The longer Jing Yu held off on renewing his contract, the more anxious the higher-ups at Yunteng TV grew.
Other than bringing in Yu Youqing and Xia Yining, what Jing Yu valued most was Cheng Lie's production ability and his network in the industry.
Although Cheng Lie wasn't part of Yunteng TV's executive team and didn't have strong ties to industry bigshots, if Jing Yu's goal was to start a film and television company, then Cheng Lie could easily recruit a dozen capable, affordable professionals for him.
That was what Jing Yu truly needed.
If it had been anyone else trying to poach Cheng Lie, asking him to throw away the position and status he'd fought for over ten years at Yunteng TV, he would've told them to get lost.
But if that person was Jing Yu...
That changed everything.
Ever since Jing Yu had expressed his desire to start a company and bring him on board, Cheng Lie had been struggling internally.
On one hand, he understood Jing Yu's talent better than anyone.
On the other hand, he feared the uncertainty of the future.
But everything changed during the last week of December, when Cheng Lie received his share of the merchandising and licensing profits for 'Steins;Gate', 'Hikaru no Go', and 'Another'.
As the producer for those shows, his profit share wasn't anywhere near the 10% Jing Yu got under their revenue-sharing contracts, but even 1% to 2% still amounted to millions.
After all, 'Steins;Gate' and 'Hikaru no Go' were huge hits. DVDs and merchandise were flying off the shelves.
Just one example—'Steins;Gate' featured a metal Upa figure that supposedly triggered World War III in-universe. Yunteng TV had them mass-produced at under 10 yuan per unit and sold them on the official website for 150 yuan each. Over 400,000 units had been sold.
Of course, that first quarter after a show ends is always the peak for merchandise sales. Later quarters wouldn't bring in nearly as much.
But in ten years at Yunteng TV, most of it spent running errands and collecting a base salary, then a few years as a producer, Cheng Lie had never made this much money in one go.
Life is about making the right choices, not just hard work.
If he hadn't thickened his skin back then and reached out to bring Jing Yu into Yunteng TV, he'd still be a nobody in the industry.
And now, Jing Yu was leaving to start his own company—and wanted Cheng Lie to join him.
The risk was huge, but Cheng Lie could also see the potential.
When he walked onstage at the Golden Dragon Awards to accept the Best Producer award that night, he had already made his decision.
Just like Jing Yu said... his career as a producer had reached its peak.
Once Jing Yu left Yunteng TV, Cheng Lie knew he'd never get a chance like this again.
But deciding in your heart was one thing—actually leaving was another.
Unlike Jing Yu's flexible, low-restriction contract with Yunteng TV, Cheng Lie's contract included a strict three-year non-compete clause.
If he resigned, he legally couldn't work for any other film or TV company for three years.
So when he told Jing Yu he wanted to join him, he also had to explain that this was the barrier.
Without resolving this, even if he wanted to go, he couldn't.
After some thought, Jing Yu made a decision.
January 7th.
Jing Yu visited Yunteng TV in person to meet with Meng Yu, head of the production department.
Meng Yu took this meeting very seriously.
The Yunteng TV leadership still clung to hope that Jing Yu talking about starting his own company was just a bargaining chip to ask for better terms.
"Jing Yu, come on now," Meng Yu said with a smile. "If the conditions aren't good enough, we can negotiate. Why leave Yunteng TV?"
What followed was a ten-minute conversation—Meng Yu testing the waters, trying to figure out Jing Yu's true intentions.
But the more they talked, the more chilled Meng Yu felt.
This wasn't a negotiation tactic.
This guy was really leaving.
"Minister Meng, my mind is made up," Jing Yu said, shaking his head.
If he ever wanted to return to Yunteng TV—or even one of the Big Six—the door would always be open. Even if he failed horribly over the next few years and lost everything, someone would pick him up. That's the level of reputation he'd earned from the success of 'Hikaru no Go', 'Initial D', and 'Steins;Gate'.
As long as he didn't do something outrageous like poop on a network director's desk or sleep with one of their wives, no executive would turn down a guy whose shows consistently dominated seasonal ratings and hit double-digit viewership.
Only a fool would.
"I want Yunteng TV to approve Cheng Lie's resignation," Jing Yu said. "And waive his non-compete clause."
Meng Yu's smile disappeared.
"Now that's ridiculous," he said sternly.
It was one thing for Jing Yu to leave—but taking Yunteng TV staff with him?
That crossed the line.
"I'll sell Yunteng TV a script," Jing Yu said calmly. "Same quality as 'Another'. In exchange."
'Another' had nearly a 4% average rating when it aired.
Sure, Yunteng TV's internal writing team could make shows that got in the 3% range if they put in the effort.
But this was still a very tempting offer.
And for Jing Yu, it wasn't much of a loss. He was just selling a script, not producing it. He wouldn't waste time filming or editing—just hand it off.
Meng Yu frowned and studied him.
"So you're really leaving?"
"Even if you don't let Cheng Lie go, I'm still leaving," Jing Yu replied. "But I am grateful for everything Yunteng TV's done this year. Even after leaving, I'd be open to working together again."
"I know it's not that Yunteng TV treated me badly. I'm just... greedy."
He wasn't hiding anything. They were both smart people. No need for pretenses.
Meng Yu fell silent for a while.
That last sentence had hit home.
Jing Yu wasn't burning bridges—he was leaving the door open for future collaboration.
That possibility alone could be more valuable than retaining Cheng Lie.
Because if someone else came to Yunteng TV with a 3–4% rating show, they wouldn't even listen.
But if Jing Yu brought them a 'Hikaru no Go'- or 'Initial D'-tier series and only asked for them to buy the broadcast rights?
Of course, they'd take it.
So was Jing Yu subtly saying: Don't damage this relationship over one guy.
Meng Yu let out a long breath.
"Two scripts," he said, switching to business mode.
"One," Jing Yu replied.
Even though he didn't hold 'Another' in that high a regard anymore—and the script he planned to sell was likely something he'd never film—he wasn't about to take a loss.
"Fine. One script. But you star in it."
If nothing else, putting Jing Yu in the cast—even just as a cameo—could boost ratings by 1%.
"Supporting role, at most. I don't have the time to lead it."
Meng Yu hesitated, then nodded.
Jing Yu was irreplaceable. But Cheng Lie wasn't—especially if he was already planning to leave.
So... cut a deal.
January 12th.
Cheng Lie successfully received his resignation letter.
He felt a twinge of melancholy.
After all, this had been his home for a decade. Yunteng TV had never treated him unfairly—he earned what he deserved.
He genuinely liked it there.
But he also knew that without connections, he'd never move beyond "senior producer" level. He'd never be in Meng Yu's position.
With Jing Yu?
The floor might be a crash-and-burn failure, but the ceiling... he had no idea how high it could go.
Outside Yunteng TV, Jing Yu was waiting in the car.
"How does freedom feel?" Jing Yu joked as Cheng Lie climbed in.
"Kinda terrifying. I'm officially unemployed now." Cheng Lie's large frame barely fit in the compact car.
"What are you afraid of? Between 'Hikaru no Go', 'Initial D', and 'Steins;Gate', even with just 1.5% royalties, you'll never go broke. Maybe not filthy rich, but you're set."
"You wish. You think one series pays for a lifetime? In another year or two, that money will dry up."
"What I do regret," Jing Yu said, "is letting Yunteng TV keep the rights to all three."
"Don't blame me. Shouldn't have dragged you into Yunteng TV," Cheng Lie laughed.
Of course, they both knew—even if it hadn't been Yunteng TV, it would've been some other network. No one could've pulled off those hits without a major broadcaster behind them.
"So what now?" Cheng Lie asked as Jing Yu drove.
"I already registered the company. Here—take a look."
Jing Yu handed him a document.
[Blue Star Media & Film Co.]
Cheng Lie blinked.
"Blue Star? That's the name?"
"Yeah. What's wrong with it?"
"You and your names, man. All your dramas have the weirdest names —'Shou Aimei(Emi Fukuju)', 'Yuan Cunxi(Haruki Kitahara)'... even 'Hikaru no Go' had characters named Yu Liang(Akira Toya) and Jing Guang(Hikaru Shindo). Everyone knows you just took your own name and split it in half!"
"..."
"Now you start a company and call it 'Blue Star Media'? Why not Mars Entertainment or something badass?"
Jing Yu was speechless.
Take a long look in the mirror, Cheng Lie.
The documents he handed over included a full breakdown of the new company's structure.
Yu Youqing and Xia Yining each got 1.5% equity, while Cheng Lie would receive 4%.
Of course, everyone had to invest according to their share. If a drama costs 50 million to produce, Cheng Lie would need to put in 2 million.
At first glance, a few percent might seem small—but given Jing Yu's past success, those shares could be worth tens of millions in profit.
One 'Hikaru no Go'-level hit, and 4% would mean eight figures.
Of course, if it flopped, they could lose everything.
But Jing Yu wasn't the type to hoard equity from his startup team.
"I'm in," Cheng Lie said after reading it.
"So, what's the plan? What's your first production—drama?"
Jing Yu slowed the car.
"Not planning to shoot a drama for now."
"What??"
Cheng Lie looked like he'd been hit by a truck.
"You're not... wait. You're not shooting some 18+ late-night smut film, are you?"
Jing Yu nearly crashed into a guardrail.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he snapped.
"I've done a year of back-to-back TV. I'm burned out. I want to make... a movie."
In Great Zhou, the line between TV and film wasn't that clear. Just like in Japan, actors moved between both worlds all the time. A side story from a drama could even get a theatrical release.
Unlike in China from his past life, where movie stars rarely touched TV (unless their careers were dying), Great Zhou's industry was much more fluid—and competitive.
TV dramas relied on TV networks. Without a Big Six network airing your show, you'd probably flop.
But movies? They rose or fell based on quality—and promotion.
Both required one thing: investment.
"You're seriously going for it, huh?" Cheng Lie muttered.
"Why not?" Jing Yu replied. "If I'm going to do it eventually, may as well start now."
For him, movies were just another way to gain fans—and profits.
"If you're going into film, I can help," Cheng Lie said. "I've made plenty of contacts. I know distributors and theaters. You might not get top-tier deals, but with the right budget, we'll get respectable placement."
"But Jing Yu... your fame, your fans—everything is from TV. TV and movie audiences overlap, sure, but they're not the same. Plenty of drama stars flopped when they switched to film."
"You're used to writing 12–16 episodes per quarter. Films are a whole different format. And doing it right after leaving Yunteng TV, with zero experience—that's a big risk."
Jing Yu looked over.
"Have you seen my debut project?"
"Of course. 'My Tomorrow, Your Yesterday'."
Then he paused.
"Wait... that wasn't a short series? That was... a movie script?!"
His eyes widened.
"You saw any problems with its pacing or structure?" Jing Yu asked.
"No… honestly, if that had gotten a theatrical release, it probably would've turned a solid profit. A million yuan budget? Not a chance it would've lost money. In fact… It's better than most 'blockbuster' films that claim to break 100 million at the box office."
Jing Yu pulled into the underground parking at his new apartment complex.
They headed up to his unit, and he rang the doorbell across the hall.
"Oh! You're back, Teacher Jing Yu ~" Xia Yining answered in adorable reindeer pajamas, legs bare, slippers on her feet.
"Go get Yu Youqing. We're having a company meeting," Jing Yu said, looking away awkwardly.
"Okay~"
"And… wear something more formal. Cheng Lie is here too."
"What, afraid I'll flash him and distract your star producer?" she teased.
"Jealous?"
Jing Yu inhaled, ready to scold her—
"Got it, got it. I'll tell Yu-jie. We'll be right over," she said, shutting the door quickly before he could say more.
"One minute," she'd said.
It was more like ten.
But when the two women walked in, dressed in elegant long dresses—one pale green, the other soft blue—the wait was understandable.
Yu Youqing was graceful and gentle; Xia Yining was icy and chic.
Cheng Lie was stunned.
Jing Yu had told him they lived across the hall—he hadn't believed it.
Now?
He was starting to wonder about their "just friends" claim.
"Alright."
Blue Star Media's four shareholders—and only four employees—were finally assembled.
Jing Yu brought out four printed scripts and handed three of them over.
Everyone's expression turned serious.
"Love Letter," Yu Youqing read softly.
"Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal," Xia Yining followed.
Cheng Lie scratched his head.
He'd thought Jing Yu was all over the place, making it up as he went.
But now…
He wasn't unprepared at all.
He was waiting for the right moment.