Honestly, Ji Ling was having a hard time keeping his promise.
Because he was just too busy.
Right after Zhong Mingwei offered her help, Ji Ling jumped straight into close talks with the distributors. Imported revenue-sharing films were basically monopolized by just two companies, and most of the promo work was outsourced anyway.
Even though Zhong Mingwei was an actress, she’d had plenty of contact with Zong Bolin before, and her connections in the business world ran deep. Plus, since she also had ties with some of the producers, there were people willing to do her a favor.
But the real game-changer here… was still Yan Yixuan.
Even though he never showed up in person, the money he put in became Ji Ling’s invisible badge of honor. Whenever Ji Ling sat down to talk business, people weren’t really looking at him—they were looking at the power behind him, spelled out in three bold characters.
At this point, Ji Ling didn’t bother pretending anymore. He’d always thought like a businessman—if there’s money to be made, why not make it? As long as the company stayed firmly in his control and Yan Yixuan’s attitude toward him softened even just a little, Ji Ling felt like his bet with Yan Yixuan wasn’t a losing one.
Eventually, Ji Ling landed the promo contract for that movie. The grind it took to get there? Way more than just a few business dinners.
To be fair, these imported action flicks usually came with their own built-in fanbase, so hyping them up wasn’t too hard. But because there were a lot of restrictions around promoting imported movies, they had to lean hard on social media.
Then there was the trend of flying the main cast and crew to China to stir up buzz. A single press conference was way too boring—so they had to plan some kind of big event, get the fans fired up, and push ticket sales higher.
On top of that, the producers wanted a promo ambassador in China—someone with serious star power who could boost the box office all on their own.
This, of course, triggered a major rant from He Xiaoguang, who was still working at Ji Ling’s company.
“Why do we have to bring in some random celeb to promote a movie they’re not even in?” he complained. “Isn’t that just weird? Like, they’re not in the film at all, but they’re hyping it up, tricking their fans into watching it. And if the movie sucks, the fans get mad and start trashing it. Then the real fans get pissed and start fighting back. Does any of that actually help ticket sales?”
As usual, He Xiaoguang was sprawled across the desk, grumbling nonstop while typing up promo blurbs for WeChat and Weibo.
He was already in his senior year, but he hadn’t even started his thesis yet. He didn’t have many classes, so with all that free time, he ended up spending more of it working part-time at Ji Ling’s company.
Now that Ji Ling’s company had grown, He Xiaoguang wasn’t the only part-timer anymore. There was actual management now. But as one of the company’s OG interns, He Xiaoguang had a few perks that Ji Ling personally gave him.
Like, he could say whatever he wanted—no filter—and no one could hold it against him.
Sometimes Ji Ling even took him out to eat, just to catch up and hear how things were going at the film academy.
Even after his company got bigger, Ji Ling didn’t stop supporting the film students. His company had officially become a partner of the film academy. He helped solve the job problems of some students, and in return, the school sent him fresh talent. It was a win-win.
Ji Ling already had plans for He Xiaoguang. It seemed like He Xiaoguang wanted to stay with the company after graduation, but Ji Ling had other ideas. He thought He Xiaoguang’s writing and planning skills were actually pretty solid, and he should try for a production role at Luo Tao’s entertainment company instead. Still, he hadn’t mentioned it yet—he figured he’d wait until graduation to talk it over with him.
For the handful of people who’d started the company with him, Ji Ling really hoped they could all grow into something more.
That, to him, was the best way to repay the support they’d given him back in the day.
Even though He Xiaoguang couldn’t stand this weird mix of Chinese and Western promo styles, Ji Ling still stuck to the plan and followed the latest trends to put together a full promotional strategy.
Once the Chinese New Year film blackout was over—when only domestic films could be released—the movie would finally hit theaters.
First up, the foreign creative team behind the film did some outdoor events in a few cities, mixing it up with sports activities and fan interactions. Then, Ji Ling brought in a super popular young idol to sing the promo song and named him the ‘Movie Ambassador.’ They pushed that thing everywhere—online, offline, you name it.
Ji Ling had to work hard to shut down the idea of blending two different promotions together. Just recently, there’d been a huge blow-up online—movie fans and idol fans clashing hard, and with tensions still high, it was better to play it safe.
Since Zhong Mingwei was the only East Asian face in the film, she naturally became the focus of the campaign. So lately, Ji Ling had been meeting with her more often than usual.
Besides the official fee the company paid her, Ji Ling also privately gifted her a limited edition designer handbag from this year’s collection—his way of saying thanks. It worked. Zhong Mingwei’s opinion of him got even better.
To Ji Ling, whether it was small business or big business, the same rules applied: you scratch my back, I scratch yours. That’s how you build something that lasts. Neither Zong Bolin nor Ji Ling were the type to just take the money and bounce. Building relationships—that was always worth the effort.
Ji Ling had been all over the place lately, hopping between cities and barely touching down in S City. Some days, he didn’t even have time to make a phone call.
But that was fine—there was always WeChat.
The company’s official WeChat was managed by someone else. Ji Ling rarely posted anything on his own feed. Every now and then, before bed, he’d just copy a post from the company account and toss it onto his own timeline.
That day, he’d just wrapped up a big promo event—brought in some celebs to sing, dance, and hype up presales. It was late by the time it ended. He went back to the hotel, cleaned up, and was just about ready to crash.
Leaning against the headboard, he half-heartedly shared a few posts. He was about to put the phone down when he saw Yan Yixuan had just liked one.
Right then, Ji Ling remembered—he still owed the guy a meal. In an instant, any sleepiness he had vanished.
“Still up?” Ji Ling tried messaging him.
“Yeah.”
“I’m out of town right now,” Ji Ling explained first.
“I know.”
“I’ll treat you to dinner when I’m back.”
Yan Yixuan replied with a voice message. Ji Ling tapped on it.
He heard that familiar, slightly mocking voice: totally unimpressed.
“You’re making it sound like I’m desperate for a free meal.”
Ji Ling laughed and replied, “Hey, I promised last time, and I always keep my word. We’re definitely having that dinner.”
“Boss Ji is so busy with business—if eating with me costs you a few billion in losses, wouldn’t that make me the villain of the story?”
Yep. Yan Yixuan was throwing shade again.
Ji Ling shot back, “The poorer you are, the busier you get. I can’t compete with someone like you, Young Master Yan, just lying around making money.”
Honestly, anyone running a company is swamped. The two of them were just throwing jabs for fun.
It was getting late. Ji Ling figured they should both get some rest, but… part of him didn’t really want to end the chat just yet. While he was still hesitating, someone suddenly knocked on the door.
Ji Ling jumped—his skin broke out in goosebumps.
“Hold up, someone’s at the door,” he messaged Yan Yixuan.
“This late?” Yan Yixuan replied, clearly confused too.
Ji Ling walked to the door, slid on the safety latch, cracked it open, and asked, “Who is it?”
And wouldn’t you know—he actually recognized the person outside.
It was one of the background dancers from the promo event earlier. Third-tier at best, just there for the atmosphere. She was standing there now, blinking her big eyes at him.
“Mr. Ji,” she said sweetly. It was freezing outside—even though they were indoors, she was barely wearing anything. Her voice, though, was sugarcoated to the max.
“…”
Ji Ling would have to be an idiot not to know why she was there.
He instantly remembered what Zhong Mingwei had told him—not long ago, she said people were already starting to cozy up to him.
Ji Ling didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
He didn’t open the door all the way, just kept it at a narrow crack, and said to her, “It’s really late. What’s up? You should head back and get some sleep.”
The girl leaned to the side a little, showing off her figure, and said, “Mr. Ji, I need to talk to you. It’s freezing out here—can I come in?”
Ji Ling thought, ‘If I let you in, I’m toast.’ He said, “I’m going to sleep now. Whatever it is, let’s talk tomorrow.”
“Mr. Ji~ I’m so cold~” she whined.
“…”
Ji Ling sighed and gave her a way out, “Look, I’m just a nobody, alright? If you really want to warm up, the director for this event is staying upstairs. He handles production. Go find him—he’s way more useful than me.”
After he said that, Ji Ling waved his hand like he was about to close the door. As soon as the girl heard the word ‘production,’ her eyes lit up, and she quickly said, “Good night!” before running off like a blur.
Ji Ling shook his head and laughed before actually closing the door.
He went back to his room, grabbed his phone, and texted, “Still there?”
Yan Yixuan replied with a quick “Hmm.”
Ji Ling chuckled and typed, “I just got hit on by the unspoken rules.”
Yan Yixuan immediately called him.
“Who dares to pull that kind of stunt on my people?”
“…”
This guy… still thinks of himself as the big shot.
Ji Ling lay flat on the bed and replied, “It’s not me getting taken advantage of. It’s someone else trying to make me take advantage of them.”
Yan Yixuan paused, as if processing what he meant, then said, “Well, well, Boss Ji. Looks like people are actively coming to you.”
Ji Ling laughed and said, “I’m just learning from the best.”
This kind of game wasn’t new to Ji Ling. He’d played it before—and pretty openly too.
But now, when he looked at the temptation standing at his door, all he could do was laugh.
Maybe it was because his standards had become higher.
The young girls were nothing compared to someone like the spoiled, arrogant Young Master.
On the other end of the voice call, Yan Yixuan asked, “So, Boss Ji, you’re not going to take the duck that’s right in front of you?”
Ji Ling replied, “I don’t like duck. I prefer something else.” He grinned and hinted, “Young Master Yan, how about you treat me?”
“… Consider this a warning. Don’t tease me, or you won’t be able to finish what you started.”
Ji Ling burst out laughing.
After all, when you’re far from home, you might as well enjoy a little fun. He laughed for a moment, then felt the weight of exhaustion hit. Lowering his voice, he said, “Good night, Young Master Yan.”
This little distraction helped Ji Ling relax after his long day, but just as quickly, the movie had released, and the aftermath kept coming at him.
Now that the film was out, the work to maintain its reputation had begun. To keep the ticket sales steady, they had to maintain a good buzz on social media.
The reality for imported films in China was that their box office numbers were almost set in stone. The power of distribution was huge for foreign films, and promotion was just there to add the finishing touches.
Ji Ling had invested a lot of energy into this movie. First, to understand how blockbuster operations worked, and second, to get closer to the theater chains.
Ji Ling always had his own calculations, so when the box office numbers had pretty much solidified, he handed off the follow-up work to his team, finally freeing himself up.
The first thing Ji Ling did was go find Luo Tao.
Hello, everyone ヾ(＾∇＾). I hope you enjoyed the story! If you’re feeling generous, please buy me a coffee, share/comment on my translated works! Check out the link below for early chapters. (๑>ᴗ<๑)
