Xiao He felt he should retract his previous statement—
"I shouldn't have thought Director Yan was the least reliable among all the directors I've worked with."
After being hard-controlled by "cut!" all afternoon, Xiao He now spoke with utter exhaustion.
"He should be the most demanding among all the directors I've worked with!"
Although Xiao He had encountered very strict directors before, none had reached this level of exacting standards. Some actors had poor acting skills, and directors knew it too—those who could be saved got a few more "cuts," while hopeless cases were simply skipped over, pretending not to notice, and could even be praised with a smile.
"So he's still a new director, more pure-hearted," Liu Rulan said with a laugh beside him. "The old foxes don't like doing this kind of thing anymore."
Did you think other directors couldn't tell these people had terrible acting skills? Of course not. Directors just couldn't be bothered to correct them—it took time and effort without gaining favor, and if the actors had powerful backgrounds, saying too much might even get the director replaced. Who wanted to waste energy on corrections!
Actually, this was one reason why dramas had become increasingly unwatchable in recent years, with actors' performances becoming more and more subpar.
Even directors had given up—how could such dramas possibly be good?
Thinking about it now, Liu Rulan finally understood why Zhuang Hongyi dared to confidently hand the production team over to Yan Shaohan.
A new director like Yan Shaohan—"ignorant of the world's ways," possessing decent directing skills himself, somewhat thick-skinned, not accepting the industry's unspoken rules, unable to understand the old foxes' sarcasm or recognize their deliberate obstruction, single-minded and pure—was perfectly suited for this mixed-bag production environment.
He didn't know the complicated backgrounds behind these actors, didn't understand the complex competitive relationships between them, and didn't realize what capital the actors he offended represented. Therefore, he could act more freely, catching details that major directors had grown too lazy to address, and pushing those poorly performing, slacking actors to readjust their acting methods and techniques.
From several previous incidents, it was clear Yan Shaohan had been purely straightforward from start to finish—so pure that he "couldn't be targeted," completely unaware that people in the production team were dissatisfied with him. And in this "untargetable" state, he could unintentionally strike back precisely, making people feel like they'd punched cotton, leaving them particularly frustrated.
Now it seemed their previous decision was indeed correct. This project was Zhuang Hongyi's own investment and production—he wouldn't throw his investment into the water just to hear a splash. Daring to let Yan Shaohan take the lead meant Yan Shaohan must have exceptional qualities.
After listening to Liu Rulan's quiet explanation of Zhuang Hongyi's thinking, Xiao He rubbed his nose: "As expected of a major director's vision. I thought Director Zhuang simply liked the 'Corner Also' comic, and by extension liked its author too."
Liu Rulan shot Xiao He a sidelong glance: "What joke is that? Zhuang Hongyi is a businessman—even external evaluations call him 'the most profitable billion-box-office director.' Do you think he'd do these things purely for passion?"
Spending small money is passion; spending big money is business and investment.
He's not stupid.
Xiao He seemed thoughtful, then spread his hands: "Alright, Sister Liu, you're definitely right."
At least with such a director, everyone needn't worry about the drama's quality.
Of course, what worried them was another group—
That night, Yuan Sitong left the set in tears.
And not just Yuan Sitong—several other actors also had pale, sickly expressions when they finished.
The culprit, busy all day, remained full of energy. Seeing the tearful group, he looked puzzled: "What's wrong? Too deeply immersed in the role, can't get out?"
Yuan Sitong's hand wiping tears paused, then she glared fiercely at Yan Shaohan before turning and stomping away.
Yan Shaohan: "Huh?"
Xiao He: "..."
Yan Shaohan scratched his head, then turned to Xiao He: "Xiao He, want to grab a meal outside later? I know this old restaurant in the west district—"
"Hehe, no thanks, it's too late today. I plan to rest early."
Xiao He decisively declined.
He was no longer an energetic university student—now he was a lifeless working adult.
His greatest joy now was returning to his hotel, sitting on the sofa scrolling through his phone while eating takeout.
He didn't want to cross several districts with this guy just for one meal.
Forget it, forget it—better to wash up and sleep.
Yan Shaohan, rejected, didn't say more and soon turned to find others.
Xiao He heaved a deep sigh of relief, while Liu Rulan also remarked: "He really can't read the room, can he?"
Xiao He sighed helplessly: "...You don't have to say it so directly."
"It's a good thing," Liu Rulan shrugged. "Didn't you see how he angered Yuan Sitong and the others? They almost started cursing on the spot, but he completely missed it, and afterward could even cheerfully invite people to eat."
Honestly, this kind of super-thick skin and thought process wasn't something ordinary people possessed.
Xiao He rested his chin on his hand, thoughtful: "Actually, we could learn a thing or two."
Learn this infuriating approach—
Liu Rulan: "..."
This time it was Liu Rulan who looked speechless.
She stared at Xiao He somewhat helplessly for a moment, then spread her hands: "Just don't come angering me."
Xiao He grinned: "Of course not, how could I anger my respected and admired Sister Liu?"
Liu Rulan: "Stop fooling around, go rest. The production team will definitely be very lively recently—build up energy to watch the show."
Xiao He coughed lightly: "Naturally."
...
The following days in the production team could be described as complete chaos.
The day after filming started, Yuan Sitong took leave, directly claiming sudden illness and wanting to rest for a few days. Two other senior colleagues who considered themselves higher-ranking couldn't resist lecturing Yan Shaohan, telling him to save some face for the actors, not target them excessively, prioritize the filming schedule, and not make the production atmosphere too tense.
However, what these two seniors didn't expect was that after they blabbered extensively before Yan Shaohan, he only belatedly understood that "Yuan Sitong was angry with him," then very puzzledly scratched the back of his head: "Huh? I didn't scold her, why is she so angry? Is there some misunderstanding? Weren't we just normally filming and discussing scenes yesterday?"
The two senior colleagues: ...
Others: ...
Wait, you still don't get the situation?
Yan Shaohan truly didn't understand. In his view, yesterday was just normal work interaction. Like when an employee performs poorly on a task, as the supervisor he naturally has the right to point it out and request redoing it! Why would the employee get angry?
This work would eventually be delivered to the client—if he turned a blind eye, the client would definitely be unhappy. If it got sent back for rework later, that would be even worse.
Yan Shaohan felt he hadn't done anything wrong, but he was willing to learn humbly: "Then what should I do? Should I apologize to her?"
He couldn't delay work, after all.
As for reporting to Zhuang Hongyi—Yan Shaohan never considered it. He felt this was completely trivial, and besides, like everyone else, he was just a working employee. Reporting would make him like those annoying tattletales from school days?
The two senior colleagues approvingly gave him a look: "Teachable youngster."
So Yan Shaohan turned and ordered a large cake for Yuan Sitong, writing "I'm Sorry" in huge letters on it.
Yuan Sitong, constantly dieting to maintain her figure, turned green at the sight of this large cake.