Chapter Thirty-Six: That Is Why I Have Always Supported Women's Independence

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“Because we grow up, we have no choice but to get used to it~”

“Because we grow up, sometimes we suddenly drift apart~”

Xu Ming gradually let his voice fade and looked toward Teng Huatou. “How was that?”

“Not bad. This song is quite polished.” Teng Huatou raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.

“Director Teng knows his stuff. This song was originally meant to go on my album. I’ve just been too busy lately; I’ll probably continue working on it once I have some free time.” Xu Ming smiled.

With his popularity, it would be a shame not to release an album.

Besides, if he wanted to move up in the industry, an album was practically obligatory. It was an unspoken rule of Chinese entertainment.

Any artist with a certain degree of fame would try to develop in multiple directions.

That was why the Chinese entertainment world often presented scenes difficult for the Western industry to understand: an artist was usually active in film, television, and music, and if they had any talent for variety shows, they became a quadruple-threat performer.

Artists who succeeded as actors and then turned to singing—or directing—were everywhere.

The reverse was just as common: singers who did well enough would move into acting.

In the Western entertainment industry, however, a film star rarely returned to the small screen, and singers who tried acting were often mocked.

By contrast, in China, Huang Bo had to become a Best Actor before he could take the lead in a television drama, while Qin Hao had even gone on to act in web dramas.

The difference between the two industries was plain to see.

“Heh, my father studied music when he was young. If the music conservatory hadn’t stopped accepting students, he wouldn’t have ended up applying to the directing department at the Beijing Film Academy.”

Teng Huatou smiled. His father, Teng Wenji, had made a musical as his very first film.

“I think it’s quite good. Record it when you have time. By the way, what’s the song called?”

“Say We Should Part,” Xu Ming replied.

“That fits the heartbreak theme of our film rather well. Would you mind singing it with Song Jia?” Teng Huatou asked.

Normally, if a film’s theme song revolved around romance, it was best for the male and female leads to sing it together.

But this was Xu Ming’s own composition, and his popularity was far greater than Song Jia’s.

“Of course. Everything comes second to the film.” Xu Ming nodded.

Thirty-Three Days of Lost Love was not only Teng Huatou’s chance to revive his career; it was also his first step toward proving his talent to investors.

Actors were merely tools. Only by gaining control over a project could one escape the fate of being a puppet on strings.

That was why, whether it was Jet Li, Jackie Chan, or Stephen Chow, they had all eventually chosen to assemble and produce their own projects.

The same was true at home and abroad. Every superstar followed that path.

Song Jia, standing nearby, froze slightly. She had not expected to benefit from this as well.

Her expression was complicated. Pressing her lips together, she said, “Thank you, Mr. Xu.”

“No need to thank me,” Xu Ming replied casually.

Who could have expected that night, two knocks would sound on his door?

The moment he opened it, a soft body slipped inside.

Before Xu Ming could ask what was happening, a familiar scent sealed his lips.

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It was not until he was pushed down onto the bed that he realized what was happening. A figure straddled him, and a soft ribbon flicked lightly against his chest.

Why should anyone need so many explanations in life?

Sometimes, it was enough simply to enjoy the moment.

Xu Ming closed his eyes, feeling the faint rustling and caress in the darkness.

…Fifty thousand words omitted…

In the days that followed, harmony returned to the production.

Everyone once again saw the male and female leads huddled together, whispering to each other every day.

All they could do was sigh and marvel at how changeable women were.

Teng Huatou, on the other hand, felt that things had worked out perfectly. He immediately filmed all the scenes involving the developing relationship between the two leads.

April 12.

The weather in the capital had grown slightly warmer.

On set.

“Cut. That’s a wrap for this take.”

“I hereby announce that Thirty-Three Days of Lost Love has officially wrapped!”

As Teng Huatou’s voice rang out, everyone present cheered like a pack of delirious beasts.

Many of them still had to rush straight on to their next production after this one ended.

But hearing the words “that’s a wrap” always carried a special sense of finality.

“Don’t rush off yet. We’ll take the production vehicles to the banquet later. Mr. Xu has arranged a wrap party for everyone,” the production manager announced.

“Mr. Xu, you’re the best!”

“Mr. Xu, I want to have your children!”

The crowd became even more excited. Not every production held a wrap party, especially not low-budget productions.

“Don’t repay my kindness by cursing me,” Xu Ming called back, a smile spreading across his face as well.

Spending the investor’s money while earning himself goodwill came naturally to him.

Meanwhile, the production manager turned to Teng Huatou and said in a low voice, “Director Teng, Mr. Xu asked me to find out whether there’s any gift you’d like. The budget is under one hundred thousand.”

Teng Huatou immediately understood. There was still quite a bit of money left from the filming budget, and they were going to spend it in a hurry.

After thinking it over, he named an item worth around eighty thousand. That way, he would not look too greedy.

Once the item was in his hands, whether he sold it or kept it for himself was no longer the production’s concern.

The main reason for buying an actual item was that it came with an invoice. Even if the investors found out, they would usually turn a blind eye. Dividing the money directly, however, would have been going too far.

Of course, more ruthless productions had already quietly funneled money into the pockets of key behind-the-scenes personnel during filming, through food expenses, equipment rentals, casting fees, and a whole range of other costs.

Thirty-Three Days of Lost Love had Xu Ming as both investor and leading man, and he was present on set every day.

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Besides, the production was not very large, so there was little opportunity to siphon off any money.

At the wrap party, cups were raised and exchanged amid lively conversation.

One after another, people came over to toast Xu Ming, and he refused no one.

After seeing everyone off, he raised his own glass toward Teng Huatou. “Director Teng, let me offer you a toast. I hope we’ll have the chance to work together again.”

“Heh. Working with you has been quite pleasant—aside from the fact that directing this film hasn’t given me much sense of accomplishment.”

Teng Huatou had clearly had too much to drink. Alcohol had loosened his tongue.

“Ultimately, we’re all working toward the film’s success. Everyone feels accomplished when the box office soars. If the film bombs, what good is that sense of accomplishment?” Xu Ming said with a smile.

“That’s true.”

Teng Huatou nodded. He knew all too well that this industry judged heroes solely by success or failure.

As long as someone had enough value, even a prostitute would have people rushing to erect a monument to her virtue.

Then he lifted his chin and gave Xu Ming a subtly malicious signal.

Puzzled, Xu Ming turned around and saw Song Jia standing there, holding a bottle of liquor in one hand and a glass in the other.

“Mr. Xu, I’d like to thank you for taking such good care of me during this time.”

Song Jia downed one glass, poured another, and then drained three in succession.

The surrounding crowd cheered.

Naturally. He had taken such good care of her that they had ended up in bed together.

“It was only right. I’m not good at much else, but I do enjoy helping people.” Xu Ming raised his glass and returned the toast.

“Brother Ming, why don’t you take care of me too?” a burly man shouted.

“Women, leave your contact information. Men, work on yourselves. Now get lost.” Xu Ming shot back irritably.

Everyone burst into laughter.

He looked at Song Jia, then reached out and took the bottle and glass from her hands.

“Drink less. Don’t you know your own tolerance?”

“You can control me for a while, but can you control me for the rest of my life?”

Song Jia stared straight at Xu Ming, her drunken gaze brimming with seductive charm.

“That’s why I’ve always supported women’s independence.”

Xu Ming avoided her eyes and patted the back of her hand. “All right, stop making a fuss.”

“You really are a bastard,” Song Jia spat drunkenly.

“You flatter me.”

Xu Ming cupped his hands in mock surprise.

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