You were supposed to have a fake marriage with the diva, so how did you become her father?

Chapter 436 Serving as Editor-in-Chief

He had downloaded this script a long time ago, but hadn't used it yet.

I had considered having Tan Yu direct the film, but then I thought about it and realized that the film was too heavy a project for a new director like Tan Yu.

It's not a matter of ability, it's a matter of seniority.

Projects of this caliber require a director who can command the scene and a team that can mobilize resources from all sides.

Tan Yu still needs some time to develop his skills.

However, taking advantage of this opportunity, we could discuss with Wang Jianguo the possibility of having Tan Yu also featured in the director's section, adding a touch of prestige.

Lu Ran copied the file to a USB drive and took the USB drive back to the living room.

He handed the USB drive to Wang Jianguo, who looked somewhat puzzled when he took it.

"What is this?" Wang Jianguo asked.

"script."

When did you write it?

"I wrote this when I had nothing else to do. I never brought it out because I felt the timing wasn't right. But now that you're here, I think the time is right."

Lu Ran smiled and said seriously, "As the saying goes, a fine sword is given to a hero. I think this play can only reach its full potential in your hands."

Since he has an official background, Lu Ran must try his best to build a good relationship with Wang Jianguo. As long as he doesn't go too far, he'll have a smooth path ahead.

Wang Jianguo looked at the USB drive in his hand, his expression somewhat complicated.

He was probably thinking that the young man was just giving him the runaround.

A script cannot be written in a day or two, especially a serious drama on the theme of anti-corruption. It requires a lot of research and case studies. It cannot be written by sitting at home and brainstorming.

If the items Lu Ran brings out are of poor quality, then this trip will have been a waste.

But he didn't say it.

He clutched the USB drive in his hand, stood up, and said to Shen Zhiwei, "Old Shen, may I borrow your study for a moment?"

Shen Zhiwei stood up and led Wang Jianguo to the study.

Lu Ran followed them into the study, turned on the computer, plugged in the USB drive, and opened the file.

Wang Jianguo sat down in the chair, Shen Zhiwei stood behind him, and Lu Ran leaned against the desk.

Two large characters appeared on the screen: "Raging Speed".

Wang Jianguo started reading.

The first page is a story synopsis.

He read very slowly, almost line by line.

When he saw the name "Gao Qiqiang", he paused, muttered the name to himself, and then continued reading.

He paused again when he saw "An Xin".

Shen Zhiwei stood behind him, also staring at the screen. Neither of them spoke, and the air in the study seemed to freeze.

Seeing that they were watching intently, Lu Ran went to the living room, poured two glasses of water, brought them in, and placed them on the desk.

No one cares about him.

He then went to the kitchen, cut a plate of fruit, brought it in, and placed it next to the water glass.

Still, no one paid any attention to him.

He simply moved a chair over and sat down next to them, taking out his phone to browse tuk-tuks, but occasionally glancing up at the expressions of the two people.

Wang Jianguo's expression changed from scrutiny to focus, and then from focus to fascination.

He leaned forward from the back of his chair, placed his hands on the table, and stared intently at the screen.

Shen Zhiwei wasn't much better off; his mouth was slightly open, and he looked as if he were nailed to the back of Wang Jianguo's chair.

Lu Ran poured water for them three times. Each time he brought it in, the cups were full of water, untouched, and had only gotten cold.

The fruit was also neatly cut and arranged there, not a single piece missing.

He felt like a maidservant serving a master, but the master didn't appreciate it at all.

Time passed by, second by second.

The sunlight outside the window shifted from east to west, making the study very well-lit. In the afternoon, the sunlight streamed in through the window, casting large patches of golden light on the solid wood floor.

Lu Ran adjusted the angle of the blinds to make the light less glaring.

Nobody noticed.

He scrolled through his phone for a while, reading a few analytical articles about the gaming industry, checking out some trending topics on Weibo, and grabbing a few red envelopes in his fan group.

Everyone else was slacking off, but he was the only one working—no, he was the only one watching others work.

Finally, as darkness began to fall, Wang Jianguo finished reading the last page.

He did not speak immediately, nor did he stand up.

He just sat there in the chair, staring at the document that had scrolled to the bottom of the computer screen, without moving.

After about ten seconds, he pushed his chair back a little, stood up, turned around, and took Lu Ran's hands in his.

They held it very tightly.

Lu Ran was startled; the reaction was much stronger than he had expected.

Wang Jianguo's eyes were red.

It's not the kind of red that makes you want to cry, it's the kind of red that comes with emotion but you're desperately holding it back.

His lips moved a few times, as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't say anything the first time.

He took another deep breath, and this time he spoke, his voice trembling slightly.

"Teacher Lu, how long have you been writing this script?"

Lu Ran felt a little guilty about the question.

He can't say, "I downloaded it from the system in less than a second."

But he can't say "I've been writing for several years," because that wouldn't be true either.

He came up with a middle value.

"I've been writing this on and off for quite a while. I wrote down whatever came to mind, and it slowly accumulated."

Wang Jianguo nodded and did not ask any further questions.

His hand was still holding Lu Ran's hand, and he didn't let go.

"I've been in this industry for thirty years, and I've read at least eight hundred, if not a thousand, scripts. Good ones, bad ones too. But this script is different." He released one hand and pointed to the computer screen with the other. "Gao Qiqiang isn't a born villain. He's forced into that state step by step. When the audience watches him, they won't see him as an irredeemable devil; they'll feel sorry for him, hate him, and pity him. That's the kind of character that's real. There are no purely bad people in this world, nor are there purely good people. Everyone is pushed along by their environment; some people hold on, some don't."

Shen Zhiwei spoke up at this point, his voice lower than usual: "An Xin's storyline was also well written. He's not an omnipotent hero; he hesitates, he's afraid, and he wavers between perseverance and giving up. But in the end, he held on. This kind of character makes the audience feel a sense of identification, and they'll think, 'If I were him, I probably couldn't do it.' The more you can't do it, the more you admire those who can."

The two of them talked back and forth, as if they were writing a review of a script.

Lu Ran stood to the side, listening to them praise his writing. He felt a little smug, but maintained a humble expression on his face.

Wang Jianguo spoke for a while, then suddenly stopped, took Lu Ran's hand again, and this time held it even tighter.

"Teacher Lu, I absolutely must adapt this script. It's not just that I want to, it's that I should. Such a wonderful script, if it's not adapted, would be disrespectful to the screenwriter and irresponsible to the audience."

Lu Ran felt a little embarrassed by what he said.

He opened his mouth as if to say, "You flatter me," but before he could speak, Wang Jianguo spoke again, his voice even more earnest than before.

"Professor Lu, I hope you can be the head screenwriter for this project. I hope you can be on set throughout the entire filming process. Not to revise the script, but to ensure its integrity. A good script with an unreliable director is a disaster. I'm not saying Director Shen is unreliable, nor am I unreliable, but this film isn't decided by one person alone; there are many other forces involved. I need you to help me uphold the bottom line."

Lu Ran glanced at Shen Zhiwei.

Shen Zhiwei nodded, meaning "I agree".

Lu Ran thought about it and agreed.

It wasn't for money or fame, but because Wang Jianguo was right.

It would be a disservice to this notebook if it weren't photographed well.

He knew all too well how "The Storm" had turned out in his previous life.

Gao Qiqiang rose from a fishmonger to become the underground emperor of Jinghai City, while An Xin transformed from a spirited criminal police officer into a gray-haired propaganda chief. The entanglement and conflict between these two individuals over twenty years is one of the most compelling character relationships in the entire history of Chinese television dramas.

This world would not exist without Gao Qiqiang, An Xin, or Jinghai City.

He wants to recreate them, with words, with images, with actors' performances, and with directors' lenses.

This is the best opportunity a creator can have.

"Okay. I'll go with you."

Wang Jianguo breathed a sigh of relief, released his grip, took a step back, and bowed to Lu Ran.

It wasn't a casual nod; it was a serious, ninety-degree bow.

Lu Ran quickly helped him up: "Director Wang, please don't do this."

Such a high-ranking leader, someone of his father's generation and considered a senior, bowing to him—Lu Ran felt he couldn't accept it.

"This bow isn't for you, it's for the script you wrote." Wang Jianguo straightened up, his eyes reddening slightly again. "Teacher Lu, you have no idea how many years I searched for a script like this. Anti-corruption is a difficult subject to write. If it's too shallow, it's boring; if it's too deep, it won't air. You've found just the right spot, not too shallow, not too deep, perfectly balanced. It's something that the audience can enjoy without making the higher-ups think you're causing trouble. Finding this balance is harder than writing ten thousand words."

When Wang Jianguo and Shen Zhiwei left, it was already completely dark.

Lu Ran and Shen Yuege stood at the door to see them off.

Before getting into the car, Wang Jianguo turned around again and said, "Teacher Lu, keep in touch," before bending down and getting into the car.

Shen Zhiwei was driving, and he was sitting in the passenger seat. He rolled down the window, waved to Lu Ran, and said, "Remember to put the pickled vegetables in the refrigerator." Then he stepped on the gas, and the car disappeared around the corner at the entrance of the community.

Lu Ran stood at the door, holding the red plastic bag in his hand. Inside the bag were pickled vegetables made by Chen Huixian.

He stared in the direction the car had disappeared, his mind replaying the few hours he had spent in the study.

Although Wang Jianguo seemed to have a great presence and held a high position when we first met, he didn't treat Lu Ran like a junior at all.

Because of Wang Jianguo's ability to do this, Lu Ran held Wang Jianguo in much higher regard.

People in high positions are often unwilling and unable to lower themselves unless they are genuinely moved.

Shen Yuege said from behind him, "Let's go inside. What are you doing standing here?"

Lu Ran snapped out of her daze, closed the door, and put the pickled vegetables in the refrigerator.

It was indeed a kind gesture from my mother-in-law; after getting tired of delicacies, it was good to try pickled vegetables.

Shen Yuege stood in the kitchen doorway, watching him busy at work, and asked, "Are you really going to finish that script?"

When the two of them were looking at the script, Shen Yuege didn't get close, so she thought Lu Ran had only written the beginning.

Lu Ran closed the refrigerator door, turned around and looked at her: "It's already written."

"When was it written? How come I didn't know?"

"It was written when you weren't home. The day you went to get your hair done, the day you went to the studio, and after you went to sleep." Lu Ran always made up the times when Shen Yuege wasn't home, since Shen Yuege had no idea anyway.

Shen Yuege thought about it and realized that there were indeed a few times when she got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night and the study light was still on.

She assumed Lu Ran was working overtime writing code, so she didn't disturb him.

In retrospect, it wasn't writing code, it was writing a script.

"So, will you be working on set from now on? How long will filming last?"

"I don't know. Director Wang said he'd try to get it released during the summer holidays, so it shouldn't be too long. Maybe two or three months."

Shen Yuege said "Oh" and didn't say anything more.

She turned and went back to the kitchen, opened the pot lid on the stove and looked inside; the soup was already cold.

She turned the fire back on, heated the soup, and then stood in front of the stove, staring blankly at the steam slowly rising from the pot.

Lu Ran walked over, wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's nothing. I just think you're so capable. You can make games, write songs, write scripts, you can do everything. When I'm next to you, it feels like all I can do is sing."

Lu Ran laughed: "You can't do anything besides singing? You can even cook braised pork. Although sometimes it's salty, sometimes bland, and sometimes it's burnt, the fact that you're doing it is your greatest skill."

Shen Yuege turned around in his arms, looking into his eyes: "Are you praising me or insulting me?"

"I'm praising you. I'm praising you 100%."

...