Chapter 10: The Doucai Cup
Ouyang Ouyang’s face flushed red, full of embarrassment and annoyance at having his secret exposed.
Xu Youyou looked straight at him. “You opened a shop next to the Shanghai Film Academy, constantly attending their open classes, and secretly learning film and television knowledge—what, is your dream so shameful?”
Ouyang Ouyang clenched his fists. He never thought his dream was shameful. The real shame was himself.
A middle school graduate without any formal training, he had been doing the most menial jobs. It took him years to save enough money to barely acquire this shop, but poor management was about to drive it to bankruptcy.
Someone like him, from the bottom rung of society, dared to secretly hold onto a dream of becoming a director—how laughable.
Xu Youyou slowly took out a script and placed it on the table.
“If you want to stay hidden forever, then consider this a mistake,” she said, standing up to leave.
Summoning courage from nowhere, Ouyang Ouyang said, “I’ll give it a try.”
Xu Youyou sat back down and pushed the script toward him.
Suppressing his urge to read it immediately, Ouyang Ouyang asked, “How did you find out about me?”
Without flinching, Xu Youyou replied, “Your every move has already caught the eye of someone observant. You may not believe in yourself, but someone wants to give you a chance.”
His heart skipped a beat. Several faces from the film academy flashed through his mind—professors he had questioned while pretending to be a student after open classes. Could one of them have recommended him? His chest felt heavy, as though stuffed with damp cotton.
“I’m planning to shoot a short drama. The pace needs to be quick, shot vertically, with each episode under ten minutes,” Xu Youyou laid out her requirements.
Thinking of the viral short videos online, Ouyang Ouyang hesitated. “That won’t be accepted by the mainstream audience.”
Xu Youyou glanced at him. “Who cares about the mainstream? I want to make money!”
As an aspiring director, Ouyang Ouyang naturally had his own ambitions.
Sensing his hesitation, Xu Youyou sweetened the deal. “If you do well, our next project will be a TV series. After that, a movie.”
With no better options and recognizing the rare opportunity, Ouyang Ouyang agreed without even asking about the salary. After all, who else would give him such a chance?
“I’ll close the shop now and start assembling the production team,” he said proactively.
Xu Youyou nodded. “For now, it’s just you and the male lead. If you trust anyone, bring them in for an interview.”
The barebones nature of the project surprised Ouyang Ouyang, but he quickly thought of suitable candidates.
“I know a few university students who can handle cinematography and production. I’ve also got someone in mind for logistics,” he said. Years of attending classes on the sly had earned him useful connections.
“Organize it quickly and prepare an equipment list—I’ll handle the purchases,” Xu Youyou instructed.
His eyes widened. “Wait… we don’t even have equipment?”
“The company’s only three days old—I haven’t even rented an office yet,” she admitted nonchalantly.
Ouyang Ouyang: …If not for the script in his hand, he’d think he had walked into some kind of pyramid scheme.
While he contacted his team, Xu Youyou scribbled a simple employment agreement.
“Sign this for now,” she said, handing it over.
The first thing that caught his eye was the director’s fee—100,000 yuan.
For a short drama, which typically wraps in ten days, this was astronomical. New directors often earned as little as 10,000 yuan for an entire 80-episode project.
To Xu Youyou, 100,000 yuan might not even cover a designer handbag. But for Ouyang Ouyang, it was life-changing. Realizing how generous the offer was, he looked at her like she was a living deity.
“Have the team ready within three days—the sooner, the better,” she instructed before leaving.
As soon as she left, Ouyang Ouyang hung a “Closed” sign on his shop and buried himself in the script.
The more he read, the more impressed he became. It had all the ingredients for a hit short drama—if executed well, it could go viral.
A group of university students barged in.
Wang Yifan asked, “Ouyang, are you serious? Someone’s hiring me as a cinematographer?”
“You’d better not be joking—who would pay us to practice otherwise?” added Cheng Shilei.
Handing them the contract, Ouyang Ouyang grinned. “I’m looking out for you guys. Some rich lady waltzed in, dripping in designer gear and chauffeured by a private driver. She wants to shoot a short drama. Let’s make it big!”
The others read the contract with shining eyes.
“Ouyang, you actually landed a real rich patron! Our future depends on you!” they cheered.
Although he prioritized his friends, Ouyang Ouyang was careful. With Xu Youyou’s permission, he negotiated fair salaries for them. Once they signed the agreements, he shared the script.
Xu Youyou had considered staying to meet the team, but two system notifications interrupted her.
[Congratulations, Host! You’ve completed the ‘Treasure Hunt’ task and earned a full set of short drama filming equipment.]
Her eyes sparkled—system rewards were always top-tier. That saved her the trouble of sourcing gear.
A second notification popped up with a new treasure hunt task.
Sitting in the passenger seat of Xu Fang’s car, she directed her through a maze of city streets. Eventually, they stopped in front of a pedestrian-only zone—Antique Alley.
“You wait here and look at new car models. Prioritize safety. I can’t keep using your car,” she instructed.
She needed her own ride—it was only fair since Xu Fang was now her employee.
As soon as Xu Youyou stepped into Antique Alley, the vendors perked up.
Young and unfamiliar—a perfect mark. Add to that her designer outfit and luxury handbag, and their eyes gleamed with opportunity.
“Miss, looking for something special? Everything here is authentic—family heirlooms, even!” one hawk-eyed vendor pitched.
Another, with a horse-like face, scoffed. “Authentic? Don’t listen to him, miss. Yesterday, a guy bought a silver dollar from me and flipped it for 50,000 yuan!”
As they bickered, Xu Youyou confirmed her suspicion—they were both swindlers. True antique dealers didn’t need such gimmicks.
Still, she casually picked up a cricket jar from the hawk-eyed vendor’s stall.
“You’ve got a good eye!” he said. “That’s a Qing Dynasty artifact used by the 15th Prince—yours for only 1 million yuan!”
Xu Youyou raised an eyebrow. “The Qing Dynasty only had 12 princes—your ‘15th Prince’ must be my age.”
Caught in his lie, the vendor chuckled awkwardly.
Amused, Xu Youyou turned her attention to a small, cup-shaped bowl resembling a sake cup—its glossy newness made it hard to believe it was old.
“This cup is pretty. How much?” she asked.
Grinning smugly, the vendor declared, “You’ve found the crown jewel—an authentic Chenghua Doucai cup! Last one at auction sold for 280 million yuan, but I’ll let you have it for 1 million.”
