Chapter 50: If the Remuneration Remains, My Loyalty Will Never Falter (Please Follow)

After finishing his call with the production team at Penguin Platform, Zhang Huaimo finally slumped onto the sofa and scrolled through WeChat to find Su Mu’s profile picture.

He opened up their chat; the conversation from yesterday was still there.

[Su Mu: Director Zhang, you’re the guiding light of my life. There’s something that’s been troubling me, so I wanted to get your advice.

I wrote a few scripts for fun when I had some free time and asked someone to send them to Oil Depot and Kiwi Fruit. Unexpectedly, they both responded. They want to buy out all three scripts, and they’re even offering me sixty million as an actor.

But you know me—my loyalty runs deep! I can’t just abandon your project.

However, the company disagrees, and because of the contract, I really don’t have much say. If the fee is less than sixty million, I probably can’t take it.

Never mind, I shouldn’t be telling you this. Sigh, I’ll figure something out myself.

Rest assured, even if it means breaching the contract, I’ll still do your show.

A man like me values loyalty and friendship above all!

Oh, by the way, would you like to take a look at the three scripts?]

[File1.pdf]

[File2.pdf]

[File3.pdf]

Zhang Huaimo: "..."

Looking at the messages Su Mu had sent yesterday, to be honest, Zhang Huaimo could barely suppress his urge to expose Su Mu’s act right away.

Guiding light? What a joke—at best, he was just a turn signal.

Writing three scripts for fun... Who does that for amusement?

And then to have companies fighting to buy them at sky-high prices? As if good scripts were as common as cabbages.

Zhang Huaimo wasn’t a fool; naturally, he could see through Su Mu’s little ploy.

In the past, he would’ve just replaced the actor.

Although Su Mu’s acting and potential did make him believe he could one day make it internationally, demanding such a leap in pay—ten million for the first project, and then sixty million for the second—was getting a bit carried away, wasn’t it?

Anyone would find this uncomfortable, even though Zhang Huaimo himself didn’t have to foot the bill.

But after reading Su Mu’s scripts, his mind changed completely.

Though his own "Nirvana in Fire" was strong, the opposition had "Joy of Life" to match it.

Even if they were equal, if the other side came out with "My Heroic Husband" next, how could they possibly respond?

Of course, there had always been scripts based on alternate histories, but they always seemed to be missing something. The plotlines were invariably about love, ending with someone sacrificing their world for happiness in another timeline. It seemed dramatic, but in reality, it was tedious and dull—too many clichéd stories like that.

But Su Mu’s scripts were different. The career-focused storyline in "My Heroic Husband" was truly intriguing—simple structure, tons of satisfying moments, fast-paced, and utterly addictive.

If any platform could film all three of these, they’d probably dominate at least half the historical romance market next year.

Could they afford to let Su Mu go? Absolutely not.

The competition between the major streaming platforms was like a card game—one side played a card, the other responded in kind. But now, a wild card was entering the fray. No one knew what cards Su Mu held. These three scripts might just be his low cards—what if he had something even bigger up his sleeve?

This made Zhang Huaimo think of the protagonist in his own "Nirvana in Fire" script, Mei Changsu, a genius among men. It was beginning to feel like—whoever won Su Mu would win the world.

So who else could play the lead but him?

This one, under no circumstances, could go to Oil Depot or Kiwi Fruit—at least not next year.

Lost in thought, Zhang Huaimo dialed Su Mu on WeChat.

Su Mu’s voice quickly came through. “Hello, Director Zhang.”

“Su Mu, what are you up to?”

“Oh, nothing much—just writing scripts.”

Zhang Huaimo’s mouth twitched. He was definitely doing this on purpose.

“Director Zhang, did you need something?” Su Mu asked.

Zhang Huaimo replied, laughing, “Ah, yes, Su Mu, I’ve given some thought to what you said on WeChat yesterday.

I know you’re a man of deep loyalty. As your senior, I can’t just stand by while you’re in a bind, so I decided to help you out.

Didn’t you say before that you wanted a sixty-million fee? I’ve spoken to the producers myself, and they agree to increase the investment. So I’m willing to sign you at that rate.”

“Really?”

On the other end, Su Mu feigned utter surprise, his tone brimming with admiration and gratitude.

“My goodness! Director Zhang, you’re incredible. But making the producers invest more for my sake—I really feel bad.

Director, thank you so much! You know, the fee doesn’t matter to me. I just really want to work on your project.”

[Expression Proficiency +1]

[Emotion Proficiency +1]

[Skill Points +0.01...]

Acting—pure acting.

Go on, keep acting for me...

Zhang Huaimo almost burst out laughing at Su Mu’s “sincerity.”

“Haha, you rascal... All right, sixty million it is. Hurry and join the crew. Hengdian is waiting for you. Oh, and bring those three scripts with you.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a couple of days.”

...

[Notice: Blind Box Task Completed!]

[Task 1: After the hit broadcast of "Frenzy," your acting skills will be widely recognized, so for your next project, you must increase your asking price and secure no less than sixty million in fees. (Completed)

Task Rewards:

[Proficiency +1000] (any skill)

[Skill Points +10.0]]

After hanging up, Su Mu saw a notification pop up on his Actor Interface.

The blind box task he had drawn earlier was now complete.

The rewards were generous: 10.0 skill points and 1000 proficiency.

[Expression Control Proficiency Lv4: 420/10000 (Hall of Mastery)]

[...]

Looking at the stats, Su Mu decided to stick with his original plan: max out one proficiency at a time.

Expression control was currently the fastest to improve, now at level four. Once he was back on set, he’d be able to grind even more. It shouldn’t be long before he reached level five.

Su Mu knew that in a scene, the camera’s capture of micro-expressions was the real test of an actor’s ability to move an audience.

Long shots were about the big picture and overall atmosphere, but close-ups required precise control—down to a hair’s breadth.

If you could truly master facial expression, you could play any role; you wouldn’t even need dialogue for the audience to understand your intent.

That was the power of “micro-expressions” in conveying meaning.

“One thousand proficiency points—add to expression control,” Su Mu said.

[Notice: Added.]

[Expression Control Proficiency Lv4: 1420/10000 (Hall of Mastery)]

With the sudden increase, Su Mu’s face tingled slightly, and he immediately sensed a new level of control.

Just then, his phone rang. It was Qian Jida.

Su Mu picked up. “President Qian, what’s up?”

“Have you checked the trending topics?”

Su Mu paused. “No, why?”