The day after the female lead's team suggested cutting the princess's scenes, 99 Entertainment's Sister Li arranged a dinner meeting.
The director couldn't afford to offend either the female lead's team or Sister Li, so he brought the screenwriter and producer along, knowing full well they were walking into a lion's den.
Sister Li had chosen a renowned private dining restaurant in Beijing—pricey, delicious, and most importantly, very discreet. As soon as they entered, the hostess greeted them with a smile and led them to the private room, where they noticed a familiar face: Wu Tezhu, the one who had invested heavily in their production.
Beside Wu Tezhu sat a young girl who looked barely out of university. Her simple attire and casual demeanor made the director and producer assume she was Wu Tezhu's assistant. The producer, a seasoned figure in the industry, noted that her outfit was quite ordinary, perhaps totaling around a thousand yuan.
It wasn't until Sister Li introduced her that they realized their mistake. "This is our boss at Jiu Shi Jiu Entertainment, Ms. Qin."
The three guests exchanged incredulous glances. The producer quickly regained his composure and extended a hand, "Ms. Qin, it's a pleasure…" But Wu Tezhu intercepted, shaking his hand instead, and gestured for them to sit.
As the director tried to initiate conversation, Ms. Qin smiled and said, "No rush. Let's eat first."
Despite her youthful appearance, Ms. Qin's demeanor was that of a seasoned negotiator. Shortly after, the waitstaff began bringing in dishes—each more exquisite than the last. Yet, despite the enticing spread, the director, producer, and screenwriter barely touched their food, preoccupied with what was to come.
When Ms. Qin finally set down her chopsticks, the others instinctively followed suit. She dabbed at her lips with a napkin and then addressed them directly, "I'm sure you all know why I arranged this meeting."
The director attempted to say something, but she continued, "First, let me assure you that I have no intention of withdrawing our investment. That's not why we're here." The three men didn't relax at this; they knew there was more to come.
"I invested in this project because our artist liked the script. She takes the role, I invest, and everyone benefits. Even the costumes and props were arranged to ensure our artist received the best treatment."
The director knew he had to speak up. "Rest assured, Ms. Qin, we appreciate Manman's dedication, and we won't let her hard work go to waste."
Ms. Qin smiled as she gestured for him to sit down, but her tone was firm, "While I trust you won't allow our artist to suffer, there's been some overstepping. Frankly, I've seen the female lead's work, and her performance isn't up to par. I'm in this to make a profit, but at this rate, I'm concerned the money won't come back."
In truth, Ms. Qin didn't care much about recouping the investment—after all, the funds came from a system. But the director paled at her words. Ms. Qin pressed on, "I think we need a new female lead if we want this project to succeed."
The producer was the first to react, stammering, "That's not… we can't just replace her. A lot of our investment came because of her, and the original author specifically chose her…"
Ms. Qin cut him off with a derisive laugh, "Investment because of her? Sure, before we came on board, maybe. But our investment dwarfs everything else."
The producer fell silent. He knew it was true—Jiu Shi Jiu's investment far exceeded any other contributions.
Ms. Qin continued, "And as for the author's preference… let's be honest, once the rights are sold, the author's influence is minimal."
Her words were sharp, but accurate. In China, once a work is adapted, the author often loses creative control.
"I'm in this for a return on my investment. If the script is butchered to satisfy the whims of one actor, that's not going to happen."
The director knew the situation was dire. "But… if we replace her, we don't have anyone else lined up. Please, Ms. Qin, give us a chance to talk to her team. We'll make sure this doesn't happen again!"
Ms. Qin didn't respond immediately. Sister Li, seeing an opportunity to ease the tension, stepped in with a smile, "Let's not rush into this. We should enjoy the meal. It's not often we all get together like this."
Sister Li's words helped lighten the mood slightly, and the group returned to their meal, albeit still under a cloud of tension.
After a while, the door to the private room was knocked on again. The director assumed it was for dessert, but when Wu Tezhu opened the door, two women entered.
One of them was immediately recognizable—beautiful and poised, she bore a striking resemblance to their current female lead. The director realized this was none other than Rong Hua, the legendary actress after whom their lead was often compared.
But why was Rong Hua here?
The director and his colleagues quickly pieced it together. When they had protested that finding a replacement on short notice would be impossible, Ms. Qin had simply gone out and secured a higher-caliber actress.
Standing next to Rong Hua was the original author of the novel. Wu Tezhu invited them both to sit down, and once everyone was seated, Ms. Qin resumed the conversation.
"Now that we're all here, let's discuss the script. It can be changed, but only by the screenwriter and the author. This isn't just another clichéd romance; it's supposed to be a dreamlike tale. I want a proper story, not a vanity project."
She then looked directly at the director, "And I'm insisting on a new lead. Rong Hua has expressed interest in the role, so let's work together to make this happen."
"Money is no object. My only demand is that this production stays true to its potential." She then turned to the author, "I love your novel, and I want to see it brought to life the way you envisioned it—not how some actress wants to shape it."
The author was flattered and quickly promised to work closely with the screenwriter to refine the script.
The director and his colleagues knew the decision was no longer in their hands. The director, realizing he had no choice, drained his glass and cursed under his breath before making a decision. "Alright, Ms. Qin, you've got my support. Let's do this right."
With that, the tension finally eased, and the group enjoyed the rest of their meal.
Afterwards, Wu Tezhu arranged for drivers to take everyone home. As they left, she reminded them, "Ms. Qin prefers to keep a low profile. We'd appreciate it if you didn't share anything about her."
Understanding the implicit warning, they all promised to keep her identity confidential.
Back at the hotel, the director, producer, and screenwriter gathered in the director's room, their thoughts swirling. The producer, still in awe of the evening, remarked, "That young Ms. Qin is sharp—like a fox in sheep's clothing."
He stubbed out his cigarette and added, "Let's just do as she says. And old Hu, you're getting up there—maybe it's time to focus on making something truly great."