Start by Spending One Billion [Entertainment Industry]

It went surprisingly smoothly.

Sheng Quan had expected Director Wan Bao to be cooperative, but she hadn’t anticipated him to be *this* cooperative. He kept smiling at her with such enthusiasm that his face seemed to bloom like a chrysanthemum.

In her previous life, she hadn’t paid much attention to the entertainment industry, and since *Starlight* was set in a fictional world, many of its settings differed from what she was familiar with. Afraid of being taken advantage of as an outsider, she had spent several days holed up in her hotel room, cramming to gain a basic understanding of this world’s entertainment scene.

This was typical of Sheng Quan’s approach to things. Even though she had a "tycoon system" and had transmigrated into a novel, she wasn’t the type to charge forward blindly without first understanding the world she was in.

She had finished reading the original novel of *The Road of Life*, confirmed that her intended beneficiary, Yan Hui, had both the looks and the temperament to fit the role she wanted for him, and only then did she contact Director Wan Bao.

When Wan Bao heard that Sheng Quan was familiar with the characters in *The Road of Life*—and quite deeply at that—he felt a sudden sense of clarity. "Are you a fan of the book?" he asked.

That explained it. A wealthy individual investor appearing out of nowhere? If she was a fan who wanted to invest in the adaptation after reading the book, it all made sense.

A wealthy female fan—he got it.

Sure, he’d never seen one as young and beautiful as Sheng Quan before, but that wasn’t important. What mattered was that she had money.

Sheng Quan was happy to let Wan Bao misunderstand. "You could say that. I particularly like the character Qin Heng. I heard your team hasn’t finalized the actor for that role yet?"

Wan Bao immediately perked up, sensing where this was going. "That’s right. We had someone lined up, but there were some scheduling conflicts, so the role is currently open."

It was common for investors to recommend actors for roles. The quality of the role usually depended on how much money the investor was willing to put in and how influential or strong-willed the director was.

Wan Bao, who was currently so broke that all he had left was equipment, was well aware of his situation. In the past, he had been against the idea of actors being brought in through investments, but after being beaten down by reality, he had shifted from "I’d rather not take the money if it means compromising the project" to "As long as it doesn’t mess with the main plot, you could send a dog to play a cat, and I’d be fine with it."

Qin Heng’s role was one of those that could attract a lot of fans if done well, but even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t ruin the viewing experience. It could add value if executed properly, but if not, it wouldn’t make much of a difference.

Why was Wan Bao so clear on this? Because the actor originally lined up for Qin Heng had been recommended by an investor. When that investor pulled out, the actor left too, leaving the role vacant.

Sheng Quan asking about Qin Heng was a much better scenario than Wan Bao had feared. After all, he’d already "sold" the role once; selling it a second time didn’t weigh on his conscience at all.

Wan Bao immediately took the initiative. "Does Miss Sheng have someone in mind?"

He didn’t even bother asking if she was sure about the investment. If she was recommending an actor, he was confident she’d follow through with the money.

"There is someone," Sheng Quan admitted.

She couldn’t help but marvel at how shrewd people in the entertainment industry were. She didn’t even have to bring it up—Wan Bao had handed her the opportunity on a silver platter.

She wasn’t one to beat around the bush. In the entertainment industry, money was king.

Sheng Quan set down the *Project Presentation Materials* she was holding and got straight to the point. "I’ll invest ten million. The specifics, including profit-sharing and rights, will be handled by my team. The condition is that I get to decide who plays Qin Heng. If you have no objections to that, we can proceed."

Wan Bao froze.

His mind was spinning with the words "ten million, ten million, ten million."

Ten million!!!!

To put this into perspective, the entertainment industry in this world was highly polarized when it came to investment amounts. Unlike the inflated budgets of Sheng Quan’s previous world, in *Starlight*, the industry was split between the cheap and the exorbitant, with prices directly tied to fame.

This applied to directors, actors, singers, composers—everyone.

Some projects were dirt cheap, while others were ridiculously expensive.

In this context, ten million was a formidable sum.

For a director like Wan Bao, leading an ordinary crew, managing to secure five million in funding would have been a stroke of incredible luck. Since most of the actors weren’t well-known and thus didn’t command high fees, four million would have been enough to cover the entire production.

Of course, Wan Bao wasn’t satisfied with just four million. The quality of this drama was high, and as everyone knew, improving the quality of a TV series required one thing above all else: money.

Beautiful cinematography, multiple takes, elaborate sets, custom costumes, hiring actors, crew, post-production, editing, dubbing, location scouting—it all cost money.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that every director’s dream was to have an unlimited budget once filming began.

Directors without money had no choice but to cut corners, and those like Wan Bao, who refused to compromise on quality, had to struggle relentlessly. Even the rights to the novel had been acquired because the book was relatively obscure—well-written but not a commercial hit.

And now! Sheng Quan was offering him ten million!!!

The investor who had pulled out had only put in four million!

"Miss Sheng, I’m willing, of course I’m willing. You can decide who plays Qin Heng. I’ll sign a Level Six contract with you. I—as long as you invest, I’m fine with anything…"

Wan Bao was so excited he could barely string his words together. This was the first time since graduating that he’d encountered such a massive investment, especially one that came as a lifeline. If he weren’t afraid of scaring Sheng Quan off, he’d have jumped up and kowtowed to her on the spot.

Having read the novel and done her research, Sheng Quan knew what Wan Bao meant by the highest-tier contract. In this world’s entertainment industry, investment contracts were divided into seven levels.

Each level increased in benefits and authority for the investor, with various subcategories. The higher the level, the more advantageous it was for the investor, while lower levels favored the production side.

Most investments only reached Level Four. From there, the higher the level, the more the investor stood to gain, and the lower, the more the production side benefited. Wan Bao offering Level Six outright showed just how serious he was.

While Sheng Quan did want to make money, she didn’t want to strip Wan Bao of too much control. Her investment was substantial by current standards, but fairly speaking, Level Five was already pushing it in her favor. Wan Bao was clearly trying to lock her in by offering such a lucrative deal.

Sheng Quan loved dealing with honest people like him, but she wasn’t the type to take advantage of their honesty. "Would it be possible to arrange an audition in the next few days?"

Wan Bao was first surprised that Sheng Quan hadn’t jumped at the Level Six offer, but her mention of an audition left him even more stunned.

He hesitated for a moment before asking softly, "Will the audition be open to the public?"

Some investors liked to go through the motions, holding auditions for roles they’d already decided on, just to make it seem like the chosen actor had fairly beaten out the competition.

Wan Bao didn’t say it out loud, but he wasn’t a fan of this practice. If the role was already decided, why invite other actors to audition? It was unfair to those who prepared diligently, only to find out they never stood a chance.

Fortunately, this new, incredibly generous investor didn’t seem to enjoy toying with people. She replied naturally, "No, it’s just for him."

"While I think he’s a good fit for the role, we won’t know for sure until he auditions, right, Director Wan?"

Though Wan Bao’s internal monologue was more along the lines of *"Ten million! Even if he’s not suitable, I’ll praise him until he’s perfect!"* he quickly agreed, "Absolutely, that’s exactly what I think. We’ll give him a fair shot, no problem with an audition."

Sheng Quan didn’t pick up on Wan Bao’s inner turmoil. Despite all her preparation and feeling confident about the outcome, she was still in a good mood now that things had gone so smoothly.

Next, all she needed was to coordinate with the hotel to assemble a professional negotiation team.

Money wasn’t an issue this time. Since the investment in *The Road of Life* was meant to "support" Yan Hui and help him secure the role, all related expenses could be covered by the system’s funds.

Sheng Quan made a few phone calls and signed a few checks, and by the next day, she had secured a contract filled with sincerity.

Having traveled through time for so many days, this was the first time she felt the joy of spending money lavishly. Back when she used to read stories about the ultra-rich, she thought ten million wasn’t much, but now that she had her own system, she truly realized just how massive that amount of money was—and the feeling of spending it was... absolutely exhilarating!

As the one who had received this fortune, Wan Bao was even more eager than her to finalize everything. By the time everything was settled, this chubby, bearded director in his early thirties, who looked like he was in his forties, was practically ready to take off.

Holding the contract that had been signed at lightning speed, he was completely immersed in the euphoric emotion of, "Ah~ I'm so happy I could faint," unable to snap out of it.

At a time when no one believed in him, when he was at his most desperate, Sheng Quan had descended like a fairy from the heavens, believing in his talent, recognizing his abilities, and giving him such a massive sum of money. Wan Bao was so overwhelmed with gratitude that he could barely contain it. He felt like swearing to the heavens that he would pour his heart and soul into making this TV series, ensuring it would shine in its most perfect form, so as to repay Sheng Quan, his investor, with substantial profits.

"I will definitely make this series well. Thank you, truly, thank you so much..."

Sheng Quan sent off the sleep-deprived, dark-eyed but highly energetic Director Wan, who kept expressing his loyalty to her every now and then. Once he left, she immediately had her driver take her to buy a new phone.

She was using the system's funds. Presumably, the system was worried she might run out of lifespan before she could even get the returns. For her first task, the system had given her a generous beginner's package—a whopping twelve million. After deducting the ten million and various other expenses, she still had over a million left, which was nothing to scoff at.

When she was broke, she didn’t have much to spend on, but now that her card was loaded, Sheng Quan naturally wanted to splurge.

When Sheng Quan bought the phone, the system raised a slight objection. After all, according to the rules, until she received the returns, the money could only be used for matters related to the person she was funding.

She had a solid reason: 【I need the phone to contact Director Wan and discuss the auditions for the person I’m funding. Tell me, how am I supposed to follow up without a phone? Right?】

The system: ...That seems reasonable.

Then Sheng Quan bought a computer: 【This computer will let me receive emails from Director Wan. Everyone uses email for work these days. It’s totally reasonable.】

The system: ...I guess that makes sense too.

And so, Sheng Quan went on a shopping spree, happily buying one thing after another all afternoon. She ended up with a pile of beautiful clothes, shoes, bags, and jewelry—all for when she would meet Yan Hui.

The system watched and grew anxious: 【Host, friendly reminder, you only have one month of lifespan left.】

【No rush.】 Sheng Quan was calm. Since she had spent days understanding the situation and laying the groundwork, she was fully prepared: 【Thirty days might be tight in other industries, but in the entertainment industry, it’s more than enough. Similarly, in other industries, you might need to hurry, but in the entertainment world, rushing won’t speed things up.】

Just the filming and release of a TV series alone would take a long time.

After picking out her bags and clothes, Sheng Quan looked at her long hair in the mirror. Ever since she stopped staying up late, her hair seemed to have gained more shine—though it might also be thanks to the expensive conditioner and hair oil in the hotel.

Since she had all these, it would be rude not to get her hair done. After all, a good hairstyle is perfect for discussing collaborations, and a well-dressed investor would definitely boost the morale of the crew.

Sheng Quan: 【006, isn’t this reasonable?】

The system: 【...Reasonable.】

Sheng Quan smiled and praised it: 【Our 006 is getting smarter and smarter.】

This was the first time the system had been praised. After all, it had only been born less than a month ago. Hearing Sheng Quan’s cheerful tone, it even felt a slight sense of shyness. It quickly pushed aside its minor objections and even enthusiastically offered advice:

【Host, buy these shoes. They look great.】

While Sheng Quan was happily shopping and successfully winning over the system, Yan Hui, who was busy working at a construction site, exhausted, received a call notifying him of an audition.

He was stunned for a full two seconds. After confirming the details of the production team and the time and location of the audition, he calmly hung up the phone.

The audition was in Wuzhou, as the crew was filming there, and all the crew members were stationed there, so naturally, the audition would be held there as well.

That night, Yan Hui sat in his room, lost in thought for a long time.

It would take two and a half hours to fly from Wuzhou to Shanghai, and even longer by train. For him, this would be a trip that would disrupt his current work and drain his wallet.

Yan Hui didn’t think the distance was the production team’s fault. After all, many auditions were like this, and not every production team held auditions in the same location. Actors who wanted a role had to find a way to get there themselves.

In the past, he would have gone without hesitation, but now...

Yan Hui looked down at the phone in his hand, where he had written down the address. His slender fingers tightened around it, as if holding onto the acting career he had loved and pursued since he was a child.

For some reason, he thought of the young woman who had handed him the pen and paper with a smile that day.

Her gaze had been filled with admiration. Though their interaction had been brief, Yan Hui could tell that she genuinely believed he deserved this audition opportunity.

If Director Wan knew that Yan Hui was hesitating because of the distance, he would have felt extremely wronged. From his perspective, as long as Yan Hui showed up for the audition, he would definitely get the role. He could arrive that day and stay with the crew immediately.

How could he have known that the wealthy investor behind the production team hadn’t communicated this to Yan Hui?

The system, however, had predicted this: 【Host, what if Yan Hui decides not to go because it’s too far?】

【He’ll go.】 Sheng Quan was happily trying on new clothes in front of the mirror. After a whole day of shopping, she showed no signs of fatigue and was glowing with energy.

She smiled at her reflection, showing none of the anxiety one might expect from someone with only thirty days left to live: 【If someone wants to succeed in their career, it’s not enough for me to just throw money at them. They still have to put in the effort and make the choices themselves.】

【What I want isn’t just a short-term extension of my life. Sure, I could push him up now, but how long would he last? Achievements have to be earned step by step to truly belong to someone. Besides, I’m a fan of the novel.】

If Yan Hui, with his gentle exterior, didn’t have even a hint of edge, how could he have won over so many readers?

After picking out her outfit, Sheng Quan picked up her new bag. She used to think spending over a hundred thousand on a bag was a waste, but now that she had the means: a hundred-thousand-dollar bag really does look amazing~

【Alright, let’s go too.】

The system was puzzled: 【Where to?】

Sheng Quan opened the door: 【Of course, to the audition. As the big investor, I should go take a look at the production team, show off a little... I mean, broaden my horizons~】