Chapter 9: Cats Listen to Drama

In Meeting Room 308 of the Earth Government, the atmosphere was heavy. It felt as if they had returned to that powerless, inexpressibly angry state from the days of the cultural blockade.

Cen Lan spoke with an expressionless face, her voice slicing through the congealed air: “There are major issues with the data released by the Interstellar Federation. The impact of our culture this past year is far greater than that number suggests.”

“Deputy Minister Cen, admitting one’s shortcomings isn’t a bad thing.” The representative from the Northern Region lounged in his seat, as if stating a universal truth. “Why not consider that our method of cultural export is at fault? The authority of the rankings is not for us to question at will. Don’t overestimate your own importance.”

Cen Lan’s hand, resting on the table, clenched and relaxed. “What we export is the distilled essence of millennia, delivered in a way that both entertains and educates. The acceptance by alien audiences, the surge in interest in learning Huaxia language—these are concrete evidence of our success.”

“Fan wars are also part of your ‘civilizational essence’?” scoffed the representative from Aurum.

“So in your eyes, all you can see are the black spots on a white page?” Cen Lan replied calmly.

Minister Li tapped the table. “The achievements of Youjian Entertainment can’t be denied. But this time, the numbers… are indeed unsightly.”

Cen Lan laced her fingers together, saying nothing.

“‘Wu Zetian’ has a great reputation—serious historical content, perhaps more in line with the tastes of the major star systems. This year, let’s focus on the Earth Entertainment Alliance Association.” Minister Li made the decision in a few short sentences. “Youjian Entertainment’s budget will be reduced accordingly, Deputy Minister, for the greater good.”

“Understood.” Cen Lan’s tone was utterly devoid of emotion.

Minister Li nodded. “That’s all for today. Meeting adjourned.”

Everyone left the conference room, leaving Cen Lan alone at her seat for a long time, until Xiao He came to remind her. Only then did she stand up.

“Jingyu is probably getting anxious. Let’s go.”

·

Feng Jingyu had indeed been waiting for a while—not just her, but Yu Huaiyin and S-77 as well.

As always, it was Feng Jingyu’s favorite hotpot.

Cen Lan brought Xiao He in with her. Xiao He was still a bit nervous, but soon relaxed under Feng Jingyu’s warm welcome.

Throughout the meal, everyone tacitly avoided mentioning the “approval rating,” chatting instead about interesting things.

As the meal was drawing to a close, it was Feng Jingyu who finally broached the subject.

“Sister Cen Lan, in the end… how did they decide?”

Yu Huaiyin, who had been eating with his head down, immediately looked up at Feng Jingyu, concern in his eyes.

S-77, seeing Yu Huaiyin’s reaction, also turned his gaze over.

Cen Lan hadn’t expected Feng Jingyu to be so direct. She hesitated a moment before answering, “The budget was cut. This year’s focus is the Earth Entertainment Alliance Association.” She paused, her voice lowering, “Sorry, the production cycle for ‘Journey to the West’… will probably be extended.”

Feng Jingyu laughed as soon as she heard this. “That’s it? Just less money? For a moment I thought the company was going under.”

Seeing her so unconcerned, Cen Lan felt a little of the tension in her heart ease, and managed a wry smile. “The company’s revenue is healthy, but shouldering the production cost of ‘Journey to the West’ alone will be a bit of a strain.”

“Don’t worry, once my new project gets going, money won’t be a problem.” Feng Jingyu patted Cen Lan’s shoulder.

“What new project?” Yu Huaiyin pressed.

Feng Jingyu smiled mysteriously.

“Retro e-sports.”

·

The decision from the meeting quickly reached the Earth Entertainment Alliance Association. As usual, an online meeting was held, but for once, the opening was silent.

Number 1, as the lead, broke the stalemate: “Everyone, what do you think of the higher-ups’ decision?”

“To be honest, normally I’d be popping champagne,” Number 4 sighed. “But given the current situation… I just can’t. Whatever else you say, that girl carried the pressure and got things to this point. I’m not half as capable.”

Number 2 blurted out, “Aren’t you usually the one who dislikes her the most?”

Number 4 snorted. “Disliking her and failing to recognize the facts are two different things.”

Number 3 chimed in, “I agree with Number 4. It took all of us working together to produce just one ‘Wu Zetian.’ Government support is great, but what exactly is the standard for ‘serious culture’? We can’t just keep making historical dramas forever.”

Number 6 nodded. “That girl found her own path at the start, without any standards, and still made it big. Now that we’re forced to set a standard, we don’t even know where to begin.”

Number 5 gave a bitter laugh. “The directive’s come down, but the road ahead is still ours to find. Those words—‘serious culture’—are too vague.”

Number 2 looked around, testing the waters: “How about… we ask that girl for her thoughts? The ‘Wu Zetian’ collaboration went well. Asking her for some direction isn’t shameful, is it?”

“Agreed,” Number 4 responded instantly, as if waiting for this.

The others nodded in turn.

Seeing the consensus, Number 1 spoke steadily, “I’ll sound out Deputy Minister Cen first.”

·

Cen Lan’s work focus had clearly shifted toward Youjian Entertainment lately. She still went to the government offices as usual, but spent much more time at Youjian.

When questioned by her superiors, she had a solid reason: Youjian Entertainment was preparing a major new project.

And it was true. Feng Jingyu’s vision for “retro e-sports” was as ambitious as “Journey to the West,” even requiring the creation of several entirely new departments.

In addition to the original art team, new programming, testing, and marketing teams had to be built from scratch, and the planning department needed major expansion.

Just recruiting staff was a massive undertaking.

Every Youjian Entertainment recruitment drew attention, and this time, the job requirements surprised many.

Youjian Entertainment was making a game?! This direction was, in fact, perfectly in line with their usual style.

The higher-ups, seeing this, stopped questioning Cen Lan’s attendance, and even allocated this year’s budget on schedule.

Cen Lan saw the numbers from finance—about a third less than last year. She gave a self-deprecating laugh. Maybe she should be grateful it wasn’t cut even more.

Xiao He came in with a stack of documents.

“Deputy Minister, the Earth Entertainment Alliance Association has sent an invitation, hoping Youjian Entertainment will join the association. If you agree, the association will provide a certain budget.” As Xiao He spoke, he placed the documents on Cen Lan’s desk.

Cen Lan didn’t move. “Conditions?”

Xiao He hesitated, then replied, “They hope Ms. Feng will… show them the way.”

·

“What? Me? Show them the way?” Feng Jingyu’s first reaction was one of utter confusion. “Since when did they think so highly of me?”

Feng Jingyu was aware of the Earth Entertainment Alliance Association, but they had always maintained a lofty attitude, so she never got involved—Cen Lan or others handled it.

Now they had come knocking, and with a fairly sincere offer. Feng Jingyu had no choice but to seriously consider it.

Seeing Feng Jingyu frowning, Cen Lan said, “You can refuse. Once our new project gets going, that budget will be insignificant.”

Feng Jingyu, who had been deep in thought, looked up at Cen Lan’s words and asked seriously, “Then what do you think, Sister Cen Lan?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Cen Lan answered according to her true feelings: “Work with them. We have no real grudges, and our collaboration on ‘Wu Zetian’ went well. The more friends, the fewer enemies.”

“Then let’s do it.” Feng Jingyu snapped her fingers. “Forget the budget—money like that is a drop in the bucket for us. Let’s ask for something else.”

“What condition?”

“Have their post-production team come to our company and give our new hires some training.”

·

Three months later, Youjian Entertainment quietly launched a new app called “Kitty Radio Theatre.”

The app had two main sections: Audiobooks and Radio Dramas.

The Audiobook section was just what you’d expect—professional voice actors reading classic literary works with deep emotion.

Additionally, to cater to alien listeners, Youjian Entertainment had purchased the rights to a large number of alien books, also read by professional voice actors. Even more impressive, users could choose between Huaxia language and Interstellar Common.

Of course, all of this was paid content. VIP members could listen without limits. Aliens who tried the free samples quickly fell in love with this new way of “reading”—they could listen to novels while doing other things. Many immediately purchased memberships.

The Radio Drama section featured multi-actor audio dramas and broadcasts, mostly adaptations of online literature.

These, too, were paid content, but unlike audiobooks, VIP membership did not apply—each drama was a one-time purchase.

People wondered why a single app would have two different payment models, until someone bought a radio drama and triggered the underage protection mode. Then, everyone instantly understood.

Amazed at the professionalism of the voice actors, and listening to content that defied description, people of all tastes found their own happiness here.

“Kitty Radio Theatre” was a huge success, giving Youjian Entertainment yet another stable source of income.

But on Cen Lan’s side, she soon faced questioning from above.