After Defying the System, I Became a Genius Director

When Li Xingyu first received Shao Yichen’s call, his initial reaction was surprise.

Had the editing been completed so quickly?

During filming, he had heard Shao Yichen mention that she planned to edit the test footage herself. Typically, a feature-length theatrical film of ninety minutes would require nearly a month for editing. Considering that Shao Yichen herself was the director and likely had a clearer understanding of creative intent, and that there were fewer discarded shots, the editing time might be appropriately reduced.

But even so, Li Xingyu believed that film editing couldn’t possibly be completed in less than a week. Moreover, it sounded like Shao Yichen had simultaneously completed the color grading, which would presumably require even more time.

He never expected that after just three days, Shao Yichen would call to say the editing was already finished!

This speed truly exceeded his expectations.

What he didn’t know was that during these three days, two days were Shao Yichen’s slacking time, plus two hours were her struggle to turn over a new leaf, and only one afternoon plus one evening constituted the system’s actual editing time.

If Shao Yichen had abandoned her struggle the moment she received the filming materials and directly handed them to the system for editing, she could have broken the Guinness World Record for editing speed.

Fortunately, after detailed inquiry, Li Xingyu learned that although Shao Yichen claimed the editing was complete, the sound effects still hadn’t been processed, which slightly reduced his surprise. Though he didn’t know how much time sound effects would take, eliminating that task did reduce one aspect of the work. Completing the editing in three days was still astonishingly fast, but not as surprising as it had seemed at first.

He agreed to meet Shao Yichen, but considering his morning classes, indicated he might arrive a bit late. He also asked: “Shall we meet at the coffee shop outside the library again?”

On the other end of the line, Shao Yichen happened to yawn. Li Xingyu heard her saying, as if stretching: “No problem. Let’s meet in two hours, okay? That will be around lunchtime anyway, so we can grab a bite to eat.”

Hearing Shao Yichen’s somewhat tired voice, Li Xingyu felt a spontaneous admiration for her. Editing a film in three days, even without sound processing, must have meant staying up for three consecutive nights. Though the film’s quality remained uncertain, it already demonstrated her hard work and perseverance.

It seemed this director truly wanted to make this film well.

With this thought, Li Xingyu felt that since this Senior Sister was working so hard, he should also offer some genuine feedback.

At the very least, he would do so with a clear conscience.

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After hanging up, Shao Yichen yawned again.

Having stayed up for two nights playing games, her biological clock was now in disarray. Despite subsequently sleeping for nearly twelve hours, she was still extremely tired.

Of course, this fatigue had nothing to do with Li Xingyu’s assumption about “staying up all night editing.”

She slowly put on her jacket, took the computer containing the test footage that she had inherited from the original owner, and meandered toward the coffee shop beside the library.

Though the university coffee shop nominally sold coffee, it also offered regular lunches and beverages, such as pasta, rice dishes, and even ramen.

After all, the shop was located inside the university, and coffee sales alone wouldn’t be enough to sustain normal operations—people need to eat, after all.

Shao Yichen ordered two portions of pasta, sat in her seat swirling her cup of coffee, waiting for her Junior Brother to arrive. Before long, Li Xingyu walked in with quick steps.

“Sorry, I had a fourth period class today,” Li Xingyu said, pulling out a chair and sitting down opposite her.

Shao Yichen waved dismissively to show it didn’t matter.

In truth, if she had known more people, she wouldn’t have wanted to see this handsome face that had disrupted her money-losing plan so soon.

Unfortunately, having just reincarnated, she didn’t dare approach the original owner’s friends for fear of revealing her true identity. And if she took the test footage to her mentor, the only person she had met, she feared the kind-hearted mentor would not only point out flaws but also help her make improvements—which would create a genuine risk of profitability.

Her reason for seeking out Li Xingyu wasn’t really to get constructive feedback, but rather to gauge his reaction. If he thought there was nothing wrong with the film, then the problem would be truly serious for Shao Yichen, and she would probably have to sit at her computer for a month to personally edit the film into complete garbage.

But if even he thought there were problems, then things might not be so bad. After all, he was the film’s lead actor and would presumably want to save face for the production. If even he could identify problems, then there were definitely issues! The probability of losing money would increase dramatically!

With this thought, Shao Yichen felt that Li Xingyu’s face didn’t seem as irritating as before. She casually chatted with him about various topics—primarily meaningless subjects like “the weather is nice today” and “what do you like to eat.” The aloof Junior Brother would answer with “hmm” and “ah” whenever possible, only reluctantly offering sparing answers like “tomato and egg stir-fry” when he couldn’t avoid a direct response.

Fortunately, neither Shao Yichen nor Li Xingyu was aware of how awkward their conversation might appear to others. What would have made a third party curl their toes in embarrassment seemed quite harmonious to them, and the pasta disappeared at a rapid pace.

When Shao Yichen had eaten and drunk her fill, and estimated that Li Xingyu opposite her had also finished his lunch battle, she finally pulled out her laptop from her bag and placed it on the table: “This is the test footage I mentioned earlier.”

Li Xingyu nodded, glanced at the screen, and showed slight surprise: “Did you do this color grading yourself?”

Shao Yichen, with a guilty conscience, responded vaguely: “Um, yes. Is there a problem?”

Li Xingyu shook his head, indicating there was no problem. In fact, he was surprised by the professionalism of the color grading, and his admiration increased even further.

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An hour and a half later.

“How did you find it?” Shao Yichen asked eagerly.

“Hmm…” Li Xingyu pondered for a moment, then replied, “I’m not a professional film critic, so I can only give my impressions as a viewer.”

Here it comes! The classic disclaimer! Shao Yichen perked up, feeling hopeful.

Li Xingyu continued: “Overall, I didn’t notice any major problems. The editing strictly follows the original script. Since I’m the protagonist of the film, I don’t have much say regarding the plot, so I won’t comment on that.”

Shao Yichen nodded, feeling these remarks were within her expectations. Actors typically praise the director’s script, no matter how outrageous it might be, never daring to openly criticize it. The fact that Li Xingyu didn’t have a single good word for her script was itself an affirmation of its terrible quality! And judging by his tone, it was clear that more pointed comments were forthcoming…

Sure enough, Li Xingyu then said: “But I think there are some issues with the details. For example… the camera work is a bit shaky, and the transitions between shots aren’t very smooth.”

Shao Yichen nodded repeatedly in agreement. Clearly, no matter how powerful the system’s automatic optimization was, it was still just a system. With some shots that were as shaky as if filmed by someone with Parkinson’s, even the system couldn’t work miracles. Actually, being able to correct such footage to merely “a bit shaky” was already a major achievement for the system.

As for the transition issues between shots, that was due to the system’s limited intelligence, which Shao Yichen found quite satisfactory.

Meanwhile, Li Xingyu was observing Shao Yichen’s expression. Seeing that not only did she not appear angry after hearing his comments, but actually seemed secretly pleased, his admiration for her increased further. He continued: “Besides these issues, the unresolved sound effects are also a problem. I noticed our voices have been edited into the film, but honestly, the effect in some places isn’t ideal.”

Although Li Xingyu hadn’t explicitly pointed fingers, Shao Yichen blushed, remembering that her line delivery wasn’t particularly clear, realizing he was probably referring to her.

But since this was exactly the effect she wanted, she pretended not to understand despite her guilty conscience. Moreover, during the later stages of filming, she had already drastically reduced her own scenes because she found acting troublesome. As a director desperate to make this film lose money, she had already compromised considerably.

Li Xingyu hadn’t noticed Shao Yichen’s inner thoughts. After all, he was merely stating objective facts, and having witnessed Shao Yichen’s acting skills during filming, he wasn’t actually deliberately criticizing her voice work. He continued: “Under these circumstances, if sound effects aren’t given proper attention—for example, if background music is abruptly inserted—it could easily lead to narrative discontinuity, distracting viewers from the tight plot.”

“Although I understand this film likely faces budget constraints, my suggestion is—at least for sound effects, it should be handled by a professional team.”

After stating this conclusion, Li Xingyu looked at Shao Yichen.

He found that Shao Yichen seemed to have anticipated this suggestion, appearing confident and repeatedly nodding with a pleased expression. She seemed to realize Li Xingyu had finished offering his advice, and packed up her computer, saying to him: “I’ll try to fix some of the camera issues, and as for the sound effects—don’t worry, I do know some professionals in that field.”

Could it be that she was already aware of everything I mentioned? Did she meet with me just to confirm? Seeing Shao Yichen’s reaction, Li Xingyu’s expression remained unchanged, but internally he felt waves of uncertainty, finding the director’s actions increasingly inscrutable.

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Shao Yichen was completely unaware of whatever Li Xingyu had imagined. The reason for her pleased expression was simple: she hadn’t expected that even in the eyes of the lead actor involved in the performance, the film had so many flaws!

She had originally thought that losing money faced numerous difficulties, but now it didn’t seem so serious!

Shao Yichen was filled with renewed determination.

As for the sound effects issue, she hadn’t actually lied. Though if possible, she would have preferred to release the sample with just the original dialogue and no sound effects, such a film would obviously struggle to gain distributor approval.

But if her plan could be successfully implemented, she might be able to solve both the sound effects and distribution problems simultaneously!

—After being a slacker for so long, wasn’t it normal to know a few equally unscholarly rich second-generation kids who played in bands?

Author’s Note: Li Xingyu: She must know everything.

Shao Yichen: ? I don’t know anything

Li Xingyu: She must be exhausted from staying up editing.

Shao Yichen: Staying up playing games is so enjoyable (yawns)

This chapter is transitional; in the next chapter, the female protagonist will solve the remaining sound effects problem!