Thunderous applause erupted the mont Jiang Ci stood up, sweeping through the entire conference room.
The expressions of astonishnt on the faces of those venerable veteran actors had not yet fully faded when they were replaced by a far more complex emotion.
They joined in the applause.
This applause was not just for Zhao Yingfei, but for the sheer, unadulterated power of the performance itself.
Wei Song also stood up, clapping his hands with force.
He had seen it—the soul he had dreamt of, the one that could stand shoulder to shoulder with the Conqueror of Western Chu.
The producer from Evergreen Entertainnt, his expression shifting several tis, finally let out a helpless sigh and joined in the applause as well.
The applause gradually subsided.
An unusual quiet settled over the conference room.
Wei Song was just about to speak, to ask everyone to sit down and continue.
But Jiang Ci moved first.
He did not sit down. Instead, he turned directly towards the Head Screenwriter, Li Jun, who was seated beside the head of the table.
"Teacher Li."
His form of address was respectful, but the words that followed instantly tightened the atmosphere that had just begun to relax.
"Regarding the final chapter of the script, 'The Song of Gaixia,' I have a rather immature idea."
Head Screenwriter Li Jun's brow instantly furrowed into a deep knot.
He adjusted his reading glasses and spoke in a heavy tone.
"This script was the result of five years of painstaking effort and refinent by our team. Especially the ending. Every word, every deliberate blank space, has its purpose. Not a single word can be changed."
Five years of hard work.
How could it allow a greenhorn newcor to casually critique it here?
Even if he was the male lead, it was unacceptable!
Jiang Ci seed completely oblivious to the warning in his words. He rely nodded, his attitude sincere.
"I understand. I'm not trying to change the script. I want to 'complete' it."
"To complete Yu Ji's motivation."
He picked up the script on the table and flipped to the last page.
"The script says, Xiang Yu says, 'For , dance one last ti,' and then Yu Ji dances with her sword and takes her own life. It's a classic, but it also leaves a massive blank space."
"What was she dancing?"
Jiang Ci threw the question he had just asked Zhao Yingfei back at everyone present.
He didn't wait for an answer, but continued speaking on his own.
"I believe she wasn't dancing farewell, nor sorrowful longing, and certainly not a tragically beautiful performance."
"That was her, as the Conqueror's woman, performing her final charge for her king."
Jiang Ci's speech wasn't fast, but each word carried a strange, penetrating force.
"I've thought of a na for this dance."
"Po Zhen Wu."
"This is not a dance of mourning. It's a war dance."
"With her body, she recreated one after another of Xiang Yu's past victories for him, reenacting the desperation of Julu, the glory of Pengcheng. Using the most glorious posture to et the most tragic and heroic end."
Deathly silence filled the conference room.
Everyone was stunned by Jiang Ci's bold, almost insane idea.
"Nonsense!"
A furious roar shattered the quiet.
Head Screenwriter Li Jun slamd the table hard and shot to his feet.
He pointed a finger right at Jiang Ci's nose.
"This is utter rubbish! Yu Ji is a beauty, Xiang Yu's sole haven of tenderness! Now you want to turn her into a warrior? You're subverting the character! You're distorting history!"
Li Jun was genuinely enraged.
This was no longer just a matter of revising the script. This was challenging his bottom line and dignity as a creator.
Facing the Head Screenwriter's thunderous wrath, Jiang Ci remained calm.
He didn't even change his sitting posture.
Just then, a clear yet resolute female voice rang out.
"No."
Zhao Yingfei, who had been silent all along, spoke up.
Her voice wasn't loud, but it drew everyone's attention.
"I agree with Teacher Jiang Ci's view."
She looked directly at the furious Li Jun, not backing down an inch.
"Yu Ji's unyielding spirit wasn't only in the mont she took her own life. It was in every heartbeat of her life spent following the Conqueror."
"This dance is the battle hymn of her soul."
Zhao Yingfei's endorsent was like pouring oil on the fire.
The atmosphere in the entire conference room was completely ignited.
Li Jun was so angry his lips were trembling. "You... you... you're going to ruin this drama!"
Jiang Ci looked at him and finally began to explain.
He didn't talk about artistic theory. He didn't argue about history.
He used a kind of almost cold, scalpel-like logic.
"Teacher Li, please don't get agitated yet. Let's analyze the audience."
"A classic tragedy can earn the audience's tears and emotional resonance. But that kind of emotional resonance has an expiration date."
"The audience walks out of the cinema, discusses it for a couple of days at most, then gets swept up by the next hot topic. In the end, all that remains is a vague impression of 'it was good.'"
His words left everyone present dumbfounded.
What kind of approach was this?
Not discussing creation, but the market?
Jiang Ci continued, "However, extre contrast doesn't bring emotional resonance. It brings 'heartache.'"
"Using the most glorious war dance to et the most tragic death. Using the most unyielding soul to enact the most powerless outco. This extre sense of rupture will leave the audience with a breath stuck in their chests after watching, unable to exhale or swallow it down."
"They won't just be moved. They will feel an 'Unresolved Injustice.'"
"And this feeling of 'Unresolved Injustice' is the most lasting, the most virally potent. It becos a cultural symbol, sothing the audience cannot let go of for a long, long ti after the movie ends."
Jiang Ci's speech left everyone in the room speechless.
Especially the representatives from the investor side. They looked at Jiang Ci, feeling their scalps tingle.
This young man, where did he resemble an actor?
He was clearly a master manipulator who had insight into human nature and the market.
Jiang Ci had perfectly packaged his obsession with performance, his desperate desire for survival, into a pursuit of ultimate artistic effect.
Wei Song's breathing beca sowhat heavy.
His gaze swept back and forth between Jiang Ci, Zhao Yingfei, and his old friend and longti collaborator, Li Jun.
He saw the burning madness beneath Jiang Ci's calm eyes.
The fire ready to burst forth from Zhao Yingfei's slender fra.
More importantly, he saw his own deepest, innermost desire for a truly tiless masterpiece.
Take a gamble?
Or play it safe?
The entire conference room waited for his verdict.
Wei Song closed his eyes.
A few seconds later.
He snapped them open.
"Bang!"
He slamd his palm heavily onto the conference table.
Wei Song's gaze locked firmly onto Head Screenwriter Li Jun.
"Old Li."
His form of address hadn't changed, but the weight behind his words was as heavy as a mountain.
"Trust this once."
"And trust them this once."
Wei Song stood up, scanned the room, and announced his decision.
"This 'Po Zhen Wu,' we're adding it!"
Once the words were spoken, shock rippled through the entire assembly.
The veteran actors exchanged glances, ultimately choosing silence.
Head Screenwriter Li Jun seed as if all the strength had been drained from his body. He slowly sank back into his chair.
He didn't argue anymore. He didn't roar anymore.
He just lowered his head, looking at the script in front of him, densely covered in annotations, and said not a word.
His face held a disappointnt that no outsider could decipher.
Reviews
All reviews (0)