"Hello, I'm Shinozaki Ikumi from the Production Department. Nice to meet you, Mr. Su Yan."
Shinozaki Ikumi stood up and extended her hand toward Su Yan.
"Hello, I'm Su Yan from the Screenwriting Department."
Su Yan also reached out and shook her hand.
The two sat down.
"The reason I came to see you, Mr. Su Yan—you've probably already guessed it," said Shinozaki Ikumi, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and getting straight to the point.
"Mr. Su Yan, I'm very interested in the script for 'Rurouni Kenshin', so I came specifically to learn more about it."
Su Yan paused when he heard this.
From the original host's memories, he naturally knew what kind of producer Shinozaki Ikumi was.
A project flopping wasn't a big deal, but producing a drama that got brutally mocked online for "lowering viewers' IQ," and getting turned into meme edits that were ten times more popular than the show itself—now that was rare.
It was just like director Chen Kaige's movie 'The Promise' in his previous life, where the parody video 'A Murder Caused by a Steamed Bun' became more famous than the movie itself, turning Chen Kaige into a running joke in the film industry.
Shinozaki had produced a drama called 'Sakura Island Love Song', which was in a similar situation.
Thinking of this, Su Yan responded.
"What would you like to know, Miss Shinozaki?"
"Have you already mapped out all the later episodes of 'Rurouni Kenshin'?" she asked.
"Yes, I have," Su Yan nodded.
"Have you written the last two episodes of 'Rurouni Kenshin'? I'm really optimistic about this project, but I need to understand how the story unfolds before I can make a final decision."
Shinozaki looked straight at Su Yan.
Just from the first two episodes of 'Rurouni Kenshin', the script was impressive.
Whether it was the character development or the plot, the cruelty of that era and the characters' inner struggles hit hard.
But you can't judge a script based solely on its beginning.
Just like her last project, 'Sakura Island Love Song'. The early episodes were solid, too—otherwise, she wouldn't have chosen it for the winter season in January.
But during the online broadcast, the screenwriter's wife cheated on him, which sent the latter half of the script spiraling into nonsense.
On top of that, the director got roasted online for the bizarre direction the story took, severely affecting his already mediocre directing skills.
Of course, none of that was an excuse. She had chosen the screenwriter and the director, so when the project tanked and got dragged by the internet, she was the one ultimately responsible.
Having taken that hit, Shinozaki didn't want to repeat the same mistake.
For a season-long series with a dozen episodes, it wasn't realistic to demand the entire script upfront, since the industry in Xia Nation typically developed scripts based on market response as the show aired.
But for a four-episode miniseries like this, she wanted to see the full script before making a decision.
Her mother's old contacts at the network could only back her through one more failure.
At the very least, she wanted to make sure that a project this important to her was one she genuinely liked and believed in from the script stage.
"Of course, I brought the last two episodes of 'Rurouni Kenshin' with me. Please take a look, Miss Shinozaki."
Unaware of the struggle going on in her heart, Su Yan handed her the file folder he had been holding.
Shinozaki's eyes lit up. She accepted the script and said:
"Please give me a moment."
Su Yan sat opposite her, quietly observing her as she read.
While she was immersed in the script, he was thinking about several things.
First, the last two episodes of 'Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal Arc' were absolutely solid.
If the first two chapters deserved a score of 100, then the final two easily scored 1,000.
Especially Chapter 4, 'The Cross-Shaped Wound'. The ending elevated the entire series. It was heartbreakingly tragic, but not in a way that felt forced—like it was sad just for the sake of being sad.
Because Yukishiro Tomoe's death meant something.
She was the one who turned Kenshin from a boy into a man, who gave him a sense of purpose in life.
She was a crucial pillar in Himura Kenshin's character development in the original manga.
'The Trust & Betrayal' Arc was also the most iconic in 'Rurouni Kenshin', a manga with massive historical impact in Japan.
So now, the question was—should he work with Shinozaki Ikumi?
Besides her, would there be any other better producers at the network interested in the script?
If he turned her down now and no one else came knocking, then what?
But just as those doubts started to cloud his thoughts, Su Yan paused.
Because he noticed the woman across from him—Shinozaki Ikumi—her eyes had turned red, and tears were brimming in them.
She had reached the end of the script.
Come on… isn't this a bit much? You're in your twenties—your empathy's too strong, don't you think?
The room fell into an awkward silence.
Thankfully, Shinozaki kept her composure. She didn't break down—instead, after rereading the final scenes of 'Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal', she tilted her head back and forced the tears back down.
"Su Yan-sensei, with your ability, how did it take two years as an intern before you became a full-fledged screenwriter?"
After taking two minutes to compose herself, she asked a completely unexpected question.
Also, her way of addressing him had changed.
From "Mr. Su Yan" to "Su Yan-sensei."
"Maybe because I was just a really good intern," Su Yan joked.
"They didn't want to let me go, so they kept me as an intern as long as possible."
In truth, the original Su Yan was just average in both talent and learning ability, which was why he had to study under his mentor, Teruhiro Sawai, for so long.
"Then I believe you'll definitely become an outstanding full-time screenwriter."
Shinozaki Ikumi stood up, took a deep breath, and spoke sincerely.
She had already been very interested in the Kenshin script.
Now that she had finished reading the final two episodes, all of her doubts vanished.
If even a script she loved this much couldn't become a hit, then fine—she'd accept that it was her problem.
That her taste just didn't match the market.
She bowed slightly to Su Yan and extended her hand again, eyes now extremely serious.
"I hope we can work together, Su Yan-sensei—to make 'Rurouni Kenshin' into a truly great drama in the history of Xia Country television."
Just like in romance, the one who confesses first is at a disadvantage.
Same with partnerships—the one who asks first gives up the upper hand.
Shinozaki knew this well. Right now, the decision was in Su Yan's hands. He could say no.
"Um… can I ask you something? When you read the ending, how did you feel? What's your honest opinion of 'Rurouni Kenshin'?"
Su Yan didn't respond right away. After thinking for a moment, he asked out of curiosity.
"Be honest, no matter what you say, I won't be upset. But I do hope you won't lie—because that will affect whether or not I choose to work with you."
Su Yan locked eyes with her, and the pressure made her uneasy.
She had heard that some screenwriters studied all kinds of subjects for research, like crime fiction writers diving into criminal psychology.
Also, people who lie often give off subconscious cues.
Not knowing Su Yan well, Shinozaki didn't dare risk it. She took a deep breath and answered truthfully.
"I think the screenwriter for 'Rurouni Kenshin' is a cold-blooded snake—must've been kicked in the head by a donkey to come up with a story this tragic."
"But… I really love this story. Even ten or twenty years from now, I don't think I'll forget it—or forget Himura Kenshin and Yukishiro Tomoe."
She finished speaking, clearly nervous.
But she had spoken from the heart.
A smile appeared on Su Yan's face.
Alright—she's one of us.
The kind of person who yells at depressing stories and the creators behind them—but still feels deeply moved by them.
The kind of person who says they love happy endings and pure romances, but keeps seeking out tearjerkers.
Because people like that understand—the most powerful emotions in storytelling come at the very moment something beautiful is destroyed.
That's why Su Yan had always loved heartbreaking stories in his past life.
"You're just like me. I feel the same way," Su Yan said with a smile.
Shinozaki looked confused by his reaction.
But Su Yan could tell—she truly loved the script of 'Rurouni Kenshin'. That was all that mattered.
As for scolding the screenwriter—what did that have to do with him?
The original creator of the 'Trust & Betrayal Arc' was Nobuhiro Watsuki.
As long as she wanted to make the show out of genuine love for the story, she'd give it her all.
There was no point in worrying about whether another producer might come along.
The future was unpredictable—but the opportunity right in front of him? Su Yan was sure he could grab it.
He reached out and shook her hand.
"If the script for 'Rurouni Kenshin' gets greenlit and funded by the station, then... let's work well together."
"You can count on me. I'll do everything I can to make that happen," Shinozaki said seriously, taking a deep breath.