Chinese entertainment: What's wrong with actresses wanting to improve?

Chapter 17 Changes in Mindset

It was nearly midnight when Fu Yibai returned to his hotel.

The film crew's hotel was located near the East Fourth Ring Road in Beijing. It wasn't exactly a luxury hotel, but it was quiet, clean, and close to the filming location.

He swiped his card to enter, placed his briefcase and laptop on the desk, and the first thing he did was go into the bathroom.

The warm water washed away the sticky sweat and the dust from the film set, and also temporarily relieved the tension in my mind.

Wrapped in a bathrobe, with his hair still dripping wet, Fu Yibai opened his laptop and clicked on the email sent by Zhao Qi.

Preliminary Screening Report for Cinema Projects.

The document contains information on three cinemas located in different cities and with different conditions.

The first one is in Chaoyang District, Beijing. It is a medium-sized cinema that has been open for less than three years, with relatively new equipment, but its customer traffic has always been lukewarm. The owner is in a hurry to sell it due to cash flow problems.

The second cinema is located in Shanghai, in Pudong New Area. The cinema itself has old facilities, but its location is excellent, with a mature surrounding community and great potential for renovation.

The third is a cinema in Hangzhou, which is operating reasonably well but has a complex equity structure and internal disputes. Acquiring it would be difficult, but if things can be straightened out, the returns would be considerable.

Fu Yibai watched intently, his fingers unconsciously sliding across the touchpad, his brain rapidly calculating acquisition costs, renovation investment, expected foot traffic, and return on investment.

The city lights outside the window cast flickering shadows on his focused profile through the gaps in the slightly open curtains.

Just as he finished sorting through the data for the Shanghai cinema and was about to open the detailed attachments for the Hangzhou project, the doorbell rang.

The crisp "ding-dong" sound was particularly clear in the quiet suite.

Fu Yibai frowned slightly and glanced at the time in the lower right corner of the computer screen; it was almost eleven o'clock.

At this time, the film crew usually wouldn't bother us, and the hotel service shouldn't be so presumptuous.

He closed his notebook, got up, walked to the door, and looked out through the peephole.

The hallway outside was softly lit, and standing there was Fan Binbin.

She changed her clothes. It wasn't the simple costume she wore during the daytime filming, nor the slip dress she wore at the private restaurant that night. Instead, she wore a dusty pink silk robe with a long cardigan in the same color. Her long hair was loosely tied back, and her face was clean and bare. She was also carrying a paper bag with the logo of a well-known Hong Kong-style tea restaurant printed on it.

Fu Yibai was somewhat surprised, but hesitated for only a second before opening the door.

"Binbin? Something wrong so late?"

His voice was slightly hoarse from finishing work. His bathrobe was loosely tied at the waist, and the collar was slightly open, revealing a bit of his collarbone and the muscle lines of his chest.

At this moment, Fu Yibai had lost some of the director's authority he displayed during the day and gained more of a relaxed, homely demeanor.

Fan Binbin seemed surprised to see him open the door like this. His gaze quickly swept over Fan Binbin's open collar and chest muscles, and his cheeks flushed slightly. But he quickly put on a natural smile and shook the paper bag in his hand.

"Director Fu, you're still not resting? I noticed you didn't eat much on set last night, so I had my assistant buy some light late-night snacks—shrimp dumplings and congee with preserved egg and lean pork. I thought you might be hungry, so I brought them over on the way."

Fu Yibai looked at the unspoken glint in her eyes and her outfit, which was clearly carefully prepared, appearing both casual and ambiguous, and understood what was going on.

After his encounter with Zeng Li that night in Berlin, he understood all too well the meaning behind such late-night visits.

I never expected Fan Binbin to be so proactive, coming to me on the very first day of filming.

He stepped aside. "Come in."

His tone was calm, revealing neither joy nor anger.

Fan Binbin nimbly slipped into the room, bringing with her a faint, post-shower floral scent.

She placed the paper bag on the small round table in the living room and casually glanced around the room—a standard suite, slightly messy, with documents and a laptop spread out on the desk, the screen still lit.

"Director Fu is still busy with work? That must be tough."

"Please have a seat. I'm looking at something right now, I'll be done soon."

He didn't immediately touch the late-night snack, nor did he continue the slightly ambiguous interaction from before. Instead, he sat back down at his computer and reopened the movie theater report.

Fan Binbin was stunned for a moment, seemingly not expecting this reaction.

The scene she imagined was perhaps both beautiful and direct.

But seeing Fu Yibai's profile as he instantly immersed himself in his work, his focused and unyielding aura made the words she had prepared stuck in her throat.

She sat down on the sofa next to him as instructed, neither urging him nor leaving, but simply observing him quietly with curiosity.

Fu Yibai quickly resumed his analysis of the cinema in Hangzhou.

He pulled up a detailed map of the area, population data, and business competition analysis. His fingers flew across the keyboard as he took notes, sometimes deep in thought, sometimes scribbling a few lines of numbers on the draft paper beside him.

The light from the screen shone on his face, outlining his clear features.

His brow furrowed slightly at times and relaxed at others, completely absorbed in his own world of thoughts, as if he were the only person in the room.

Fan Binbin was initially at a loss, and even showed a slight displeasure at being ignored.

But as time went by, her mindset quietly changed.

It's rare to see a man so focused in front of her, especially one who visits her late at night after she's dressed up so carefully.

She was curious about what Fu Yibai was looking at that moment, and why he was so focused.

Fan Binbin slowly stood up and tiptoed to the side of the desk, maintaining a distance that would not disturb him but would still allow him to see some of the contents.

"He wasn't looking at the script, or the storyboard, but rather... a theater acquisition report?"

Fan Binbin's gaze was involuntarily drawn to the charts on the computer screen and the draft paper filled with numbers and key points next to Fu Yibai.

When she saw these words, a slight thought crossed her mind.

"Acquiring cinemas? He's not just making movies, he's also building a cinema chain?"

This realization quickly replaced Fan Binbin's initial subtle emotions of being "neglected" with a deeper curiosity and a subtle shock.

She took a closer look at the young man in front of her.

He's a few years younger than me, yet he already holds the Berlin Silver Bear, has founded his own company, and is directing new films. And now, he's researching a real business acquisition late at night.

This cross-disciplinary vision and execution ability far exceeded her imagination of a "genius director".

Fu Yibai seemed to have finally come to an end. He saved the document, rubbed his slightly sore neck, and turned his head to find Fan Binbin standing behind him, quietly watching him with a complicated look in her eyes.

"Sorry, I got so engrossed in watching."

Fu Yibai softened his tone and turned off the computer.

"Thank you for the late-night snack."

"It's alright, your work is quite interesting."

Fan Binbin took a few steps closer, leaned against the edge of the desk, and glanced at the open documents.

"Director Fu... are you planning to acquire a movie theater?"

Her question was somewhat probing, but more so, it stemmed from curiosity.

Fu Yibai glanced at her, neither hiding anything nor needing to.

"Yes, the future direction of Morning Light Media will not be limited to content production."

Retail channels are equally important.

He was concise, but his ambition was clearly evident in his words.

Fan Binbin's heart inexplicably quickened.

She admired the man in front of her more and more.

"You...think very far ahead."

Fan Binbin's voice softened, carrying an admiration he himself was unaware of.

"Many people think that all a director needs to do is create good content."

"Creativity is the core, but a healthy industry ecosystem is needed for good works to be seen by more people."

Fu Yibai stood up, walked to the small round table, opened the paper bag, and the aroma of food wafted out.

"Only when you are strong can you have more say, protect what you want to film, and give your collaborators more space."

Fu Yibai wanted to build an indestructible entertainment empire before internet capital entered the industry.

In the future, when facing those financial giants, we can confidently say no.

He spoke calmly, yet every word struck a chord with Fan Binbin.

A complex mix of admiration, heartache, and a desire to get closer quietly began to grow in her heart and spread rapidly.

"Director Fu..."

Fan Binbin walked over and sat down next to him. Unlike before, she didn't try to get close to him. She just rested her chin on her hand and looked at him.

"Aren't you tired doing all this by yourself?"

Fu Yibai picked up a shrimp dumpling, paused upon hearing this, and looked up at her.

"Being tired is the norm."

Fu Yibai ate the shrimp dumplings; they did taste quite good.

"But some things, if you don't do them now, you may never have the chance to do them again, or the cost may be much higher."

He took a sip of porridge, which warmed his stomach and made him feel more relaxed.

"How about you? How was filming today? Ye Lanqiu's emotions are hard to grasp, especially the undercurrents beneath the seemingly calm surface in the early episodes."

He steered the conversation back to work, but his tone was more casual than when he was on set.

Over a late-night snack, the two actually started discussing the play in depth, just like a director and actors.

The atmosphere, however, was more private and gentle, like the late night, compared to the film set.

Before I knew it, the night had grown deeper.

The porridge bowl was empty, and the shrimp dumplings were all gone.

Fan Binbin did not bring up any more ambiguous topics, nor did he make any provocative moves.

She simply tidied up the table a little, then got up.

"I won't disturb your rest any longer, Director Fu."

See you on set tomorrow.

She walked to the door, put her hand on the doorknob, and glanced back at Fu Yibai.

Fu Yibai also stood up and saw her to the door.

"Thank you for the late-night snack, Binbin."

Go back and get some sleep.

Fan Binbin nodded, opened the door, but then stopped, turned around, and quickly and gently kissed him on the cheek.

The kiss was light, like a feather brushing against her skin. Before Fu Yibai could react, she had already slipped out the door, leaving only a whisper in the air.

"Director Fu, I think I've really fallen for you."

The door closed gently.

Fu Yibai stood there, the slightly cool touch on his cheek still lingering.

He raised his hand and touched it, his eyes deep.