You’re good-looking, so everything you say sounds right.

“The program ‘Seeking Actors’ is currently facing three major problems. First, there is excessive repetition in the early stages.”

Chen Ruowen pulled up a montage of GIFs extracted from Zhang Jiang’s videos.

“We recruited a total of thirty roles. During the initial selection, each audition segment was repeated an average of thirteen times, making it extremely tedious to watch.”

Everyone present had witnessed this issue firsthand, and Chen Ruowen had pointed it out on the very first day of the selection rounds. The director’s team had responded by editing out the weaker performers. Unfortunately, judging by Chen Ruowen’s current expression, she was dissatisfied with the results.

“Second, the show lacks highlights, and the actors’ abilities are uneven. Take the ‘Apartment’ crew, for example—not a single lead candidate is worth watching. Frankly, we’d be better off not casting anyone at all.”

“Heh.” Gao Tang, who had been fiddling with his phone, suddenly laughed, drawing secret glares from the director’s team, already embarrassed by Chen Ruowen’s blunt criticism.

“And lastly,”

Chen Ruowen shifted her gaze from the PPT to the conference table and cast a look of disdain at Zhang Jiang, chief planner of ‘Seeking Actors.’

“The program’s name is positively hideous.”

“Ha!” Gao Tang couldn’t help but chuckle again, and before Director Huang or Zhang Jiang could glare at him, he spoke up.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I just find it strange—how could a big company like Twin Stars make so many mistakes in a variety show? Changing the name only near the end of filming, four major IPs to cast for and yet not a single suitable actor for one of them, and the direction of the show still undecided as the premiere approaches… This isn’t exactly the standard expected from Twin Stars, is it?”

Though Gao Tang’s tone was light, the implication behind his words was far from relaxed. The Chen family seemed unfazed, but as director and chief planner, Huang Yaming and Zhang Jiang felt their faces burn.

To be fair, Huang Yaming and Zhang Jiang were veterans of the industry, responsible for numerous large-scale programs, their reputation and abilities solid. Yet ‘Seeking Actors’ itself was riddled with bugs.

First, although Twin Stars produced variety shows, they had never ventured into talent competitions before, so they lacked experience.

Second, most talent shows in the country focused on singing and dancing—forms that deliver strong visual and auditory impact—while acting is slower-paced, with slower output and large investments. The audience can’t instantly judge acting skill as easily as they can with singing or dancing, and there’s no successful domestic precedent to follow.

Most importantly, according to confidential intelligence Twin Stars obtained, their biggest domestic rival, Eastern Entertainment, was planning a similar talent show. If Eastern snatched the slot first, they might seize the title of the country’s top variety show with this innovative format. If Twin Stars tried to launch a similar show later, it would seem derivative and uninspired.

Such a scenario was absolutely unacceptable to Chen Liwan. Thus, the ‘Seeking Actors’ team went from planning to launch in just a month and a half—far less than the usual preparation time for a variety show. Even when the open auditions began, many details were still unsettled; it was a race against time, with audition rounds in four cities while headquarters worked through the night to finalize plans.

With no precedent to follow, inadequate preparation, and a short publicity period, these flaws were inevitable.

Yet these reasons were commercial secrets; no matter how curious Gao Tang was, Chen Ruowen and the others could not explain them to him.

“The purpose of today’s meeting is to solve problems, not to hunt for causes,” Chen Ruowen sidestepped smoothly.

Gao Tang spun his phone between thumb and forefinger, leaning casually against his leather chair.

“But as an investor, don’t I have the right to know the truth? After all, Wanguo’s money doesn’t grow on trees.”

His request was reasonable, and his manner amicable. Sensitive as the topic was, his friendly tone kept it from becoming uncomfortable.

“Mm,” Chen Ruowen nodded, appearing to agree.

“You’re free to withdraw your investment.”

“…”

“…”

The sudden silence was almost unbearable…

Wasn’t that a bit too bold?!

Clearly, the fault lay with them, yet she openly told the investor to withdraw on the spot…

Such a move was unheard of.

Chen Liwan cleared his throat, ready to crack a joke and lighten the atmosphere, but Gao Tang unexpectedly smiled with complete ease, as if he hadn’t been put on the spot at all, and looked at Chen Ruowen with a sincere grin.

“What’s the saying? Hmm… You’re good-looking, so whatever you say is right.”

The man was a true talent—one sentence and the atmosphere lightened considerably. His gaze was earnest yet his demeanor relaxed, conveying sincerity without seeming frivolous.

“To address the problems, we first need to know just how severe they are.”

Gao Tang smiled at Chen Ruowen.

“The first episode must be edited by now, right? Could we play it here, so we can see for ourselves how much repetition there really is?”

Chen Ruowen didn’t hesitate. She deftly opened the video Zhang Jiang had sent her, and set it to play at 1.5x speed.

The newly edited version was much improved from the live viewing. The mundane performance clips had largely been cut, and minor roles were shown only through a few shots summarizing the results. Only the strong performances—such as Xu Xiangwei’s—were played in full.

Scattered throughout were the judges’ witty, incisive commentary. Truth be told, it was fairly standard, not as poor as Chen Ruowen had claimed.

The eighty-minute sample, trimmed and fast-forwarded, was finished in just over forty minutes.

This was Chen Liwan’s first viewing of the sample. As a leading figure in entertainment, he pinpointed the core issue.

“The sample is decent, but the biggest problem is the lack of highlights and memorable moments.”

He paused, using a popular phrase.

“There’s no meme.”

Gao Tang nodded in agreement. “Chairman Chen, you’re a real pro.”

Huang Yaming and Zhang Jiang rolled their eyes internally. After years of producing variety shows, they knew well that viral programs were all about the memes.

But this show had no manufactured stars, no classic moments, and no staged conflicts to spark discussion. Even if they wanted to create buzz, they had no way to do it!

“Since none of the guests are particularly controversial, and the winner hasn’t been decided in advance…”

Huang Yaming explained tactfully.

“To create buzz, you need a target.”

With no predetermined winner, the production team dared not assign memes to contestants. After all, memes go viral, and if the wrong contestant becomes popular—or if Chen Ruowen suspects the team is playing favorites—it could backfire badly.

By this point, everyone present understood. The room fell quiet for a moment, until Gao Tang, who had been watching Chen Ruowen intently, suddenly spoke.

“Chen… Ruowen, have you considered joining the show’s publicity campaign?”