Seven years after transmigrating, he was cornered at the head of the bed by a cold and aloof empress

Chapter 143 System Upgrade! [God-Level Director] Skill Activated

A pale blue light screen slowly unfolded before my eyes, like some kind of high-tech projection from the future, shattering the darkness in the study.

Lin Zhou's fingers, holding the cigarette, trembled slightly as his gaze remained fixed on the newly lit golden icon.

[A master director/screenwriter skill set].

These words seemed to possess some kind of magic, causing his long-dormant ambition to beat wildly once more.

He clicked on the details page, and lines of breathtaking explanatory text came into view.

"Master-level cinematic language: granting the user ultimate control over the visuals, making every frame a wallpaper."

"God-level lighting and shadow manipulation: You will be a magician who manipulates light and shadow, making light the language of narrative."

"The aura of an award-winning actor: even a piece of wood can be made to perform a scene of life and death in your hands."

Not to mention the most outrageous one—the [Earth Classic Script Library].

Lin Zhou took a deep breath, feeling as if a vast library had been crammed into his mind. The tragic beauty of "Farewell My Concubine," the redemption of "The Shawshank Redemption," the absurdity and deep affection of "A Chinese Odyssey"... countless classic scenes flashed through his mind like film reels.

"This isn't just a skill set, it's a one-way ticket to Hollywood!"

He stubbed out his cigarette, a playful smile curving his lips.

With this, the so-called "entertainment empire" no longer seems like an unattainable dream.

Just then, the study door was gently pushed open.

A familiar, faint fragrance drifted in on the breeze, dispelling the tobacco smell that filled the room.

Su Qingge dragged her tired body in. She hadn't even removed her makeup, and she looked like a withered rose, slumped unceremoniously on the single sofa in the study.

She was still clutching a thick stack of A4 paper in her hand, which she casually tossed onto the coffee table with a crisp "thud".

"You must be exhausted?"

Lin Zhou turned off the system panel, got up and walked behind her, skillfully placing his hands on her stiff shoulders and massaging them with moderate pressure.

"Don't even mention it, mental exhaustion is more torturous than physical exhaustion."

Su Qingge closed her eyes, enjoying Lin Zhou's service, but her brows remained tightly furrowed.

"My company has recently been helping me with a career transition, hoping I'll move into the big screen. After all, a singer's prime is limited, and I want to establish myself in the film and television industry as well."

"This is a good thing, why are you looking so gloomy?" Lin Zhou asked knowingly.

Su Qingge sighed, pointed to the pile of scripts on the coffee table, her tone full of disdain and helplessness.

"Take a look at those notebooks yourself."

"There were thirty scripts in total. I spent the whole afternoon picking them out, but I couldn't find a single one that was watchable."

"It wasn't one of those brainless, sweet romance stories about a domineering CEO falling in love with me, or one of those melodramatic family dramas with endless battles between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law. The most outrageous one was that they actually cast me as a strong young woman with a terminal illness who still insisted on participating in a talent show..."

At this point, Su Qingge couldn't help but open her eyes, her face full of absurdity.

"Please, I'm already 27, and you still want me to play an 18-year-old naive and innocent character? Is the screenwriter's brain filled with mush?"

"That's how the market is now. Capital thinks that the audience likes to watch these things, so it keeps feeding the audience industrial saccharin."

Lin Zhou gently comforted her while massaging her temples.

"That's because they don't understand the audience."

Su Qingge rubbed her temples, her voice tinged with resentment.

"I want to play characters with depth and soul, stories that people can remember for a lifetime, rather than fast food where you can tell the ending at a glance."

"If I can't find good scripts, I'd rather not film."

Seeing his wife's stubborn yet dejected expression, Lin Zhou's fingers paused slightly.

Is it insightful?

It has a soul?

To make someone remember you for a lifetime?

This is practically a free point question.

Any script he randomly picked from his newly unlocked script library could easily outshine all those flashy, cheap imitations on the market.

"Wife."

Lin Zhou continued what he was doing, but his tone became somewhat casual, as if he were talking about the moonlight tonight.

"If I told you I had a great story, would you like to give it a try?"

Su Qingge was stunned for a moment.

She turned her head, tilted her long neck back to look at Lin Zhou, and a hint of surprise flashed in her beautiful eyes, which then turned into a smile full of doting affection.

"you?"

She reached out and gently patted Lin Zhou's hand, her tone carrying a hint of coaxing a child.

"Honey, I know you want to help me out. But writing a script isn't like writing a song."

"Songwriting is all about inspiration and melody; a few minutes can make all the difference. But screenwriting is all about structure, logic, and character arcs; it's a massive undertaking."

"As the saying goes, every profession is like a mountain to climb. You can cook, write songs, and take care of kids—that's already quite versatile. If you could even write screenplays, what would happen to other screenwriters?"

Clearly, she didn't take Lin Zhou's words seriously at all.

In her opinion, Lin Zhou probably saw that she was too tired and wanted to make up a story to cheer her up.

After all, everyone has their own area of ​​expertise.

How could a musician who has never been involved in the film and television industry possibly write a professional script? Let alone a "good script" that would catch her eye.

Seeing her "I don't believe it" look, Lin Zhou didn't rush to argue.

He simply smiled, leaned down, and placed his hands on the sofa armrests, encircling Su Qingge in his shadow.

The distance between the two instantly closed, close enough that they could see each other's reflections in their eyes.

"Empress Su, don't speak too definitively."

"How about we make a bet?"

Su Qingge raised an eyebrow, her heart skipping a beat at his sudden aggression.

"What are we betting on?"

"I'll show you something tomorrow morning."

Lin Zhou extended a finger and gently scratched the tip of her pert nose, his eyes gleaming with a light that seemed to radiate confidence.

"If it doesn't look good, or doesn't meet your standards, I'll wash the dishes for a month, plus tell our Nuonuo bedtime stories for a month."

"But if..."

He deliberately dragged out the last syllable, and the smile on his lips became somewhat unfathomable.

"If you like it, you should even beg and plead to act in it."

"Then I must be both the director and the male lead in this film."

Su Qingge was amused by his confident look.

Although reason told her it was impossible, looking at the burning flame in Lin Zhou's eyes, she inexplicably felt a glimmer of hope.

Perhaps... this guy really can give her another surprise?

"Alright, Lin, you great talent."

Su Qingge hooked her arms around his neck and placed a fragrant kiss on the corner of his lips.

"Then I'll wait and see."

"But let me make this clear first, I'm very picky. If you try to fool me with some cheesy 'bodyguard falls in love with me' story, I'll make sure you sleep on the sofa for a month."

Lin Zhou straightened up, put his hands in his pockets, and turned to walk towards his desk.

His silhouette was elegant, and his steps were composed.

Only a light, fleeting sentence lingered in the air:

Don't worry.

"Remember to bring plenty of tissues tomorrow morning, I'm afraid you'll cry so much your makeup will be ruined."