PNB Chapter 19, "Remaining Sins," is now available online.
Chapter 19, "Remaining Sins," is now available online.
Xu Yongfeng nodded, having made his decision. He didn't look at He Ming, but his words were directed at him:
"Mr. He, since you were the one who initially reviewed this project and raised the main objections, it is most appropriate for you to be in charge of the subsequent communication."
He Ming suddenly looked up, a look of surprise and embarrassment flashing in his eyes.
Xu Yongfeng continued, "You personally contact 'Tongfan Studio' to convey our congratulations on behalf of the company, and also tell them that the company is open to potential future cooperation. Listen to their current thoughts and needs. Be humble."
He Ming's face flushed red and then turned pale as he asked the person who had opposed him the most to humbly contact the now-glorious "discarded pawn."
But since things had come to this, he could only manage to squeeze out two words through gritted teeth:
"clear."
"Meeting adjourned." Xu Yongfeng stood up, not glancing at anyone else, and left directly.
In the conference room, Li Lan slowly and methodically organized her documents, the smile on her lips finally no longer concealed.
He looked at He Ming, who was still frozen in place, and said in a "sincere" tone:
"Mr. He, thank you for your hard work. I've met Qi Yue; he's talented, but he also has a temper. Please be understanding when you communicate with him."
He Ming glared at him fiercely, then turned and left.
Manager Sun quickly packed his things and slipped away, hoping that the power struggle among the higher-ups wouldn't affect him, a small fry.
Li Lan sat alone in the conference room for a while, looking at the long data curve of "Yu Zui" on the screen, then sneered and got up to leave.
......
Senior film critic and columnist Chen Mo walked into the office with a frown.
An unusual restlessness permeated the air.
Several young editors and interns were gathered around a computer, occasionally letting out low laughter or exclamations of surprise. Even the usually composed Lao Zhang was craning his neck to look.
"What are you looking at so intently during work hours?"
Chen Mo put down his briefcase, his tone carrying the meticulousness typical of a senior.
He glanced at the screen; it seemed to be a clip from a TV series. The picture quality wasn't top-notch, and the actors' faces were unfamiliar.
"Good morning, Teacher Chen!" An intern turned around, eyes shining. "I'm watching a new web series, 'Yu Zui,' it's super popular! Would you like some...?"
"A web series?" Chen Mo snorted softly, ignored it, and went straight to his workstation.
In his view, the term "web series" is almost synonymous with "poorly made," "attention-grabbing," and "fast-food culture," something that cannot be discussed by professional film critics.
He had more important work to do: write a feature article for the next issue of the magazine on "The Evolution of Heroic Character Portrayal in Chinese Film and Television Dramas".
Chen Mo opened a blank document, retrieved the collected information, and tried to get into the zone.
But for some reason, his thoughts drifted. The collective atmosphere in the office, where everyone was subtly drawn to a certain work, was like a subtle electric current interfering with his concentration.
I typed a few lines, deleted them, typed them again, and then felt it wasn't right.
An hour has passed, and the document still only contains a few dry lines at the beginning. Inspiration has dried up, and the document tastes bland and unappealing.
He got up irritably, intending to go to the break room to make himself a strong cup of coffee to clear his head.
As they passed the computer that was still surrounded by a small group of people, the intern quickly sent a link to his internal communication software.
"Teacher Chen, I really recommend you watch this! It's just one episode, it won't take up much of your time! It's really different!" The intern sent a pleading emoji.
Chen Mo initially intended to ignore it, but inexplicably, perhaps driven by professional curiosity, or perhaps simply wanting to temporarily escape his frustratingly blank document,
He moved the mouse and clicked the link.
The iQiyi video page loads, and the first episode of "Yu Zui" begins playing.
The opening scene wasn't grand or suspenseful; instead, it featured a young man with a slightly roguish look and a reckless glint in his eyes, facing the camera as if giving a statement, or perhaps talking to himself.
"My name is Yu Zui, nicknamed 'Bastard Yu.' I'm a recent graduate from police academy. My dream is to become a local police officer in my hometown after graduation—it's prestigious and has good benefits..."
Chen Mo raised an eyebrow. This kind of self-introduction that breaks the fourth wall is still rare in Chinese dramas.
The dialogue is full of swagger and even some "politically incorrect," making the motivation for becoming a policeman so shrewd and straightforward.
"I once asked my dad who gave me this name, and he told me it was my mom. He objected at the time, but he couldn't persuade her otherwise. But now that my mom is dead, it's become a mystery. Later, I wondered if my mom had joined some religious organization back then that believed sexual impulses were sinful. Who knows? But then again, aren't we all products of impulse?"
Chen Mo leaned back in his chair, his fingers, which were about to close the page at any moment, stopped.
The male lead, named "Yu Zui," is completely different from all the male leads in Chinese dramas he has ever seen.
He seemed to have rolled straight out of the city streets, carrying the smell of earth and sweat, so real it was almost jarring.
Then, the plot unfolds.
Police academy elite selection, a special "survival test", Yu Zui and his "bad friends" are thrown into a big city to undergo a survival test.
The pace is fast, the plot is steep, and the dialogue is sharp and scathing.
"Is he dead or not?"
"You'd better get out of here! If you kill someone, I might lose my job as a policeman."
"We'll die together!"
"Don't fucking talk to me!"
To save his best friend, Mouse, Yu Zui "accidentally" kills a robber. Under the dim streetlights, Yu Zui's silhouette is seen as he flees alone.
When the ending theme song, "Chasing the Light," played, the clean female vocals created a wonderful contrast with the previous rough plot, leaving a lingering aftertaste.
Chen Mo was then shocked to realize that he had actually watched three episodes in one go!
The entire morning's plans were completely disrupted.
Strangely, he felt no annoyance, but rather a long-lost sense of exhilaration, as if he were fully satisfied by a good story.
He looked again at his still blank document on the topic of "the evolution of the creation of heroic figures," which suddenly seemed incredibly pale and outdated after reading "Yu Zui."
Is Yu Zui a hero? According to traditional definitions, he probably doesn't even come close.
But isn't the complex, grassroots vitality he possesses precisely the "evolution" that film and television creation needs in the new era?
Without hesitation, Chen Mo raised his hand and deleted all the few lines of dry text in the document.
On the brand new blank page, he typed the new title:
"The Counterattack of 'Yu Zui': How Web Series Reshape the Boundaries of Character Narrative and Realism in Chinese Dramas"
His thoughts flowed like a spring. He set aside the obscure theoretical terms and began writing from Yu Zui's roguish self-introduction.
"The success of 'Yu Zui' may signify the rise of a new creative logic: it doesn't pursue perfect heroes and absolute enlightenment, but dares to showcase the complexities of human nature and the raw truth of survival. With the unique flexibility and raw energy of web dramas, it breaks through certain conventional barriers of traditional dramas, allowing more realistic, vivid, and even more 'insecure' characters and stories to breathe. This is not just a victory for one show, but more likely a signal of a subtle shift in narrative paradigms..."
After typing the last period, Chen Mo let out a long sigh of relief, feeling a sense of exhilarating satisfaction.
He checked the time and realized it was well past closing time; he was the only one left in the office.
He saved the document and sent the article to the editor-in-chief, adding: "A hastily written piece on the recent phenomenal web series 'Yu Zui,' which may serve as an introduction to the next issue's focus topic."
Chen Mo shut down his computer, walked to the window, and looked down at the bustling city traffic.
He recalled Yu Zui's eyes, which held a roguish yet defiant air, and the vivid characters and compelling storyline of the drama.
Perhaps it's time for him, and many others like him who once held prejudices against "web series," to re-examine this burgeoning field.