Liu Neng had been working at Jinhui Television Station for nearly twenty years since graduating from university. But being a quiet, low-profile man with few connections, he had never climbed very high within the organization. Producing a show? That had always been a pipe dream—at best, he served as someone's assistant. If nothing unexpected happened, he'd likely retire with that same humble title.
Still, after so many years in the Production Department, Liu Neng knew exactly what a producer should do—how to organize operations, who to call, how to keep things running. He might not have powerful connections, but he had the experience.
That's exactly why Chu You chose him to assist Jing Yu.
To put it bluntly, Chu You wasn't expecting this two-week short drama of Jing Yu's to go viral. But at the very least, he didn't want it to become an industry laughingstock. Jing Yu could be a young, inexperienced rookie—but Liu Neng was not going to let anyone on this crew go rogue.
While Jing Yu was asleep for the night, Liu Neng was still on set, organizing the locations as dictated by the script.
Normally, no producer would be working on-site overnight like this. But they were short on staff. It was like running a street BBQ stall—he was the boss, the chef, the waiter, and the cashier. But Liu Neng was used to it.
After all, if this weren't some throwaway short drama, there's no way he'd have been given the producer title in the first place.
He didn't sleep a wink. But despite the exhaustion, he kept everything moving like clockwork, managing every detail. The best part? No one was standing over his head. He hadn't felt this free in years.
By morning, Jing Yu arrived at the set. 'My Tomorrow, Your Yesterday' wasn't a grand production. Most of the scenes were in rented apartments, movie theaters, amusement parks—your typical rom-com fare. Liu Neng handled it all smoothly. He only needed to glance at the scene list to know exactly which contacts to call for setup.
Jing Yu and Gao Wencang met up with him at dawn.
"Thanks for the hard work, Mr. Liu. Let me do the introductions. This is Director Gao Wencang, and this is the producer for 'My Tomorrow, Your Yesterday', Mr. Liu Neng."
"Pleasure to meet you, Director Gao."
"Likewise, Producer Liu."
The three exchanged polite greetings.
Liu Neng lit a cigarette. The meeting room was quickly enveloped in smoke.
Half an hour later, Liu Neng had a solid understanding of Jing Yu's production plan.
"So you're planning to play the male lead yourself, Mr. Jing?"
He looked again at the script on the table.
He'd studied it thoroughly overnight. To be honest, he found himself a bit moved. It really was his kind of story.
But whether a drama became popular had nothing to do with whether he liked it. It was all about the audience.
Some big-budget dramas had everyone convinced they'd be smash hits—only to crash and burn so hard they became cautionary tales.
"That's right," Jing Yu said with calm confidence. "We're short on time. We can't afford mistakes. Rather than gamble on some agency actor I don't know, I'd rather take the role myself. I know exactly how this character is supposed to be portrayed."
Liu Neng nodded. He didn't argue—Jing Yu was the writer, and he had the right to make that decision.
"And the female lead—Song Xin, from our station, correct?"
"Yes. I told her to arrive at 9:00 a.m. It's still twenty minutes away."
"Then everything's good. Equipment, crew, set prep—everything's arranged. Once she arrives, we can begin."
When he said "arranged," he really meant "on-the-fly." No one could perfectly plan every detail of a 14-day production in just 48 hours. But what Liu Neng meant was: as long as they followed the schedule, he wouldn't be the bottleneck.
He was actually impressed that Jing Yu had finished a script like this in just two days. Even top-tier writers at the station often cracked under the pressure of weekly deadlines—some had producers and directors waiting in their living rooms for hours just to get the next scene.
But Jing Yu, with no assistant and no support, had delivered a completed script? That was pretty wild.
It must've been an old idea he'd polished up for this opportunity.
Time ticked by.
Nine o'clock sharp arrived.
The meeting room was now thick with cigarette smoke—Liu Neng alone had smoked enough for a whole boardroom.
"She's late," Liu Neng said calmly.
In today's production structure, the director, producer, and writer are the top-tier decision-makers. A gold-standard writer could command the entire crew—including the director and producer.
But actors?
Sure, the stars might earn more than anyone else—but that didn't mean they held more power. It's like a tax auditor earning a modest salary walking into a billion-dollar company—everyone still has to smile and be polite.
Even a lead actor—keeping three top-level crew members waiting?
And this wasn't some major production. Song Xin wasn't a household name. She was just third billing in White Lovers.
Jing Yu's brow furrowed slightly.
He had a bad feeling.
He picked up his phone, hesitated for a moment, then dialed Song Xin.
"Hello?" Her voice was still sweet and pleasant.
"Song Xin, you're late." His voice remained calm.
"…"
There was a short pause.
"I'm sorry, Jing Yu…"
His heart sank instantly.
"It's the White Lovers crew," she continued. "There are some scenes that need reshooting. I thought I'd be free for these next two weeks, but… now…"
"I don't think I can join your production anymore."
The line went quiet for thirty seconds.
"…I see." Jing Yu finally broke the silence, exhaling slowly.
He kept his voice steady, suppressing the frustration building in his chest.
"I hope you won't regret this."
He hung up.
He'd been played.
What were the odds?
Yesterday, she said she had time. Today, suddenly, she had reshoots?
If that were true, White Lovers would've informed her days in advance.
She'd planned this the moment he called her.
And the worst part?
He couldn't even report her to the station.
'My Tomorrow, Your Yesterday' was a filler project, born from the delays in White Lovers. If Song Xin had to pick one, the station would absolutely back her choice.
She knew that—so she had no fear.
And now, Jing Yu was in serious trouble.
The original 'My Tomorrow, Your Yesterday' had been a Japanese film adapted from a manga. Jing Yu had written the script based on that movie structure, then split it into two episodes for airing.
In his previous life, Wong Jing's Eagle Shooting Heroes took 27 days to film. The iconic crime drama The Mission was shot in 19. Stephen Chow's All's Well That Ends Well took 13. Jet Li's Kung Fu Cult Master? Just 7 days.
But those were rare exceptions.
In reality, drama production was chaotic and time-consuming.
With Song Xin bailing, today's shooting was dead in the water.
Even if he found a new lead actress today, the soonest she could be on set would be tomorrow. If things didn't go smoothly, maybe a day or two later.
He had only two weeks.
Losing even two or three days meant wasting a huge portion of that time—and the final product would suffer for it.
All from a single verbal promise.
And the worst part?
Song Xin got nothing out of this. Even though they'd broken up, the body's original owner had ended things with her peacefully.
But this kind of petty, vindictive sabotage…
Jiang Shiqing!
Jing Yu sighed heavily. That man's face appeared vividly in his mind.
He hadn't planned to inherit the original body's grudges. He'd been treating everything from the past like scenes from a movie. Otherwise, he wouldn't have invited Song Xin to be the lead in the first place.
In his mind, if he ever got a chance to get even with Jiang Shiqing, sure, he'd take it. But making revenge his life goal? Not worth it.
As long as Jiang Shiqing didn't cross any lines, Jing Yu didn't plan to go after him.
But now…
Now it was clear: Jiang Shiqing wasn't done playing dirty.
The tampering with the contract had been his doing. Now this.
The only person with the influence to sway Song Xin like this... was him.
Jing Yu looked up and met the eyes of the slightly nervous Gao Wencang and the composed Liu Neng.
"…I'm sorry. This was my mistake."
He began with an apology to his team.
Then—
Images of Song Xin and Jiang Shiqing flashed through his mind.
The past might've belonged to the original owner of this body.
But now?
This was his battle.
In a residential complex in Lancheng, Jiang Shiqing watched as Song Xin ended her call.
A smug smile tugged at his lips.
"What did he say?"
"He told me, 'I hope you won't regret it,'" Song Xin replied.
"He really thinks that backup drama of his is something to brag about? 'Hope you won't regret it'? What is he, twelve? Who says stuff like that anymore?"
Jiang Shiqing had always envied Jing Yu—better-looking, a cushy job thanks to his dad at the station. Meanwhile, Jiang had been scolded to hell and back while working under that same father, even for the smallest mistakes.
And yet this idiot, talentless and error-prone, had a better position and a beautiful girlfriend like Song Xin?
But that was two years ago.
Now, he was the station's rising star.
And Jing Yu?
Heh.
Thanks to Song Xin pulling this stunt, Jing Yu's production would be completely thrown off. With the already limited timeframe, losing even two days would force him to cut corners—and that would lead to a disaster when it aired.
"I can't wait to see this so-called masterpiece of his," Jiang Shiqing sneered. "Let's see what kind of splash it makes when it airs. A tidal wave of bad reviews, maybe?"