Rebirth 09: Starting from taking charge of Running Man on CCTV

At 10:30 p.m., three cases of beer were empty.

The table was littered with cups and plates, and the floor was covered with bamboo skewers.

The fifteen men were all flushed, but none of them were completely drunk.

Chen Yang paid the bill.

Two hundred and thirty yuan.

In 2009, at a roadside food stall, a case of Yanjing beer cost a dozen yuan, and a lamb skewer cost one yuan and fifty cents.

Two hundred and thirty yuan won over a group of people.

This deal was absolutely worth it.

……

The next day at 8:00 AM.

CCTV Post-Production Center, Non-linear Editing Room No. 3.

Chen Yang walked in carrying two denim canvas bags, which contained fourteen DV tapes and eight P2 memory cards.

With 23 fixed camera positions and 7 follow-up cameras, the amount of footage produced in a day roughly amounts to more than 50 hours.

An elderly man with gray hair was sitting in the computer room.

His surname is Zheng, and everyone at the station calls him Engineer Zheng. He worked in post-production at CCTV for eighteen years, and the number of programs he edited could circle the CCTV compound three times.

Engineer Zheng pushed his reading glasses up his nose and watched Chen Yang place the cassette tapes one by one on the workbench, his brows furrowing into a deep frown.

"Young man, how many camera angles' worth of footage do you have?"

Thirty units.

"Thirty units?" Engineer Zheng's voice rose a half-octave. "Are you filming a variety show or a war movie?"

Variety shows.

Engineer Zheng stood up and walked around the pile of cassette tapes.

"To be honest with you, it takes two days just to upload these materials to the database. Track alignment, plate assembly, and timeline organization—the Ocean System doesn't have an automatic multi-camera track alignment function; we have to manually align the audio and video frame by frame."

He counted on his fingers.

"Thirty camera positions, over fifty hours of footage, at a normal pace, would take at least half a month."

"It has to be a master craftsman like me who's been doing this for eighteen years. If a young person came along, they wouldn't get anything done in a month."

Chen Yang nodded.

"Mr. Zheng, could you please upload the materials to the system for me?"

"I'll handle the editing myself."

Zheng's reading glasses almost slipped off his nose.

"You do it yourself?"

"right."

Chen Yang pulled out the chair in front of the control panel, sat down, and placed his hands on the keyboard of the Ocean Non-linear Editing System.

I tapped the shortcut key twice with my finger.

Thumb rests on the JKL keys, index finger hovers above the marker key.

Engineer Zheng's pupils contracted slightly as he looked at the hand gesture.

Even the placement of the fingers alone is something no layman could do.

"Alright," Zheng muttered, and began uploading the materials.

Two hours later, all the footage from over fifty hours had been uploaded into the system.

Thirty tracks were densely packed on the timeline, with waveforms, images, and timecodes on each track crammed together like ants, enough to make your scalp tingle at a glance.

Zheng Gong stood behind Chen Yang, ready to see how this young man would "do it himself".

Chen Yang closed his eyes for two seconds.

In my mind, all the footage recorded yesterday played back simultaneously—thirty cameras, every second of the footage, the position of each person, every line of dialogue, and the timing of every exciting moment.

All accurate to the frame level.

He opened his eyes and placed his hands on the keyboard.

it has started.

With his left hand, he swiftly dragged the timeline, precisely stopping at a specific frame.

Use your right hand to press the marker key to mark, enter, or exit.

Ignore the waveform.

I won't listen to the audio.

Cut blindly based on memory.

In the thirty tracks of footage, he was like a precise scalpel, slicing down each track with lightning speed, each cut landing precisely on the most brilliant frame.

Engineer Zheng slowly opened his mouth.

What did he see?

Chen Yang's hands moved almost without pause.

Positioning with the left hand, marking with the right, cutting in, cutting out, dragging, and splicing—all done in one smooth motion.

Thirty tracks of material flowed like water under his hands, and wonderful scenes were extracted one by one and arranged on the main timeline according to a rhythm that only he knew.

The camera work of Da Liu chasing Xiao Zhou switched between wide shots and tracking shots, and then between tracking shots and close-ups. The three camera angles were switched within 0.5 seconds, and the timing was more precise than stepping on a metronome.

The scene where Gian is cornered is first tense with a slow, oppressive shot, then suddenly cuts to a close-up of Gian's utterly dejected expression, accompanied by the pre-marked text on his face—

"I've never run so many roads in my life."

Engineer Zheng's hands unconsciously clenched.

He worked in post-production at CCTV for eighteen years.

He had seen the fastest editors who could produce a rough cut of 15 minutes of footage in a day.

Chen Yang sat in that chair and started cutting at 10 a.m. until 3 a.m.

I only got up twice to use the restroom and drank three cups of water.

Seventeen hours.

On the main timeline, the 42-minute edited version has been completed.

Engineer Zheng stood up from the chair next to him, walked behind Chen Yang, and looked at the timeline on the screen.

He didn't speak.

Because he no longer knew what to say.

This is not an edit.

This is a dictation exercise.

This young man has a complete film in his mind; he's just transferring the contents of his mind frame by frame onto the system.

……

It was 11 p.m. the next day.

Chen Yang lifted his hands from the keyboard.

Two days and one night, totaling thirty-two hours.

On the screen in front of me, the final frame of the finished film is frozen.

Playback duration: 60 minutes and 07 seconds.

He pressed the space bar to start the playback from the beginning.

I don't know when, but Engineer Zheng sat back down next to me.

Sixty minutes later, the screen went black.

Engineer Zheng took off his reading glasses and vigorously wiped the lenses.

He put it on again.

Then I picked it again.

"Young man." His voice was a little hoarse.

"Your skills are so good, it's like the master chef was practically feeding you."

Chen Yang rubbed his wrists and leaned back in his chair.

"Engineer Zheng, you flatter me."

"I've been doing post-production work for eighteen years, and I'm not afraid you'll laugh at me for saying this." Engineer Zheng put his reading glasses on the table and looked at the screen.

"The pacing, timing, and narrative structure of this version of the film would be top-notch, even if it were placed in any of CCTV's flagship programs."

"No, it's beyond the top level."

"You shouldn't be sitting in this chair; you should be sitting at the control room."

Chen Yang smiled but didn't reply.

He burned the entire film onto two Blu-ray discs, keeping one for his records and submitting the other for review.

……

The morning of the third day.

Sun Bin's office.

The 60-minute film was shown from beginning to end.

Sun Bin sat on the sofa, the image on the player reflected in his eyes.

He didn't move after the movie ended.

He spoke after about ten seconds.

"Chen Yang".

"exist."

"If this film is shown at the final review meeting..."

Sun Bin stood up and rubbed his hands together.

"Those people on the Taiwan editorial board... they're going crazy."

Chen Yang compiled the submitted materials into a booklet, including the complete DVD, sample film creation instructions, the entire season's execution plan, four pre-approval documents, written resolutions from the seminar, security records, and a copyright commitment letter—nothing was missing.

I personally delivered it to the editor-in-chief's office.

When Ma Qianshi received the materials, his attitude was more than ten times more enthusiastic than the first time.

"Xiao Chen, I'll keep an eye on the final review schedule for you. I'll let you know as soon as there's any news."

"Thanks, Teacher Ma."

Back at my workstation.

Chen Yang tapped his wrist twice on the edge of the table, and his knuckles cracked twice.

I haven't slept for two days and one night, but I'm still feeling alright.

My wrist is a little sore.

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

A 60-minute sample video.

The simulated guest performances were amateurish and crude, the venue was rudimentary, and the equipment was limited.

However, the pacing, structure, narrative logic, and emotional curves—every frame—are meticulously crafted according to the production standards of the golden age of Running Man.

It's not a "decent" sample.

It's a bomb.

It wasn't just one person who was attacked; it was everyone at CCTV's preconceived notions about variety shows.

The Nokia N95 vibrated on the table.

Fetion message.

"Comrade Chen Yang, the final review meeting of the editorial board is scheduled for 10:00 AM on Monday, May 26th. Your submitted sample will be screened and a comprehensive review will be conducted at that time. Please prepare accordingly."

May 26th.

Four days left.

Chen Yang locked his phone and placed it face down on the table.

He wasn't nervous.

He knew the quality of this version of the film better than anyone else.

But he also knew that within the CCTV system, there was never a principle that "good content will definitely pass the test."

Behind every person sitting at the final hearing is a whole chain of interests.

Some people look at the content, some look at the budget, and some look at where the money comes from.