Chapter 20 - 20 Investing in Television Dramas
Chapter 20: Chapter 20 Investing in Television Dramas
Capital City, Hengdian.
Zhao Liying had her hair styled in a maid’s up-do, moving from an unknown small crew to a large, well-financed production.
Although she was still playing the role of a maid, it was certainly a kind of progress.
She had contacted Chen Pingsheng today mainly because there was a scene that needed his expertise.
Whenever she had free time these past months, she would also go to Tengsheng Fruits to help out.
Chen Pingsheng’s rapid progress in just a few months had been a pleasure for her to witness.
But such achievements didn’t amount to much in the vast entertainment industry.
Many people are nobodies today and become superstars under the public eye tomorrow.
She didn’t envy them, but occasionally she allowed herself to dream a little.
When Chen Pingsheng arrived, Zhao Liying had even prepared a bottle of red tea for him in advance.
This time he was there for a high-difficulty jump from a building scene, directed by the same assistant director who had given him a business card before.
Since the fruit store started making money, Chen Pingsheng no longer took on extra acting work.
This time it was more of a favor.
The fresh-faced male lead didn’t even dare to jump from the five-meter-high wall, trembling even just standing on it.
Chen Pingsheng was fearless, after all, everything had been properly padded below.
After makeup, he jumped without hesitation, not stopping even after two or three tries.
He wasn’t injured, just a bit tired.
Only after he finished shooting did Zhao Liying come over to wipe off his sweat.
“Chen, thank you.”
“Thank me for what? You’ve been helping me out quite often too.”
After pausing, Chen Pingsheng asked her, “Liying, always playing a maid isn’t really satisfying, is it? Don’t you ever get the chance to play a lead role?”
Zhao Liying’s face soured slightly, as she too yearned to be in the lead.
But the investment for a TV drama would be at least tens of millions.
Aside from being suitable for the role itself, the most important thing was to have someone’s support.
Without a patron, she had been a background extra for five years.
“Chen, if I can never land a lead role, I might as well join you in selling fruits in the future.”
“Don’t joke around. You’ve persisted for so many years. You can’t just give up like that.”
Thinking it over, Chen Pingsheng curiously asked, “Speaking of which, I don’t quite understand the earnings rules in your entertainment world. Is investing in TV dramas really profitable?”
“Of course, it’s profitable.”
Zhao Liying laughed out, as if thinking of something amusing. She said with self-mockery:
“It’s not just profitable, you can also be arm in arm with the director and producer and say, ‘Focus on shooting, she’s going to be the lead.'”
With money, you’re the boss. Her joke about being arm in arm lacked only pointing out exactly who would play the leading ladies.
Chen Pingsheng understood her meaning and then thought of his niece, Song Wu, who was about to graduate.
Would she also try to climb the ladder using such means?
Leaving little cards or room numbers for the director in private.
When such unsavory practices became commonplace, staying clean turned into a joke.
Chen Pingsheng suddenly didn’t know how to respond to such a hardworking girl.
Continuing as an extra for more than five years showed her disdain for those dirty tricks.
Yet he considered that if he could produce a superstar in the entertainment industry,
it would greatly benefit his future career.
But would such good fortune ever come his way?
He shook his head, pushing the thought aside until lunchtime.
Zhao Liying specially invited that assistant director to join them for a meal. Like her, he was someone who hadn’t found success in the entertainment industry.
Having been an assistant director for ten years, he had never actually become a head director.
This was closely related to the fact that no one invested in him, even though Zhao Liying admired his abilities.
He completed most of the scenes as an assistant director.
But without investors and good opportunities, he had failed to take that critical step forward.
“Little Chen, I hear you’re doing well with your fruit shop, that’s great.”
“Just so-so, barely enough to support the family.”
“Being able to support the family is already quite good. To be honest, I recently got a very good script, but I’ve always lacked the initial funds to get it off the ground.”
The assistant director, Yang Jiancheng, was in his forties.
He said this, admittedly, with a bit of hope for raising funds.
“What kind of script is it, Director Yang? Can you tell me a bit about it?”
“A light-hearted ancient romance comedy.”
Yang Jiancheng briefly introduced the script, which had quite the pedigree—it wasn’t his own original creation.
Instead, it was a wildly popular novel he found on a women’s fiction website.
The plot wasn’t particularly novel, but it was incredibly entertaining.
It told the story of a bride who mistakenly marries the right man after getting into the wrong wedding palanquin.
“This kind of costume love comedy requires minimal investment, and is perfect for making a big play with little spending. A small investment that makes it to satellite broadcast and catches fire would yield enormous returns,” he said.
Chen Pingsheng listened with great interest, but still wanted a few days to think about it.
For one, he didn’t know Yang Jiancheng very well yet, and secondly, he wanted to read the novel himself before deciding.
Yang Jiancheng hadn’t held much hope for Chen Pingsheng to begin with, so naturally, there was no disappointment to speak of.
Their conversation was purely casual.
Upon returning home, Chen Pingsheng had Song Yanxi take a look at the novel he recommended.
It left her utterly baffled.
What kind of husband doesn’t allow his wife to work properly but drags her home to read novels instead?
It was just bizarre.
However, it wasn’t long before Song Yanxi was engrossed in the novel, not even needing any prompting to do so.
After recommending it to Du Juan and the others and finding out they all liked it, Chen Pingsheng felt sure this novel was a good fit for a TV adaptation.
In his opinion, the core of a TV drama was still the script.
With a good script and without any outrageous modifications, even without any big stars, the show could achieve a quality of eight or nine out of ten.
On the other hand, even with numerous big stars, a poorly written script would still result in a flop that viewers would criticize.
He felt that the TV drama market had been grotesquely deformed over the years.
The market was flooded with “traffic” stars, and regardless of your personal taste, capital could forcefully feed you crap.
Take for example the current top-tier celebrities, all of whom returned from being trainees abroad.
After entering the drama industry…
Boyish idols play the roles of tough boxers?
All kinds of effeminate CEOs.
As for what the directors were thinking, he had no idea, but he knew he cringed so hard watching them that his toes curled up enough to scrape out a three-room flat.
The kind that dirties your eyes.
And that’s not even the full extent of it; there are all sorts of ridiculous cases that treat the audience like idiots.
Only after he was sure it was a good script did he proactively contact Yang Jiancheng to talk about investing.
By his calculations, shooting this drama without any big stars shouldn’t cost more than ten million yuan.
Yang Jiancheng was even planning to sell his house to raise money, which was a key reason for Chen Pingsheng’s decision to invest.
Think about it—if he himself isn’t willing to spend money on a project he wants to film, who would believe in him?
Yang Jiancheng hadn’t expected him to really invest; their meeting was quite hasty.
However, he said, “I can gather about five million yuan by myself. If we’re looking at the investment for the filming period, it’s expected to take three to four months. If all goes well, it could be broadcast on satellite before the end of the year. We’re still short about five million yuan for the budget gap.”
The timeline was indeed fast. Chen Pingsheng was willing to invest, but he had his own demands.
“I’m willing to invest, but the female lead must be Zhao Liying and only her. That’s my sole condition for investing,” he said.
Although he knew it was a long shot, Chen Pingsheng still wanted to give it a try.
If he managed to invest in creating a major star, even if she didn’t reach A-list status, he would have made a huge profit.
“Deal,” Yang Jiancheng agreed without hesitation, mainly because he really thought that Zhao Liying was quite suitable.
And crucially, she wasn’t just an average hard worker.
With such a small investment, not even a C-lister would be willing to come, let alone an A-lister.
Zhao Liying, beautiful and hardworking, was an obscure actress who fit perfectly.
Chen Pingsheng put up the money without getting involved in the production. According to industry rules, investing half would only entitle him to a 40% stake.
The other 60% was all Yang Jiancheng’s.
Yang couldn’t come up with five million yuan all at once and only managed to pay an initial two million.
The remaining three million would be paid when filming was halfway done.
This was more manageable for him.
Regardless,
For a small investment, breaking even was relatively simple, and he approached it with a mindset of giving it a try.
What if it ended up being a success?
Return on investment was one thing but making a big star was another.
When he got home and told his wife, Song Yanxi, about it, she had never imagined that aside from running a fruit store, her husband had also stepped into the entertainment industry.