How could a musical genius possibly understand films?

The office door was pushed open as Zhang Yu walked inside.

Upon seeing him, Bi Deng’s demeanor subtly shifted, assuming a warm and affable appearance.

"Director Zhang, congratulations on your film *My Home* breaking the company’s box office record for recent years! Come, sit."

"Thank you, President Bi. This is the proposal for my next movie; please have a look." Instead of sitting down, Zhang Yu handed a document to Bi Deng.

Bi Deng took the papers, flipping through them casually with a hint of inner surprise. Zhang Yu had always been a slow-burn director, typically requiring lengthy preparation and research before launching a project.

"Oh? What genre are you planning to tackle this time?"

"A crime thriller," Zhang Yu replied, his tone carrying a trace of unperceived tension.

Huaxia Media had requested strict confidentiality for the filming. The terms stipulated that, barring absolute necessity, he must not proactively mention which company was funding the project.

The explanation given was that the company was just starting out and preferred to keep a low profile. At the time, Zhang Yu agreed without a second thought. As long as the money was right, anything was negotiable.

However, as a contracted director under Tenghai, company regulations mandated that shooting external resources required approval from upper management, and the project approval form inevitably had to specify the investing company.

"A crime thriller? That's a great genre with a massive market. I heard that Fengxing invested twenty billion into this genre this year. Shooting one right now is a great way to piggyback on the hype," Bi Deng nodded. His gaze didn't linger on the document for long; instead, it rested on Zhang Yu for quite a while.

It seemed that Feng Xinliu had proved to be quite an effective whetstone after all. Zhang Yu, that block of wood, had finally seen the light. This showed that recruiting him to work directly under the Boss was just around the corner.

"Regarding the investment this time..." Zhang Yu paused, seemingly hesitant.

"What about the investment?"

"This time around, I intend to partner with someone else for the funding." Zhang Yu took a deep breath before speaking the words.

Bi Deng’s brows furrowed slightly, but they quickly relaxed.

"A partnership? That's fine too. More friends mean more paths."

He feigned a generous demeanor, not bothering to ask who Zhang Yu was partnering with. In reality, he didn't care at all. To win over Zhang Yu—someone alienated by Qian Huanxi—he needed to display goodwill at the critical juncture.

"As for the partner..." Zhang Yu probed cautiously.

"No problem, I trust your judgment." Bi Deng waved a hand dismissively, cutting Zhang Yu off.

Zhang Yu had a peculiar stubbornness when it came to his films; for instance, to pursue perfection in *My Home*, he had practically emptied his own savings. Although the box office performance of *My Home* was currently impressive, the revenue split had yet to be distributed.

Under Qian Huanxi’s leadership, Tenghai kept a tight cap on investment limits for both television and film. It was completely understandable that Zhang Yu was seeking external assistance now.

Besides, as a director under Tenghai, regardless of who he made movies for, Tenghai would still be credited as a stakeholder. They couldn't possibly lose, and could even sit back and reap the rewards effortlessly.

Countless speculators sought to ride market trends, and there were even instances where people hastily established temporary companies just to cash in on the current wave. Therefore, the identity of the partner company was entirely irrelevant.

Unable to guess in a million years that Ji Fanxing would invest in a film, Bi Deng dropped his guard and directly signed his name on the document.

" *Infernal Affairs* ? That's a rather interesting title." Closing the folder, Bi Deng glanced at the heading.

"Thank you, Vice President Bi." Zhang Yu took back the document.

"Alright, off you go. I have other matters to attend to." Bi Deng waved his hand, signaling that Zhang Yu was dismissed.

Zhang Yu nodded and turned to leave the office.

The next day, in a café somewhere in the capital.

Ji Fanxing and Zhang Yu sat opposite each other.

"Ms. Ji, you must be joking?! We only have twenty-four hours for casting?!" Zhang Yu stared in disbelief at the young girl across the table.

"Yes, Director Zhang." Ji Fanxing nodded calmly. Her most important priority right now was the music exchange conference; she simply didn't have much time to spare.

"How could twenty-four hours possibly be enough?" Zhang Yu frowned deeply. "If Ms. Ji truly has no time, you can delegate the entire casting process to me."

"Hasty though it may be, I believe we can find the right actors." Ji Fanxing rejected Zhang Yu's proposal without hesitation.

There was no doubt about Zhang Yu's directing prowess, nor was there any question regarding the gold standard of the script for *Infernal Affairs*. As long as the casting was done right, this movie was virtually guaranteed success.

Since *Infernal Affairs* had successfully cleared Bi Deng's hurdle, it could now serve as a crucial piece in her grand plan. Therefore, she had to personally oversee the casting process.

"But..." Zhang Yu wanted to argue further, but Ji Fanxing cut him off.

"Director Zhang, I believe in Moyu's script."

Moyu was the screenwriter of *Infernal Affairs*—and also Ji Fanxing's secret pseudonym.

To avoid alerting the enemy prematurely, she had not revealed her true identity to Zhang Yu. However, this did not prevent her from recognizing Zhang Yu's deep appreciation for Moyu, which she intended to use to compel his compliance.

"Fine." Zhang Yu sighed helplessly. "By the way, when will Teacher Moyu arrive?"

After reading *Infernal Affairs*, he had experienced an epiphany: the decline of the Dragon Country's film industry wasn't due to a lack of good directors, but rather a shortage of fine screenwriters and quality works. He was burning with impatience to meet this talented writer.

"Teacher Moyu is currently in secluded creation and is not receiving visitors," Ji Fanxing said without changing expression.

"I see..." Zhang Yu looked somewhat disappointed.

"However, Teacher Moyu specified that the casting is my sole responsibility," Ji Fanxing added.

"Very well." Zhang Yu nodded. Though disappointed, he had no choice but to accept reality.

"Shall we begin, then?" With that, Ji Fanxing pulled a stack of documents from her bag. "These are the actor profiles I preliminarily shortlisted. I've already scheduled them for interviews today. Director Zhang can take a look first."

Zhang Yu took the documents and began to flip through them carefully. As he read, his brows furrowed tighter and tighter.

"Ms. Ji, are you certain these actors will work?" Zhang Yu looked up, his tone laden with skepticism.

"What is it? Is there a problem?" Ji Fanxing asked.

"Aren't all these actors just obscure newcomers?" Zhang Yu pointed at the photographs on the profiles.

"Precisely." Ji Fanxing nodded. A-list actors were simply too expensive, and since Huaxia Media was funding two movies in one go, they had to pinch pennies.

"Ms. Ji, you should know that besides the script and the director, actors are crucial to a film's success."

Zhang Yu looked at Ji Fanxing with unconcealed doubt. This young person, touted as a musical genius, was clearly meddling in things she didn't understand.

"Naturally. Rest assured, Director Zhang, this audition session is primarily for supporting roles. The two most important male leads will, of course, be handled with the utmost care." Facing his skepticism, Ji Fanxing remained entirely unfazed, laying out her arrangements methodically. "I have thoroughly investigated all these actors. While they may lack fame, their appearances closely fit the characters, and their acting skills meet the standard."

"I certainly hope so..."

Watching Ji Fanxing's absolute confidence, Zhang Yu felt a growing sense of gloom. Generally speaking, clients who claimed to understand everything were the most terrifying.

Originally, he had assumed Huaxia Media had everything neatly arranged, but it turned out only a little girl was managing the preparations. He suddenly regretted agreeing so readily; at the very least, he should have gathered a team of assistants before coming to these auditions.

It seemed he would have to rely entirely on himself this time.