Chapter 110: A Race Against Time

If it’s just a poverty alleviation drama, there’s really no substance, Director. I’ve uploaded it!

The editor sneered.

Poverty alleviation dramas have been popular these past two years, but honestly, such projects can’t afford top directors, have no stars, and generate zero buzz. Worst of all, the plots are unimaginably ordinary.

“Go ahead!”

Ren Long waved his hand.

“Alright.”

Night fell.

Back at the hotel, Fang Hou enjoyed a comfortable shower. After several hectic days, he finally got a chance to unwind.

But barely had he sunk into the sofa when his phone started ringing.

He picked it up and saw it was Xu Hao calling.

“Monkey, have you sorted things out over there?”

As soon as he answered, Xu Hao’s voice came through.

“It’s all set. This afternoon, we just delivered the footage to the TV station, and the contract is fully signed.”

At the mention of business, Fang Hou’s expression turned serious.

“Good, then book the tickets tonight—we must reach Mingsha County by tomorrow afternoon. We need you for the new drama’s filing and everything else!”

“That urgent?”

Fang Hou was taken aback for a moment.

He and Xu Hao had only discussed the new project in broad strokes before—nothing concrete had been decided.

“Yeah, the guesthouse side has taken on a tourism festival. They need some projects to back it up.”

Xu Hao added.

“Tourism festival? Tengwang Pavilion hosting a festival? On our end, we haven’t even finalized accommodations for our staff—how are we supposed to handle a festival?”

Hearing about the festival nearly made Fang Hou drop his phone.

Though not an expert, he knew full well that the guesthouse currently lacked the capacity to host such an event.

“Sigh, it’s complicated—but it’s decided: the tourism festival opens on October 20th! Relying solely on ‘Wulin Wai Chuan’ as our backup isn’t enough; we need to launch another major drama! Two shows will at least preserve our face.”

A trace of fatigue seeped into Xu Hao’s voice.

Zhu Qiang, Luo Peng, and the others were as busy as spinning tops, yet he managed even more—juggling between Tingchao Pavilion and Wudi City, it felt like not a minute was his own.

This tourism festival might not be a grand spectacle, but it must offer visitors something fresh—no more circling only Qixia Town and Tengwang Pavilion.

“Alright then, I’m heading back tomorrow! Setting up the project should be manageable—but what about the cast and locations? Are we reusing the old drama’s actors?”

Coming back to himself,

Fang Hou took a deep breath.

Since the boss insisted, even if we lack resources, we’ll make it work.

“If we can use the actors from the previous project, then that’s that; if not, we’ll scout externally. Either way, get back first!”

“Alright! See you tomorrow afternoon.”

After hanging up, Fang Hou lost all desire to sleep and immediately booked a flight on his computer.

The night passed in silence.

Early the next morning, Fang Hou arrived at Yan City Airport, and by 3 p.m. he reached the entrance of Hongsha Gang Village.

However, when he saw the scene before him, he could hardly believe his eyes.

Having left Qixia Town for Yan City less than two weeks ago, he almost thought he’d taken a wrong turn if he hadn’t double-checked.

At the village entrance, trucks hauling lumber formed a long line as they unloaded. Ten makeshift wooden sheds had been erected, each sheltering about twenty carpenters. The relentless buzz of chainsaws, sparks flying everywhere, and nearly every minute a timber piece was tagged and moved to another truck.

And that was just the beginning.

In addition to the lumber trucks, a long line of dump trucks slowly made their way toward the guesthouse.

In short, the scene was breathtakingly grand.

“With all this hustle, I’d believe you could build Tengwang Pavilion in two days!”

Fang Hou drew a deep breath.

He continued walking inside.

With no other option, catching another ride was impossible—he had to walk.

The five-kilometer road wasn’t long, yet when Fang Hou, suitcase in hand, reached the juncture of the road and the plot, the sight before him left him speechless.

At the junction, he saw a parking lot on his right and an ancient-style building complex—three structures outside and three inside—while in front of the lot stood a row of five more archaic buildings.

Even though these structures exuded historical charm, workers inside labored tirelessly.

Looking further along Qing Brick Avenue, stacks of marked lumber lined both sides, stretching deep into the desert—a sight even more magnificent than the scene at Hongsha Gang Village.

“Damn, Hao, are you really pulling out all the stops? It’s only been half a month!”

Finally snapping back to reality,

Fang Hou gathered his wits and continued deeper inside.

Luckily, the public carriage service along Qing Brick Avenue was still running; he hopped on one and headed for Oasis 2.

On the way, Xu Hao messaged that he was at Oasis 2 and to go over there immediately for business.

Little did he know, Fang Hou’s shock was only beginning—by the time he reached Oasis 2 an hour later, he was utterly speechless.

At Oasis 2’s Lakeside, a massive foundation had been erected with over a dozen carpenters busy at work, while the northern part of the Shadou area had been completely leveled.

It spanned an area equivalent to about twenty football fields.

Along the plot’s edge, every seven or eight meters lay thousands of antique blue bricks and slate pieces, with masons marking measurements—the perimeter foundation was clearly finished.

“Hao, you’re really going all out, aren’t you?”

About half an hour later, when Fang Hou found Xu Hao by the lakeside foundation, he couldn’t hold back everything he’d been bottling up.

“What can we do? We can’t afford to lose face!”

Xu Hao glanced at Fang Hou, pulled him aside, and said, “You’re just in time—I’ve finished the script. Our costume martial arts drama is called ‘Snowy Blade Chronicles.’ In a bit, check out the script. Most major scenes will be shot by that lakeside pavilion and the under-construction small ancient city.”

“A small ancient city? You’re not losing face, you’re making waves!”

Fang Hou glanced at the distant construction site.

The site was as big as three or four Qixia Towns; if completed before the festival, the guesthouse’s scale would surpass most attractions in Su Province.

“Enough chatter. For other scenes, we’ll scout in Mingsha County if possible; if not, we build them ourselves. The script is in Room 23.”

After speaking, Xu Hao took out a key and handed it to Fang Hou.

“Alright then, I’ll review the script and work on the project proposal.”

Fang Hou took a deep breath, accepted the key, and headed toward the guesthouse.

Mingsha County Government Building

While Mingsha Tourism was bustling at every level, leaders like Wang Xun and Qin Xuan felt increasingly redundant—not because they didn’t want to help, but because they felt utterly incapable of making a difference.

“Boss, it seems Xu County has overreached this time. If provincial leaders catch wind of his actions, who knows if they’ll be knocked out by anger. The original plan was to gradually phase out the festival by lowering standards here in Mingsha County, but now with Mingsha Tourism’s investment…”

After a long pause, Qin Xuan couldn’t help but let out a bitter smile.

“Knocked out by anger? They chose Mingsha County only to run into Xu County—clearly underestimating Xu County’s ‘no loss of face’ standard.”

Wang Xun lifted his tea cup and sipped slowly.