Take your lousy script and get out of here.

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Beijing, Xingyao Company.

The lazy afternoon sunlight streamed into the office area.

It was lunchtime, and most people were cracking sunflower seeds and chatting idly. Yet, there was one figure hunched over a computer screen, fingers flying over the keyboard in earnest.

“Look at him—he’s probably writing another script, isn’t he?”

“Hah, write as many as you want, it won’t change your luck for flops!”

“Serves him right for trying to snatch the screenwriters’ jobs from us. Now he has no way to shirk responsibility!”

“Who can blame him? Three box office bombs in a row—maybe the big boss doesn’t care, but will Vice President Cheng really let it slide?”

At the next workstation, several female colleagues gossiped as they nibbled on seeds, casting disdainful glances at Qian Lang.

He, however, remained oblivious, head down, fingers tapping rapidly.

Heh, their ridicule was for the original owner of this body. What did it matter to him, a transmigrator?

What mattered most was to quickly transcribe the script swirling in his mind.

Yes, you read that right.

As a transmigrator, Qian Lang had a golden finger.

When he arrived in this world yesterday, he discovered a treasure trove of artistic works hidden in his mind!

The contents were vast and varied—not just classic films and TV, but also high-quality music, novels, manga, and more.

He had truly struck gold!

Heh, in this world, where entertainment was scarce, wouldn’t any random work he produced set the market alight?

As long as he worked hard, he would never have to worry about food or clothing again.

Not to mention, he could clear his name and make up for the company’s financial losses caused by the original owner.

And if he aimed high, perhaps one day he could become the king of entertainment.

With that thought, Qian Lang felt even more motivated.

Xingyao was his first job. Though a rookie in the workplace, the big boss treated newcomers like him decently.

Previously, lack of ability could be excused; now, with this opportunity, shouldn’t he repay the favor?

Tap tap tap!

His fingers danced forcefully across the keyboard.

Beside him, the female colleagues rolled their eyes yet again.

“Qian Lang, the boss wants to see you!”

Suddenly, Wang Xingxing entered with a sullen horse face, his tone tinged with glee at another’s misfortune.

Qian Lang looked up. “Which boss?”

“Vice President Cheng wants you!”

“Oh, I’ll finish my script first—five minutes at most!”

Qian Lang bowed his head and continued typing.

Wang Xingxing’s eyes flashed with disdain, his tone even more mocking. “Well, I’ve delivered the message! If you’re late, don’t blame Vice President Cheng for not giving you a chance!”

At this, the nearby female colleagues glanced over, looking at Qian Lang as if he were an idiot.

About to get fired, and yet not rushing to kiss up—still writing some lousy script!

“Got it,” Qian Lang replied, unfazed, still immersed in his typing.

Wang Xingxing snorted and left the office.

The women pursed their lips and returned to their seeds.

Soon, the script was finished and printed.

Qian Lang was satisfied.

Even if this film didn’t set the market on fire, it would at least earn enough at the box office to make up for the company’s previous losses.

Heh, so what if he’d had three straight flops?

As long as he could make money in the end, that was enough!

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It wasn’t hard to guess why Vice President Cheng wanted to see him.

It was all about business performance, wasn’t it?

So, instead of standing there passively and enduring a scolding while pleading for mercy, it was better to proactively submit a quality script.

Given an opportunity to redeem himself, the company might just give him another chance.

Vice President’s Office.

Behind the desk, Cheng Jie lounged in his executive chair, legs crossed, scrolling through his phone.

He didn’t even glance up as Qian Lang entered.

“Vice President Cheng!” Qian Lang closed the door behind him and stood calmly before the desk.

Cheng Jie said nothing.

He deliberately left Qian Lang standing for a full five minutes.

Qian Lang frowned, but on second thought, he couldn’t blame him—after all, he was five minutes late himself.

“Vice President Cheng, I just finished a script. Would you like to take a look?”

Qian Lang decided to take the initiative.

A subordinate should always be self-aware.

If the boss wants to throw a tantrum, you can’t really argue, can you?

Heh, it’s not worth it!

Only then did Cheng Jie look up, arms crossed, casting a sidelong glance at Qian Lang. “How long have you been with the company?”

“Almost a year!” Qian Lang replied, feeling a flicker of apprehension.

That tone, that line of questioning—it didn’t bode well!

He surreptitiously turned on his phone’s camera.

If he really got fired illegally, at least he’d have a video as evidence!

As someone in a vulnerable position, a worker must always know how to protect their rights.

“How much value do you think you’ve created for the company?”

“I don’t know,” Qian Lang shook his head slightly.

He had just transmigrated, after all—he only knew he’d made three lousy films.

As for value created?

Probably negative!

But that didn’t matter. He had a new script in hand now.

If only Vice President Cheng would put aside his bias and make this into a film, everything would be made up for.

“President Cheng, please take a look at the script!” Qian Lang handed it over with both hands.

But Cheng Jie didn’t even glance at it. Instead, he pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his drawer, lighting up.

He blew a smoke ring.

“You have no sense of your own position,” Cheng Jie sneered, his eyes filled with disdain.

Qian Lang immediately lowered his gaze obediently. “You’re right, I’m not clear on it. Please, teach me, President Cheng!”

Sigh, it was always important to be sincere.

That was a fundamental quality Cheng Jie expected from a subordinate.

“You little—!”

Cheng Jie was thrown off by Qian Lang’s thick skin.

His face darkened, and he burst out angrily, “In just a year, you’ve made three box office flops! Do you know how much the company has lost? And you still have the nerve to talk about a script?”

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With that, he picked up the script on the desk and hurled it at Qian Lang.

“Get out! I don’t want to see you in this company again!”

Startled, Qian Lang quickly stepped back.

But after two steps, he stopped, looking at Cheng Jie with aggrieved, innocent eyes.

“President Cheng, so what if there were three flops? That was the old me. Now I’m bursting with inspiration! Just look at this script—if you shoot it, I guarantee it’ll make money!”

“Guarantee it’ll make money?”

Cheng Jie was so furious he laughed instead. “You love making movies so much? Well, Galaxy Films across the street will take any trash—they might give you a shot!”

“You want me to go to Galaxy Films?” Qian Lang was bewildered. “What about the company’s losses? I was hoping to make it up with this film! If I really leave, don’t regret it later!”

“Shut up!” Cheng Jie was nearly apoplectic. He picked up the phone. “HR? Qian Lang from the directing department has been fired. Handle the paperwork immediately! What? You say we owe him severance? He caused the company financial losses—just call it even!”

Whatever was said on the other end, Cheng Jie suddenly stood up, voice rising.

“No need to report to the big boss! Don’t tell me I, Cheng Jie, don’t even have this authority? Hurry up, stamp the documents and bring them over!”

He slammed the phone down hard.

Then, still seething, he looked at Qian Lang with a twisted smirk.

“Xingyao Films isn’t some heartless company. You caused the company huge losses, but we won’t make you pay for them. Of course, don’t expect any so-called compensation either. As your superior, this is the last bit of benefit I can get you!”

Qian Lang felt helpless.

What was this? Was it really so hard to make up for the company’s losses?

Still, he hadn’t expected Vice President Cheng to be so… generous.

Soon, an HR lady hurried in, holding a termination agreement.

Cheng Jie barely glanced at her and waved her over.

“Take your agreement and your lousy script, and get out of here!”

Qian Lang knew further words were pointless.

He took the agreement, picked up the script from the floor, and strode out of the office.

“Oh, he really got fired.”

Back at his workstation, his sharp-eyed female colleagues immediately spotted the agreement in his hand, their faces full of schadenfreude.

The flop was finally gone—no more enduring the annoying clatter of his keyboard in the office.

“Sigh, what a pity for this good script,” Qian Lang muttered, not caring about their attitudes.

He only felt a deep sense of regret.

Fired, his job gone—wouldn’t this script go to waste?

He sighed as he packed his things, unaware that the women beside him were rolling their eyes yet again.

Hopeless!

At a time like this, and he was still hung up on his lousy script!