Chapter 66 Why Is It Another Youth Film?

Chapter 66: Why Another Youth Film?

"What the hell? He actually went to Beijing Film Academy? He's not going to be a writer anymore?"

"What? He's not publishing books anymore? You've got to be kidding. He should just focus on writing. Directing belongs to a totally different industry, after all."

"I'm speechless. I've been reading his books for years, so I guess I count as a loyal fan, right? Yet this is the first time I'm hearing he went to Beijing Film Academy."

"To the person above, same here. First time I've heard about it. My mind is blown!"

"Plus one, but I'm actually pretty excited. I want to see how his directing turns out."

"Very much looking forward to it, though I'm even more eager to see him adapt *The Master of None* into a show!"

Kookoo Video had placed advertisements both on and off their platform to build up some buzz.

The only real gimmick they could use was the director himself, who at least counted as a minor celebrity—a young author emerging from the "Tender Sprouts" literary camp who had just published his fourth book, *The Master of None*, earlier this year. Combined with the fact that he was currently a sophomore at the Beijing Film Academy, there was plenty of topic material to hype up.

Several industry insiders had noticed the news and casually asked their friends or professors at the academy what his background was out of curiosity. However, since the show hadn't aired yet and no one knew how well it was made, they mostly just took note of it and left it at that.

The faculty and students at the academy were also aware of the news. After all, he had gained some minor internet fame not too long ago, though none of them expected he would actually manage to sell a completed project.

In the teachers' offices, many were discussing the matter.

"Not bad at all. Looks like the Directing Department is finally going to produce someone who makes something of himself."

"I wonder how much he sold it for."

"Why do you care how much he sold it for? Being able to sell it at all takes real skill."

"Even without selling it, the work itself was pretty good."

"True, the production quality is solid. Selling it is just the icing on the cake."

"Sigh, it's been how many years since we last produced a couple of truly great directors?"

"A great director? It's a long road ahead. But at least we finally have someone who looks the part."

"Don't talk nonsense. Does that mean the rest of the kids aren't your students? Are they not talented? Many of them just haven't found the right opportunity or lacked the funding to shoot. Given the chance, they wouldn't necessarily lose to him."

"That's also true. This kid managed to fund and shoot his own film using money he earned himself. He's already doing quite well in the literary world on his own."

Such were the conversations among the faculty. Overall, they were very optimistic and pleased. After all, this was a glory that belonged to them and to the school. And frankly, it was true—how many years had it been since the academy produced a genuinely high-profile director?

Some students changed careers after graduation, while others went on to become commercial directors, executive directors, or assistant directors for others. Most had to slowly accumulate experience and build connections. Opportunities to helm a film or television series entirely on their own were rare.

This didn't mean their paths were bad—not at all. Many of them actually lived better and earned higher incomes than the average person. But everyone still hoped for one or two major directors who could stand completely on their own two feet and achieve significant greatness. Otherwise, outsiders might start to feel that the Directing Department of the Beijing Film Academy no longer lived up to its reputation.

"I wonder how much he sold it for?"

"It's just a web short, and it's only airing on a video platform. It definitely couldn't have fetched much, right?"

"I think so too. Even though it's pretty good, its commercial value isn't high. Kookoo Video couldn't possibly have paid a huge sum for it."

"Still, it's pretty impressive. Being a sophomore and already making money off a short drama you directed yourself."

"Sigh, it's just because he has money that he even got the chance to make a short drama. If I had money, I could shoot one too."

"True. He must have made a fortune writing novels; otherwise, he wouldn't have the spare cash to blow like that."

The students were more inclined toward envy, jealousy, and bitterness. After all, they were peers in a competitive environment.

Why was he the one who got to make short dramas? Wasn't it just because he had a bit of stinking money? If I could write novels and make money, then...

Well, if he could do that, why bother making short dramas? He could just write novels to make a living and be done with it.

...

Li Jingkun himself didn't give it too much thought. Once the short drama production was finished, he had already moved on to his next steps.

He went to classes when it was time for class, and wrote when it was time to write.

Now that the short drama was not only completed but successfully sold, whatever fate awaited it was entirely up to itself.

What mattered more was what came next.

Yes, a new project naturally had to be put on the agenda. His next work was also a story about youth, the college entrance examination, and romance, titled *Youth Stage*.

Why another youth film?

Aside from the benefits of low costs, simple set locations, and a smaller cast, it was also meant to fit his established public persona.

For a roughly twenty-year-old college sophomore to burst onto the scene with a sci-fi blockbuster, a suspense thriller, or a martial arts epic would be too startling and entirely illogical.

What did logical mean?

Director Li started with campus shorts, moved on to campus web dramas, and then progressed to a low-budget youth film. Even though they were well-made and showed genuine genius, upon closer reflection, the progression was entirely reasonable.

He would use two or three projects to lay a solid foundation before branching out into wilder territory later.

A few days later, *Days Aloft* was scheduled to officially premiere. Cai Wenwen called him to ask if he wanted to get everyone together for a gathering at his place to watch the premiere on Kookoo Video.

"Haven't you guys already seen it? And you've watched it twice, no less." Li Jingkun had already watched it countless times—why watch it again?

"This time is different! It's the official premiere, which makes it deeply meaningful. Sun Hao and the others are really eager to watch it too."

"I bet you guys are just looking for any excuse to have a massive feast and drink yourselves silly."

Gatherings under all sorts of pretexts.

"So what if we are? Aren't you welcoming us?"

Fine. To them, this truly held a different kind of significance. It could be said to be their own maiden work, so a sense of ceremonial ritual was indeed in order.

And then, it blew up.

On its first day of release, *Days Aloft* racked up over two hundred thousand views. The second and third days saw over three hundred thousand views each, and by the subsequent days, it was climbing by six to seven hundred thousand views daily.

These numbers were calculated based on the views for the first episode alone. If calculated by the total of three episodes, the figures would naturally double.

This was why people often saw claims of total view counts breaking hundreds of millions—those were accumulated across dozens of episodes, and even then, inflated figures had to be factored out.

So, how did the performance stack up?

The performance was exceptionally stellar, practically reaching a level of genuine viral popularity.

First of all, Kookoo Video's promotional trailers were masterfully done, the marketing was thorough, and the platform itself possessed a substantial user base. Secondly, Li Jingkun himself served as a major attraction, having accumulated quite a large readership over the years.

Finally, and most importantly, the short drama returned to the core material itself: the quality was rock-solid, the dialogue was witty, and it closely resonated with the lives of modern youth.

The users of video streaming platforms were undoubtedly different from traditional television audiences; the former leaned younger, completely aligning with the target demographic of the short drama, which made it perfectly suited to their tastes.

Many lines from the show quickly spread across other websites, with users posting numerous quotes on Weibo and QQ Space.

"Eighteen multiple-choice questions, and you managed to precisely avoid every single correct answer. Impressive."

"You might be able to swim naked in the Yellow River, but I'm definitely not wading into these muddy waters."

"Were you born completely blind during your early years?"

Among them, the most widely circulated line was naturally: "If you act like this, you're never going to make any good friends."

*(Author's note: Thank you to the reader "I Don't Know What Nickname to Pick" for the double monthly tickets and recommendation tickets, and thank you to all the book friends for your recommendation tickets.)*

*(Seeking investments—we currently have 65 investors, and we need 35 more to reach the target of 100.)*

*(End of Chapter)*