“I told you already, nobody watches your scripts. Faking a faint won’t help you here.”

“If you understand, then beat it.”

“What is wrong with you? Why are you still hanging around?”

Lin Ji felt a sharp, stinging pain in his brain. His vision blurred, swimming in and out of focus. It took a long moment before he could steady himself and stand up, his gaze blankly sweeping across the bustling lobby before him.

The surroundings felt familiar enough. The massive screen on the wall was looping dazzling promotional trailers for various TV dramas. For someone like Lin Ji, who frequently moved in and out of television stations, this scene couldn’t be more routine.

However, this wasn’t any TV station he had ever set foot in before.

Anyone who had been hit head-on by a car one second, only to appear in a completely strange building the next, would be hard-pressed to maintain more composure than Lin Ji was showing right now.

“Do I have to repeat myself? Take your trash scripts and get out of here. Nobody reads them!” Seeing Lin Ji standing motionless, the man’s disgust deepened. He shoved Lin Ji hard, practically pushing him out of the way.

For Lin Ji, this was the moment he heard the most unbelievable sentence of his entire life, his scripts, unread.

As a Gold Medal screenwriter in the entertainment industry, Lin Ji held over a dozen massive hit dramas in his portfolio. Even if he just lent his name to a project, it was enough to bring significant benefits to the production.

Excluding his first two years as a rookie, it had been a very long time since anyone dared to speak to him like this.

While Lin Ji was still processing his current predicament, another unfamiliar face leaned in and patted his shoulder. “Just think about the ratings for Snow in Early May. Sigh… Lin Ji, you should change careers while you can.”

There was pity in the man’s eyes, mixed with mockery. At the same moment, the gazes of the passersby shifting toward him were laced with sympathy.

Snow in Early May.

The title acted like a trigger word. In an instant, a flood of memories that didn’t belong to him surged into Lin Ji’s mind.

…

Lin Ji had indeed transmigrated. He had taken over the body of a minor screenwriter who shared his name and surname.

Unlike the entertainment industry of Lin Ji’s previous life, in this world, screenwriters held significantly more authority. Before a TV drama was even greenlit, the audience cared more about the screenwriting team than the cast.

Excellent screenwriters not only earned salaries comparable to those of actors but also participated in profit sharing and even had the right of priority to select the cast.

Driven by these massive benefits, hordes of young people threw themselves into the industry. Admission scores for screenwriting majors were distinctively higher than other departments in the same universities, and the media frequently touted exaggerated stories of “rookie screenwriters becoming overnight sensations.”

Everyone wanted to be famous overnight. Everyone wanted their name linked to a smash hit.

The original host of this body was one such young man, entering the industry with a dream.

However, compared to Lin Ji’s successful career, the original host’s path had been paved with potholes.

Although he was a professionally trained graduate, the original host had bounced between various crews, working as an assistant for four full years. It was only through the recommendation of a senior alumnus, his Shixiong, that he landed his first credited work: Snow in Early May.

Lin Ji frowned the moment he saw the title. He had always believed titles should be straightforward, ideally summarising a part of the plot. He hated pretentious fluff. Snow in May? Where does it snow in May? Normal people would just be confused.

If it were up to Lin Ji, he would have passed on such an illogical title immediately.

Yet, Snow in Early May was a key project for Qinglan TV this year. The station had not only hired the hottest young actors and actresses at a high price but also assembled a massive screenwriting team, intending to go head-to-head with their rival, Dajiang TV, during the summer slot.

The production cost alone ran into the hundreds of millions.

Lin Ji clicked his tongue as he reviewed the memories. He had been a screenwriter for years, but he’d only worked on one or two projects with a budget exceeding that of Snow in Early May.

From the lineup alone, one could see the high hopes Qinglan TV had placed on this drama.

Qinglan TV had indeed spent a fortune, but Snow in Early May had smashed right through the station’s floor. It didn’t just flop; it flopped with thunderous momentum. Forget competing with Dajiang TV, Snow in Early May didn’t even reach the lowest baseline of Qinglan TV’s historical ratings.

The station’s previous all-time low was 0.302. Snow in Early May, aside from the first few episodes, maintained a viewership of under 0.2.

For Qinglan TV, this was a first since its founding. The entire station was dumbfounded.

It wasn’t just the poor ratings; the station’s stock price took a dive because of it. The rival platform immediately nicknamed the show Blood in Early May.

And according to the standard tropes of webnovels, the screenwriter of Snow in Early May was, naturally, the original host Lin Ji had transmigrated into.

…

As Lin Ji recalled the original host’s experience, the more he thought about it, the more unjust it felt.

Snow in Early May was clearly a heavyweight project pushed by the station. What did it have to do with a third-rate writer like the original host? Even if the show crashed into the earth’s core, Lin Ji shouldn’t be the one taking the fall.

Although Lin Ji was part of the writing team, he had only written one or two episodes. He wasn’t even qualified to handle the overall coordination, that was the job of his Senior Brother, Xiao Cheng, who held much more weight and was listed first in the credits.

But now, the pot was firmly strapped to Lin Ji’s back.

After the ratings came out, whether it was interviews with the creative team or press releases from marketing accounts, everyone painted Lin Ji as the primary sinner behind the failure of Snow in Early May.

Overnight, he went from a tier-three or four nobody to the “lead writer” of a massive production, at least in terms of blame.

It wasn’t that the original host hadn’t thought of explaining, but the moment he went online, his private messages and comments were flooded with abuse.

He was a classic introvert, clumsy with words to begin with. When Xiao Cheng and a few other writers threatened him, he didn’t dare to utter a word of defence.

The industry insiders likely knew the truth, but the audience needed an explanation, and Qinglan TV needed a sacrifice. Xiao Cheng and the other writers were established figures with reputations and connections far superior to the original host. Lin Ji taking the fall was simply a tacit agreement between all parties.

Xiao Cheng was safe, but Lin Ji was miserable beyond belief. He wanted to go back to being an assistant, but no crew would take him. When he went to the TV station to recommend himself, he was swept out the door the moment he gave his name.

The entertainment circle was superstitious. A flop was common, but a flop as earth-shattering as Snow in Early May was rare. Since Lin Ji’s first credited show was this unlucky, no one wanted him, not even as a mascot.

Lin Ji sighed silently.

His own career had never encountered such messy drama. His only complaint used to be compromising with investors. As a screenwriter, he knew the script best, but the actors chosen by the production rarely matched the plot he wrote perfectly.

Regardless, now that he was in this body, he at least didn’t have to worry about changing careers. He could just keep being a screenwriter.

Even though the situation was unfavourable, after getting a rough idea of the hit shows in this world, Lin Ji was firm in his resolve to restart his career.

Here, television stations hadn’t yet been crushed by the internet’s impact. Although web series were developing, high-quality dramas still came from TV stations. The survival space for web series wasn’t vast. Moreover, the audience had deeply rooted viewing habits; the hit dramas of each station were still the centre of conversation after dinner.

For a screenwriter, this was the best of times.

…

“Sorry, we don’t need new people here.”

“Teacher Lin, is it? Sorry, our quota is full.”

“Our small crew really doesn’t deserve your talent.”

Lin Ji had started with full confidence, but after receiving dozens of rejection letters, he finally realised the situation was worse than he had imagined.

Snow in Early May was practically the “Purple Star” of the drama world this year, a disastrous omen. Forget Lin Ji, the scapegoat; even the lead actors were covered in dirt because of this show. When it first aired, the male and female leads were fighting over billing order. Once the ratings came out, both tacitly reduced their promotional frequency.

Even when forced to promote by Qinglan TV, their posts displayed exemplary humility, friendly enough to put the other person’s name first, hoping the other would take the burden of “carrying the show.”

Lin Ji’s social media was full of curses from the stars’ fans. They even fabricated a narrative that Lin Ji was a spy from a rival station, lurking in the crew just to sabotage their idols.

Lin Ji: “…”

He had seriously studied Snow in Early May a few days ago. The director was a veteran, and the writers weren’t rookies. The reason it flopped so miserably could be summarised in eight words: Everyone wrote their own thing; everyone acted their own thing.

Qinglan TV was famous for idol dramas but had a worse reputation than its rival, Dajiang TV. Unconvinced, Qinglan decided to create Snow in Early May as a so-called “Serious Drama.”

If you want to film a serious drama, then film a serious drama. But Qinglan TV couldn’t bear to part with their existing demographic, so they specifically hired two top-tier traffic stars to lead.

Since young actors were involved, they felt compelled to hype up a CP (couple pairing) and add romance. The serious drama space had to be squeezed to make room for love scenes.

The two leads came from an idol drama background and couldn’t quite keep up with the other actors. Added to that was the excessive number of screenwriters producing fragmented content with poor transitions. The whole show appeared messy and uncoordinated, a bit filmed here, a bit filmed there, with chaotic pacing. It turned a potentially good show into a “Four-Unlike”, a chimaera.

From Lin Ji’s perspective, Xiao Cheng bore the greater responsibility. As the head writer, his job was coordination; he needed to bridge the content written by each writer so the overall style remained harmonious.

However, Xiao Cheng had long since extricated himself from the mess. Although the failure affected him, he used to get key projects from major stations, but now only participated in ordinary dramas; he was still working.

The fact that he had work had nothing to do with Lin Ji. They had cut ties long ago. Lin Ji had been in the industry for years; he knew plenty of peers with worse morals than Xiao Cheng.

But one morning, Lin Ji turned on the TV only to see Xiao Cheng on the screen, weeping bitterly:

“…It was I who brought my junior brother into the crew, causing irreparable losses…”

“As his senior, I didn’t guide him well. I didn’t stop his stubborn ideas in time.”

The image of Xiao Cheng with red-rimmed eyes climbed the trending search list at maximum speed. The comment section was full of: “Teacher Xiao, don’t cry, it’s not your fault,” and “The one who should apologise isn’t apologising, what did Teacher Xiao do to deserve this?”

Among young screenwriters, Xiao Cheng was already considered good-looking. His face fans and drama fans were almost equal in number. Now that he was crying, the fans were heartbroken.

And on this day, Lin Ji read every swear word he had ever encountered across two lifetimes in his private messages.

Lin Ji: “…”

Hey, who exactly did I offend?

NOTES

Snow in Early May / Blood in Early May: A pun. The title “Snow in Early May” (Wǔyuè Chūxuě) sounds very similar to “May Haemorrhage” or “Bleeding in May” (Wǔyuè Chūxiě). The latter implies a financial disaster/bloodbath for the investors.

Purple Star: Historically refers to the Emperor Star in astrology. In modern slang, “The Purple Star descending from heaven” usually refers to a sudden, unstoppable superstar. Here, it is used sarcastically to mean a disaster of epic proportions.

CP: “Coupling” or “Character Pairing.” A very common term in Chinese fandom for romantic pairings, real or fictional.

Four-Unlike: A mythical beast (and the nickname for Pere David’s Deer) that looks like a mix of four different animals but is none of them. Used metaphorically to describe something that is a hodgepodge or neither fish nor fowl.

Translator’s Note: Poor Lin Ji. Nothing hits harder than waking up to find you’re the industry’s public enemy #1. 

Enjoy, and drop feedback.