Although the person he was privately messaging was a new account and hadn’t been answering questions on the forum for long, in Tian Yao’s eyes, this person was akin to the “Sweeping Monk” of the screenwriting world, a hidden master who could casually toss out a completely refreshing perspective.

After sending the message, the other party’s avatar didn’t light up. Tian Yao’s heart sank, suspecting the other party wasn’t interested in taking on his small order.

A famous screenwriter’s time was precious. Although the forum was full of peers who occasionally helped each other out, Tian Yao wasn’t confident whether this person would be willing.

He was truly out of options, which was why he came to the screenwriting forum to try his luck.

Tian Yao was a producer who had transitioned from screenwriting. During his screenwriting career, he hadn’t achieved much. After realising he lacked talent, he used his existing resources to pivot into producing. His first drama barely broke even, allowing him to gain a foothold in the film and television industry.

But his second drama had been plagued by problems since pre-production began.

The crew had hired a somewhat famous screenwriter as the head writer, but the scripts produced never met expectations. Helplessly, the crew had to pay a sum of money to send this “Great God” away.

However, the remaining screenwriters were all novices. Their writing was fragmented and scattered. Tian Yao didn’t even dare to imagine what the final TV series would look like. He wanted to hire another screenwriter, but after waiting for half a month, no one was willing to take over.

If the script wasn’t sorted out, the actors couldn’t join the group to film. But he had done all the preparatory work he could, and the investment was already sitting there; Tian Yao couldn’t just say “don’t film” and stop.

He somehow wandered into the screenwriting forum, scrolled through a few posts, and found that the replies that best suited his taste all came from a screenwriter with the avatar and nickname “Big Rooster.”

Tian Yao hadn’t written a script himself for a long time, but he still knew quality when he saw it. He could see the gold content in the other party’s answers.

“Who could it be? Zhao Jing, Wang Benli, Meng Pingping…”

After thinking for a long time, Tian Yao still couldn’t guess the other party’s identity.

He also felt that this “Big Rooster” wasn’t a long-established screenwriter. Zhao Jing and Wang Benli had so many projects on hand that they were too busy to handle them all, often handing them off to their disciples and grand-disciples. They wouldn’t run to a forum to chat and flood the boards.

“Probably a theoretical school type, with no combat experience,” the director said from the side.

“Big Rooster” still hadn’t replied to him. Tian Yao guessed this was the case too, and he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. “In this day and age, where can I find an experienced screenwriter?”

Tian Yao’s project was a collaboration with Qike Video. Screenwriters from the TV station faction naturally weren’t willing to join. Even the original unqualified screenwriter had been invited by Tian Yao using his personal connections.

Tian Yao flipped through the existing scripts in his hand. He had made up his mind: if worse came to worst, he would try to take over himself. No matter how the filmed content turned out, he alone would bear the responsibility.

Tian Yao had only read two pages when his phone suddenly rang. The “Big Rooster” avatar, which hadn’t lit up since last night, suddenly flashed twice.

Big Rooster: “Send it to me first, let me take a look.”

Tian Yao privately messaged the first few pages of the script.

The screenwriting forum required real-name registration. As long as contact was made through the forum channels, the forum could guarantee the confidentiality of the script. Therefore, Tian Yao wasn’t worried that “Big Rooster” would leak the content.

“Can you take it?” After a while, Tian Yao sent another message.

“Big Rooster” didn’t reply immediately. Tian Yao was torn, worried both that the other party couldn’t take it and that “Big Rooster’s” reorganisation wouldn’t meet requirements.

…

After waking up, Lin Ji first completed his daily task of tagging Xiao Cheng. He posted once a day; he didn’t even need to urge anyone himself, as netizens were already helping him ask Xiao Cheng for answers.

He was still looking for recruitment similar to Rice Grains Video, but found nothing.

In this life, the status of TV stations was deeply rooted. Websites like Chaoxing TV and Qike Video had investments from TV stations, so naturally, they wouldn’t go against them.

He had originally disdained Rice Grains Video for only accepting short drama scripts, but among the video sites, Rice Grains Video was already the type that dared to dream and fight.

Lin Ji could only go back to the screenwriting forum to kill time.

For half a month, he had been leaving comments and replies on various posts. Some replies got a lot of likes, but many people also argued under his comments. Lin Ji picked a few to reply to, and just as he was about to refresh for new posts, he realised someone had sent him a private message.

He was idle anyway, so he might as well help the other party sort out the script.

Although the original host’s family background was average, he had saved some money in the years after graduation, enough for Lin Ji to live stably for a while. Lin Ji didn’t have high material desires; his biggest interest was analysing dramas and scripts. He would repeatedly watch content other screenwriters looked down on, and ponder over plots other screenwriters considered vulgar.

Screenwriting wasn’t about highbrow art; if a work was liked by the audience, it must have its merits.

After receiving the script, Lin Ji took pen and paper and started pondering in front of the computer.

After reading the first few pages, Lin Ji had a rough idea. The other party had sent a script for a “Sweet Pet” drama (fluffy romance). The main selling point of this genre was sweetness; the pacing should be brisk and smooth. Ideally, a single scene change should make the audience’s hearts bubble with joy, screaming over the interactions between the male and female leads.

But the script in front of him lacked a clear hierarchy of primary and secondary elements.

It was clearly supposed to be about the interaction between the male and female leads, but it kept drifting off to other characters. The background of a sweet drama could be simple, but the writer insisted on making the male lead a domineering CEO and the female lead the daughter of a rival company. Amidst the sweetness, they mixed in business wars and family feuds, yet still insisted on dragging the two together for sweet moments.

Lin Ji felt tired just reading it for the leads; one person was working several jobs.

He wrote quickly, slashing large chunks of content, then filling them back in bit by bit.

Generally speaking, in a movie, one page of script equals one minute of screen time. TV dramas weren’t as strict as movies, but nonsense was still unnecessary. Sweet dramas were often considered shallow by the industry, but that was precisely their advantage.

The more Lin Ji wrote, the more absorbed he became, immersing himself entirely in creation.

In his mind, the plot of this sweet drama wasn’t flat text floating on the surface, but a three-dimensional scene happening right now.

He was both the audience and the creator. Under his pen, an independent world was slowly being constructed.

Once Lin Ji started writing, he forgot the time. After finishing the rewrite of these few pages, he immediately sent them to Tian Yao. He expected the other party would reply later, but the moment the script was sent, the other party accepted it immediately.

Lin Ji blinked. Just as he was about to go offline, the private message lit up again.

“Great God!!!!!!!”

“You are my God!!!!”

“I leave the rest of the script to you [Butt Wiggle]!! Great God, if you have time, let’s meet first and sign the contract. Then, I’ll trouble you to follow the group for filming!”

“God!!!!”

Tian Yao simply wanted to send all his praises to “Big Rooster”!

Before receiving “Big Rooster’s” reply, Tian Yao had a lot of uncertainty in his heart. He thought carefully: perhaps the reason the previous screenwriter failed was that sweet dramas weren’t their forte.

Perhaps it was more suitable to find a young screenwriter for a sweet drama.

He actually didn’t expect “Big Rooster” to give him such an outstanding finished product. After all, he himself wasn’t a particularly outstanding producer. But after seeing the script reorganised by the other party, Tian Yao wanted to kneel.

The other party even supplemented the storyboards perfectly!

Although he used the segments of interaction between the male and female leads from the original script, under “Big Rooster’s” pen, Tian Yao could smell the sweetness just from the descriptive text. He couldn’t help but imagine the scene of the actors performing this shot…

Sweet, but a sweetness distinct from the current popular dramas.

The primary and secondary elements in the script were clear. Both protagonists and supporting characters had their shining points, but the brilliance of the supporting characters didn’t overshadow the leads; instead, they added a bit of flavour while the audience enjoyed the sweetness.

Tian Yao silently opened his computer and deleted all the documents he had written himself.

A Great God is indeed a Great God. The question is, who exactly is this Great God? To have this level of skill yet stay in the forum answering questions, and even have time to entertain his private chat?

…

Lin Ji replied to Tian Yao’s private message and agreed on a time and place. With his current notoriety, Lin Ji wasn’t sure if the other party would change their mind after meeting.

However, he was no longer the Gold Medal Screenwriter of the past. As long as there was an opportunity, he would strive for it with all his might.

After a busy day, Lin Ji didn’t feel tired at all. On the contrary, having not written for a while, when he went back to modifying the script, he only felt the excitement of a challenge.

He finally regained the feeling of being a screenwriter.

In his previous life, Lin Ji was accustomed to spending all day on set, tracking progress, making suggestions, and changing storyboards. Suddenly being idle, even though the original host was also a screenwriter, still gave him a sense of confusion about where he belonged.

Only a script could settle him down.

Lin Ji watched TV for a while and was about to go to sleep when WeChat suddenly chimed.

The message was from Lin Ji’s teacher at the National Film Academy.

When WeChat chimed a second time, Lin Ji checked; this time, it was a classmate he had a decent relationship with.

“Xiao Lin, forgive others when possible. Xiao Xiao took good care of you before, right? Why keep grabbing onto him and not letting go?”

“Lin Ji, think about us classmates, too. Everyone manages to scrape a living under Senior Brother Xiao. If you block this road, what will the others do?”

For Lin Ji, tagging Xiao Cheng every day had become entertainment. But Xiao Cheng still hadn’t responded. Xiao Cheng was also superstitious enough. Back at the National Film Academy, he wasn’t the type of student that teachers valued highly, nor were his grades top-tier. But after entering the industry, he was the one who became the most famous.

The top student in their class was still writing obscure web dramas. Xiao Cheng always felt that his fame relied on luck. Otherwise, with so many people in the class, why was he the only one who made it big?

He could frame Lin Ji, but he dared not lie before gods and buddhas.

Asking the teacher and another junior brother to step in was naturally Xiao Cheng’s idea. He had a big business now; promoting a few junior brothers and sisters was no problem. But with Lin Ji tagging him like this every day, he always felt the other crew members were looking at him strangely.

The Snow in Early May crew kept their mouths shut for now, but over time, it was hard to guarantee someone wouldn’t speak the truth.

Xiao Cheng waited for the teacher’s and junior brother’s reply. The reply came indeed…

Lin Ji said, “Follow me from now on.”

Xiao Cheng: “…?”

NOTES

Sweeping Monk: A reference to a character in Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils (Jin Yong). An unassuming monk who sweeps the floor but possesses supreme martial arts skills, far surpassing the supposed masters.

Sweet Pet: A genre of romance drama focused on fluffy, low-stakes, high-sugar interactions where the male lead dotes on the female lead.

Follow me from now on: A very gangster/boss phrase meaning “I’ll be your boss/patron.” Lin Ji is arrogantly poaching Xiao Cheng’s lackeys.