"Teacher Jing Yu, if I may—
I don't think you actually want to sign with the Big Six," Cheng Lie said, locking eyes with Jing Yu.
"Oh?" Jing Yu narrowed his eyes slightly. "And what makes you say that?"
"Because… you remind me of someone. You're the second person I've met like this.
You and Zhong Ming — you share a similar mindset when it comes to the finer details."
"Zhong Ming—the genius screenwriter who almost helped Yunteng TV break the 10% viewership ceiling five years ago.
Before he joined us, he, too, received invitations from the Big Six.
But in the end, he still chose us." Cheng Lie shifted the topic smoothly.
"I once asked him why he turned down the Big Six.
He told me: 'I'm greedy. I know my own worth. What I need is a chance to rise — not a deal where I sell my best years to the Big Six just for the sake of a 'chance.'"
"Five years — to most people, it's nothing.
But for someone like you, Teacher Jing Yu, who took just one year to elevate Jinhui TV to where it is now…
Those terms offered by the Big Six — let's be honest — they must feel like an insult.
Wasting five years on a few standard perks?
You haven't signed because you know committing to that would be a loss.
But you haven't found a better offer either, so you're stuck.
That's why I came today."
Jing Yu smiled faintly. "You think too highly of me.
I'm just an ordinary screenwriter in the world of film and television."
"Maybe. But it's not about how I see you — it's about the contract we're offering."
Cheng Lie placed a folder in front of him.
Jing Yu picked it up and skimmed through it.
His expression shifted into something complicated.
A performance-based contract.
Unlike the offers from the Big Six, which were based on 'White Album 2's results and offered standard terms —
Yunteng TV's contract was entirely different.
A one-year deal, renewable annually.
Payment was based on performance.
Jing Yu's compensation would scale according to the ratings of his show.
Even the base screenwriting fee was tiered:
From 4% to 20% of investment, depending on the final viewership ratings.
As for royalties, those could go as high as 12% —
But only if the show broke 6% viewership.
And there was more.
Once Jing Yu agreed and passed the script review,
The initial investment for the first drama wouldn't be less than 35 million.
And the show would air in prime time.
Even casting and director selection — Jing Yu would have considerable creative control.
"You guys are really…" Jing Yu was genuinely stunned.
TV stations put up tens of millions in real money.
All a screenwriter had to do was deliver a good story, and if it performed, they could walk away with a massive cut.
"That's right," Cheng Lie smiled.
"The station only offers this kind of contract to people it believes have real potential.
Most of our writers are on standard deals."
"This is what drew Zhong Ming to us years ago."
"But aren't you afraid people will use your platform to get famous — and then leave?" Jing Yu asked bluntly.
"Hah," Cheng Lie laughed.
"To earn the kinds of rewards you're seeing, a writer would need to produce a show with over 6% viewership.
Without that, their income might actually be lower than the standard deal.
But look at it the other way —
If we don't offer this kind of deal to someone with that potential,
Why would they choose us in the first place?"
"Whether it's the chicken or the egg, or whether the chicken lays more eggs…
What's the point of overthinking it?
If you're so focused on long-term gains that you miss the short-term opportunities in front of you,
That's just foolish."
He paused, voice softening.
"Zhong Ming…
After rising to fame five years ago, he left Yunteng TV."
"Yeah, but both sides benefited," Cheng Lie added.
"Yunteng TV got a show that nearly broke 10%, and Zhong Ming made his name.
It's just a shame…" A trace of sorrow flickered in his eyes.
Jing Yu remembered.
After leaving Yunteng TV, Zhong Ming had started his own production company —
Only to be struck down by a serious illness and pass away young.
"Teacher Jing Yu, I hope you'll trust us.
Yes, maybe Yunteng TV isn't as strong as the Big Six right now.
And sure, our flagship show lost to your 'White Album 2' in the fall season.
But before your show aired, even breaking 1% was a struggle for Jinhui TV.
You pushed them up to 3%. That's huge."
"With an average writer, our shows hover around 2.5% — maybe a bit over 3% at best.
But with Zhong Ming, we reached 9.9%. Anything is possible.
If you join Yunteng TV, who knows? Maybe we will triple our ratings," Cheng Lie said, half-joking.
He wasn't claiming Jing Yu was better than Zhong Ming,
But there was no denying Jing Yu's work had already outperformed Yunteng TV's current writers.
"I…" Jing Yu hesitated.
He still felt like saying no.
Yes, Yunteng TV had potential —
Enough to challenge Da Zhou's elite, maybe.
But…
That path was bound to be harder than simply joining the Big Six.
"Teacher Jing Yu," Cheng Lie said quietly.
"You'd be a rare talent at Yunteng TV.
But at the Big Six? You're just another rookie."
"They already have veteran writers they've worked with for years.
And the internal politics are brutal.
Talented people get sidelined all the time —
Writers with breakout hits get shelved for years just because they don't have the right connections."
"And even putting all that aside —
Can the late-night or daytime slots at Xingtong TV or Imperial Capital TV really compare to our prime time slot?"
"If they were really serious about you, would they be offering you those time slots?"
Cheng Lie looked at Jing Yu, his voice calm but firm.
The truth was…
Jing Yu did have the potential to become one of the greats.
But potential was just that — potential.
The Big Six already had their own pool of top writers.
They might nurture another one, sure —
But they didn't need to.
And that meant they probably wouldn't treat him with the same level of importance.
Yunteng TV, on the other hand —
They'd cherish someone like him.
Jing Yu fell silent.
Cheng Lie was clearly selling hard —
But what he said made sense.
"…Let me think about it," Jing Yu sighed.
He knew Cheng Lie was laying it on thick —
But it did make his decision harder.
"I'll be waiting," Cheng Lie nodded.
"I hope you can give us an answer within a month."
"It's already November —
If you're planning for a spring release next year,
You'll need to lock down your choice this month.
Only then can we finalize the script review, get funding, and start pre-production in early December.
That way, we can aim for a January launch."
He stood up.
His muscular frame cast a heavy presence over the room.
All the way until sunset, Jing Yu kept thinking about the offers.
Yes, he had all the perks of a transmigrator.
Yes, he had access to an ability panel packed with valuable tools.
But like Cheng Lie said —
Stations like XingTong TV were huge, and their infrastructure was solid.
But they were also packed with talent.
Jing Yu wasn't worried about competing in scriptwriting.
He wasn't alone — he had help.
What he feared…
was competing on seniority, on connections, on politics.
And that wasn't a rare occurrence.
The bigger the platform, the more common the game of power became.
If talent alone were enough, the world wouldn't be full of absurd tragedies.
So rather than choosing a place where the platform was big,
But his career path might be out of his control…
A station that truly valued him might be safer,
Even if it wasn't quite as powerful.
Which left two options:
Yunteng TV and Chenghai TV.
They were the only two stations to send someone in person.
That said a lot about how serious they were.
So… who to choose?
Logically, it should be Chenghai TV.
But emotionally…
Jing Yu couldn't quite let go of Yunteng TV.
A few hours later, he made his decision.
If Chenghai TV were willing to shorten its five-year contract to three years,
He'd go with them.
That was the safer move.
Maybe both stations were "traps," but Chenghai TV had the stronger numbers.
He had to trust data and logic.
No matter how well Cheng Lie pitched Yunteng TV,
That was still his pitch.
Jing Yu couldn't Google his way into the station's internal reality.
And even if it was a trap,
Three years wasn't a huge risk —
Just two more than Yunteng TV's one-year contract.
But for the contract talk to proceed,
He'd also need to submit a script sample — at least the first two episodes —
And register the copyright in his name.
After that, he could send the proposal to Chenghai TV's production department.
The script was the foundation.
Without it, he had no leverage to negotiate terms.
Which meant the next step was:
"So… which new show should I write?"
Jing Yu found himself facing yet another decision.