That night, on a certain island.
In front of a fast-food restaurant, Xu Yinsheng sat on the steps, hugging her knees.
One after another, pedestrians chatted and laughed, some coming in, some going out.
The tempting aroma of food inside the shop mixed with the biting cold air, stirring a few pangs of irritation within her.
Her hungry stomach grumbled loudly.
Xu Yinsheng buried her head in her knees and hugged herself tightly, as if doing so could somehow ease the hunger.
Moonlight spilled over the ground, as if the wine had been mixed with salt.
The surveillance camera outside the fast-food restaurant silently recorded everything, watching the every move of the red-haired woman, transmitting the footage through the network to a room somewhere on the island.
“Classmate Kao, is this really the reason you asked me to come?”
Bai Yu looked at the footage on the LCD screen, “Doesn’t look like she’s seriously ill.”
“The Chairman said she’s ill, so she is.”
Li Yuan downed a glass of Erguotou, then stirred the hotpot with his chopsticks.
The pot simmered with fatty slices of beef, enoki mushrooms, shiitake mushrooms, radish, cabbage, and scallions—the aroma of meat filled the air.
“And the mission the Chairman gave us is to help her get better.”
He took another glass of Erguotou, complaining a little.
“Kao, you don’t know how hard it is to be a working guy now. I took a night flight from Huayuan Federation, then switched to a helicopter, then a cruise ship, and finally arrived on this island. And during all this time, I couldn’t even sleep, busy arranging personnel. Do you know? I haven’t had a single warm meal these past few days!”
He bit hard into a piece of beef, juices bursting out.
“If I’d known what I was learning back then was finance, and now ended up learning about film and television with you guys—being an 18th-tier minor star—I wouldn’t be this exhausted.”
“Being in Fengle Group isn’t easy either.”
Hearing his friend’s complaints, Bai Yu patted his shoulder reassuringly and started complaining himself, “In the past year or two, I barely got any major roles. The production teams are so poor they can barely keep the pot boiling.”
“If you hadn’t asked me this time, I probably would have already dissolved the crew.”
“Let’s hope this time it can bring some blood back to the scene.”
Both sighed in unison.
“Gentlemen, everyone’s here now.”
Just then, a middle-aged man dressed as a butler opened the door.
The two wiped their mouths and instructed others to clean up the messy table.
The main hall was filled with all kinds of people: long-haired artists, psychologists in white coats, screenwriters with pens clipped to their chests, elderly and frail professors—all connections Bai Yu had helped bring together.
After all, in the entertainment world, anything could be missing except connections.
Li Yuan stepped into the hall and nodded slightly in greeting to the professionals from various fields.
“Everyone here is a specialist in their own field. I believe you’ve all seen patient cases before, so I’ll keep it brief.”
A large LCD screen descended from above, displaying a scene: in front of a bustling fast-food restaurant, a red-haired woman squatted on the steps, hugging her knees.
The cold wind blew through, her body trembling.
Behind her was a trash bin used for leftover food.
As a private island, this place was originally an underground parking lot for luxury cars but was urgently converted into a central control room connecting all the island’s surveillance cameras.
“Xu Yinsheng is the wife of my family’s B0SS. Because she stays at home year-round and never goes out, she has developed neurotic persecutory delusions and a series of neurological disorders. Her specific symptoms include believing that the imaginary person beside her is always trying to harm her, constantly wanting to escape, and she even believes she is male.”
“As you all know from the script, the entire island is filled with our professional extras. This island is my family boss’s private retreat. To treat the boss’s wife’s mental illness, the boss consulted experts from various fields and concluded that an immersive environment therapy is the best approach.”
“Let the patient immerse in an artificially created environment. As the characters and settings change, it quietly and imperceptibly heals the wounds within.”
“Truman Show?”
A screenwriter with a pen clipped to his chest couldn’t help but raise his hand to ask.
Li Yuan was momentarily stunned, then nodded affirmatively and gestured for him to sit.
“Yes, it can be considered another version of The Truman Show.”
“You are all experts from various industries. We invited you here to brainstorm. For the next month, we will all be colleagues.”
“As for compensation.”
Li Yuan’s tone dropped slightly, and the atmosphere turned serious.
Everyone knew very well that no matter how grand the promises were, if the pay wasn’t right, no expert would give up their family to contribute here.
He gave a slight clap.
A staff member laboriously carried a briefcase to the center of the group, then respectfully stepped back.
“You are all from different countries and regions, and currency exchange rates vary.”
He opened a small box beside him.
The dazzling golden glow almost blinded everyone.
Li Yuan bathed in countless covetous glances as he shuffled the tiny gold fish-shaped coins, making a clinking sound.
“The boss said this is only the first payment.”
In the dimly lit control room, everyone’s breathing quickened, excitement instantly ignited.
This was real, hard cash!
“What exactly will our work entail?” a young-looking screenwriter asked.
“Analyzing characters’ psychological activities, speculating on their behaviors, building psychological models, and creating and revising the subsequent scripts.”
Li Yuan shrugged, “Anyway, we’ll be busy for a while.”
He pulled out a script from the briefcase filled with gold fish coins.
The script contained only a few lines of handwritten text.
Compared to a script, it was more like a highly condensed outline, a particularly abridged version.
“This is the first scene the boss requested.”
“Bread and Freedom.”
Li Yuan opened the script and read aloud the outline:
“A little hunter cat who has always lived in a greenhouse suffers brutal social blows after leaving home, only to painfully crawl back into the cage and accept the owner’s care.”
As soon as he finished, Li Yuan’s mouth twitched, a little embarrassed even for himself.
Bai Yu beside him couldn’t bear to look directly, his gaze seemingly saying that while this script posed no threat to his status in the film industry, shooting it would utterly destroy his reputation in entertainment.
The Chairman’s script… really was a work of abstract art.
The others showed no expression but listened attentively.
Seeing the gold fish coins, even if it was a pile of rubbish, they could still swallow it.
“Alright.”
Someone started the applause, followed by a thunderous round of clapping.
Li Yuan grew even more embarrassed and raised his hand to signal them to stop.
The applause stopped immediately.
At this moment, the younger screenwriter raised his hand again.
“I have an idea.”
“Go ahead.”
Li Yuan gestured for him to continue.
Zhao Yicheng had only given him a script outline that could be called highly abridged.
‘Suffer brutal social blows’ was already part of it, but how exactly the ‘painfully crawling back’ should be portrayed left him utterly clueless.
“I think we can…”