Chapter 64 - The Film Industry

Song Luli spent the entire week revising her drafts with Lan Shufen, finalizing on a ready copy of her screenplay.

Each day the nerves began to creep up on her wary stomach; she wasn't sure if she could do this. But Song Luli took a deep breath, reminding herself that this is what she wanted, what Long Jie encouraged her to do.

She left the office to meet with a producer that would hear out her pitches.

Before she entered the public café, she inhaled and exhaled deep breaths to stop the thrumming in her chest.

She entered, finding Lei Zixin, the producer, sitting by a round table, eating some complimentary fruits provided by her in advance.

"How are you, Mr. Lei?" Song Luli asked by way of greeting with a smile. She reached out, offering a hand to shake, which he took, shaking firmly.

"I'm well, thank you, Ms. Song," he greeted back. Lei Zixin then glanced around her, looking for anyone else that would be joining them. "Am I not meeting any of your screenwriters today?"

Song Luli shook her head, smiling. "No, I want to offer a screenplay written by me and edited by one of my screenwriters," she replied.

Lei Zixin arched one of his brows. He took the screenplay from her hand, reading over the first pages, and skimming the rest. Afterward, he let out a bone-weary sigh, scratching his head.

"Miss Song, it's good, but we don't have the market for it," he let down.

Song Luli didn't know how to respond. "Sorry, Mr. Lei, what do you mean by that?"

"The market is not looking for this type of romance," he said.

"But just last week—"

"Sorry, Miss Song," said Lei Zixin. He then stood from his seat, buttoning up his suit jacket before leaving, not letting her speak another word.

Song Luli didn't understand; the other week, he had told her that he was interested in the idea. All he wanted to do was meet the screenwriter and read over the screenplay.

Was this why Lan Shufen told her not to mention who wrote it before the meeting? Would she have been immediately rejected if the producer knew she was the one who wrote it?

Song Luli collected her things, heading back to the office. She went to visit Lan Shufen, who was typing away. He glanced at her, waiting for the news. Song Luli took a seat and shook her head.

Lan Shufen gritted his teeth, clenching his fists.

"I'm sorry that happened, Luli," Lan Shufen said.

Song Luli bit her lips, preventing herself from feeling upset over it. She could try again with another producer, but she only feared that this wouldn't be her last rejection.

...

Song Luli kept trying, and she kept getting rejected.

She only cried in front of Long Jie, and he comforted her by holding her at night and offering all the snacks she wanted. He knew how much it went to her, but he told her to persist, to keep going. So she did.

After her sixth rejection, she went to Lan Shufen again.

"What can I do?" she asked him.

Lan Shufen sighed. "Luli. The producers in the film industry underpay female screenwriters, and will only take in the desperate ones. Since you're the CEO of an entertainment company, they know you'll want at least half of the earnings, and they don't like it. It's all about money and profit for them. They don't take collaborations, only submissions."

Song Luli's lips parted open at the reality. Is this true? How had she not realized it sooner?

Song Luli released a breath. "I have to sell it. I don't want to produce my first work; I want to seem like I earned it," she responded.

"We will sell it," Lan Shufen assured her. "Just keep trying."

Song Luli knitted her brows. "How would you know? You sold your first piece at the first meeting," she snapped.

Lan Shufen exhaled deeply. "Yes," he answered. "But, you're Song Luli, and that should be enough."

"No," Song Luli said. "The reality is that I am a CEO and a woman. They won't take me seriously, or maybe it just isn't good."

"It is good," Lan Shufen snapped back.

"No, it isn't," Song Luli said. "I should just give up now—"

"Don't," Lan Shufen raised his voice. "Submit your work under a pseudonym, and reveal your name after."

"Huh?" Song Luli responded.

"If they think you're a man or upcoming, it will work."

"How would you know?"

"Because" Lan Shufen began, his voice had gone softer, almost dainty.

He took off his glasses, sweeping his hair to the side. He removed his over-sized sweater, and for a moment, he looked more slender and thin than Song Luli thought he was.

Song Luli's eyes widened.

"In this industry, people like us won't be taken seriously," said Lan Shufen, with a sweet and high-pitched tone.

Song Luli's eyes remained wide, trying to register and adjust who Lan Shufen was.

"You're—a girl?" Song Luli asked, unbelieving.

Lan Shufen nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me since the beginning. I would have let you join regardless," Song Luli pressed.

"I was rejected for other projects, and I hadn't heard anything back from anyone. I thought my chances would be better if I pretended to be a man. I didn't tell you because it's not you that I fear rejection from, but from others in the industry," Lan Shufen explained.

Song Luli weighed in his—her words.

"Will you still be keeping this a secret?" Song Luli asked.

Lan Shufen nodded. "Just until I make a name for myself," she replied.

Song Luli felt pity for Lan Shufen. She had to pretend to be a man because of the challenges she faced for being a woman. Song Luli can imagine Lan Shufen making a name for herself, and faceslapping the industry when she reveals her true gender later on.

Song Luli, on the other hand, felt as if she shouldn't pretend. She should face the industry as she was.

"I'm going to get support for this screenplay. I'll put it out there for producers who are interested in picking it up," Song Luli said to Lan Shufen.

Lan Shufen smiled. "This is why I wanted to work for you," she admitted.

Song Luli's lips curled. She felt a sudden burst of motivation to put her work out there and to get the support she needed.

Lan Shufen placed the oversized sweater on; she put on her glasses and used her hair to hide her face. Song Luli should have known that Lan Shufen was a woman since she avoided eye contact most of the time.

This made her feel good; she needed a friend, and she needed someone to understand her.