This is what professionalism truly means.

Deputy Director Liu Deyu of the Crouching Tiger District Television Station really had no intention of dealing with Chen Pi. After all, this so-called “Creative Ability Limited Company” was nothing more than a sham, even less legitimate than a ragtag troupe. The only redeeming feature was that its boss, Li Jie, had once been somewhat famous—a former child star who had recently enjoyed a brief resurgence as the “Masked Brother.”

But Liu Deyu had no choice. Just yesterday, his old friend Su Yongzhi had come knocking, holding evidence from years ago when the two of them had secretly recorded a councilman in Crouching Tiger District. It was a joint endeavor back then.

Now, Su Yongzhi’s career was finished; he’d withdrawn from politics. But Liu Deyu still had a promising future ahead. That councilman, even more so—having successfully won a seat in the Sanjiang Provincial Assembly, he was now a “political star.” If he so much as hinted at wanting to restructure the province’s media, it would be done in a heartbeat. Should old scandals surface about Liu Deyu’s penchant for invading others’ privacy, he’d be finished.

So, when Su Yongzhi offered him a chance—not for Liu Deyu himself, but for his granddaughter and her husband-to-be—Liu agreed without hesitation.

“Director Liu, how do you do? I’m Chen Pi, acting as Mr. Li’s agent. I’ve come today to discuss the cooperation for ‘Masked Calabash Hero’…”

“Premiering rights, eighty thousand per episode, fifty-fifty split. Forty thousand for you, forty thousand for me.”

Though coerced by Su Yongzhi, Liu Deyu still handled the matter as if it were first-rate business. He didn’t ask for exclusive broadcast rights, since Su had boasted that his grandson-in-law was destined to soar. So Liu used that as a bargaining chip, translating it into a purchase price of eighty thousand per episode instead of a hundred thousand.

Thus, instead of paying a full hundred thousand, he paid twenty thousand less, then split the revenue. Not bad at all.

Chen Pi was stunned—was he dreaming? They weren’t demanding exclusive rights? And offering a fifty-fifty split? Was Li Jie secretly Liu Deyu’s godfather to deserve such favor?

Without hesitation, Chen Pi bowed and nodded his thanks for Director Liu’s support…

But that wasn’t the end of it. Director Liu had zero interest in any other commercial development.

So, it was just about the “premiere rights.”

Damn…

Leaving the TV station, Chen Pi felt utterly useless—as if anyone, even a dog, could do his job. But then he remembered Li Jie was currently playing a dog, and his mood brightened. Reporting his success to Li Jie, he couldn’t help but exclaim, “Damn, Old Li, is Liu Deyu your godson or what? Showering you with such generosity? He’s nothing like Sima Rui, that old tortoise. That bastard Sima wants fifty thousand for himself, demands exclusive rights, and even wants a share from merchandise sales. Old Li, you have no idea how greedy that dog is for our meager profits.”

“Less nonsense, I don’t have time to chat. Call in those makeup artists and lighting guys you used to work with—even if they’re not great, they’ll do.”

“…”

“And hire a few social media operators. Set up interviews with some small local stations in a few days.”

“Wait, Old Li, isn’t this a bit rushed?”

“What do you know? If we don’t seize the moment, how will we feed our families? I’m hanging up.”

“…”

Li Jie was swamped. Finding a suitable, obedient cameraman wasn’t easy, so he handled everything himself—makeup, props, lighting, camera work, editing. The skills he’d wrangled from the dog system were coming in handy.

Currently, he shot each scene from multiple angles, then edited them together. Su Mengyao wasn’t idle either; she designed costumes and played a critical role as the “Snake Queen”—the dark adversary in “Masked Calabash Hero.”

Originally, Li Jie considered giving the Snake Queen a catchphrase—something like “Bala Energy!”—but worried the dog system would trigger some supernatural disaster, so he stuck with the classic: “As I wish, as my heart desires, reveal yourself now!”

Every time she chanted this “spell,” she would summon a “dark demon beast.”

Designing the monster suits was a hassle. If he introduced flashy “dark demon beasts” too early, production costs would skyrocket. Fortunately, explosion scenes were easy—just 3D printing, some foam, and knowledge of “Film and Television Pyrotechnics.” As a professional pyrotechnician, every explosion was an art.

“Brother, do I really not need to show cleavage?”

“Tsk, the Snake Queen doesn’t need to bare her snowy chest.”

“Yay!” Su Mengyao beamed with delight. “I’ll always belong to you alone, Brother Jie.”

She wrapped her arms around Li Jie, gazing at him tenderly, then sighed. “Alas, it’s still swollen today. The anti-inflammatory medicine isn’t helping at all. Even my skin feels rolled up.”

“…”

Since she didn’t need to show cleavage, Su Mengyao altered the V-neck into a round collar, black with gold accents. The prop for the magical “Jade Scepter” was finished too, cured overnight under UV light until it had the right feel.

Dressed in her dark Snake Queen costume, Li Jie took on the role of cameraman, shooting a set of sample photos.

“Yao Yao, your eyes need to look fiercer. Right now, you’re too innocent—kids won’t be scared, and teenagers will just daydream. You need to show some drama in your eyes.”

“But I can’t, Brother Jie…”

“It’s easy. Just imagine there’s a short, plain, flat-chested woman outside, and she’s got me completely dazzled… Yes, yes, that’s it! A hint of gritted teeth—good! Great! Keep your eyes away from me, look into the distance. That woman is taunting you, she’s all over me, hugging and kissing, now she’s kneeling, unzipping my pants… Perfect! Now, say your lines!”

“As I wish… as my heart desires… reveal yourself now!”

Su Mengyao raised the “magic scepter” high. Special effects would be added in post—flames, lightning, the earth splitting open as a “dark demon beast” burst forth…

Superb!

Li Jie thought to himself, having technical skills made all the difference. He might lack acting talent, but guiding others came naturally.

“Cut! Good, we’re done! I’ll edit it tonight and add a dark-themed soundtrack—it’ll be perfect.”

“Brother Jie, how about I wear this outfit tonight?”

“Huh? Why?”

“You’ll be the Masked Calabash Hero, right? Shouldn’t you give the Snake Queen a good lesson?”

“…”

Li Jie couldn’t help but feel a surge of admiration. What an exceptional girl—so much talent and perception, both in and out of character!