Chapter Seventeen: The Night Before the Premiere
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With a soft snap, the pitch-black room suddenly brightened. Though each person inside wore a different expression, they all subtly turned their gaze toward the man in the center.
This was a small screening room at China Film Group. Zhang Qianjun, Liu Chang, and their escort, Teacher Tian, had invited several relevant leaders for a private viewing.
“The overall impression is good—the story is complete, and the visuals are quite fine. Although there are minor flaws, considering the production costs and the team’s experience, these imperfections do not overshadow the merits. Director Tian, congratulations. Truly, a great teacher produces outstanding disciples,” said the middle-aged man in the center, who carried the air of a senior official.
His words immediately eased the tension in the room.
“Director Wang, you flatter us. Thank you for taking the time. I mostly helped with connections; the young team handled most of the work,” Tian replied modestly.
“Young talent is promising. With this group from Beijing Film Academy working tirelessly, the nation’s film industry will surely reach new heights,” the two exchanged pleasantries. Director Wang, citing his busy schedule, took his leave first, entrusting follow-up matters to an assigned staff member.
Zhang Qianjun exhaled deeply, finally settling the matter. If anyone told him again that making a film was as simple as writing a script, gathering a few people, shooting in a month, and premiering in three, he’d slap them without hesitation.
Investing in films is indeed high risk. Even with such a small crew as that of "Better Days," which mostly used the school’s own personnel—mostly young people—the crew still argued frequently.
Fortunately, the film was successfully completed and obtained screening approval. Now, all that remained was the release.
After bidding farewell to the China Film Group’s staff, the group slowly walked outside.
“Qianjun, why did you fight for this release window? March is clearly a slow season, and April 8th is still uncertain,” Liu Chang asked, puzzled by the April release date.
“Exactly because March is average, early April might be better. Our film’s genre is different—a refreshing touch amid a sea of greasy middle-aged romance dramas might have a unique effect. Besides, our core goal is securing screen time. Even if you get a spot during the National Day holiday, how many screenings would that be? One or two? I don’t want to experience the feeling of being pulled from theaters at any moment. As long as we have screenings, what does a ‘good’ slot really mean?” Zhang explained.
Director Tian nodded repeatedly. “Qianjun’s approach is prudent—first guarantee screen time, then consider other factors. If you go for the National Day slot with many blockbusters, it could be pulled within a day.”
Zhang looked at Liu Chang. “How’s the trailer coming along?”
“We made two versions as you requested. One is a youthful, fresh version with the soundtrack ‘The Wind Rises,’ and the other is a dark, violent crime-themed version using the ending song ‘Fly Away.’ Both edited and scored personally by Gong Ge’er.”
“Good. Gather the core team later to review them. If all is well, have Li Kai contact Sina for the film’s full Weibo integration. The contracts specify we must coordinate the trending hashtags properly.”
Liu Chang nodded and began making calls.
As Zhang Qianjun briskly walked down the corridor, he noticed a few people lingering. Leading them was an older gentleman with a graying side-parted hairstyle and glasses, who stared at him intently. It reminded Zhang of seeing a vice president not directly under him at the company headquarters. Habitually, he nodded and greeted, “Hello, General Manager La.”
The elder was momentarily surprised but returned the nod. They passed each other.
Getting into the car, Liu Chang sat in the passenger seat, casting a glance of envy at Zhang Qianjun behind the wheel. But those who know cars best are always those who don’t own one.
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“Why did you buy such an old-fashioned car? I thought you’d go for a 911 or some sports car,” Liu Chang commented.
Zhang buckled his seatbelt. “If I bought a 911, you’d be taking the subway home today.”
“Even if you like SUVs, you spent nearly 900,000 yuan—why not just add a bit more and get a Cayenne?”
“Then add another million for a Range Rover. The Q7 is quite practical.”
“Audi burns oil. How much oil would that consume in a year?”
“Engine oil isn’t expensive—a bottle in the trunk year-round is enough. Besides, Porsches burn oil too.”
While Liu Chang was still lamenting Zhang’s decision to spend 900,000 yuan on a black Q7, Director Tian, sitting in the back seat, smiled quietly. Youth is wonderful. The tension in the screening room had vanished, replaced by the busy coordination of work like a leader, followed by a debate about the car’s suitability as soon as they got in.
No matter how steady and competent, they were still young, full of vitality.
Watching his student and Zhang Qianjun’s profiles, Director Tian felt deeply moved. It was worth the effort before retirement to use his connections. Zhang was truly someone who could lead. If his student could keep up with him, their future was limitless.
After dropping Teacher Tian back at the school, the two headed straight to the Sun System Film and Culture Media company office, where everyone had gathered.
It was inconvenient to work on campus, so after the New Year, Zhang Qianjun rented an office nearby to set up the company.
As the last brief “Fly Away” echoed, the dark night version of the trailer ended.
“Awesome! I think the dark version is more intense than the youthful one. Sixty seconds of full-throttle visuals—feels like watching an action blockbuster,” Zhang praised Gong Ge’er with a thumbs-up.
“Gong is amazing!” he exclaimed.
Gong Ge’er smiled his classic eighteen-trick grin. “Well, you paid well, so it had to please Boss Zhang. O(∩_∩)O hahaha~”
Li Kai asked, “Qianjun, isn’t one minute too short for a promo, even with two versions?”
Zhang shook his head. “Not at all. People today have no patience. Videos like this need to be thrilling and rhythmically synced with music. This length is perfect. Kai, note this: On April 1 at noon, release the youthful version across Weibo, Bilibili, AcFun, major video sites, and forums. Then coordinate with the paid influencers to push it, focusing on Bilibili and Weibo.
On April 4 at midnight, release the dark version on all platforms. After that, pour all traffic in, ensuring the Weibo trending topics stay up all day. We’ve got ten trending tags; one for the youthful version, one for the dark version.”
Li Kai took notes swiftly and repeated the plan back to Zhang to confirm.
After confirming, Li Kai half-jokingly said, “Boss Zhang, I’m the lighting technician and head of props. Even if you want me to learn to be an executive producer now, don’t treat me like an assistant. You really need to hire a full-time manager and assistant. I’m afraid this will affect company affairs.”
Li Kai was closer to Zhang because he had signed with Zhang’s company, becoming employee number two—a privileged company staff member with social insurance and benefits.
Currently, the company had fewer than ten employees: Zhang and Li Kai, two accountants, and a clerk—this was the entirety of Sun System Film’s staff.
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Zhang understood but said finding the right person wasn’t easy. An assistant must be of good character, sharp, and presentable, but an agent needs planning and networking skills. No top agent would come to such a small company.
Suddenly, the classic iPhone ringtone sounded. Zhang saw it was “Glasses Brother,” an old acquaintance he hadn’t contacted in a while.
“Brother Yanqing, long time no see. What’s up?”
“Qianjun, how have you been? Got time to meet up?” Yanqing’s voice over the phone sounded a bit hesitant, or perhaps embarrassed.
“I’m extremely busy lately, no time to go out,” Zhang replied.
Hearing this, Yanqing felt a little down, ready to say goodbye, but then his next words rekindled his hope.
“You know my style—just say what’s on your mind. I’m really busy. If you have time, come to my company. Gotta hang up now.”
The line went dead. Yanqing wanted to shout internally, “You haven’t even told me your company’s address!”
Ping. A message arrived. Yanqing opened it: a company address.
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“Qianjun, your film career is really taking off,” Yanqing sighed, looking around the busy office. Last year, he sought to sign this college student; now the student was a company boss making films. Though the movie hadn’t premiered yet, it looked impressive.
“Taking off, my foot. Not a single film released, and I don’t even have an office. Glasses Brother, get to the point.”
Yanqing felt a bit awkward but spoke honestly.
“My old company is in chaos. The vice president, General Manager Zhang, whom I reported to, is overwhelmed and can’t look after me. Though he asked me to wait until next year to join his new company, I want to come to you first to do the agent work we talked about before.”
“So, you got laid off?” Zhang asked bluntly.
“No, I left voluntarily,” Yanqing replied firmly.
“I’m short-staffed now. Come help me for a few months. When your old boss’s new company is ready next year, if you still want to work in music, you can follow him then.”
“Qianjun, I—” Yanqing tried to speak but was cut off.
“Deal. When you’re free, ask Clerk Xiao Chen to prepare your contract and social insurance. Now,” Zhang turned and called out, “Kai, come here!
This is Li Yanqing, senior agent from Mai Tian. An old friend. He’ll be responsible for artist management at our company. And this is our film production director, Li Kai. Kai, quickly update Yanqing on what we need now. He starts work today!”
Li Kai thought silently, When did I become film production director? We don’t even have that department. But it didn’t matter. Having someone to share the workload was good. He took Yanqing aside, and they began the demanding outreach work.
Zhang Qianjun returned to his car, opening the system interface after a long time. He gazed at the 2010 double-point special project “Better Days,” which he had used only once a year, then at his own 30 million points earned through seven months of relentless effort. His heart surged.
Finally, the moment had arrived. He silently set the value to maximum and injected it all at once. Show hand!
How it would end depended entirely on the film’s release.