Chapter 161: Blueprints of Ambition

Since it won’t affect the progress of other projects, I’ll come back tomorrow, finalize the script, and get the project approved! Maybe we can even hit the Spring Festival season this year!

Fang Hou replied promptly.

Filming a movie takes much less time compared to a TV series.

There was a movie shot in just seven days that still managed to score impressive box office numbers and rave reviews. Both Mingsha Tourism and Haofang Culture work at breakneck speed! “Yeah! Let’s check things out when we return—if it fits, that’s best! Lately, Mingsha Tourism’s cash flow has been a major issue.”

Xu Hao sighed.

Even though the guesthouses in Mingsha are packed and the new traditional wedding service has created quite a stir, generating substantial daily revenue, Mingsha Tourism’s expenses are even higher.

The city walls on both sides of the gate relentlessly stretch north and south, not to mention Oasis 3’s Langya Pavilion, a hastily organized ancient commercial street, the Vermilion Bird Building, and the ancient hotels flanking it.

These projects are like a giant gold-devouring beast, gulping down millions every day.

Especially the expansion project for the city walls on either side of the gate.

The entire desert spans 2,500 square kilometers. Enclose it all and you’d have four city gates, 36 watchtowers, and nearly 250 kilometers of walls about ten meters wide.

Just imagine the scale of that undertaking.

It would take at least hundreds of billions to pull off, so we have to continually find new ways to fund it.

“Haozi, I’m signing off now—I need to board shortly.”

“Travel safe,” came the reply.

After the call ended, Xu Hao stepped up to the scale model and scrutinized it intently.

After a long while,

Xu Hao picked up a small marker, pondered a bit, then placed it on a sand ridge not far from the Vermilion Bird Building.

At noon, Hongsha Gang Village 256 buzzed with activity; Qing Brick Avenue, Qixia Town, and Wudi City were teeming with tourists, while Ning An Cultural Tourism looked downright desolate.

After a snowfall, only a few staff members could be spotted—tourists were nearly nonexistent.

Ning An Cultural Tourism Office Building

Qi Haoyong leaned back in his chair, massaging his temples, as three middle-aged men sat across from him.

“How can Mingsha Tourism be so fast? They built a Vermilion Bird Building in just seven days—and it even resembles the legendary Yellow Crane Tower. It’s like they erected a Yellow Crane Tower in a week!”

After a long pause, Qi Haoyong muttered dejectedly.

The day he searched for Mingsha Ancient City Weddings on his phone, he couldn’t keep his composure.

He’d assumed Mingsha Tourism could only handle Qixia Town and Wudi City, but before he knew it, another Vermilion Bird Building had popped up.

Just as Ran Xiangfei had mentioned, Ning An Cultural Tourism was making extra efforts—otherwise, even with connections, they might not clinch the film festival rights.

So, the first thing they did upon returning to Ning An was to round up several chief executives from faux ancient architecture companies.

“Chief Qi, this Vermilion Bird Building is likely constructed entirely of wood, with pre-made mortise and tenon parts, and required an enormous workforce to pull off in just a week!”

Upon hearing this,

a man across the table paused and said,

“So, can you pull it off?”

Qi Haoyong leaned forward.

“Impossible! Chief Qi, you said it yourself—Xu Hao at Mingsha Tourism is a senior researcher at the Long Kingdom Ancient Architecture Research Institute. This wooden building is undoubtedly his work.”

And aside from the late and those past their prime, how many senior researchers does Long Kingdom truly have?

The three men exchanged smiles and added,

“If they had that caliber, why run a faux ancient architecture company? They could become senior researchers and enjoy deputy bureau-level perks—wouldn’t that be much better?”

“So there’s no solution then?”

Qi Haoyong couldn’t hide his disappointment.

On his way back, he resolved to expand the film city before February—with Mingsha Tourism acting as the production investor backing an epic ancient costume film. It was a final showdown with Mingsha Tourism! He would never do this with other venues, but since both Mingsha Tourism and Ning An Cultural Tourism are desert-edge film IPs—and Mingsha keeps churning out new gimmicks that Ning An can’t mimic—it was now or never.

Nowadays, the very mention of desert tourism instantly brings Mingsha Tourism to mind; Ning An Cultural Tourism isn’t even considered.

So, even if it means going out with a bang, they’d rather not be slowly worn down by Mingsha Tourism.

“There’s still a way. If we can’t do it in wood, we can use reinforced concrete. As long as Chief Qi’s funds come in on time, nothing is impossible!”

One company alone might not cut it, but the three of us joining forces can overcome this, right?

The man across glanced at Qi Haoyong.

“Can’t we do non-wooden construction in winter?”

Qi Haoyong quickly interjected.

“As I said, as long as Chief Qi’s funds are secure—even if we use antifreeze cement, pitch tents, or set up fire pits inside—nothing’s out of reach.”

“Alright then, I’ll contact some directors and screenwriters. If we need any specific ancient architecture scenes, I’ll reach out to you guys!”

That settled things, and Qi Haoyong’s expression softened a bit.

“Chief Qi, could you roughly outline the scale of the ancient architecture? What type are we looking at? We need to be prepared!”

The man across spoke up again.

“Type? It hasn’t been finalized yet, but there will definitely be a pavilion similar to the Vermilion Bird Building, along with an imposing ancient temple hall.”

After a moment’s thought, Qi Haoyong said,

“Constructing a Vermilion Bird Building is purely to rival Mingsha Tourism. And the ancient temple hall is key—Mingsha may have grand ancient city gates, but they lack a temple hall. If Ning An has one, we gain the upper hand at the film festival.”

As for the rest of the movie scenes, we’ll just cobble something together from the existing film city.

“Oh, got it!”

“By the way, if we’re building these two structures, approximately how much would it cost?”

After taking a deep breath, Qi Haoyong asked again.

“One building would run about 100 million, and an ancient temple hall roughly 200 million,”

the man replied.

“That expensive?”

Qi Haoyong was taken aback.

“Nothing can be done. Chief Qi, you’re on a tight deadline operating in winter, so prices are bound to be high! Moreover, I heard films in the Spring Festival season can rake in 500 to 600 million, maybe even 1 to 2 billion if they hit the mark. Who’d be worried about a 300-million investment in ancient architecture?”

The man across added,

“Alright then, I’ll be in touch.”

Qi Haoyong fell silent.

In truth,

he secretly harbored ambitions—Spring Festival films are a goldmine. If they could snag a taste of that profit and clinch the film festival rights, it would be killing three birds with one stone.

“Yeah!”

Night fell deeper.

Winter nights are long; even at 10 PM, it feels like the early hours of a summer night.

Haofang Culture Office Building

Xu Xin sat at her desk, with a young man across from her—none other than actor Hu Xiao.

“Boss Xu, it’s not that I don’t want to, but this could stir up controversy for Haofang Culture! You must have seen it this afternoon; several actors who didn’t land the lead have vented their complaints on Weibo.”

After a pause, Hu Xiao added,

It turns out

that after two rounds of auditions today, Haofang Culture confirmed him as the lead for Langya Pavilion. To be honest, he never expected to land the lead—he originally came to try his luck for a supporting role.

Of course, landing the lead is even better!

However, while negotiating his fee, Haofang’s agent proposed signing Hu Xiao as a contracted artist. For someone who hadn’t had solid roles in ages, it was a great opportunity—but Hu Xiao hesitated.

Later that evening, many actors questioned his casting as the lead on Weibo, alluding to insider favoritism. He shrugged it off—after years of enduring criticism, especially post-injury, he knew Haofang Culture couldn’t afford any bad press now, not when the drama was so eagerly anticipated by both investors and Yan City TV.

“Hu Xiao, this is all trivial—just ignore it! Besides, it wasn’t even about you; it was for me! You got the lead because your experience and demeanor perfectly match that of a protagonist. That’s it!”

“As for signing you to our agency, it’s because a talent like you should never be overlooked. Joining Haofang Agency would keep the opportunities coming your way.”

“If you only do this one drama, the future’s uncertain. You know how Haofang Culture and the Director Association are linked!”

“Top-tier stars might not care, but without proper representation, someone like you could struggle!”

Xu Xin waved her hand, signaling Hu Xiao not to overthink.

“Was it on your behalf?”

Hu Xiao was taken aback.

“Yeah!”

Xu Xin smiled.

No one knew why Li Mei had posted such critical Weibo comments, but Xu Xin did. In the past, business dealings made one cautious—but now, backed by Old Six’s solid financial support, why worry about such opinions? After all, this was just the beginning.

“Boss Xu, I’m not that popular yet. The contract you offered feels too generous—I don’t feel I deserve it.”

Hu Xiao, aware there was more behind the Weibo controversy, still hesitated.

The posts by other stars had garnered massive fan support—almost no one was supporting him.

“Hehehe, don’t worry. Our Haofang Agency’s artists are notorious for being past their prime. Isn’t Tiger Leopard Band considered outdated? Even a boy band we recently reached out to has long been irrelevant! Plus, those leads from the County Troupe in Wulin Wai Chuan started out as extras. So, what’s there to fear?”

Xu Xin laughed.

It wasn’t a joke—the facts were plain to see.

“Ah,”

“So…”

“Boss Xu, then I’ll sign up!”

At that point, Hu Xiao didn’t hesitate any further.

In winter, Yan City in the north remained bitterly cold.

In a hotel not far from Yan City TV, Li Yang, the lead singer of Tiger Leopard Band, lay in bed scrolling through his phone. As he read, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Old Wang, is someone trying to mess with our company?”