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Chapter 545 - Chapter 545 - Preview

By late May, filming for the three new TV dramas under Jing Yu's company had fully entered a steady rhythm.

Although Jing Yu only made a guest appearance alongside Xia Yining in 'Ef: A Tale of Memories', the sets for 'My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected' and 'Hyouka' were located very close by.

With his multiple identities—investor, company owner, screenwriter, and head of music production—all rolled into one, every time Jing Yu visited the sets, everyone from producers to directors grew visibly tense.

There was no need to worry about anyone slacking off. Once word spread that Jing Yu's 'Ef: A Tale of Memories' crew was less than a ten-minute drive away, everyone worked at full throttle every single day.

Back when he acted in his own projects, watching them always felt a bit strange. But over the past two years, with newly signed actors taking the lead roles in the company's dramas, Jing Yu had gradually grown addicted to the feeling of "chasing shows."

Especially when it came to the footage from 'Hyouka' and 'My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected' that were still in production.

Even though post-production hadn't begun yet, watching the rough cuts submitted by his staff gave Jing Yu a genuine sense of nostalgia—almost like binge-watching anime in his past life.

Jing Yu wasn't a looks-first person—this was a common misunderstanding.

Among fans in Great Zhou, there was a belief that Jing Yu selected actors for his youth romance dramas purely based on acting skill. That wasn't entirely accurate.

More precisely, if your looks didn't meet the bar, your résumé would never even reach Jing Yu's desk. Without the right appearance, he wouldn't bother evaluating your acting at all. For realistic dramas, that might not matter—but for youth campus romance series, poor visuals were fatal to ratings, no matter how good the acting was.

That was why 'My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected', 'Hyouka', and 'Ef: A Tale of Memories' could be said to be maxed out in both acting ability and appearance.

Anyone with a named role was, at the very least, a conventionally attractive young man or woman. Even background extras looked clean and pleasant among the general population.

This was also why live-action adaptations in Jing Yu's past life were often mocked. Sometimes the issue wasn't the leads, but the supporting cast.

Anime rarely featured characters that made viewers uncomfortable—unless intentionally designed that way. But many live-action adaptations were… hard to describe. Odd-looking extras, thirty-year-old actresses playing high school girls, or performers barely 1.4 meters tall cast in inappropriate roles—it was impossible not to be pulled out of the story.

In the past, Jing Yu's works couldn't fully avoid these problems. As the lead actor himself, his own appearance was never criticized, but the supporting roles inevitably were.

But now—

"So this is the advantage of being famous," Jing Yu sighed.

"To think such a low-budget production can attract so many good-looking actors."

Many of the extras were actually minor celebrities in certain regions. Yet they came to Jing Yu's sets for what was essentially minimum pay, just to get a speaking role. As long as audiences remembered their faces when the show aired, their goal was achieved.

Unlike before, now any project with Jing Yu credited as screenwriter attracted a flood of applicants even for minor roles. Among all production teams in Great Zhou, Jing Yu's crews were the most fiercely competitive.

And precisely because of that—

"It really feels like a full-on two-dimensional aesthetic," Jing Yu thought.

For the first time, he felt that even in a live-action drama, every on-screen character—including extras—was visually cohesive. Re-examining the stories of 'My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected', 'Hyouka', and 'Ef: A Tale of Memories' under these conditions made the experience completely different.

Even if these three dramas wouldn't rank among Jing Yu's highest-rated works after airing in the second half of the year, they would definitely be his most visually striking.

After finishing the July-bound footage for 'My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected', Jing Yu turned his attention to another document submitted by his staff.

A progress report on the production of 'Spirited Away'.

This was a film with an investment of several hundred million, scheduled for release during next year's Spring Festival season. Naturally, the entire company treated it with utmost importance.

Live-action filming had already wrapped, and part of post-production was complete—enough to cut together short promotional videos.

The team recommended beginning marketing campaigns across major theater chains starting in June.

Buying traffic, paying cinemas to start running promotional materials immediately.

Starting promotion half a year before release might seem early, but for a film aiming at the Great Zhou box office rankings, such a strategy was necessary.

Whether in Jing Yu's past life or in Great Zhou, films targeting the box office charts often began promotion six months to a year in advance—periodically releasing harmless bits of news, sustaining hype for months, spending hundreds of millions on marketing, and even subsidizing ticket prices just before release to draw audiences into theaters.

Without that level of commitment, relying on last-minute promotion usually capped box office earnings at a few hundred million at best.

Jing Yu wasn't used to treating his works with this level of fanfare. He'd always believed that good wine didn't need a loud alley.

But then again—if you could afford a storefront on a busy street, why open your tavern in a back alley?

With a decisive stroke, he approved the marketing plan. An extra few tens or hundreds of millions in promotion wasn't much to worry about, given the company's current cash reserves.

Films, TV dramas, and games—

By the end of May, the three core sectors of Jing Yu's company all began making major moves simultaneously.

And on the final Saturday of May—

The latest episode of 'Attack on Titans' aired.

The agonizing choice that had tormented viewers for an entire week was resolved immediately, without any dragging.

Eren and Mikasa nearly came to blows with Levi over whether Armin or Erwin should live. In the end, persuaded by the remaining comrades, they handed the choice over to Levi.

Who didn't have someone they cared about deeply?

Among the scattered corpses inside and outside the Walls, there were surely others like Armin and Erwin—still clinging to their last breath. Any of them could be saved with the serum and Bertholdt's body.

If Erwin didn't deserve to live, why did Armin?

Why should everyone else die?

Ultimately, everyone chose Erwin.

Not because he was beloved—after all, under Erwin's command, the Survey Corps had the highest mortality rate. Many respected him, but few truly liked him.

But everyone understood one thing:

For the Survey Corps, the most valuable person was their commander.

Just when viewers thought that was Jing Yu's answer—

Just when even Levi had chosen to save him—

Erwin, unconscious, knocked Levi's arm away as he held the syringe.

He muttered the same childhood question that had haunted him for decades:

"Why did the authors of our history textbooks dare to conclude… that humanity only exists within the Walls?"

A man who had spent his entire life chasing the truth.

In a world of devouring and being devoured, perhaps only the truth—and death—held meaning for Erwin.

He had already made his choice when facing the Beast Titan: to sacrifice himself and abandon his dream.

Was saving him truly saving him?

Or was it forcing him back from hell to shoulder the Survey Corps and continue struggling in this cruel world?

For Erwin, might death have been a greater relief?

This was Levi's understanding.

And so, at the final moment, Levi changed his mind and chose to save Armin.

Mindless Titan Armin was born.

Then came Bertholdt—the Colossal Titan's helpless human host, limbs severed—fed to Armin.

Thus, the Battle to Reclaim Wall Maria came to an end.

Just when viewers thought the arc was over—

The final scene appeared.

Eren's basement.

His father's most treasured possession.

A photograph.

In a world whose technology barely surpassed medieval levels—roughly equivalent to Ming-dynasty-era tech—where firearms existed but were primitive—

A single photograph was enough to make countless fans' scalps tingle.

"What kind of world is this?"

"If Eren's father came from outside the Walls twenty years ago—and photography already existed—then the civilization outside is at least a century ahead."

"By Great Zhou's historical analogy, that's steam-age or beyond."

"My head hurts… This show has already run two full seasons, and there are only about twenty episodes left. Is the old thief really opening a new worldbuilding angle now?"

"I'm confused—but excited!"

"This is risky. Introducing photographs this late could easily backfire."

"But come on—this is Jing Yu. Does anyone still think he'd let the worldbuilding collapse at the end?"

"When you put it that way… yeah, I weirdly trust him."

As in Jing Yu's past life, this episode sparked intense discussion among fans.

For a series that had already run nearly forty episodes across two seasons, maintaining this level of innovation was unimaginable.

But Jing Yu's name itself was a guarantee.

A bad ending? Worldbuilding collapse?

Fans joked—but no one truly believed it.

May came to an end. June began.

'Attack on Titans' still had over a season's worth of story left, but Jing Yu had no intention of dragging it into a bloated yearly epic.

Viewer fatigue was real.

He planned to finish airing the entire story before autumn, around September or October.

Though the remaining material was long, extending episode runtimes slightly and trimming obvious filler would be manageable.

Fans entered June full of anticipation.

And just as the month began—before 'Attack on Titans' could spark its next wave of debate—

A different work exploded across the internet.

The first teaser for 'Spirited Away'.

June 2nd, 10 a.m.

On Yunteng TV, the BlueStar Media & Film Company website, and the Qingyun Video homepage, a mere 37-second teaser spread across Great Zhou within half a day.

It had been over half a year since Jing Yu announced the production of 'Spirited Away'.

A film with hundreds of millions invested, scheduled for next year's Spring Festival season—expectations were sky-high.

After all, Jing Yu's previous theatrical release, 'Castle in the Sky', had proven its quality.

Could this new film surpass it?

Until now, 'Spirited Away' had struggled to compete with the overwhelming popularity of 'Attack on Titan'.

But that didn't mean it lacked impact.

With just a short teaser, Jing Yu's movie fans erupted.

"What is this movie even about?"

"A fantasy adventure?"

"There are monsters in the trailer—what is this?!"

"Soot creatures, spider monsters, humans turning into pigs, and that boy played by Jing Yu turning into a dragon—this is insane!"

"The soot spirits still have to work carrying coal—too pitiful."

"Wasn't this supposed to be a coming-of-age story for a girl? How did it turn into fantasy?"

"It always had these elements. He said the theme was growth—fantasy and growth don't conflict."

"Exactly—just like 'My Tomorrow, Your Yesterday'. It had fantasy elements and character growth."

"But Jing Yu's White Dragon role is ridiculously handsome. He's in his thirties—how does he still look like that?"

The preview had only just begun.

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