Rebirth: A big star falls in love with me

Zhang Yu's face was ashen, and the mole under his left eye felt burning hot, as if it would pierce through his skin. When he arrived after receiving the call, the scene was already like this. According to the security guard on duty, between 11 p.m. last night and 6 a.m. this morning, someone pried open the back window of the editing room and climbed in, not only destroying the equipment but also deliberately turning on the water pipes.

"Did you call the police?" Zhang Yu's voice was unusually calm.

“I reported it. The police just left. They took photos and fingerprints.” Li Xiaoming stood at the door, his face even more grim than Zhang Yu’s. “But in a place like Hengdian, tens of thousands of people come and go every day. If the perpetrator came prepared, it’s very difficult to investigate.”

"Where's the surveillance?"

“The building where the editing room is located is an old building and there are no surveillance cameras installed.” Li Xiaoming smiled wryly. “Director Zhang, this is obviously aimed at us.”

Zhang Yu certainly knew. And he knew who it was—no one but Wang Zhongjun. At yesterday's press conference, he announced three project plans for his studio, and three investment companies immediately expressed interest, one of which was even willing to invest one million yuan as seed funding. This completely humiliated Wang Zhongjun.

But he didn't expect the other party to use such despicable means.

"What about backups?" Zhang Yu asked Lao Zhou. "Didn't you say you backed up the work samples every day?"

Old Zhou shook his head, his voice choked with emotion: "The backup... the backup tape is also in the water. I'm used to keeping the day's edited sample footage and the original material together for easy comparison..."

It's over. Three months of filming, over a hundred scenes, thousands of shots—all gone.

If filming is to be reshot, it will take at least two months and require an additional 800,000 yuan. "The Scholarly Family" was originally scheduled to complete post-production in May and be released in October. If filming is to be reshot, the release date will have to be postponed until at least next year's Spring Festival – assuming there is still funding.

Zhang Yu closed his eyes. He could feel the starlight imprints within his body fluctuating—Chen Chen's worries, Yang Mi's anxiety, and everyone's unease.

"Director Zhang, what do we do now?" Li Xiaoming's voice was filled with despair. "If the investors find out all the footage is destroyed, they'll definitely withdraw their funding. This has happened so early in the studio..."

"First, keep the news under wraps." Zhang Yu opened his eyes, his gaze chillingly calm. "Everyone who knows about this, sign a confidentiality agreement. Tell the public that the editing room equipment is malfunctioning and under repair, so work is suspended for a week."

What about a week later?

“I will give everyone an explanation in a week.” Zhang Yu turned and walked out of the editing room. “President Li, please inform all partners that there will be an emergency meeting at the studio at 2 PM this afternoon.”

---

Ten o'clock in the morning.

Chen Chen was the first to know the news. She was supposed to have a set of promotional photos taken this morning, but as soon as she arrived at the studio, she received a call from Huang Ying saying that something had happened in the editing room.

When she arrived at Zhang Yu's room, he was standing by the window smoking. The room was filled with smoke, and the ashtray was overflowing with cigarette butts.

"Zhang Yu." Chen Chen pushed open the door, coughing as he was choked by the smell of smoke.

Zhang Yu turned around, saw it was her, and stubbed out his cigarette: "Why are you here?"

"With something this serious happening, how could I not come?" Chen Chen walked to the window and opened it to let in some fresh air. "How bad is the situation?"

“It’s all destroyed.” Zhang Yu didn’t hide anything. “All twelve original film reels were soaked in water. The backups were also there, none of them were spared.”

Chen Chen's face paled. She was an actress and knew what this meant—three months of hard work, everyone's efforts, could all go down the drain.

"How much would a reshoot cost?" she asked practically.

"At least 800,000 yuan. It will take two months," Zhang Yu said. "Moreover, some sets have already been dismantled and need to be rebuilt. Some actors' schedules may not be available."

"Where's the funding?"

“Li Bing invested 500,000, plus the 1 million he promised to invest at yesterday’s press conference, totaling 1.5 million. That should have been enough, but now…” Zhang Yu smiled bitterly, “If we have to reshoot, this money might only be enough for half of the shoot.”

Chen Chen remained silent for a few minutes. Then she walked to her desk, opened a drawer, took out a bankbook, and placed it in front of Zhang Yu.

“This is my savings, 120,000,” she said. “The password is my birthday. You can take it and use it.”

Zhang Yu was stunned: "Chen Chen, this is you..."

“This is what I saved up over three years of work; it was originally intended as a down payment for a house in Beijing,” Chen Chen interrupted him. “But the studio needs it more now. Zhang Yu, this isn’t a loan to you; it’s an investment in the studio. I want shares.”

She spoke calmly, in the tone of a business negotiation. But Zhang Yu knew what 120,000 yuan meant to her—she came from an ordinary family, both her parents were teachers, and this money was what she had saved up from acting one film after another.

"I can't accept it." Zhang Yu pushed the passbook back.

“You must accept it.” Chen Chen pressed his hand down. “Zhang Yu, the studio doesn’t belong to you alone, it belongs to all of us. Now that we’re facing difficulties, everyone should contribute. I’ve already contacted Yang Mi and Bai Bing, and they’re willing to contribute their salaries first. We’ve calculated that if everyone contributes a portion of their salaries, we can raise around 500,000 yuan.”

Zhang Yu looked at her hands. Her hands were cold, but she was holding them tightly.

“Chen Chen,” he said softly, “If you do this… I will feel even more guilty.”

“Then don’t feel guilty.” Chen Chen released his hand and turned around. “Zhang Yu, I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing it for myself. I’ve invested money, so I’m a shareholder. The success or failure of the studio is directly related to my interests. So you have to succeed, you have to settle this matter.”

She spoke firmly, but her slightly trembling shoulders betrayed her.

Zhang Yu walked up behind her and, without hesitation, gently hugged her.

Chen Chen's body stiffened for a moment, but he did not push her away.

"Thank you," Zhang Yu whispered in her ear. "Chen Chen, I promise you, I will repay you tenfold or a hundredfold."

"I'm waiting." Chen Chen's voice was choked with emotion. "Zhang Yu, you'd better keep your word."

The hug lasted only a few seconds. Chen Chen pulled away, wiping her eyes: "What are your plans for the afternoon meeting?"

“Yes.” Zhang Yu’s eyes sharpened. “Wang Zhongjun wants to bring us down with such despicable means, then let’s show him—he can only destroy a bunch of film. What he can’t destroy is people’s hearts.”

---

2 p.m.

The meeting venue was changed to a small conference room at the Hengdian International Trade Hotel. Everyone was there—Chen Chen, Yang Mi, Bai Bing, Gao Yuanyuan, Zhao Liying, Liu Shishi, Zhang Tianai, Wang Likun, Liu Yan, Li Bing, as well as Li Xiaoming and several core staff members.

The atmosphere was oppressive. Everyone knew what had happened, and anxiety and unease were written all over their faces.

When Zhang Yu walked into the conference room, everyone looked at him. He was wearing a dark gray suit and a white shirt, without a tie, and the mole under his left eye was clearly visible under the light. His expression was calm, so calm that it didn't seem like someone who had just suffered a major blow.

"Everyone knows the situation," Zhang Yu said bluntly. "All the footage from 'The Scholarly Family' has been destroyed. To reshoot, we need 800,000 yuan and two months. Right now, the studio doesn't have enough money or time."