Translator: Ink Hub
Editor: Yoog

“His breakdown couldn’t be more obvious.”

“I’m actually starting to pity Little Lin. Isn’t this just a bunch of low-class people ganging up to bully him?”

“They’re all in the same class, but the gap in talent is truly too massive. It really makes one question the National Film Academy’s selection standards. But then again, the Academy used to promote people like Xiao Cheng. As for Little Lin? They never even spared him a glance.”

“I’m dying of laughter. The comments are one thing, but someone actually changed their nickname to ‘Lin Ji’s Dog’!”

Lou Yangyang had become completely infamous this time. With the hype for The Harem still peaking, Lin Ji’s reputation was at an all-time high. Netizens had even gone so far as to clip scenes from Lin Ji’s and Lou Yangyang’s works for side-by-side comparisons. The result was stark: Lou Yangyang’s work was simply unwatchable.

“As a fellow graduate of the National Film Academy, I’ll let you in on a secret. During our school days, Lou Yangyang was the kind of student who could get a scholarship. As for Lin Ji… well, everyone knows the story.”

“You guys won’t believe it, but Lou Yangyang has way more awards listed on his Baidu encyclopedia entry than Lin Ji. I’m freaking dying.”

“This guy’s lifestyle is ten thousand times more luxurious than Little Lin’s. Whenever he attends an event, the organizers introduce him as a ‘famous screenwriter.’ I just want to ask, exactly what is he famous for?”

Lou Yangyang was furious to the extreme, yet he no longer dared to mock Lin Ji as recklessly as he had right after graduation.

To make matters worse, the newly appointed head of his work unit posted directly in their group chat: “Lin Ji spent 100 million to film 80 episodes. That averages out to 1.25 million per episode, and he used big stars and a professional team. Our unit spent 5 million on a single film, and after it was posted online, it put us in a passive position. Little Lou, what do you think?”

In his class group chat, people were also hounding Lou Yangyang, asking why he had leaked their chat records to marketing accounts.

“They say we’re jealous of Lin Ji, but I think the one most jealous of him is you, Lou Yangyang.”

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to work in C City anymore, but you should think about the others, shouldn’t you? Don’t you think you’ve gone too far?”

“Just kick him. Saying another word to him is a waste of time.”

Lou Yangyang watched helplessly as he was kicked out of the group chat. In the past, that was a treatment reserved only for Lin Ji.

Furthermore, more and more dirt about him was surfacing online, mostly regarding production costs. Lou Yangyang knew that the content he filmed didn’t match the budget. In the past, such things could be easily glossed over, but now, even if he were willing to let it go, the netizens wouldn’t be so kind.

That was the most troublesome part.

* * *

Lou Yangyang’s plight had nothing to do with Lin Ji. After the finale of The Harem, Lin Ji was faced with an endless stream of celebratory feasts. Some he didn’t want to attend, but Hua Tai dragged him along anyway.

Although the celebrations were centered around Qinglan TV, Lin Ji would occasionally run into executives from other platforms. Even if he hid in a corner, someone would find him, and the topic was always the same: What do you plan to write for your next script?

To some extent, Lin Ji had become the most sought-after commodity in the screenwriting circle.

Lin Ji considered writing a short drama script for Rice Grains Video first. After several years, God of War Returns Home had finally reached its grand finale.

God of War Returns Home was a weekly series, airing two episodes a week. Although the total number of episodes didn’t exceed a thousand, it had created a legend in the world of short dramas.

Following God of War Returns Home, short dramas on various platforms saw explosive growth. Titles like The Dragon King Returns, The Overbearing God of War, and Invincible Martial Emperor flooded the market. Yet the viewership for God of War Returns Home remained far in the lead, even triggering the rise of the “invincible flow” genre in webnovels.

The profits God of War Returns Home brought to Rice Grains Video were staggering, making it a textbook example of low investment and high returns. While it didn’t earn back ten times its cost in one go like The Harem, it was a steady stream of income. In the words of industry peers, God of War Returns Home was the life-sustaining artifact for Rice Grains Video.

Rice Grains Video had been in constant contact with Lin Ji. In fact, although he had transitioned to writing for satellite stations, he had never broken contact with them. As soon as God of War Returns Home finished airing, Rice Grains Video began urging him to start another short drama.

After writing three long-form scripts in a row, Lin Ji was indeed feeling tired.

Although the pacing of short dramas like God of War Returns Home and The Heiress was fast, they allowed a screenwriter to let their imagination run wild. Lin Ji didn’t feel restricted when writing them.

By comparison, long-form dramas had more constraints.

The Harem had brought Lin Ji a massive income. Qinglan TV’s initial offer was already at the top of the industry, and with the bonuses from the legendary television viewership milestone, industry insiders speculated that Lin Ji had been a permanent fixture in the top ten of the screenwriter income list since he became famous. This drama, The Harem, would likely propel him to number one.

“I’m perfectly fine with Little Lin earning more. Don’t forget that Xiao Cheng was on the income list before. If he can make money, why shouldn’t Little Lin?”

“It’s a pity I’m broke. If I had the money, I’d have Little Lin customize a drama for me. A suspenseful one, the scarier the better. There are no good suspense dramas to watch nowadays! I hate it!!”

“@Lin Ji, Screenwriter Lin, won’t you consider it?”

In reality, Lin Ji had many genres he wanted to write. He just needed to take them one by one.

* * *

It had been nearly a month since the finale of The Harem, yet the hot searches were still filled with analyses of the show. There were some themes Lin Ji hadn’t even intended to go that deep into, but fans had managed to analyze them anyway.

For a screenwriter, there was no doubt that having one’s work loved by the audience was a form of happiness.

Lin Ji would occasionally reply to a few comments, but he didn’t surface often. Most of the time, he stayed home as a shut-in or went out to find creative materials.

The reason Lin Ji had chosen the screenwriting profession in the first place was that it offered more freedom than other industries.

However, even while he chose to stay home recently, phone calls kept coming in one after another. It didn’t matter if Lin Ji’s next script was a short drama, but his next major project absolutely had to consider their station, be it Qinglan, Xingzhou, or any other.

“Has Dajiang TV finally lowered its noble head?”

“What else can they do? A 9.67% rating!”

A netizen, bored and scrolling through Lin Ji’s Weibo, noticed that he had edited an old post. It was the one where he had dissed Maple Leaf TV and Gu Lenian. He had changed the “4.8% rating” to “9.67% rating.”

“Records of the Bai’s Return: It turns out my feelings were misplaced.”

“I’m dying. The Little Lin in our imagination: diligently creating and revising scripts. The real Little Lin: secretly changing his old ‘4.8%’ to ‘9.67%.’”

“Maple Leaf TV, Qin Yi, and Gu Lenian are all choosing to commit suicide together.”

“Little Lin is a certified troll. He didn’t brag while The Harem was airing, and he didn’t say a word when the ratings broke the record. The kid just silently sneaks in to change his data, ROFL.”

“Brag out loud! No one will laugh at you!! Go for it, Little Lin!!!”

“Thinking about it makes one sigh. Back then, Lin Ji had to personally go and beg Qin Yi to accept Code 11. Now, forget about Lin Ji visiting in person; if he just says the word, that whole circle of mature actors would probably break their heads trying to squeeze in. Qin Yi was brain-dead to sign with Future Entertainment. Now both sides are fighting a lawsuit to terminate the contract. Who knows how long that bickering will last.”

Regarding his act of changing the numbers, Lin Ji stated that he didn’t consider it “secretly” changing them. He was simply respecting objective facts.

He had evolved from a “4.8% Little Lin” to a “9.67% Little Lin.” Everyone had to recognize this!

“Got it. You’ve doubled. From now on, you’re not Lin Ji, you’re Lin Ji-Ji.”

Lin Ji: “…”

His friends might have some issues.

Whenever Lin Ji was free, Tian Yao would invite him out for a stroll. Wen Qing was away filming in another province, and Tian Yao had just finished a project. Being idle, he wanted to call his acquaintances out to hang out.

The two of them talked about the invitation to the Classic Awards.

The last Classic Awards had played Lin Ji for a fool. Even though Code 11 had outperformed its competitors in every aspect, Lin Ji had still failed to win Best Screenwriter.

He was nominated again this year. It was the common consensus that Records of the Bai’s Return should win. The Classic Awards had sent Lin Ji an invitation, but he had tossed it into the trash.

“As long as you’re willing to go this time, the organizers will definitely give it to you,” Tian Yao said.

The preparation and assembly of the Records of the Bai’s Return crew had been assisted by the Publicity Department.

“I’m not going.” Lin Ji smiled slightly. “Whether a screenwriter is recognized or not doesn’t depend on these so-called awards.”

Lin Ji could understand the arrogance of the Classic Awards, but he could not accept it.

Previously, Lin Ji had called out those so-called expert judges. There were many voices in the industry criticizing him, saying he didn’t respect a prestigious award with a long history. They criticized his work for lacking depth and labeled him as arrogant and self-satisfied.

Meanwhile, the Classic Awards’ act of withholding the prize was described as “tempering a young screenwriter” and “not forcing growth.”

The reason the Classic Awards gave at the time was that Lin Ji had not attended the ceremony. Many drama fans had accepted this result.

But for this year’s ceremony, Lin Ji had already announced early on that he would not be attending.

“It would be too much if the Classic Awards don’t give it to him this time. Between Records of the Bai’s Return and The Harem, Lin Ji has both critical acclaim and viewership. Which competitor can stand against him?”

“If they don’t give it to Lin Ji, who else can they give it to? While the scripts of the other nominees are decent, they’re still a bit lacking compared to Records of the Bai’s Return.”

The screenwriters shortlisted for this year’s Classic Awards included Wei Shian for Shooting the Sirius, Xia Ming for Winter Promise, and Fu Jiu for Stormy Romance. These works had aired during the same period as Records of the Bai’s Return.

In the eyes of the audience, Records of the Bai’s Return was superior in both ratings and quality.

“Little Lin is a guaranteed winner!!”

In the eyes of fans like Nie Ou, even if Lin Ji didn’t attend the ceremony, the award should still be given to him.

It had already been a huge upset when Lin Ji failed to win Best Screenwriter for Code 11. While the Classic Awards were old-fashioned, they were generally considered fair and just.

Nie Ou and her friends watched the live broadcast of the Classic Awards. When Wei Shian held up the trophy for Best Screenwriter, the friends in the group chat couldn’t help but complain, “How is there no share for Little Lin again?”

“This targeting is too obvious, isn’t it? I want to see what excuse the Classic Awards will cook up this year!”

“!!! Code 11 wasn’t worthy, and now Records of the Bai’s Return isn’t worthy either? Can you be a little fair? If you don’t want to give it, then don’t. No one will say anything if you’re just thick-skinned about it. Don’t act all hypocritical by giving a nomination every time just to use Little Lin as someone’s stepping stone.”

In fact, the reason given by the Classic Awards this year was surprisingly consistent with the previous year: Lin Ji had not attended the awards ceremony.

“LOL. There are plenty of awards given out to people who didn’t attend, but when it comes to Little Lin, it’s suddenly impossible.”

“@Lin Ji, how about you show your face next year and see if the Classic Awards are willing to give it to you then.”

“They clearly just don’t want to give it. They’re too lazy to even make up a new reason. Who told Little Lin to offend so many of those old judges? The Classic Awards should first think about whether it’s living up to its name and its original intention of promoting classic works to the industry. Among the nominated works, which one is more classic than Records of the Bai’s Return?”

Netizens even began analyzing the micro-expressions of the guests that night. For instance, Wei Shian’s expression upon receiving the award was one of great shock, as he had never expected the award to be given to him. The other actors from the Records of the Bai’s Return crew were equally surprised.

“Who doesn’t know that this award should have gone to Little Lin?”

As for the several judges sitting high on the panel, the cameras easily caught them. When Wei Shian took the stage, the judges were all smiles, looking like everything was under their control. Their applause was even louder than when the other winners took the stage.

“So, this is what the word ‘arrogance’ looks like when personified.”

“Our little third-rate screenwriter with a rating breaking 10% is simply not worthy, that’s all.”

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