Cheng Lie and Jing Yu continued their conversation about the box office performance and theater distribution for their two films. Then, Cheng finally asked a question he'd been holding back for a while.
"Jing Yu, what's your plan going forward?"
Cheng was aware of the discussions Jing Yu had with Meng Yu.
If nothing changed, Jing Yu would still work with Yunteng TV to produce TV dramas—but now, he had a bright future in film as well.
Both his debut movies had exploded with success. If he didn't strike while the iron was hot to cement his name and influence in the film industry, that would be a wasted opportunity.
But no matter which path he chose... it would feel like a bit of a loss.
Movies or television?
"What do you mean?" Jing Yu didn't quite get what Cheng was trying to say.
"I mean, should our company focus on the TV industry next—or keep making films?"
"Do we even have to choose? Obviously, we go for both! I want it all." Jing Yu gave Cheng a strange look.
"...Huh?" Cheng blinked, taken aback.
Both?
Then he quickly realized he'd been thinking too narrowly.
His background in TV made him used to managing one project at a time.
And realistically, if you're only collaborating with a single screenwriter, most people can only lead one project at once.
"Do you really have the bandwidth for both? You're our company's golden brand now. I'd rather you take your time and craft a masterpiece every few years than spread yourself thin and let quality drop."
"Are you underestimating me?" Jing Yu grinned playfully.
"Let's see—I joined Yunteng TV last year. Since then: 'Hikaru no Go', 'Another', 'Steins; Gate', 'Initial D', 'Dragon Zakura', and now 'Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal' and 'Love Letter'. That's eight works in under two years. Plus..."
"Okay, okay! I get it! You're a freak of nature in the screenwriting world. I shouldn't have doubted you," Cheng said quickly.
"Then I'll start contacting some of the industry pros I know. All our previous production teams were temporary—once filming wrapped, everyone disbanded. But if you're serious about expanding, I'll bring them in full-time. It'll make cost control easier, too."
"Sounds good," Jing Yu nodded.
"Only thing is... the budget." Cheng hesitated.
The four shareholders in their company had essentially invested all their cash in the post-production and marketing of the two films.
"Don't worry about that. The box office shares from 'Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal' and 'Love Letter' might not hit our account until after the New Year, but I can still cover salaries for new hires. Between royalties from my past work at Jinhui TV and Yunteng TV, plus the downloads of the songs I wrote for these projects, I've got over a million coming into my account each month."
Jing Yu paused before continuing.
"If you can find the right talent, bring them in. In two or three months, we'll have serious money—not just small capital. I'm talking billions."
He looked at the live box office feed for 'Love Letter' on his screen and let out a long breath.
Three years in this world. Over a dozen works. Everything he had poured into these two films.
Finally, the return was in the billions.
Whether in television or film, it was the same truth: money is power. Without funding, no matter how good your ideas are, you're still at the mercy of investors. One day, they might ask him to make a low-budget epic with a 60-year-old woman as the romantic lead—and he'd have to comply.
In the days that followed, 'Love Letter' continued to hold the number-one spot in daily box office earnings.
The producers of 'Summer Dream' made several attempts to reverse the trend—calling in PR teams, hiring shills, even spreading smear campaigns online against 'Love Letter'.
But with a 9.6 rating on Yindou Net and over a million positive reviews, those efforts barely made a dent.
That said, 'Love Letter''s box office momentum didn't last long. It peaked early.
Day two had crossed the 100 million mark, and day three rose even higher thanks to strong word-of-mouth, ending with 120 million. Day four dipped to 105 million, and by day five, it had dropped significantly to around 70 million.
From there, it steadily declined—60 million, 50 million, 40 million—until by day ten, it was hovering around 20 to 30 million per day.
At that point, its upward trajectory had clearly plateaued—but outside the theater, its reputation and cultural impact were just beginning.
"Lead director of Great Zhou's third-generation filmmakers, Gu Meng—retired for over a decade—praises 'Love Letter' as the best romance film of the past ten years."
"Good works linger in the heart—forums across the internet are filled with fans sharing fan edits and short videos inspired by 'Love Letter'."
"Fifteen days after release, 'Love Letter' has grossed 730 million. It's set to break the Qixi Festival box office record."
"Tens of thousands of viewers are calling for a sketch-themed 'Love Letter' merch line!"
"A love letter delayed by over a decade—a confession from a boy long gone to the girl who still lives in his memories."
"The highest-rated film of the year in Great Zhou, 'Love Letter' ranks eighth in box office revenue so far—curiously, the second-highest-rated film is 'Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal', written by the same screenwriter, and it currently holds fourth place, behind the three Spring Festival giants."
"The rise of genius screenwriter Jing Yu—from obscurity in a small TV station to the peak of television, and now dazzling Great Zhou's film industry with his debut."
"Is Jing Yu the face of a new generation of film writers? Among all Great Zhou screenwriters in their twenties, he's the only one whose film has broken 300 million at the box office!"
If people had once said the success of 'Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal' was luck, now that 'Love Letter' had also scored both critical acclaim and commercial success, no one in the industry could ignore Jing Yu's name anymore.
TV industry folks felt a bit smug.
See? It's not that we suck—it's just that Jing Yu is a monster.
Now that he'd stepped into film, even the veterans were left dumbfounded.
Meanwhile, Jing Yu's TV fans went wild on social media, promoting him everywhere and recommending all his past works and stats to moviegoers.
Many film fans who claimed they didn't know who he was suddenly realized—
His work had already infiltrated their lives.
The theme songs from Initial D—"All the way North ," "Deja Vu," "Drift".
The iconic scores and tracks from Hikaru no Go.
The cult status of White Album 2's "White Bible."
The original soundtracks from Your Lie in April.
Even people who didn't watch dramas had unknowingly encountered his work.
Under relentless recommendations from TV fans, filmgoers were stunned into silence.
A top-level Go player, a street-racing god, a musical genius, a master screenwriter—and with his hand-to-hand skills in 'Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal', maybe even a martial artist?
Jing Yu was now blowing up among Great Zhou's movie fans.
In the past five years, no one had transitioned from television to film more successfully.
He'd only debuted in the film industry less than two months ago, but that label was already firmly attached to him.
Just as investors and studios were rushing to get his address, eager to throw money at him—
A rumor began circulating in the Great Zhou film and television circles:
The new star actor, screenwriter, and composer Jing Yu...
might be returning to television.
At first, even the Big Six networks and Jing Yu's drama fans didn't quite believe it.
Who in their right mind would leave a booming movie career to go back to making TV shows?
But inquiries to the Yunteng TV official site returned vague, non-committal answers.
To be honest, many of his fans hoped the rumor was true.
As much as they loved his films, there were too few of them!
Unlike his dramas, which could run an entire season, a movie was over in two hours.
Yunteng TV's ambiguous response—neither confirming nor denying—only stirred up excitement among his TV fanbase.
Meanwhile, executives from other TV networks, especially the Big Six...
Started getting very nervous.