PDLP Chapter 459 Getting the Script
Chapter 459 Getting the Script
The morning after the wedding, Lu Ran was woken up by her phone vibrating.
It wasn't an alarm clock, but messages from Chen Mo, several in a row, coming in like a machine gun.
Lu Ran squinted and swiped the screen. The first article was "European server peaked at over one million last night," the second was "German player forums were flooded with posts last night," and the third was a screenshot of a headline from a British gaming media outlet, with the headline "League of Legends tops European server, Chinese game leads European market for the first time."
Lu Ran put her phone next to her pillow and turned over.
Shen Yuege was still asleep, wrapped tightly in the blanket, with only the top of her head showing.
He stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, then picked up his phone again and texted Chen Mo: "Breaked a million?"
Chen Mo replied instantly: "It's broken. We rushed up at 3 AM. The operations team in Europe messaged us saying that the server load almost reached full capacity again during peak hours last night, thankfully you added two more servers beforehand."
Lu Ran put down her phone and got up to wash up.
As he stood in front of the sink brushing his teeth, his mind was already racing with thoughts of the day.
Zheng Guohua arrived at 2 PM, and He Fei arrived at 3 PM. The two wanted to read different scripts, one a comedy and the other a romance, with completely different styles.
He needs to prepare both scripts in advance, lest he make a fool of himself by flipping to the wrong file.
When he arrived at the company, it was not yet nine o'clock, and there were already seven or eight people sitting in the office.
Zhou Mingzhe was standing at the entrance of the break room talking to Lao Wang, holding a steaming cup of tea. Seeing Lu Ran enter, he gestured with his chin: "Did you know the EU server surpassed one million?"
"I saw it. Chen Mo sent me a message."
"It's not just the European server," Zhou Mingzhe said calmly, taking a sip of tea. "The forums in the US are exploding too. Even though American players can't play, they're all discussing the European server data."
Lu Ran took the tablet computer from Zhou Mingzhe. The screen displayed a page from an American gaming forum.
The post titles were varied, ranging from criticizing the official stance and policies to expressing envy for European players. Some even posted lengthy analyses of why Chinese games could produce such high-quality content.
The most outrageous post was titled "I spent three days learning how to use a German VPN, only to find out that account registration requires a European phone number," and it received hundreds of replies, all of them lamenting the same fate.
Lu Ran handed the tablet back to Zhou Mingzhe: "Keep an eye on it. Don't slack off on operations in Europe; continue with the planned activities as scheduled."
"Chen Mo is already making arrangements," Zhou Mingzhe said, putting down his teacup. "He's more proactive than you. He just joined yesterday, and today he held a two-hour meeting with the operations department to go over the entire event schedule for the European server for the next month."
Lu Ran laughed: "Since he's already here, he should at least have something to do."
He returned to his office, turned on his computer, and retrieved the script files for "Goodbye Mr. Loser" and "Ex-Files" from the system library.
Both scripts had been downloaded long ago and placed in a folder called "To Be Released," next to which were several other titles: "The Unknown," "Dying to Survive," and "Hi, Mom"—each a work that had been market-tested in a previous life.
He stared at the filenames in the folder for a few seconds, then closed the window and focused his attention on the two scripts he would be using that day.
Zheng Guohua arrived on time at 2 PM.
He was dressed much more casually today than at the wedding, wearing a light gray jacket over a white crew-neck T-shirt and sneakers.
After entering the office, he looked around and said, "Your office is bigger than I expected." Then he sat down on the sofa, leaned forward slightly, and placed his hands on his knees, looking like he was ready to hear something important.
Lu Ran handed him the printed script of "Goodbye Mr. Loser", then sat down on the single sofa opposite him and poured him a cup of tea.
Zheng Guohua took the script and his expression was calm when he opened the first page. When he opened the third page, his eyebrows twitched. When he opened the tenth page, he sat up straight. When he opened the twentieth page, he put the script on his lap and looked up at Lu Ran.
"This notebook," Zheng Guohua tapped the cover twice with his finger, "are you finished writing in it?"
"Finished writing."
"Is it all written from beginning to end?"
"It's all finished. I can send you the electronic version if you want."
Zheng Guohua was silent for a few seconds, then reopened the script, turned to the last page, read the last page of lines, and then closed the script and placed it on the coffee table. He picked it up and put it down again, as if there was some kind of ritual involved in picking it up and putting it down.
He said, "Teacher Lu, I'm not going to beat around the bush. I want this notebook. Name your terms."
Lu Ran picked up his teacup and took a sip: "Don't rush to set conditions. Read it first. If you're satisfied, then we can discuss conditions. If you think anything needs changing, feel free to suggest it. I'll change what I can, and explain why what I can't."
Zheng Guohua nodded and put the script into the file bag he had brought. "Okay. I'll go back and look at it, and give you an answer tomorrow. But basically, there shouldn't be any problems. The first half I read is already quite complete, and the rest shouldn't be any worse."
He stood up to leave, but turned back at the door and added, "By the way, Teacher Lu, I heard you also gave He Fei a love notebook?"
"Yes. He'll be here this afternoon."
Zheng Guohua nodded, said nothing more, and left.
He Fei arrived less than half an hour after he left.
He Fei was still wearing that bright orange polo shirt, but today he changed into dark casual pants, making him look more formal than he did at the wedding.
After he entered, he didn't exchange many pleasantries. The first thing he said after sitting down was, "Where's the notebook?" Lu Ran handed him a printed copy of "The Ex-Boyfriend Guide."
He Fei flipped through the script much faster than Zheng Guohua; he was like someone picking vegetables at a market, glancing at each page a few times before turning the page.
But he stopped halfway through, reread that page, flipped back two pages, and then looked up to ask, "Did you write the lines for this breakup scene yourself?"
"Yes."
"It's very well written." He Fei put down the script, tapped his fingers twice on the cover, and said, "I'll take this script. But I have a question: what's the approximate budget for this film?"
Lu Ran gave a number, and He Fei listened without any change in expression. He then asked another question: "Do you have any recommendations for actors?"
Lu Ran thought for a moment: "I have a few options, but I'm not sure if their schedules will match. You should approve the project first, and we can discuss the casting later."
He Fei readily agreed.
Unlike Zheng Guohua, he didn't take the script back with him. Instead, he took out his phone and took pictures of the first few dozen pages, saying that he would read the rest of the electronic version when he got back, and that he would get a general idea of what it was like on the spot.
He stood up and shook hands with Lu Ran: "Then I'll go back and have the team prepare the project proposal materials, and I'll give you a preliminary plan next week."
"good."
After He Fei left, the office became quiet.
Lu Ran leaned back on the sofa and rested for a while, going over the two feedback reports he had received that day in his mind.
Zheng Guohua and He Fei are both efficient people, straightforward and to the point. Working with them is worry-free.
He stood up, walked to the window, and looked down at the street.
The sky in Shanghai in September is very high and blue, with thin clouds spread across the sky. The sunlight is not as harsh as in summer, and it feels warm and pleasant on the skin.
He recalled when he first came into this world, he had to start everything from scratch.
He now has a bunch of scripts in his hands, waiting in line to be filmed.
He took out his phone and sent a message to Zhou Mingzhe: "Both notebooks have been sent out. One was given to Zheng Guohua, and the other to He Fei."
Zhou Mingzhe replied instantly: "You're handing out scripts like flyers again?"
"That's called targeted delivery."
Zhou Mingzhe replied with an ellipsis.
Lu Ran ignored him and continued looking at the sky outside the window.
He suddenly realized that life was heading in a direction he hadn't fully anticipated.
He originally just wanted to make the game better and help Tutu Technology gain a foothold.
Now, not only has the game industry established itself, but the scripts are also being disseminated, with several dramas entering the preparation stage simultaneously. It won't be long before audiences can see them on screen.
He remembered Lin Wei, the young woman who handed him her resume at Tan Yu's wedding.
His photo is saved on his phone; he will remember her.
The next morning, Sun Yiming arrived on time.
He arrived at the company reception desk earlier than Zheng Guohua and He Fei, at 10:00 AM sharp, wearing a black long-sleeved shirt and carrying nothing in his hands.
Lu Ran welcomed him into the office, and this time he didn't beat around the bush, taking out the script of "Ming Dynasty 1566" directly from the drawer.
Sun Yiming took the script but did not open it immediately.
He first weighed the script in his hand to gauge its weight, then turned to the first page and began to read.
He read very slowly, even slower than Zheng Guohua.
I would linger on each page for a long time, sometimes staring at a particular line of dialogue over and over again, and sometimes closing the script, thinking for a while with my eyes closed before reopening it.
Lu Ran sat opposite him, neither urging him nor speaking, occasionally refilling his teacup.
After he finished reading the last page, Sun Yiming closed the script, laid it flat on his lap, and said his first words: "How long did it take you to write this script?"
Lu Ran had already prepared his answer: "It took me quite a while to write, on and off."
Sun Yiming nodded, not pressing for details. He remained silent for a moment, his fingers unconsciously tracing the script cover, then looked up at Lu Ran: "I'm going to film this script. I'll find the investment, I'll cast the actors, and I'll schedule the filming. But I need you involved throughout the entire process, not just as a figurehead. The dialogue density and character relationships in this drama are too complex. Without the screenwriter overseeing things on set, any deviation in any环节 will diminish the overall effect."
Lu Ran leaned back on the sofa and thought for a moment: "Being involved throughout the entire process might not be realistic. I have commitments on several different projects and can't be with the team all the time. But I can check in periodically and communicate any issues that arise. If you encounter any changes you're unsure about, feel free to call me."
Sun Yiming thought for a moment and nodded: "Okay. Keep in touch."
He stood up, tucked the script under his arm, and shook hands with Lu Ran.
His hands were dry and strong. After shaking hands, he didn't exchange any more pleasantries, turned around and left, taking large and steady steps, just like the way he left on the night of the wedding.
Lu Ran stood at the office door watching him walk into the elevator, then turned around and went back to her room, circling the date after Sun Yiming's name on the calendar.
Three scripts, three plays, three directors—all found owners within three days.
This progress is much faster than he expected.
For the next period of time, all he had to do was cooperate with the three directors to bring the script to fruition, be on set when necessary, revise the script when necessary, and cast the actors when necessary.
He was about to go to the tea room to get a glass of water when his phone vibrated.
It was a message from Chen Mo. This time it wasn't a data report, but a screenshot.
The screenshot is a news page from an American media outlet, with a headline that roughly translates to "American gamers organize a march to the White House, calling for the lifting of import restrictions on Chinese games."
...