Losing Money to Become a Tycoon: Starting with Games
Chapter 425: Even President Pei Was Moved to Tears
The movie continued.
After spending three hours "out for air," Lu Zhiyao returned to his capsule and resumed his monotonous, repetitive life.
The opening portion devoted quite a bit of time to depicting details of life in the future—relief meals, overpriced snacks, interactive variety shows where people could place guesses, and so on.
Lu Zhiyao's performance in this segment was perfectly measured. He was just someone at the very bottom of society, a destitute man whose emotions were controlled by these simple ups and downs.
When he made money from TV shows, he celebrated happily;
When he lost everything in a bad guess, he flew into a helpless rage;
Sometimes he felt empty and hopeless, lying motionless in his capsule;
Other times, he would stare at enticing advertisements and the upper-class lifestyle atop distant skyscrapers, filled with envy.
Various advertisements played on the television programs. Although they only appeared in the background, they were still filmed with great care.
Lin Ruyi made her appearance, gradually forming a romantic relationship with the protagonist, and then proposed the idea of participating in a talent show…
…
As for the rest of the plot, Pei Qian was extremely familiar with it. After all, he had written the entire story outline himself, and he had already seen the rough cut.
Yet as he watched, he still found himself unconsciously drawn in, his emotions completely carried along by the film.
The excellent editing made each segment just the right length—leaving room for reflection while smoothly transitioning the audience into the next scene;
The actors' superb performances brought each character vividly to life on the big screen, creating a powerful emotional resonance with the audience;
The outstanding background music perfectly set the tone, subtly guiding the audience's emotions to align with the film;
The detailed props and the heavily invested special effects for the outside world gave the entire movie a distinct sci-fi atmosphere—creating a sense of detachment from reality while also delivering a strange kind of authenticity, as if the film truly depicted a real future world…
This was the magic of film.
A simple story outline is ultimately pale and powerless, but once adapted into a movie, it is enriched with countless details and enhanced by audiovisual stimulation, creating an entirely new experience.
These details were so well executed that even the advertisements within the film didn't feel out of place—in fact, many of them, despite their unclear meanings, felt oddly interesting!
Pei Qian mechanically stuffed popcorn into his mouth, with only one thought in his mind:
Did I really write this script???
The story outline was indeed similar to what he had written, but what appeared on screen was completely different from what he had imagined!
In the first half, nothing seemed too unusual. But after the midpoint, the story suddenly took a sharp turn, revealing its fangs!
When Lin Ruyi confronted Lu Zhiyao, a collective gasp echoed through the theater.
Clearly, many audience members were shocked by this unexpected twist and found it hard to accept at first.
But the outburst of angry complaints that Pei Qian had imagined… never came.
Instead, everyone watched even more intently!
Even Pei Qian himself felt no anger or sense of being "poisoned" by the plot—only shock, along with anticipation for what would happen next.
That's when he realized something was seriously wrong.
This shouldn't be happening… why don't I feel angry at this scene?
Wasn't this supposed to be an extremely "toxic" plot development?
Shoving another handful of popcorn into his mouth, Pei Qian tried to analyze the reason behind this reaction.
It seemed to stem from a unique sense of detachment created by the film.
In the opening segment, the movie spent considerable time portraying the protagonist's daily life—eating instant meals, watching TV programs, wandering aimlessly in the streets at midnight, and so on.
But instead of deepening the audience's immersion, it actually distanced them, turning them into detached observers.
Throughout the filming, the camera felt like a surveillance lens—cold, emotionless, looking down on the protagonist's life from above.
The sweetness of the protagonists' romance was diluted, and naturally, the pain of their breakup was also softened. This approach allowed the audience to perceive the characters' emotional fluctuations, yet as if separated by a pane of glass—preventing any overwhelming emotional impact from taking hold.
Pei Qian suddenly realized that he might have made a mistake.
A film is a form of artistic expression, but the same script, when handed to different directors, can result in completely different works!
That's because during the filmmaking process, a director continuously injects their own "personal touches"—shooting techniques, various details within the film, the pacing of storytelling…
All of these influence how the audience perceives the story.
Some scripts that seem utterly dull can, in the hands of a director with a strong personal style, become classics in film history—for precisely this reason!
Clearly, Zhu Xiaoce's understanding of the story was completely different from Pei Qian's original intent…
And the director had obviously filmed it according to his own interpretation. So after editing and post-production, the entire movie had completely deviated from what Pei Qian originally wanted to express.
The original "toxicity" had been largely neutralized, replaced instead by a sense of deep compassion.
The female lead's actions were clearly despicable, yet the audience couldn't bring themselves to hate her;
The male protagonist was obviously pitiful and foolish, yet the audience's reaction toward him was reduced to a faint sympathy—mourning his misfortune while resenting his weakness.
And when the male protagonist finally gained immense wealth and seemed to rise into high society, the audience didn't feel happy for him. Instead, they could clearly sense that he had lost himself.
Their perception of him suddenly became distant and unfamiliar. It was obvious that, within the vortex of materialism and money, he had completely lost who he was.
Wealth hadn't elevated him—it had controlled his life, turning him into a pitiable figure.
In the end, the protagonist played by Lu Zhiyao was schemed against by the judge played by Zhang Zuting. His reputation was ruined, and he was left buried in debt, lying on his bed like a living corpse.
Meanwhile, on the big screen, the woman chosen by the judges to replace him was doing almost exactly what he had once done—the story seemed to fall into a despairing cycle…
The screen went black.
The movie ended.
The ending song began to play, its melody filled with a unique sense of sorrow and desolation.
This was originally the song the female lead, played by Lin Ruyi, had sung during the talent show—where she had been harshly mocked and ridiculed by the judges for being tone-deaf. At the time, it hadn't left much of an impression on the audience.
But now, placed at the end of the film, the way it was sung seemed slightly different. Comparing the two versions gave it an indescribable new meaning.
Pei Qian looked around at the audience in the theater.
What was going on? Wasn't this ending toxic enough?
Shouldn't you all be standing up and shouting for refunds right now?
Or at least making some kind of dismissive noise like "tsk" or "what was that supposed to be"?
Yet the entire theater remained silent. No one stood up, and no one made a sound.
Another round of credits rolled.
Pei Qian noticed that his name was listed at the top of the writing team, on a separate line, even marked with "Special Thanks."
This did nothing to comfort President Pei, whose heart felt utterly cold.
The first post-credit scene showed the judge played by Zhang Zuting leisurely enjoying a vacation in his luxurious mansion, gently swirling a glass of red wine. The dark crimson liquid reflected his face.
Sitting across from him was a heavily made-up woman—the very host who had replaced the protagonist after his downfall.
Suddenly, sirens sounded outside. Amid the chaos, the woman stood up in a panic and walked out. The judge also rose in alarm, dropping his wine glass, which shattered on the ground.
After some time, the judge did not return.
Instead, the woman—who had seemed so panicked earlier—came back and sat down. She poured herself some red wine into an intact glass and drank it in one gulp.
The camera lingered on her vivid red lips as they curved slightly into a meaningful smile.
Another round of credits rolled.
The second post-credit scene returned to the protagonist's capsule.
His posture—collapsed on the ground—had not changed. But his now much longer hair and beard, along with the wrinkles etched on his face, suggested that a long time had passed.
Suddenly, a commotion sounded from outside, followed by the blaring of alarms.
With a loud bang, the capsule door was smashed open. Someone seemed to throw something inside before turning and leaving.
From outside, faint sounds of furious shouting could still be heard—it seemed the destitute were clashing violently with those trying to maintain order.
The male protagonist walked to the doorway in a daze and discovered that it was a bloodstained handgun.
…
With a click, the lights in the theater came on.
Only then did many audience members seem to wake from a dream, standing up one after another.
There were no complaints, no angry outbursts. Instead, everyone remained silent, as if they hadn't fully escaped the emotions brought on by the film.
Some people began to whisper quietly.
"This movie is incredible… was this really made by a domestic director?"
"Yeah, the imagination, the twists—I was completely stunned!"
"I don't know why, but after watching it, I feel kind of heavy inside…"
"As a drama, it's actually really good."
"It feels pretty deep. There are a lot of parts I didn't fully understand—guess I'll wait for some reviews."
"Honestly, Lu Zhiyao's acting in this was really good. Surprisingly, it didn't feel out of place at all!"
The couple sitting next to him also stood up and followed the crowd toward the exit.
"It wasn't the romance film I expected, but it turned out to be surprisingly good."
"Yeah, I feel like the movie is telling us to cherish the people in front of us. We really have to treat each other well, okay?"
"It was really touching—I cried so much," the girl said, wiping her tears with a tissue.
She tilted her head slightly and glanced at the seat next to them, then whispered, "Look, that guy was moved to tears too."
In his seat, Pei Qian silently stuffed chips into his mouth, tears streaming down his face.
It's over. This movie is doomed!
What kind of feedback is this from the audience?!
"Worth the ticket price"?
"Pretty good"?
"Deep storyline"?
"Looking forward to reviews"?
What are they even talking about?!
These viewers have completely misunderstood!
I was trying to feed you all poison, not this!
Hic.
Pei Qian let out a full-bellied burp as he cried.
Seems like he ate too much popcorn…
<+>
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