After clicking redeem, a sudden jolt ran through Jing Yu's body again.
All sorts of knowledge took root in his mind out of thin air—and not just knowledge, even muscle memory and other physical instincts were automatically synced.
A few minutes later...
"Yet another dull experience," Jing Yu muttered disinterestedly as he regained consciousness.
It felt like something had changed—but also like nothing had changed at all.
Jing Yu suddenly thought of that motorcycle that had accompanied him for almost a year.
"It's time to upgrade my little donkey to a Bumblebee!"
Since he'd already decided to end his vacation time, Jing Yu also started getting down to real work.
The project for 'Initial D', although it would likely be quite popular once adapted into a drama, still had many areas that needed revision.
The character names, for instance, do not even need to mention that.
First was the matter of the car models used in the show.
Jing Yu had decided not to change a single one. After all, he was already used to the setting of the "Akina speed demon" driving an AE86. If it got changed to something like a BE86 or AKB48, he just couldn't accept it.
Also, by not changing the models to existing cars from the Great Zhou's auto industry, it would help avoid copyright and ad placement disputes.
Using someone else's car model repeatedly in the show—would Jing Yu have to pay them licensing fees, or would they pay him for advertising? Logically, it should be the latter. But since 'Initial D' wasn't famous yet, Jing Yu seriously doubted whether any car companies would offer significant ad money. If they just tossed a symbolic 10,000 or 100,000 yuan as ad fees and ended up gaining huge exposure for their models, Jing Yu would be extremely unhappy.
He could walk away from the deal entirely and not make a cent—but he definitely couldn't tolerate being taken advantage of.
Anyway, in his previous life, Jing Yu—as a typical Chinese otaku—didn't even know what class the Japanese AE86 belonged to, or just how "awesome" the GT-APEX version of that car was. But did that stop him from enjoying 'Initial D'?
Not at all. As long as the drama includes original vehicle specs—horsepower, torque, weight load, etc.—fans of Great Zhou dramas who understand cars will get it. And those who don't understand cars? Well, even if Jing Yu changed the models or not, they still wouldn't get it.
So, skipping that part...
The investment in this drama couldn't be small.
It's basically all exterior shooting—either racing or driving to the race. Very little would be shot in studio sets. And to shoot this kind of drama, you'd basically have to rent out entire mountain roads. Even if filming at night, it wouldn't come cheap.
Then there's the matter of choosing filming locations. The name of the area where the protagonist lives—Akina Mountain—in 'Initial D', Jing Yu still didn't plan to change that. But, just like the car models, it's not actually important.
Just like how there was no actual "Akina Mountain" in Japan in his previous life, the original was based on Haruna Mountain. Did that affect how the anime was viewed? Even Japanese fans didn't complain. So, of course, Great Zhou's fans wouldn't mind this level of fictionalization.
Still, for the drama version of 'Initial D', the filming location for Akina Mountain must match the storyline descriptions.
The five consecutive hairpin turns could be changed to six or seven, but definitely not two or three.
Akina, in the original, was a two-lane mountain road. You can't turn that into a four-lane highway in the show.
In the original, the Akina downhill course was just over 8 kilometers long. Fujiwara Takumi would complete one run in about four minutes—meaning he was going downhill at around 120 km/h.
That was just his tofu delivery speed. If it were a race, he'd go even faster.
These details couldn't be changed too much either.
So when choosing a race track in Great Zhou, it had to match that—long enough, with harder curves, which would make the drama even more visually impressive. Short or easy routes? Not worth considering.
Then there was casting.
Clearly, characters like Ryosuke Takahashi, Keisuke Takahashi, and Takeshi Nakazato couldn't be cast randomly.
To get high ratings, they'd still have to spend money to invite some popular actors.
But Jing Yu wasn't too worried about this. After 'Hikaru no Go', his current fame would make casting easier. What he was worried about was whether the station would give him enough budget. If the funding were limited, Jing Yu would definitely choose to spend more on filming than on casting.
As he began writing the script, all of these things had to be considered. Jing Yu sighed.
In the following days, Jing Yu threw himself entirely into scriptwriting. Cheng Lie came by several times to sneak a peek.
Like an elementary school homeroom teacher spying on students, he found that Jing Yu was actually writing a script and not slacking off playing games. He gave a fatherly smile of relief.
At the beginning of August, the two major dramas Yunteng TV was promoting for the quarter had both dropped to around 3.5% viewership.
Even with the nostalgia of 'Hikaru no Go' and 'Steins;Gate', audiences only showed this much face.
Compared to Yunteng TV's past results, these numbers were actually decent—in the past, drama teams would pop champagne halfway through for results like this.
But now, with such iconic IPs backing them and still delivering just these numbers, the higher-ups at the station clearly weren't satisfied—even if they didn't say it out loud.
Department head Meng Yu had recently been pressuring Cheng Lie to check in on Jing Yu's progress with the new script.
So...
"Jing Yu-sensei, your one week is up." Cheng Lie walked into Jing Yu's office in formal wear.
"Mm, just about done!"
Jing Yu looked a bit worn out. After all, even though 'Initial D' was such a big project, the assistants assigned to him by the station couldn't help much—most of the work had to be done by Jing Yu himself.
He handed the two completed episodes to Cheng Lie.
These two episodes covered the story from Fujiwara Takumi's introduction to his victory over Takahashi Ryosuke's younger brother, Keisuke Takahashi.
"'Initial D'? What kind of name is that?" Cheng Lie glanced at the title. His first reaction was to complain—but he held back, only silently judging it in his mind.
Then he sat down at Jing Yu's desk and began reviewing the script seriously.
At first, he was very focused, afraid of missing anything. But as he read, he glanced up at Jing Yu twice, then went back to reading.
A high school boy delivering tofu at night, flying through the winding roads of Akina Mountain, and a group of street racers chasing faster speeds…
"A racing drama?"
Cheng Lie felt a wave of confusion.
Could it be that Jing Yu's recent obsession with racing games was actually research for this show?
Did I misjudge him?
Cheng Lie suddenly felt a twinge of guilt—maybe he had been too harsh.
Jing Yu had always said he was finding inspiration in games.
And yet...
Maybe I should treat him to dinner to make up for it?
After a brief moment of self-reflection, Cheng Lie continued reading.
The genre of racing dramas wasn't unheard of in Great Zhou's TV industry, but usually, it was just a gimmick used in romance dramas, like 'My Lucky Star' from his past life. Pure racing dramas? Cheng Lie couldn't recall any.
And it wasn't even formal racing—it was nighttime street racing.
The phrase "ghost-fire youth" popped into Cheng Lie's mind!
But if he hadn't underestimated 'Hikaru no Go' before, he definitely wasn't going to underestimate Jing Yu now. He knew very well that with Jing Yu's works, you don't judge based on genre—you look at the story.
Ten minutes later, when the script described Keisuke getting overtaken on Akina Mountain by an unknown AE86 driver, Cheng Lie's expression turned serious.
He was starting to get hooked.
Fifteen minutes later, he was deeply immersed.
Half an hour later...
When he read the scene where the protagonist used a gutter run technique to beat Keisuke...
He let out a long sigh.
This pacing, this storytelling—unbeatable!
This work was completely different from something like 'Steins;Gate'. Even just based on the first two episodes, Cheng Lie could sense Jing Yu's mastery of cliffhangers and pacing.
After finishing, Cheng Lie looked at Jing Yu, still wanting more.
"Is there more?"
"You think writing two episodes in a week isn't enough? What am I, a robot? No, that's all for now." Jing Yu rolled his eyes.
Cheng Lie lowered his head in thought. A street racing show like this had never appeared in Great Zhou before. Even though he personally found the script very entertaining, would audiences accept it?
He looked over at Jing Yu.
This was where their creative philosophies differed. Jing Yu was confident his works would be hits—because they had been proven successful in his previous life. In essence, he already had market data.
But Cheng Lie didn't know any of that. He could only rely on guesses and experience. Even if he liked the script, he still felt uncertainty—after all, he knew Great Zhou had over a billion people. His taste didn't represent everyone's.
Still, if he had the guts to gamble on 'Hikaru no Go', there was no reason to chicken out on 'Initial D'.
"But isn't that gutter-run technique a bit far-fetched?" Cheng Lie asked Jing Yu, skipping over any debate about whether to turn the show into professional racing.
"This is a realistic show, right? Not a superhero fantasy. You really put something like that in here?" he hesitated.
"You think gutter-runs aren't possible?" Jing Yu smiled at him.
In truth, similar techniques exist in real-life rally racing—it just might not be as dramatic.
"They're possible?" Cheng Lie was stunned.
Since he didn't follow racing, it all sounded exaggerated to him.
But then again, some genres do get exaggerated in dramas. Others... not so much. Like in 'Blazing Teens', the characters looked amazing in the show, but in reality, they'd be complete nobodies—not even qualified for real competitions. Real yoyo pros are way more skilled than the TV characters.
As for 'Initial D', Jing Yu felt the manga was relatively realistic in its depiction.
"Any racing technique that appears in my show—if I can't do it myself—I won't write it in the script," Jing Yu said seriously.
"Yeah, right. Do you even have a driver's license, Jing Yu-sensei?" Cheng Lie eyed him skeptically.
"Don't you ride a motorcycle to work? Even if you can drive, I've never seen you do it. If you have a license, it's probably just collecting dust! You talk like you're some driving god."
Jing Yu's face stiffened at that.
"How about this—why don't you offer up your beloved off-road car and let me drive you around the outskirts of Modo City? Then you'll see for yourself whether my script is BS or not."
Jing Yu had only meant to joke, but after being called out like that, he couldn't help but fire back.