Smack!
A crisp sound rang out.
A red handprint appeared on Kiyota Sanji's face.
His handsome face was instantly swollen.
Facing his uncle Akasaka Yoshitoki's stern and intimidating expression, Kiyota didn't even dare to show the slightest anger.
"This slap is to remind you—until you grow in ability, don't act so full of yourself. The television industry isn't as simple as you think."
"If you hadn't forcibly rewritten the script and caused 'Pure Breeze''s reputation to collapse, then even if it didn't manage to become the top online drama this quarter, I still had ways to push 'An Ancient Love Song'—that script the Ogata Aya group was backing—back into the online streaming market."
"Without a competitor, 'Night Sakura' would've received the 27 million B-tier investment."
Akasaka's tone was cold.
"And as for that screenwriter Su Yan, you've always been dissatisfied with—so long as he's not given a chance, no matter how talented he is, he won't be able to make waves."
"Once the hype around 'Rurouni Kenshin' fades in a few months, there's no way his script would ever get greenlit at the production meeting for TV broadcast."
Kiyota Sanji's gaze trembled. He didn't dare say a word.
He might not like what he heard—but he couldn't refute it.
"Now look at the result. 'Night Sakura', which was supposed to be a B-tier drama, has been downgraded to a C-tier. 'An Ancient Love Song' received the investment you lost and got the chance to air on television."
"Remember this—if that newcomer Su Yan ever makes a name for himself in this industry, the one who helped him rise... is you. You gave him this opening."
Akasaka's words were like ice.
Kiyota Sanji left his uncle's home in a daze.
His face still burned with pain.
But of all the anger in his heart, only 10% was directed at his uncle Akasaka Yoshitoki.
The remaining 90% was aimed at Su Yan.
Akasaka hadn't called him over just to slap him.
He had also revealed many behind-the-scenes details.
The plan for 'Night Sakura' had actually been in motion before 'Pure Breeze'.
Once funding was secured, Akasaka intended to use his powerful connections to form a luxurious but cost-effective production team.
Akasaka's original goal had been to make 'Night Sakura' one of the Top 5 most-watched dramas of the fall season.
But now, with over 10 million in funding cut, there was no choice but to scale back the creative team.
The planned cast—nearly A-list popular actors—would now have to be replaced by second-tier performers.
Some well-known actors might still agree to appear out of respect for Akasaka Yoshitoki, even at a reduced rate, but there were limits. You couldn't insult them by offering fees far below market value.
And with the production budget so tight, there wasn't much Akasaka could do.
Even the director and all levels of crew members would have to be downgraded in some way.
Still, thanks to the script he had acquired from a now-retired legendary writer—Jia Yisheng—and with his own connections, Akasaka was confident.
With $15 million in funding, he could still assemble a strong enough crew for 'Night Sakura'.
His current expectations for the show: Top 10 in ratings among all dramas broadcast by the three major networks next quarter.
As for Kiyota Sanji, he hoped that after three or four productions, he would grow into a talented screenwriter—like last year's breakout stars, Zuo Yuhan from Zhongxia TV and Wen Yutong from Hudu TV.
Those two had each created a nationwide sensation with a single hit show.
Their dramas soared in popularity, and so did they—two beautiful, young female screenwriters with massive followings that lasted even a year later.
It was deeply embarrassing for Sakura TV.
The rival networks were thriving with genius newcomers, while they had none.
The board of directors was unhappy, and that pressure was passed down.
That was why, last quarter, Akasaka had been able to push for over 10 million in investment to create 'Pure Breeze' as an online drama.
Backing young talent meant bending the rules a bit—and that was fine.
And this quarter, both 'An Ancient Love Song' and 'Night Sakura' had been greenlit…
Because even Department Head Yoshizaki Shigeyoshi had seen Su Yan's potential.
Letting 'An Ancient Love Song' go forward was a test—to see how he handled a full-length series.
If Su Yan's new drama could perform well despite airing in the dead-of-night Sunday slot, the upper management might seriously consider backing him in the future.
After all, Su Yan was young—and good-looking.
The network likely only had the capacity to push one genius newcomer. Who it was didn't matter as much.
So this fast-track path to success… could only go to one of them—Su Yan or Kiyota Sanji.
At this stage, Kiyota still had a huge advantage—with Akasaka's support.
Standing on the street, Kiyota clenched his fists, his eyes full of resentment and defiance.
"Genius? Please. There's no way your newbie script is better than 'Night Sakura', written by the retired gold-medal screenwriter Jia Yisheng."
"Is your production team stronger than the one my uncle assembled for 'Night Sakura'? Not a chance. And as for the broadcast schedule—"
He sneered.
"You think Sunday at midnight can beat Saturday at 10 PM?"
Hah.
The advantage is mine.
Once a drama project is greenlit at Sakura TV, the crew formation process is extremely fast.
In the Xia Nation, big-budget TV projects were mostly funded by major networks, which kept a massive pool of production personnel on standby.
As a producer, Shinozaki Ikumi could directly call on whomever she needed.
Plus, she had inherited many of her retired mother's industry connections.
She knew exactly which staff were lazy slackers, and which ones were actually talented.
And if the station lacked certain specialists, there were still plenty of acting agencies, film companies, and equipment providers that partnered with Sakura TV.
Of course, hiring external crews or renting equipment could be expensive—how expensive depended on the producer's personal connections and market insight.
As for filming locations, most of the major TV production bases outside Hudu had been built by the three major networks, so getting approval to use them was fast and easy.
For two straight days, Shinozaki Ikumi was up at 5 or 6 AM and didn't return home until 11 or midnight. She spent every hour negotiating and coordinating with various teams.
Cinematographers, set designers, lighting techs, sound engineers, makeup artists, costume designers, editors, VFX artists, script supervisors, logistics staff…
Even with three assistants helping her, it was an enormous undertaking.
But the more she worked, the more energized she felt.
This was her first time managing a drama with $15 million in funding.
And as a producer in her twenties, she had real decision-making power over that budget. She received flattery and attention from people in every department of the film industry.
Her word alone could allow talented professionals to rise and make a name for themselves.
It felt… pretty amazing.
Of course, she wasn't about to get arrogant.
She knew this power was temporary. If 'An Ancient Love Song' didn't exceed expectations, Akasaka Yoshitoki would quickly see her kicked out.
She wasn't the real core of the project. Su Yan, the screenwriter, was.
When 'Rurouni Kenshin' had only four episodes, and Su Yan wrote the whole script himself, she hadn't said a word.
But 'An Ancient Love Song'…
Even though Su Yan said the later parts were still being outlined, this was clearly a 13–14 episode drama at minimum.
In Shinozaki Ikumi's view, he should at least bring on a few assistant writers to help with the workload.
Most TV series are written by a team. The lead writer usually outlines the story and writes the main episodes, while the side episodes are handled by the other writers based on the lead's instructions.
After all, no one's a superhuman writing machine. If you hit writer's block, what then? The broadcast schedule won't stop just because you're stuck.
But Su Yan firmly rejected the suggestion.
He even said bluntly that having others involved would slow him down, not help.
"If I ever miss a single script deadline, then I'll accept being replaced as lead writer—no complaints from me."
