Compared to her previous life, Laila had brought about significant progress in this world.
From the evolution of cinema to visual effects, and most notably, her efforts in promoting Eastern culture, her influence was undeniable.
And the rewards she received? Abundant.
To name just one example, her cinema chain in the East alone was enough to ensure she could live in luxury for generations. Every location the theaters stood on was her own real estate. If she ever sold those properties, the windfall would be astronomical.
But she didn't stop there.
Utilizing marketing strategies from her previous life, she had built an entire commercial ecosystem around her cinemas—turning them into hubs that fed not only the film industry but retail, food, and lifestyle sectors.
Whenever possible, she instructed her subordinates to expand the footprint—meaning that in many cases, the shops surrounding her theaters were also owned by her. They rented the space from her company.
At first, her subordinates thought she was being extravagant—buying buildings outright or even purchasing land to construct entirely new complexes just to open cinemas.
But now, seeing how real estate prices had skyrocketed in the East, her early "extravagance" looked like unmatched foresight.
Still, for Laila, making money was never the main goal.
Her true contribution was in jumpstarting the golden age of Eastern cinema—years ahead of schedule.
With more theaters and better viewing experiences, more people were drawn to cinemas.
Higher box office numbers encouraged more film investments.
The East had never lacked talent—what it lacked was funding.
Take her past self, for example.
Laila had always been talented. If she'd had access to enough capital and a real opportunity, she would've used her skill to build a cinematic empire.
But in her past life, she had no money and no mentor who recognized her worth.
So before her rebirth, she'd been stuck shooting commercials and dramas she didn't even like.
But now?
Thanks to booming box office numbers, the entire industry had surged forward—and countless talented newcomers (many of whom she'd never even heard of in her previous life) were emerging onto the global stage.
Recently, Laila had heard about a few promising young Eastern filmmakers who'd started making waves internationally and even picked up some awards.
Just as she was immersed in Silent's promotions, her phone rang.
"Director Moran… I have a bit of an inappropriate request…"
The call was from Fu Chuan, a senior executive in charge of her Eastern theater chain.
Laila remembered him well—during the initial hiring phase, he had left a lasting impression with his clear thinking and strategic vision.
And now, he was calling to recommend a film.
As he spoke, Fu Chuan's voice was tinged with nervousness.
He knew he was likely overstepping, but if he didn't make the call, he might regret it for the rest of his life.
"I have a friend—a very, very close one. He's always loved filming, carrying a DV cam around ever since he was a kid. He's clever—always coming up with weird and wonderful ideas. His dream has always been to become a director and make great movies. You're his idol. He's always wanted to learn from you."
Laila listened to him ramble without getting to the point and couldn't help but laugh.
"So… what, he wants to join my program? That's easy enough. I just need to see his work. If he has potential, we can bring him into the Rising Stars Initiative. He'll learn plenty there."
Fu Chuan was in his early 30s, so it was safe to assume his friend was around the same age.
In the film industry, which was still considered very young, there would be no issue with his joining the program.
Right now, across Hollywood—and honestly, the entire global film community—young creatives' dream was to get into Laila's Rising Stars Initiative.
Over the years, that program has launched dozens of successful directors, actors, screenwriters, and professionals in all aspects of filmmaking.
The company didn't skimp on funding.
Trainees grew rapidly in that competitive, collaborative environment.
Even those who didn't stay with Laila's company afterward were universally grateful to her for the opportunity she had provided.
In fact, the Initiative had become so successful that now, anyone looking to break into film would try to apply.
Everyone knew—if you debuted through her platform, your chances of making it would skyrocket.
But Laila's program couldn't possibly accept every talented person in the world.
As time went on, the application process became increasingly strict.
Originally, Laila personally reviewed all submissions.
But as her schedule became more overwhelming, she delegated the task to trusted staff—only reviewing candidates they flagged as exceptional.
Of course, not everyone had her eye for talent—or the benefit of reincarnation.
So yes, some gems slipped through the cracks. But that was inevitable.
Still, the fact that she was even willing to take a look was already a huge favor.
And for someone like Fu Chuan, who had worked hard to make a lot of money, she was more than happy to offer a little benefit in return.
"Not exactly," Fu Chuan replied, wiping sweat from his brow even though she couldn't see him. "Of course, joining your company would be an incredible honor… but he's already shot a film. It even won a small award at an international film festival. I wanted to ask if… if you might be willing to help distribute it."
Laila understood immediately.
"You want to release it here in the U.S.?"
"Yes! Exactly!"
Fu Chuan felt like he had used up every ounce of courage he'd ever had.
After all, the woman on the other end of the line was Laila Moran—his boss, yes, but also a global icon.
Pulling strings like this? What if she got offended and fired him on the spot?
But Laila had an Eastern soul—she understood how the relationship-based culture worked in the East.
She wasn't opposed to "pulling strings," per se.
Even in the West, there were times when connections mattered.
Better to do a favor for a loyal subordinate than fake niceties with someone she didn't know.
Of course, she wasn't reckless.
If the recommendation turned out to be terrible, she wouldn't go easy on it. She wasn't about to ruin her own brand for anyone's sake.
"Distributing the film here won't be hard," she said calmly. "We've got plenty of experience with that. But I'll need to watch the finished film first before making a decision. You know—I want to make my company the most respected film studio in all of Hollywood."
"I understand! Thank you so much! I'll send the finished cut to your email right away!"
Fu Chuan was stunned at how agreeable she was.
He'd expected rejection—especially since other distributors had refused to even watch his friend's film.
Why? Because his friend was a nobody, a newcomer.