else! He swept through the top three European universities in just one year! That's unprecedented."

"This child is very dedicated," Director Shen said with a smile.

"Mr. Han, you're too kind. I still have a long way to go and a lot to learn."

"I've wanted to meet you for a long time, but I haven't had the time. Lao Shen and I are friends, we're all on the same side."

Fang Yuan knew that the person in front of him was a future leader in the Chinese film industry.

He took a book out of his bag and presented it to Han Sanping with both hands.

"Mr. Han, this is a book I just published. Please give me your feedback!"

Han Sanping took it with surprise, "Oh dear, it's an English book!"

This is the newly published book, "Edge of Tomorrow," which Fang Yuan just received yesterday.

Ellie emailed that Twilight will be published next January, taking over the similar popularity from Harry Potter.

Flipping through the title page, there is an introduction to the author, Fang Yuan.

"This was just published? Why wasn't it published domestically?"

"Isn't this a matter of inappropriate topic selection? Besides, wouldn't earning some US dollars be much better?"

"Hmm, not bad, not bad. Young age, but already has awareness."

"I've read all the novels you wrote in 'BJ Literature'," Han Sanping said, lighting a cigarette.

Fang Yuan nodded: "Thank you, Director Han."

"Don't thank me. To be honest, I contacted you because I want to buy something."

Han Sanping leaned back on the sofa. "Can we talk?"

"I've heard that quite a few people are looking for your agent."

Fang Yuan smiled.

The factory manager was just as he had imagined; he didn't engage in empty talk.

He pulled his backpack strap over his shoulder and sat up straight.

"Mr. Han is straightforward, so I won't beat around the bush either."

"Since you've intervened, and with Director Shen's connections, the adaptation rights for all three novels can be given to Beijing Film Studio."

"Oh? No conditions?" Han Sanping looked at him, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"There aren't many conditions. I've already written the script; all I need to do is find a director to film it."

"Students from the Central Academy of Drama, based on the original work, and last year's film was also good, so the script should be pretty good too."

"Director, who do you think is more suitable?"

"It would be best to use Feng Xiaogang as the director."

Han Sanping paused for a moment, holding the thermos in his hand.

He looked at Fang Yuan with a half-smile on his face:

"Fang Yuan, if I remember correctly, Feng Xiaogang criticized you in the newspaper two months ago."

He said your novel, "That young upstart is nothing to brag about"—his exact words. You recommended it?

"I did scold him." Fang Yuan said nonchalantly.

"Mr. Han, you know Director Feng's mouth better than I do. He even cursed the investors of 'The Dream Factory,' let alone a student like me."

But criticism is criticism, and what's appropriate is appropriate.

"How is it suitable?" Han Sanping became interested.

"Of my three Beijing-style comedies, Director Feng is the only one I have experience with; I don't know the others," Fang Yuan said.

"If you change the director, you can't capture that same feel."

Han Sanping picked up his cup, took a sip of water, and looked at him with a half-smile:

"You trust him that much? What if he changes your script? Feng Xiaogang is no pushover."

"Changes are acceptable, but the core of the original work cannot be altered," Fang Yuan said.

"I have the final say on the script; it's written out in the contract."

If he improves it better than I do, I'll accept it; if he improves it incorrectly, I won't accept it.

Han Sanping couldn't help but laugh, and after laughing, he glanced at Fang Yuan again.

This kid knows exactly what's going on.

He placed the thermos on the coffee table and said, "I'll handle Feng Xiaogang's situation. You can continue."

"The copyright fee plus the screenwriting fee, converted into investment, plus a small amount of cash accounting for 20% of the share."

There was a two-second silence in the office.

Han Sanping didn't speak, but tapped his fingers twice on the sofa armrest.

Fang Yuan's breathing was steady, while Director Shen next to him held his water glass without moving, as if he had been paralyzed.

"20%?" Han Sanping finally spoke. "Do you know how much it costs me to make a film?"

"More or less," Fang Yuan said.

"One film a year, the first one is worth about 1000 million. The most is probably 'Big Shot'."

"My original copyright + screenwriter + 150 million, accounting for 20%, will be used to prepare for the first two parts. If the third part has too much money, I will consider it."

Han Sanping was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed, his eyes narrowing into slits.

"You little rascal, you've got a clever plan, haven't you?"

"20% is too high," Han Sanping said. "I can't make that decision myself; it has to be discussed at a meeting."

I agree to the model in principle, but the percentage can be discussed further.

"Then you can give me a price?"

"Don't rush," Han Sanping waved his hand.

"Let me ask you a question. Director Feng criticized you, but not only did you not hold it against him, you insisted on having him direct. Do you genuinely think he's suitable, or do you have some other motive?"

Fang Yuan thought for a moment and said very seriously, "President Han, let me tell you the truth. If he takes on this role, it means he thinks it's worth making. The greatest sincerity a director can show is his willingness to put his heart into making your work."

What's a couple of insults? Besides, would he even dare to insult again?

Han Sanping stared at him for two seconds, then suddenly burst into laughter, so loud that the ginkgo leaves outside the window trembled three times.

"Okay!" Han Sanping stood up and extended his hand.

"I'll take the rights to all three films, the script will be yours, and I'll try my best to secure your investment share before the meeting. Is that okay?"

Fang Yuan also stood up and shook that hand: "President Han is so generous!"

"You don't need to worry about Director Feng."

Han Sanping patted the back of his hand, his tone carrying an undeniable authority.

"I can control this guy. If he keeps spouting nonsense in the newspapers, I'll make him come here in person to apologize to you."

If he gives you a hard time during filming, just call me.

"President Han, no need, no need," Fang Yuan quickly waved his hand.

"As long as Director Feng makes a good film, nothing else matters."

Director Shen, who was standing to the side, finally breathed a sigh of relief, put down his water glass, and stood up as well, smiling as he tried to smooth things over:

"Director Han, shall we go back and wait for your news?"

"Come over next Monday to sign the contract," Han Sanping said with a wave of his hand.

"I'll read the script first and give you feedback within three days. I'll arrange to talk to Feng Xiaogang tonight."

Fang Yuan bent down, picked up his schoolbag, slung it over his shoulder, walked to the door, then turned back and said with a grin:

"Mr. Han, I have another favor to ask."

"explain."

"If Director Feng rewrites the script in a particularly brilliant way, could you please ask him if he could teach me how to do it?"

Han Sanping was taken aback, then laughed again, pointing at him with his finger:

"You little rascal, were you born in the Year of the Monkey?"

In the corridor, Director Shen said in a low voice, "You're incredibly bold. You dare to ask for 20%?"

"Teacher Shen," Fang Yuan said as he walked down the stairs.

"Didn't you see? Factory Director Han wasn't angry at all. If he thought I was asking for an exorbitant price, he would have kicked me out on the spot."

The fact that he didn't kick us out means there's room for negotiation.

Director Shen shook his head, unsure whether to praise him or scold him.

In the office behind him, Han Sanping sat back down on the sofa, picked up a book from the coffee table, and opened to the first page.

It was in English, which I couldn't understand. I flipped through it again, then suddenly looked up and muttered to myself:

"This kid is interesting."

He picked up the phone on the table and dialed a number.

"Hey? Come to my factory tomorrow morning, I need to talk to you about something. What is it? Good news, stop with the chit-chat, you'll find out when you get there."