CDJMM – Volume 4 – Chapter 18 Filming in the Interstellar Era (18)

Just as Qianhe expected, the popularity of Republic-Era Literary Giants Chronicles was rising higher and higher.

The personal fame of “Old Scenery of Times Past,” which had been building before, had slowly transformed into popularity for Republic-Era Literary Giants Chronicles.

On many forums, discussion threads about the show had begun to appear. Quite a few netizens believed that Republic-Era Literary Giants Chronicles was “this year’s unexpected dark horse,” “a rare ancient Earth culture-themed production,” and they “predicted it would become a phenomenon-level work.”

When the first episode of Republic-Era Literary Giants aired on Saturday, the number of Stardust posts Qianhe found related to the show was only 2,145. But by Wednesday, the number had soared to 15,480, showing an explosive upward trend.

By Thursday, a single hot search brought Republic-Era Literary Giants Chronicles into even more people’s view.

……

Of course Bai Lang also saw the hot search: “The Poorest Crew in History Begins Operations.”

Not only that—he also knew the show had reached No. 80 on Qijiang Video Network’s bestseller list.

He specifically asked around, and learned that Republic-Era Literary Giants Chronicles must have earned at least one million to reach that ranking.

One million meant nothing to Bai Lang. For the drama he was filming now, just his actor fee was ten million. Even casually taking on endorsements gave him six-digit advertisement revenue. So a measly one million wasn’t something he bothered to look at.

As for hot searches? Those were nothing either!

It was just buying marketing to get onto the list. Every time one of his new dramas aired, they bought a few hot searches. Republic-Era Literary Giants Chronicles getting only one hot search a few days after broadcast showed clearly how short they were on funds—too poor to even market properly. Bai Lang thought he should simply laugh at them.

But…

Why did it have to be Shi Jing?!

If not for all those official media accounts publicly supporting him a few days ago, Bai Lang wouldn’t have even known that after he left, that Shi Jing actually took over Republic-Era Literary Giants Chronicles and was now co-filming the drama with Li Jianye!

Only then did he also learn that Shi Jing was a signed author on Qijiang—basically a small internet celebrity—and somehow managed to stumble into ridiculous luck: Everyone’s Daily, Purple Pavilion, and Huaxia Youth Daily all praised his works. Because of that, Shi Jing even trended on hot search, indirectly giving the drama a wave of free publicity!

Otherwise, how could a crew with such garbage setup possibly make it onto Qijiang’s bestseller list?

And now the drama was on hot search again—this time because they were poor.

That shameless bastard Shi Jing actually posted on Stardust crying about being broke! He even bought the hot search “The Poorest Crew in History Begins Operations”!

Normally, shouldn’t a crew with no money desperately try to hide it? Why brag about it? What’s there to show off? Didn’t he feel embarrassed?

What enraged Bai Lang even more was that netizens didn’t think it was embarrassing at all. Instead of mocking, they were either laughing or sympathizing, saying the crew was truly suffering. Some rich netizens even asked the crew to post an account number so they could send money to support them.

Bai Lang finally understood how despicable and shameless Shi Jing was! To chase clout by selling misery—no shame, no bottom line. Absolutely filthy and disgusting!

Heh. If they were really so poor, where did the money for hot search come from? Obviously it was just a trick to fool netizens for sympathy.

What good work could such a shameless person create?

Bai Lang closed his eyes. Those comments he saw on Stardust echoed again in his mind: “Masterpiece,” “Dark horse,” “Low-budget miracle…”

He shouldn’t have cared about those comments—who knew if they were just bots?

But Republic-Era Literary Giants Chronicles had already become a thorn lodged in his heart, impossible to ignore.

In Bai Lang’s view, the director was trash, the actors were nobodies with zero fame, Li Jianye’s script was barely third-rate, and promotion was weak—this kind of show was destined to flop. He had already prepared to laugh at their failure.

But… why were there no bad reviews online?!

After hesitating for a long time, Bai Lang secretly pulled up the drama on his optical computer and clicked on Episode 1.

……

Two episodes added together were only two hours.

But Bai Lang had never felt any two hours so cold and unbearable.

He wanted to turn off the device, wanted to smash the terminal on the ground, but he forced himself to finish the entire two episodes—didn’t even fast-forward.

When the screen went black and nothing more appeared, Bai Lang sat frozen, expression stiff, as if a heavy stone pressed into his stomach. He felt sick.

After a long time, Bai Lang finally snapped out of it. He hurled the terminal to the floor, stood up, roared, and flipped the table.

When Sister Sun entered the room, she saw chaos everywhere, and Bai Lang pacing like a trapped animal.

She thought for a moment and understood: “The Stardust hot search?”

Bai Lang didn’t speak. His eyes were red as he kicked an ashtray, shattering it against the wall.

Sister Sun calmly tried to soothe him: “It’s just a hot search. What’s the big deal? You’ve been on plenty of hot searches yourself. You’re filming a new drama now—let me buy one or two hot searches for you to boost heat. We’ll crush their little hot search with ours.”

Bai Lang clenched his fists and, still facing away, breathed heavily.

She continued, “Ah Lang, don’t be angry. That tiny broke crew can only pull small tricks. They can’t stir up any real waves. You have a bright future—don’t stoop to their level.”

After a few seconds of silence, Bai Lang finally asked, struggling to stay calm, “Sister Sun… have you watched their drama?”

Sister Sun blinked and shook her head—then remembered he couldn’t see, so she hurried to add, “No, I’ve been busy. No time to watch something like that.”

Bai Lang turned toward her, eyes unfocused, expression completely lost. “I just watched it.”

His tone made Sister Sun’s heart drop. She forced a laugh: “Was it awful? Hahaha, well of course—people say they hired actors who’ve been irrelevant for more than ten years just because they were cheap. How could a combination like that make anything good?”

Bai Lang lowered his head. His face was pale. He whispered, “It was really good.”

Her laughter froze: “What?”

“I said it was REALLY GOOD!”

Bai Lang suddenly exploded, smashing everything he could reach, roaring like a storm, “Why the hell is it good?! Weren’t they supposed to be washed-up nobodies?! And the script! Damn it, they changed the script! Li Jianye kicked ME out because he refused to change the script, so why did he change it now?! Why?! Why them?!”

Sister Sun stared at him, stunned, and only then realized—

Bai Lang wasn’t just angry.

He was… regretting it.

He regretted missing Republic-Era Literary Giants Chronicles.

……

Le Jing, of course, had no idea how furious Bai Lang was. He was busy checking comments on Stardust.

Although he had spent most of the money they just made, it was worth it—the hot search paid off.

Netizens were extremely curious about their crew now. Many melon-eaters had followed the clues to Qijiang Video to see just how poor the crew really was.

And surprisingly, almost no one had a negative reaction. People thought the marketing was silly and hilarious, and they marveled at the crew’s poverty.

Le Jing also noticed that some rich netizens even wanted to donate money to support their filming.

After discussing with the crew, Le Jing simply put Republic-Era Literary Giants Chronicles on a crowdfunding website, set a goal of five million, and posted the link on Stardust, preparing to turn it into a gimmick: “crowdfunded filming.”

【Old Scenery of Times Past: Dear friends, are you curious about how dramas are made? Curious how directors and actors film scenes? We had no fate to meet—but now, all it takes is your money. Donate 1 starcoin to become one of our folk producers! Every week, we will randomly select 20 folk producers to visit our set for a tour and interact closely with the director and actors!

PS: Netizens donating over 100 starcoins will be listed in the drama’s ending credits and may receive exquisite merch! Thank you for your support～ (link)】

Comments poured in quickly:

【Lu Kecheng: Wait, people can do that??】

【A Guai: FOLK PRODUCER!!! Count me in!!】

【I’m 1 Million Short of Success: Holy crap holy crap!! Director Shi you’re insane!】

【I Want a Sweet Cookie Today: Omg! I’m donating! I want Bai Shaoyao’s autograph!】

【Xiao Ming My Statements Are Final: Screaming like a groundhog!! Now I can put on my resume: ‘Former producer of Republic-Era Literary Giants Chronicles.’ Wow that sounds so impressive! People might think I’m a rich lady lololol!】

Le Jing smiled with satisfaction.

It seemed the audience liked the idea.

After all, spending just 1 starcoin to participate in drama production—with chances to interact with cast and crew—was very tempting for most people. And donating 100 starcoins was like the cost of a meal for many; not expensive.

He already planned how to distribute funds once the campaign succeeded. Because the crew had been too poor, many actors had only taken symbolic pay. Sister Zhang, Zhang Ting, and others hadn’t taken a single coin. Now that money was coming in, he couldn’t let them suffer anymore.

While he was planning, his terminal lit up. A call from Director An Yun.

After brief greetings, An Yun finally stated his purpose:

“I watched your earlier film. Very good. Even though it’s just an AI film, its theme and message are excellent. Interested in submitting it for awards?”

“Awards?”

“The Xingkong Awards in October. I was invited as a judge. As a judge, I can recommend films. I want to recommend yours.”

Le Jing froze slightly.

Of course he knew the Xingkong Awards—they held significant weight in Huaguo. They were equivalent to the Golden Rooster Awards of the 21st century!