It was early morning in Los Angeles, and sunlight streamed through the Venetian blinds, illuminating the long conference table.
The first table read for Pangu Pictures' A Beautiful Mind was underway.
The air was thick with the scent of coffee, and the atmosphere was tense yet subtly electric.
Director Ron Howard, with his warm smile, looked like an approachable, friendly neighbor. He had even brought small gifts for everyone at their first meeting.
Right now, he was excitedly detailing his vision for the shoot.
After directing commercial blockbusters for years, Howard was eager to prove his artistic merit with a deeply thoughtful biopic. When Link invited him, a single phrase—"This will be the story that wins you an Oscar"—was all it took for the two to immediately click.
The two leads, however, seemed to be from different planets.
Russell Crowe was sprawled lazily in his chair, wearing an old T-shirt, resembling a brown bear ready to nap at any moment.
Jennifer Connelly, in a crisp white shirt, was composed and focused, like a perfectly carved piece of jade. Her mere presence drew everyone's attention.
"...I plan to use a lot of handheld camera work to convey Nash's hallucinations, making the audience feel how chaotic his world is."
Howard's voice was gentle and professional.
"No."
A voice, not loud, but clear, cut him off instantly.
It was Jennifer.
She looked up, her dark eyes, for the first time, meeting the director's gaze directly.
Her tone was calm: "Mr. Howard, Nash's hallucinations are real to him. His world is absolutely stable; it is our world that is chaotic."
She paused, her gaze bright and clear.
"Therefore, the camera shouldn't tell the audience this is fake. The camera should believe that world is real alongside him, forcing the audience to get lost and judge for themselves."
A deafening silence fell over the conference room.
Ron Howard opened his mouth, the smile on his face beginning to fade.
Russell Crowe, who had been resting with his eyes closed, opened them for the first time, looking intrigued by the woman who dared to contradict the director to his face.
Link looked at the ice-cold beauty, whose mind was focused purely on art, and smiled.
He knew it was time for him to step in.
"Jennifer's perspective is very insightful," he said, rising and walking over to the whiteboard. "But we also need a way for the audience to understand that a hallucination is occurring."
"But we won't let the hallucination appear out of thin air,"
He turned around, facing the confused group, and presented a concept rooted in Eastern aesthetic philosophy—
"We'll let reality bloom."
He pointed at Russell Crowe.
"For instance, the checks on your T-shirt, when you're deep in thought, start to subtly flow, the lines rearranging themselves into a perfect mathematical structure."
He then looked at Jennifer.
"Or, perhaps you're watching the raindrops outside the window. In that moment, the drops stop falling randomly and line up to form a sequence of prime numbers."
"When the audience sees this, they will instinctively understand—they are entering Nash's mind."
The conference room became utterly silent.
A few seconds later, Russell Crowe slowly straightened up, a smile appearing on the corner of his mouth.
"I can act that kind of breakdown."
Ron Howard looked up, his breathing quickening: "My God... that would be visually... so elegant!"
But the expression of the Visual Effects Supervisor completely froze.
"Mr. Link , that concept is too advanced. To achieve the 'self-flowing lines,' we would need an entirely new dynamic tracking system... that would require at least two years of development."
Link smiled.
The VFX Supervisor paused, then cautiously added: "But, sir... all our top research personnel are currently in Mexico, setting up the fluid dynamics models for the sinking ship simulation in Titanic."
The air instantly froze solid.
Everyone looked at Link.
An impossible dilemma was placed before him.
Should he risk the massive delay of the Titanic project by pulling core personnel just to achieve an elegant shot for an art house film?
Or should he abandon this brilliant idea and let A Beautiful Mind risk becoming just another average biopic?
Link looked at the people around him, a silent internal battle raging in his mind.
He knew he had another choice.
The "Spark of Inspiration" lying dormant in his system, which required a certain amount of influence to redeem.
If he used it, the system might provide a crucial algorithmic breakthrough, shortening the development time from two years to two weeks, or even less.
But he only had 9,000 influence points left.
He took a cold, sharp breath, his Adam's apple bobbing.
—Not enough.
For the first time, he truly felt the sting of realizing he was short on resources exactly when he needed them most.
He looked up at the words on the whiteboard—"We'll let reality bloom."
He knew that the moment he had spoken those words,
Fate had already begun forcing him to deliver on the promise.
No matter the cost.