CDJMM – Volume 4 -Chapter 46 Filming in the Interstellar Era (46)

As a program planner for the CCTV Documentary Channel, Song Minghan was always busy.

But recently, he was especially busy.

Because the two projects he was responsible for had exploded in popularity.

“Ordinary People in Ancient Earth’s History”—after being rebroadcast by CCTV—caused a sensation. Its peak viewership rating even reached an astonishing 2.8%—a number normally only attainable by top idol dramas.

“The Mystery of Empress Wu Zetian”, originally positioned as nothing more than a traditional historical educational documentary, also saw its ratings soar all the way up, creating a ratings miracle normally reserved for idol dramas. It kept being rebroadcast, and its viewership increased with each round. This was largely thanks to the blockbuster success of the film “The Empress’ Imperial Hound,” which drew many audience members to notice “The Mystery of Empress Wu Zetian,” and thus boosted the numbers.

Because of the overwhelming audience response, “Ordinary People” and “The Mystery of Empress Wu Zetian” had already been rebroadcast four or five times, and online downloads had surpassed six digits!

At a meeting a few days ago, the station head even specifically named and praised him, applauding his keen eye—and promised him a raise!

During that meeting, the station head also announced plans to promote “Ordinary People in Ancient Earth’s History” and “The Mystery of Empress Wu Zetian” as a cultural calling card of China, for external publicity and display. In other words—“The Mystery of Empress Wu Zetian” was heading overseas!

And that was why Song Minghan had been running around nonstop these days. He was busy re-editing “Ordinary People” and “The Mystery of Empress Wu Zetian.”

After all, foreign viewers had a large cultural gap compared to domestic audiences. Many basic “common cultural knowledge” at home were completely incomprehensible to foreigners, so they had to be explained in simpler, clearer language.

The narration also needed to be translated into multiple languages and paired with bilingual subtitles.

There was far too much work. Song Minghan was spinning like a top day after day, barely finding time to eat or drink. And in this critical moment, that old dog Liu Yangxu was still pestering him!

“I’m telling you—why do you, someone from the Science & Education Channel, keep wandering over to our team? I’m busy right now, I don’t have time for you!”

Thick-skinned as ever, Liu Yangxu wasn’t offended by the scolding. He shamelessly leaned in. “Once you’re done, can you help me call Director Shi and ask him out? I’ll treat him to a meal.”

Song Minghan shot him a glare. “You’re the one treating him, not me. If you want to call, you call. I’m busy.”

Liu Yangxu gave a fawning smile. “But I don’t have enough face—he won’t come if I ask! You and Director Shi go way back. If you ask, he’ll definitely say yes.”

Song Minghan became curious. “What scheme are you cooking up?” Then he added, “Director Shi is preparing a new film right now—he really is busy.”

Liu Yangxu sighed, his plump white face wrinkling like a bitter melon. “Isn’t it all because of ‘Ordinary People’ Season 2! Season 1 aired on your channel, and Director Shi said there’d be a second season, which would be broadcast on our Science & Education Channel. But it’s already April, and there’s not even a shadow of Season 2.”

He grabbed his hair and complained, “The director hounds me three times a day. I really have no other choice!”

Song Minghan understood instantly. Seeing Liu Yangxu’s miserable expression, he actually felt a rare moment of sympathy.

With “Ordinary People”’s ratings this high, it was no wonder the Science & Education Channel was jealous.

But sympathy was one thing—he really couldn’t help.

He had grown up in a government compound, so naturally, he heard things early.

Shi Jing’s status was completely different now. The film he was preparing might very well be the National Day Tribute Film…

After thinking for a bit, and worried that his friend might get desperate and start causing trouble, he lowered his voice and subtly pointed upward with his finger. “Director Shi is filming something for them right now. He probably has no time. Just wait until after October. Maybe he’ll be free then.”

They were both old hands in the industry. The moment Liu Yangxu saw that gesture, he instantly understood. His expression slowly calmed. He rubbed his face and sighed. “Got it.”

He patted Song Minghan gratefully. “Thanks. I’ll treat you to dinner another day.” If not for Song Minghan’s warning, he’d be running around blindly like a headless fly—might even get dragged off for questioning.

Turning away, he remembered the director’s constant nagging, but he no longer felt stressed.

Because now—he had found the perfect excuse!

And the director couldn’t utter a single complaint about this excuse.

The country needed the man. As a Party member, of course he had to obey orders and follow instructions, hehe.

…

May in the capital was the best season of the year. Gentle spring sunshine, soft breezes—without winter’s biting chill or summer’s scorching heat. Not too cold, not too hot, the most comfortable weather possible.

Xie Xun lounged lazily on the sofa, hanging out with friends.

His friends were all involved in the film industry, with wide networks and access to various rumors—some true, some questionable. He simply listened casually, treating it like story time.

“Hey, I’ve got a friend working at CCTV. He says the country has taken an interest in ‘The Empress’ Imperial Hound’ and is preparing to promote the film overseas.”

“Sigh, it’s a pity it didn’t win the Ark Award. Overseas audiences are so superstitious about the Ark Award.”

Xie Xun had known this news for a long time. As a supporter of Shi Jing, he had been especially indignant back when The Empress’s Imperial Dog came away empty-handed. He had even written several reviews criticizing the Ark Award to show support for the film.

Now that the country was vigorously promoting it, he felt that something like the Ark Award didn’t seem all that important anymore.

“Speaking of which, what’s Director Shi been up to lately? On vacation?”

“I heard he seems to be preparing a new movie?”

“What movie?”

“How would I know?”

“Hey, did you guys hear? Supposedly some paparazzo went out to tail someone and somehow got lost near a military base. He got arrested by national security as a spy.”

“For real? That sounds like an internet joke.”

“No idea, haha. I just heard it from a reporter friend. Who knows if it’s true.”

“Definitely fake. No matter how lost you get, you wouldn’t end up at a military base. What paparazzo would be that dumb, hahaha.”

The group laughed and the room instantly filled with a silly, cheerful atmosphere.

Xie Xun was laughing too, but suddenly noticed that his friend Old Chen was sitting silently, smoking with a serious expression. He smiled and asked, “Old Chen, what’s wrong? Something on your mind?”

Old Chen took a deep breath, blew out a smoke ring, extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray, and rasped, “It’s probably true. The higher-ups already issued a statement expressing strong condemnation of paparazzi tailing actors.”

He inhaled again and murmured, “I know that paparazzo. I remember he’s been trying to dig up dirt on Shi Jing lately.”

The cheerful living room instantly fell silent.

Then Old Chen’s voice drifted through the quiet, “Director Shi’s new film… I heard it’s a National Day tribute film.”

Xie Xun blinked slowly, almost able to hear the stiff creaking of his brain trying to process the information.

Old Chen’s words carried too much weight.

Xie Xun felt like he was hearing some wild fantasy.

But he also knew Old Chen wasn’t someone who spoke without basis.

Old Chen came from a red family, well-connected, and could always learn some things ordinary people never knew.

And Old Chen was the steady type—he wouldn’t say anything he wasn’t certain about. Since everyone here was an old friend, he probably mentioned it as a reminder.

Nobody knew how long the silence lasted until someone broke it with an awkward laugh, “Haha, thanks for the info, Brother Chen. I’ll definitely uphold discipline and never spread it.”

Everyone quickly reacted and promised Old Chen they’d keep the secret.

Old Chen shook his head and shrugged casually, “Even if you did talk, it’s fine. Sooner or later everyone will know. Once the National Day movie airs, this will just become an open secret.”

He put another cigarette in his mouth, not lighting it, speaking in a muffled tone: “What’s the Ark Award worth? Director Shi will become one of the country’s symbols from now on. With the nation protecting him, he couldn’t care less about awards.”

Xie Xun froze for a moment, and an image involuntarily surfaced in his mind:

At the Starry Sky Awards ceremony, the young man smiling as he lifted the trophy, gazing across the stage at the elderly senior.

That photo had been titled The Passing of Two Eras by their magazine. It had earned a lot of criticism back then.

People questioned whether someone as young as Shi Jing could really live up to Cao Desheng’s high praise.

Now the young man had proven with his actions—he could.

Some people simply cannot be hidden. Sooner or later, they shine. Just like a star—no matter if it falls into a gutter, someone will cherish it, pick it up, clean it off, and treat it like a treasure.

At this moment, Xie Xun suddenly had a strange feeling: Shi Jing, this 25-year-old young man, would someday grow into someone extraordinary.

What will Shi Jing’s new movie be about? What story will it tell?

Xie Xun was now genuinely excited.

…

This summer, after the college entrance exam, Luo Bao felt completely empty inside.

Ever since experiencing Shi Jing’s works, he felt that everything else paled in comparison—nothing felt satisfying anymore.

He had already rewatched all of Shi Jing’s films multiple times and was now eagerly waiting for the next one.

But ever since the Ark Award ceremony, Shi Jing had vanished from the world.

Qijiang Video had stopped updating ages ago, Little People season two was nowhere in sight.

His Weibo had also stopped updating.

Previously, paparazzi still occasionally caught glimpses of him, but in the past few months, not a single report. It was as if the entire news world suddenly forgot Shi Jing ever existed.

Luo Bao couldn’t help but complain about how useless the paparazzi were. So what if he didn’t win the Ark Award? Didn’t The Empress’s Imperial Dog make ten billion at the box office? That puts it in the top 50 highest-grossing films in global history!

Where on earth had Shi Jing gone?

Could it be that failing to win the Ark Award hit him so hard he decided to quit the film industry?

No, no, no—impossible. He must just be taking a vacation!

With all sorts of chaotic thoughts swirling in his head, Luo Bao endured the empty days until late August, with September and the new school year approaching.

He was about to become a college student.

But he couldn’t feel happy at all.

No news from Shi Jing. No new works. Very not-happy.

August 30th.

Luo Bao went to check Shi Jing’s Weibo as usual. He refreshed out of habit—and was stunned to see a new post!

[Old Times Scenery]: New film — The Dawns Here Are Quiet, adapted from Soviet history, an elegy to a bygone era. National Day release, stay tuned~

Luo Bao: HOLY SHT HOLY SHT HOLY SH*T!!

Old Times Scenery has resurrected!!

He finally had a new film! A new film!!!

He wanted to run three laps around the building naked!

National Day… still more than a month away QWQ

Hmm… he should go look up Soviet history first. Otherwise he won’t understand the movie when it comes out.