Brother Dao Took the Entertainment Industry by Storm, Fans Beg Me Not to Kill Anymore

Chapter 70: Director Feng’s New Script Turns Out To Be—

“Thank you, Director Hou.”

Xiao He thanked him.

“No problem.” Hou Rongxuan sipped his tea unhurriedly. “Did you secure the recommendation slot?”

This round of casting was done through internal recommendations. In other words, the resources wouldn’t be leaked out, so getting this audition qualification was extremely important.

“We’ll be using one of Hao Entertainment’s recommendation slots.” Liu Rulan chimed in at the right moment.

Hou Rongxuan nodded. “Alright, I won’t worry about that then. Work hard on your own.”

Xiao He: “Thank you very much, Director Hou.”

“But—”

Hou Rongxuan glanced at Liu Rulan. Liu Rulan seemed to catch his meaning immediately; she stood up with a smile and said, “I’ll go down and get the car ready. You two talk.”

Hou Rongxuan was pleased with Liu Rulan’s tact and gave a slight nod.
After Liu Rulan left, Xiao He cautiously asked, “Director, is there anything else?”

“Take this script home, read it carefully, and think it through.”

That was all Hou Rongxuan said.

“I feel like you already have your own ideas. Decide for yourself on some things—don’t, like Liu Zehang, let his manager sway you.”

Xiao He frowned slightly, then stood and bowed solemnly in thanks. “Thank you for the reminder, Director Hou.”

“Actually, I probably shouldn’t have said so much—might offend people.” Hou Rongxuan cleared his throat lightly. “Just go for now and mull it over yourself.”

What Hou Rongxuan said could be described as heartfelt; it was truly the sort of advice and warning a senior would give Xiao He.

Consider it repayment for Xiao He’s strong publicity push for Killing Life.

Whether Xiao He could grasp the deeper meaning behind Hou Rongxuan’s words depended on Xiao He’s own insight.

…

Xiao He stayed unusually quiet the whole way back.

Liu Rulan, who was driving, found it odd and checked him in the rearview mirror. “What did Director Hou say to you earlier? You look preoccupied.”

Xiao He hesitated a moment, then shook his head. “He didn’t say much—just told me to read the script carefully. I still don’t quite get what he meant.”

Liu Rulan smiled. “What, did he give you some kind of riddle to solve?”

Xiao He agreed with mock gravity. “Actually, Director Hou would make a fine riddle-giver.”

“Could he be privy to some inside information?” Liu Rulan fell into thought. “Should we try to dig around some more?”

“He probably won’t tell us anything else.” Xiao He said, “Let’s just look at the script first. Maybe the answers he wanted to give are in there.”

“Alright, let’s read the script.”

About half an hour later, Liu Rulan drove into a high-end residential complex.

Previously, Xiao He had either been staying in hotels arranged by the crew or in the university dormitory. Now that he’d officially graduated from Hu University, he naturally couldn’t keep living in the dorms. With Xiao He’s growing fame, Liu Rulan decided to move him into a safer place.

So Xiao He was arranged to live in a well-known upscale community in Shanghai.

Of course, with their current finances they couldn’t just buy a place outright; they rented one for three years.

As for the rent for those three years… even with Xiao He’s money now, it still made him wince.

But that steep rent bought a huge standalone townhouse and excellent security—no weird people drifting into the complex, and privacy would be protected.

Liu Rulan drove into the garage and signaled for Xiao He to get out and see his home for the next three years.

This was the first time Xiao He had actually seen the place. He’d been busy defending his thesis recently, so Liu Rulan had handled these arrangements personally.

Xiao He barely had to look—just seeing the garden, bigger than three classrooms, and tears of poverty welled up.

Ah—this is the scent of money.

Liu Rulan, hands on her hips, kept nitpicking. “Tsk, everything about this house is fine except the garden—too big and kind of useless. Luckily the property management will take care of cleaning and plants, otherwise we’d need to hire a gardener.”

Xiao He: “Heh, must be nice to have money.”

Wait—property management handles that? Huh?

Forgive him; his impression of property management was still stuck at not opening doors during a fire, fire hydrants with no water, constantly making life hard for delivery drivers, and disappearing when real trouble hits…

He asked about the regular property fees—

Okay, expensive for a reason. They’d better take care of the garden properly after letting us pay all that!

After touring the house with Sister Liu and confirming there were no major issues, Liu Rulan sat down, took out the script Hou had given, and gestured for Xiao He to read. “See what genre Director Feng is tackling this time. That way I can adjust your study schedule for the next couple of weeks—”

“Okay.”

Xiao He opened the folder, and the moment he glancing at the script content he frowned.

Sss—

How does this feel…

“How is it?”

Liu Rulan leaned over. When she saw the plot outline and the general story direction, she too fell silent.

“Sss—” Xiao He asked, “Sister Liu, are you sure Director Hou gave us this? You didn’t mix it up by mistake.”

Liu Rulan: “I absolutely did not make a mistake!”

They exchanged a look, then returned their attention to the script—

No doubt about it: this script was a genre many prominent directors, and even most domestic directors, hadn’t touched or even approached—zombie films.

When people think of zombie films, they picture the American gore-filled action series with its one-woman god of war mowing through hordes, or the Korean series that digs deep into human nature amid the escape, and of course several other series that feature zombies in different tones—classics cherished by zombie film fans.

But in China?

Uh—zombies aren’t common; jiangshi are much more prevalent.

Not that domestic directors couldn’t make this kind of movie—the problem is censorship and cultural differences, which mean these films aren’t guaranteed a broad domestic market.

Then there’s the film industry level and budgetary limits: a lot of effects work is extremely expensive, meaning huge upfront costs. Domestic investors nowadays chase profit; if a movie doesn’t promise big returns and has high risk, they avoid it like the plague.

Because of that, even though censorship has relaxed slightly in recent years, nobody dared to expand into this area.

But if it was Director Feng… he started with action films. If he could produce the same kind of action spectacle as that American warrior-zombie movie, even a zombie film here could be exceptional…

“I’ll go ask the investors.” Liu Rulan said cautiously.

If the investment is large, then Director Feng’s film really would have a solid chance.

Quickly, Liu Rulan checked and reported back: “Right now the budget is about 500 million yuan, and the investors say they strongly support it and can continue to put money in at any time.”

In other words, there’s no upper limit.

Xiao He sucked in a breath.

That funding for this kind of movie was already excellent. As far as he knew, that American warrior zombie film’s last installment only had a budget of forty million dollars, which is roughly 276 million yuan.

Compared to that, five hundred million puts this film at top-tier investment for this genre. You could see how much the investors trusted Director Feng—completely all-in without conditions!

Not only the investors were reassured; upon hearing that figure even Liu Rulan visibly relaxed.

Renowned director plus huge investment equals double insurance.

Even if the market hadn’t seen commercial zombie films before, so what? Director Feng’s movie would be the first to break ground!