Best Director in Literature Department of Huayu

Chapter 41 First Meeting

Lin Ruiyang stood by the window on the second floor of the teaching building, watching the girl slowly disappear from sight. Based on his memories from his previous life, he knew that this was the future Queen Fuyao.

At this time, Yang Mi hadn't yet shed the naivety of a Beijing girl; beneath her thick bangs were a pair of fox-like eyes that couldn't hide their intelligence.

The second round of the entrance exams for the Beijing Film Academy ended on the 25th this year, and the results will be released on March 21st. I guess there's something going on here at this time.

"What are you looking at so intently?" The fat man came closer and followed Lin Ruiyang's gaze, only to see a blurry figure from behind.

"It's nothing, just enjoying the scenery." Lin Ruiyang withdrew his gaze and calmly drew the curtains.

Lin Ruiyang drew the curtains very gently, but the fat man's gossipy heart was already burning to the top of his head.

"Wait a minute, Lao Lin, when have you ever stared out the window for more than ten seconds? I've known you for a year and a half, and the longest you've ever been in a daze was when you were writing a script and got stuck."

He stood up and glanced out the window again: "You were looking out for at least half a minute."

"Do you know that girl?"

"I don't know him."

"So you've got your eye on her."

"Fatty" Lin Ruiyang turned his head, his expression calm.

"If you have plenty of energy, you can double-check the media attendance sheet for the premiere. Wang Hai said that three media outlets changed their reporters at the last minute, so the list needs to be updated."

Seeing that things were going wrong, the fat man plopped back down in his chair, abandoning his intention to ask further questions.

Although China Film Group has officially announced the release date of March 10, the atmosphere on the Beijing Film Academy campus remains delicate.

Lin Ruiyang did not rush to get involved in the outside debates; he typed the last character of the script for "The Devil Wears Prada" on his computer.

His eight years of experience as a ghostwriter in his previous life made him adept at writing about workplace fashion; he only needed to focus on some details of the era to finish the piece quickly.

He skillfully logged into his email and sent the meticulously crafted, all-English script attachment to Roger Sutherland in Los Angeles.

"Rogge, the script is finished," Lin Ruiyang wrote in the email. "Tell the people at Fox that if they want a movie that can define a classic in the fashionable workplace, this is what they want."

After clicking send, he leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh of relief.

While domestic public opinion was pessimistic about him, he had already quietly planted the first bomb in the pond of Hollywood.

Lin Ruiyang opened the drawer and took out a neatly folded campus map booklet.

He wasn't truly indifferent to the girl from before; it was just that in his previous life, he had witnessed the rise and fall of fame and fortune in the industry, and now he cared more about this sense of destiny arising from the intersection of time and space.

"Ruiyang, Professor Liu is looking for you." A third-year student from the Literature Department pushed open the door, his expression somewhat strange.

"Over at the academic affairs office, it seems they're also supervising a rather pretty freshman."

Lin Ruiyang raised an eyebrow. It was a coincidence, something he couldn't avoid.

When he arrived at the entrance of the Academic Affairs Office, he saw Teacher Liu Yibing standing with his hands behind his back, talking to a girl next to him.

The girl was Yang Mi. She was nervously clutching the strap of her backpack when she saw Lin Ruiyang approaching, and her eyes widened instantly.

"Teacher Liu, you wanted to see me."

"Ruiyang, come here, let me introduce you to a junior from junior high school." Liu Yibing said with a smile, pointing at Yang Mi.

"This is Yang Mi. She just passed the re-examination and did well. Her family and I have some connections, so she came early today to take care of some documents. She happened to hear about you and insisted on meeting our literature department's Berlin Hero."

Yang Mi seemed a little flustered at this moment, and she quickly looked Lin Ruiyang up and down.

In her imagination, a director who can win the Silver Bear should be like those veteran artists, unkempt or with a unique style, and with a touch of vicissitude in his eyes.

But Lin Ruiyang in front of me, apart from having dark circles under his eyes, probably from staying up late recently, looked clean and neat.

"Director Lin... no, hello senior." Yang Mi's voice still had a touch of childlike innocence.

"Hello." Lin Ruiyang nodded politely.

"Um... I've seen the report in the newspaper," Yang Mi said, trying to ease the awkwardness.

"I think those reports are all nonsense. Although I haven't seen your work yet, from an actor's perspective, I think you're quite amazing."

Lin Ruiyang looked at the hardworking young man in front of him, who hadn't fully matured yet, and suddenly smiled:

"Thank you. If you really think it's amazing, you can go to the cinema to support it on March 10th. As for what others say, that's not important."

After saying that, he turned to look at Liu Yibing: "Teacher, the release date has been finalized. I need to go to China Film Group to confirm the distribution of the copies with President Han."

"Alright, business is more important, go ahead and get busy." Liu Yibing waved his hand.

Yang Mi stood there, watching that tall, slender figure, and muttered to herself, "What's with the swagger? Just because he's handsome doesn't mean he's all that great..."

But her gaze lingered on that figure for a long time.

While Lin Ruiyang was busy in Beijing, in Los Angeles...

Roger Sutherland was sitting in a cafe on Hollywood Boulevard, idly scrolling through his email.

When he saw the email titled "The Devil Wears Prada - Revised Screenplay Treatment," his sleepy eyes snapped open.

He opened the attachment, intending only to skim through it, but after reading the first page, he held his coffee cup for a long time without putting it down.

Lin Ruiyang didn't simply portray her as a capricious female demon as in the original work; instead, he endowed her with a professional loneliness and a profound sense of responsibility towards the fashion industry. That sigh behind the glamour instantly elevates the entire story's tone.

"This guy... has he really never been to Manhattan?" Roger muttered to himself.

After the script was read, Roguillot's people finally arrived—a script review consultant sent by Elizabeth.

That afternoon, the printed script appeared on Elizabeth Gabler's desk in the Fox Building in Century City.

When she finished turning the last page, it was already pitch black outside the window in Los Angeles, and the coffee on the table was untouched and completely cold.

She picked up the internal phone, dialed a number, and said only one sentence: "Have Roger come to my office tomorrow morning."

The meeting the following morning was brief. Gabrielle didn't beat around the bush and told Roger directly that she was interested in the direction of the script, but needed to speak with Lin Ruiyang in person before making a final decision.

"And when?" Roger asked her.

"In mid-March, I happen to be going to Beijing to investigate the Asian market."

"Get that young man ready. I want to see more aggressive ideas from him as a director, beyond just the script."

As Roger walked out of the Fox Building, the midday sun made him squint. He immediately made a transoceanic call; it was already late at night in Beijing.

"Lin, Elizabeth is amazed." Roger's voice was slightly excited amidst the static.

"She's coming to Beijing in mid-March. This is your only chance if you can convince her in person to let you direct the film you wrote."

Lin Ruiyang held his phone. There were less than 48 hours left until the release of "A Separation" on March 10, and the battle in Hollywood had already reached his doorstep.

"I understand. I'll give her a project proposal she can't refuse." He hung up the phone, his expression calm.