Chapter 123: The Details, Part 1

“This…” Gao Xiang looked down thoughtfully for a moment, then smiled. “I actually ended up trapped in a dead end along with you.”

Song Wan glanced at Gao Xiang in confusion.

“To invite so many renowned directors to a variety show is obviously impossible, but have you forgotten that this variety show is essentially a serious, genuine role audition?” Gao Xiang smiled, a hint of pride shining in her eyes. “Besides, our investor is Mr. Jin.”

In Jiuzhou, the name Jin Youqian itself symbolizes wealth, power, profit, and an endless array of resources.

No one would refuse an invitation from Jin Youqian.

In the entertainment industry, any miracle associated with Jin Youqian ceases to be surprising.

Song Wan was momentarily stunned, unable to respond right away.

Gao Xiang patted her head gently. “You really are like someone lost in the mountains, unaware of the surroundings.”

—

When it came to producing shows, none of the people in this room were particularly skilled.

But Gao Xiang could connect with the most experienced behind-the-scenes professionals in the variety show circle—from directors, cameramen, and scriptwriters to basic assistants. She could gather the entire team in just two or three days without much difficulty.

Zhou Qi was the first to voice an objection. “No scriptwriters. This show only needs a director for editing. Finding a reliable editor is better than anything.”

Gao Xiang raised an eyebrow, about to retort, “Variety shows are basically acted out; without a script, what’s there to perform?”—but Song Wan grabbed her arm.

Song Wan simply said, “If there’s a scriptwriter, there will definitely be characters. And with characters come personalities.”

Once personalities are established, there will naturally be likable and unlikable distinctions.

When a person’s appearance, personality, even intelligence quotient become focal points of the show’s observation, the actor’s actual acting skills become overshadowed. At that point, a show originally intended to introduce actors might instead become a platform for some actors to hype their popularity, which in turn affects the fairness of the drama itself.

When viewers begin to like an actor through the show, the fan’s filter blinds them to the actor’s true self. Song Wan could already imagine how chaotic the situation would become with her eyes closed.

If that happened, this variety show would stray far from her original vision.

That was not what she wanted.

Her eyes conveyed this message clearly.

Zhou Qi, who was even more opposed to the presence of a scriptwriter than Song Wan, naturally supported her view wholeheartedly.

Gao Xiang thought for a moment and understood the underlying reasoning.

“But conflict creates highlights, highlights create popularity, and popularity draws viewers,” Gao Xiang said seriously, unwilling to abandon this notion.

It was true, Song Wan admitted.

However...

“Gao Jie, ‘Starlit Sky’ already has enough popularity now. It doesn’t need so-called conflict that would lower its quality.”

The drama that served as the vehicle for this variety show had an unimaginable level of heat. As long as the show could be filmed and aired quickly to strike while the iron was hot, there would be no shortage of viewers.

“Not now, but later?” Gao Xiang’s expression turned grave. “Do you know how many variety show proposals are invested in and approved each year? How many of those get actually filmed? Of the ones filmed, how many are purchased by TV stations? And how many of the purchased shows truly reach the audience instead of fading without a trace?”

Song Wan frowned. “How many could there be?”

Though she asked, she knew the answer would be few.

The entertainment industry appeared radiant and bustling, but behind the dazzling scenes were countless failures nurtured with blood and sweat.

It was no surprise to Song Wan that reality shows, despite their apparent prosperity, had countless casualties.

After all, she had once been among those who failed.

But the data Gao Xiang next revealed still stunned Song Wan, even though she was prepared.

“You probably can’t imagine. Just at Mingcheng Film and Television alone, thousands of variety show proposals are initiated each year. Fewer than a hundred get filmed, and many of those only have one episode before being abruptly canceled because no TV station is interested.”

“And the ones that air…” Song Wan trailed off.

Gao Xiang glanced at her coldly. “Fewer than five shows get successfully purchased in the end. And the number of shows pulled off the air after a few episodes due to poor reception is countless.”

“There are fewer than twenty true satellite TV stations. The rest of the variety shows bought by other stations never even reach the audience’s eyes.”

“Then, due to lack of sponsors, low popularity, problems with actors, and other reasons, some shows get cut again,” Gao Xiang smiled faintly. “Song Wan, how many variety shows you’ve seen or heard of that left even a slight impression?”

Song Wan was stunned. She could only recall the two she had participated in: “Upward Star” and “Happy Family.” Beyond that, only a few talk and interview shows, but those were no longer popular.

Reality shows? Only “Upward Star.”

Zhou Qi seemed to know more than Song Wan. After a moment’s thought, he named five variety shows.

But these five belonged to different TV stations and production units...

According to Gao Xiang, Mingcheng Film and Television alone had thousands of variety show proposals that never saw the light of day. How many then existed in the entire entertainment industry’s countless companies and studios?

The figure was colossal. Even prepared as she was, Song Wan was stunned into silence.

Zhou Qi’s expression was grim too.

He had only thought the film industry was fiercely competitive; he hadn’t expected the variety show field to be just as ruthless.

He wasn’t ignorant of the market, but precisely because he understood it, he knew better than to abandon his principles. Otherwise, the final product would be miles from the original vision, and even you might forget what kind of show you initially wanted to create.

Because of Gao Xiang’s words, Zhou Qi hesitated momentarily—a rare occurrence for him.

But having faced countless such decisions, he quickly dispelled his doubts and steeled his resolve once more.

Gao Xiang was unsurprised. Her purpose in saying all this was never to persuade Zhou Qi.

She looked at Song Wan. “So, do you understand now?”

The competition in the entertainment industry was brutal. If pure acting were the only draw, the novelty might boost ratings briefly—she never doubted that.

But over time?

Without other highlights, humor, or even conflict and love, what would an acting-based variety show have to attract viewers?

Gao Xiang crossed her arms, her expression icy and resolute. “I’m not an actor, just a manager who thinks more about how to tap into the commercial value of my artists. I don’t understand your insistence, but I have to be responsible for the behind-the-scenes staff I’ve brought in.”

Song Wan was taken aback, then slumped.

Indeed, the people Gao Xiang recruited were undoubtedly top industry elites. If the show’s ratings plummeted after an initial surge, it would clearly damage their reputations...

Zhou Qi turned to Song Wan, looking almost relieved. “Then maybe we shouldn’t film it at all?”

“Absolutely not!” Song Wan refused without hesitation.

But she had no better solution.

Zhou Qi wasn’t surprised by her refusal; he simply reiterated, “You know my bottom line — I will never fake auditions. If actors auditioning from a weak position cheat or focus on attracting fans instead of acting, I will definitely eliminate them.”

After all, he was the director with the greatest authority in the crew.

Song Wan did not argue. She had always held the same stance.

But her current dilemma was how to make the show more entertaining without compromising these principles.

Reality shows themselves embody the philosophy of entertainment above all.

If celebrities can be used as tools for the audience’s amusement, what else is impossible?

Zhou Qi’s eyes flickered as he hinted to Song Wan, “You’re an actor after all. Don’t let frequent variety show appearances dull your aura and talent.”

If an actor frequently appears in public, losing that unique mystique, it becomes easy for viewers to be distracted during performances.

—Even if your acting is flawless, your face and figure, overly familiar to the audience, become an inherent flaw.

Song Wan nodded. “I’ve always known that.”

Even Gao Xiang understood this, which was why Song Wan had only participated in two variety shows so far.

Yet the situation remained at an impasse.

Gao Xiang was determined to push this show toward high ratings, while Song Wan and Zhou Qi insisted it be based on acting, with actors serving solely as vehicles for performance.

In other words, if an actor’s skills were inadequate, no matter how much potential they had for fame, they might not even get screen time. Becoming popular would be nothing but a fantasy.

If this couldn’t be achieved, Song Wan would rather hand the project over to the company to try on other IP dramas but would not allow anyone to treat “Starlit Sky” casually.

Even if it meant losing a chance to make “Starlit Sky” a classic, she was willing to pay that price.

Song Wan was on the verge of an emotional explosion, yet the other two simply sat quietly, offering no suggestions.

Just as she was about to give up, her phone suddenly rang.

Zhou Qi and Gao Xiang both sat up straight, their expressions serious as they looked toward Song Wan’s phone.

Song Wan was momentarily stunned but picked up the phone, unsurprised to see it was Jin Youqian calling.

She suddenly understood why Zhou Qi and Gao Xiang had withheld their opinions—they were waiting for Jin Youqian’s decision.

Only once the investment was confirmed would they speak openly, ensuring their words were not empty but could truly influence the show.

Song Wan answered the call. “Mr. Jin, has there been a decision on the proposal our team submitted?”

On the other end, Jin Youqian frowned deeply. “‘Mr. Jin’?!” His tone was suddenly irritated; he had no desire to speak with Song Wan.

“Mr. Jin?” Hearing no reply for a long moment, she asked again.