Today is Tuesday, March 25.
It's the day after the 69th Academy Awards, but the media's focus has shifted away from the usual post-Oscars coverage to yesterday's collapse of the NASDAQ index.
When Simon boarded the plane, it was not yet 9 a.m. on the West Coast, while it was already noon on the East Coast.
The U.S. stock market opened today, but no miracle occurred. Following yesterday's 7.9% drop that triggered the first circuit breaker in NASDAQ's history, the index continued to plummet during the two-and-a-half-hour trading session this morning, with losses exceeding 5% at one point, hitting a low of 6,079 points.
A nearly 1,000-point drop in just two days, with a cumulative decline of over 14%, set a record for the NASDAQ's largest-ever drop.
Apart from the few remaining short sellers in tech stocks who managed to profit, the crash has harmed almost everyone. As a result, Wall Street, Silicon Valley, and Washington have all been making every effort to stabilize the market.
This morning, Microsoft, the company that triggered this crash, released its first-quarter growth forecast for its data center business ahead of schedule, hoping to stem the tide.
After all, when one falls, all fall. Microsoft's press release even received front-page coverage on the Egret Portal.
New tech industry leaders like Tim Berners-Lee, Jeff Bezos, John Chambers, and Steve Case also made appearances in the media, highlighting the booming internet industry and emphasizing its transformative impact on human society in recent years. They aimed to counter the narrative from traditional print media, which had long resented the new tech industry and seized this opportunity to denounce the internet bubble.
In Washington, the Federal Reserve reiterated that it had no plans to raise interest rates in the short term to boost confidence in the capital markets.
However, against such overwhelming momentum, these efforts proved futile.
Shortly after Simon boarded the plane, even the White House reached out. President Clinton tested the waters, suggesting Simon personally endorse the internet industry. Simon refused.
Because it was useless.
The NASDAQ this time had reached higher peaks than in 2000, and thus its collapse was destined to be even more dramatic.
Simon's endorsement couldn't change the outcome; it would only drag him into the mess.
After hanging up, Simon gave it some thought and sent a mass email to the heads of various companies, offering words of reassurance and urging them to focus on doing their jobs diligently rather than worrying too much about short-term stock price fluctuations.
Afterward, he spent over an hour dealing with various other matters before asking one of the assistants to call in Ren Jingxi.
He gestured for Ren Jingxi to sit on the sofa across from his desk. Without paying particular attention to her slightly swollen but reddened eyes, he continued reviewing a draft agreement for the Rivne Free Trade Zone in Ukraine and casually asked, "Have you read Qiong Yao's works?"
Ren Jingxi, noticing that Simon wasn't looking at her, relaxed slightly and nodded. "Yes."
"What do you think?"
"I really enjoyed some of her earlier works, like Outside the Window."
Simon made no comment and said, "Here's the situation: I've been expanding some media ventures in China. I originally planned to collaborate with Qiong Yao, but I didn't like any of the projects she proposed. I happen to have an idea of my own and was planning to find someone to develop it."
As the topic turned to work, Ren Jingxi gradually relaxed further. She looked up at Simon across the desk and listened attentively.
The truth of the matter could be summarized in one sentence: the famed My Fair Princess had been "butterflied away."
Simon had to search through his memories to piece together the general story. My Fair Princess was reportedly inspired by an idea Qiong Yao had while touring Beijing. She passed by the so-called "Princess Tomb" and came up with the concept, which evolved into a television phenomenon.
This time, however, it seemed there had been no such flash of inspiration.
Simon wasn't interested in Qiong Yao's other works. He had already been considering hiring a ghostwriter to recreate My Fair Princess. Meeting Ren Jingxi provided an opportunity to test things out.
After organizing his thoughts briefly, Simon continued, "Have you heard of a place in Beijing called Princess Tomb?"
Ren Jingxi shook her head.
She was from Shandong Province, went to university in Tianjin, and, after her mother's passing last year, spent the Chinese New Year with her family before officially starting her job. Since then, she had been traveling internationally for major fashion events and had barely spent any time in Beijing, aside from occasional visits to the courtyard house near Nanluoguxiang.
Princess Tomb, located in Beijing's western suburbs, was hardly a tourist attraction anymore, only noted on some road signs due to urban redevelopment.
"There are a few stories about Princess Tomb. I'll only mention one: it's said to be the burial site of an adopted daughter of Emperor Qianlong," Simon explained briefly before getting to the point. "The story begins here. Following Qiong Yao's romantic drama template, a dashing Emperor Qianlong, while traveling incognito, encounters a talented woman by a lake in Jinan—let's give her the surname Xia, Xia Yuhuo. They fall in love, and she pledges herself to him. Due to urgent matters at the border, Qianlong returns to Beijing, promising to bring her to the palace. However, consumed by affairs of state, he forgets about her. Xia Yuhuo, who gave birth to his daughter, Xia Ziwei, waits in vain for him until her death. Years later, her daughter travels to Beijing to seek recognition from her father…"
"…and, through a series of twists and turns, Xiao Yanzi is mistakenly identified as Qianlong's daughter and is granted the title My Fair Princess…"
Inside the private study on the plane, Simon paused at this point and looked up. He noticed Ren Jingxi's hesitant expression and asked, "Do you have a question?"
After a brief hesitation, Ren Jingxi spoke softly, "In the Qing Dynasty, the emperor's daughters were titled princesses, not 'gege' (fair princess). 'Gege' was a term for the daughters of princes or dukes, with specific prefixes based on rank."
Simon observed her cautious yet insistent demeanor, and, pretending to be displeased, narrowed his eyes at her in a mock authoritarian tone. "Are you correcting me?"
Ren Jingxi quickly shook her head, looking even more nervous as she lowered her gaze. "No, I'm not."
Her inner thoughts were filled with regret.
She had been startled by the realization that this man, who appeared entirely foreign, could effortlessly brainstorm a Chinese historical romance. Her initial surprise, coupled with a natural sense of pride, had led her to nitpick.
Now, she wished she could take it back.
For a foreigner to have such a grasp of Chinese culture was nothing short of genius. Any minor inaccuracies were entirely forgivable; she had no right to critique him so casually.
Simon saw her nearly shrinking into the sofa in front of him and, realizing his joke had genuinely scared her, tapped his desk lightly and said, "Come here."
Ren Jingxi stood up obediently and, upon his gesture, walked over to his side, apprehensively.
"Take off your coat and shoes," Simon instructed.
She hesitated briefly, blushing, but complied.
A moment later, Simon pulled her into his arms.
With one arm wrapped around her slender waist, her scent lingering in the air, Simon picked up his pen with his free hand and resumed reviewing the trade agreement draft on the desk. With a smirk, he asked, "Is your brain working a bit slower now?"
Ren Jingxi understood now that he had only been teasing her earlier.
But how could she fully understand his true nature?
It was a bit frightening.
Especially now… Still, when asked, she timidly murmured a soft "Mm."
She certainly wouldn't be pointing out any more mistakes. Her thoughts were too muddled to even try.
Satisfied, Simon continued outlining the story, spending a few minutes summarizing it. Then he asked, "What do you think?"
Ren Jingxi's face still carried a faint blush, but she was calmer now. "It's a great story."
"It should be described as a very Qiong Yao-esque story."
"Mm."
"Ah, Earthlings without original opinions."
"…"
"Did you just hear something you shouldn't have?"
"Mm."
"If you don't want me to silence you, forget it immediately."
"Mm."
"Alright, back to business. You said you wanted to work and seem to have a knack for writing. This seems like the right fit for you. But just being a screenwriter won't help you achieve certain ambitions. So, here's the deal: I'll give you 6 million—RMB, not dollars—to produce My Fair Princess. You'll act as the screenwriter and producer, assemble a team, oversee filming, and handle distribution. Complete this process, and you'll have officially entered the media industry. If you succeed, you'll have the foundation to become a top producer, earning everything you want. No more being just a pretty face by my side."
Hearing Simon's words, Ren Jingxi felt both excitement and apprehension. "I can probably write the story, but I don't know anything about screenwriting, let alone producing."
"You know what I admire most?"
"What?"
"Getting others to work for you," Simon replied. "The Westeros system is what it is today because I get other experts to handle what I don't understand. For this project, all you need to do is write the story. For the screenplay, hire professional screenwriters. For directing, casting, and everything else, hire the right people. If you have 6 million in your hands and still can't make it work, then you're better off staying by my side as a flower vase."
Ren Jingxi wanted to nod but hesitated and said, "But it shouldn't be that simple, right?"
Simon chuckled. "In the film and television industry, the easiest job is being a producer. The hardest job? Also being a producer. It's easy because anyone with money can produce their own film or show. It's hard because even if someone pours their heart and soul into a project, there's no guarantee it'll succeed in the market or win awards. For you, since you lack a foundation, you'll need to learn a lot as you go. To do well, you'll need to invest twice or three times the effort of a professional. And even then, there's no guarantee of success."
Ren Jingxi shrank back slightly, intimidated by the prospect.
Her main concern was failing.
Six million RMB was no small amount. Even just a few months ago, it was an unimaginable sum for her. But more importantly, this was Simon's own idea—a story conceived by a Hollywood mogul. If she messed it up, she wasn't sure she'd have the courage to continue staying by his side.
Simon waited for a response but, seeing her hesitation, glanced down at her expression. "Scared?"
Ren Jingxi nodded honestly. "I don't know anything; I'm sure I'd ruin it."
"Then it seems you don't understand your position—or your advantages."
"Huh?"
"I'm not just handing you a pile of money and leaving you to figure it out. This project will fall under Jinshu Media. Since you've been around Momo, you should know about that company, right?"
"Yes."
The film Keep Cool, directed by Zhang Yimou and starring Zhu Momo, had been produced by Jinshu Media.
"So, once you take over, Jinshu Media's team will be there to help you with whatever you need. For anything you don't understand, you can consult experts. In fact, if you want to slack off, you could just manage the budget and let Jinshu Media handle everything."
"Then… why are you asking me to do it?"
Ren Jingxi blurted this out and immediately regretted it.
Wasn't the answer obvious?
Simon pinched her lightly on the side and smirked. "Because you're my woman, and you want to work. That's why I'm giving you this opportunity. Many people go their entire lives without such a chance. So, think about how lucky you are to have met me. Remember to be grateful every night before bed."
"Mm."
"Alright, back to the point. Jinshu Media's platform is just one aspect. The most important factor is that you're my woman. This means not only in Hollywood but also in China's film and TV circles, people will show you respect and provide help and resources. This is your biggest asset, a resource as vast as the sky. As long as people know you're mine, even if you're completely clueless, many will bend over backward to assist you in hopes of earning my favor."
Ren Jingxi was momentarily speechless.
Simon finished jotting down notes on the Rivne Free Trade Zone agreement. After giving her a moment to process, he asked again, "How do you feel now?"
Ren Jingxi made up her mind. "I want to take this job."
"Good."
She hesitated for a moment before cautiously asking, "But, um, will 6 million really be enough?"
Not being familiar with the industry, she now realized that filmmaking might be very expensive.
"CCTV's Water Margin costs an average of 1 million RMB per episode, and that's a national-level production. My Fair Princess will be around 20 episodes, with an average cost of 300,000 RMB per episode. What do you think?"
Ren Jingxi looked up at him. "I don't know. Can you teach me?"
"What I can teach you is this: as a producer, cost control is an essential skill. Take films, for example. If two movies each earn $100 million at the box office, but one costs $10 million to make while the other costs $100 million, the first is a massive success, while the second is a failure. Cost control requires a producer to have a comprehensive understanding of expenses. For instance, if you manage to wrap up a scene in two days instead of three, you save a day's worth of expenses. A film crew can easily burn through tens of thousands in a single day. Added up, the savings are significant. You'll also need to hire actors within your budget. For My Fair Princess, with a budget of 6 million, you'll need to prioritize newcomers or well-known actors going through a rough patch whose fees are lower. As for locations, props, and so on, you'll need to research standard costs to negotiate the best deals. If you're clueless about prices, people will overcharge you two or three times—or even tenfold. Why wouldn't they?"
Ren Jingxi's eyes widened. "Tenfold? Is that even possible?"
"Why not?" Simon gestured around. "Take this Boeing 767. If you wanted to rent one for a film, how much do you think it would cost?"
She shook her head.
"That's the problem," Simon explained. "Here in the West, aircraft rental rates are transparent. But if it's something else and you don't know the market rate, someone could charge you ten times as much, and you'd think it was fair."
"How am I supposed to figure out these costs?"
"Ask someone who knows," Simon said. "Which brings us back to the importance of connections. These are resources you'll have at your disposal. The question is whether you're willing—and able—to use them."
Ren Jingxi nodded earnestly. "I'll make good use of them."
Simon raised a hand and traced his finger along her delicate jawline. "But remember, there's no such thing as a free lunch. One of my principles is that you only get as much as you give. Put another way, if you seek help from others, you must repay their kindness at an appropriate time in the future. Relationships should be reciprocal—give and take. If you only take advantage of people, you'll eventually find yourself without friends. On the other hand, you also can't always be the one losing out, or you'll attract opportunists looking to exploit you."
Ren Jingxi felt overwhelmed by his layered reasoning but refrained from complaining. She nodded solemnly once again.
Her once-sheltered life in the ivory tower had been shattered by last year's family crisis. In pursuit of the security she desperately craved, she had set aside her pride and dignity—even going so far as to seduce a man. Given that, there probably weren't many challenges left in the world that she couldn't face.
As their conversation deepened, she became increasingly aware of how valuable Simon's guidance was. She continued asking questions, one after another, until Simon received a phone call she wasn't allowed to overhear. She excused herself and only then realized she had been sitting in his lap for over an hour.
Retreating to the adjacent lounge to process their discussion, she waited until his call was over before knocking on the door again.
Simon was typing something on his computer. He glanced at her as she entered but, noticing her approach, smirked and shooed her away. "That's enough for now. You're not paying me consulting fees, so ask someone else if you have more questions."
She stopped in her tracks.
After a moment of hesitation, she mustered the courage to say, "Don't you want to rest? I mean, there's a bedroom on the plane, right?"
"Yes."
"Then…"
They had agreed earlier that after landing in New York, she would rest for the night before flying back to China the next day. She planned to spend two months completing the story and preparing for production.
Simon had also made it clear that he wouldn't be accompanying her tonight.
Simon looked up at her, shook his head, and said, "Not this time. We're only about an hour from New York."
"…"
Ren Jingxi's cheeks flushed as she silently thought to herself: Just an hour? Does he think he's some kind of god?
Simon noticed her fiddling nervously with her hands and added, half-jokingly, "I'm someone who values quality in certain matters. An hour just isn't enough."
Still reluctant, she asked softly, "Then… are you really busy tonight? I mean, I can wait. It's okay if it's later."
"I really can't."
After a brief pause, she cautiously probed, "Are you… going to be with someone else?"
"Yes."
"I see." After saying this, she stood there for a while. Simon didn't say anything further, and she began to feel like she had overstepped by asking an inappropriate question. She quickly added, "Would you like me to prepare something for you to eat? Or maybe a drink?"
"Just make a fruit platter."
"Okay."
Hearing his response, she finally relaxed and quickly agreed. She didn't dare linger any longer and obediently left to prepare it.
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