Mysterious Assistant of the Washed-Up Queen

Under Wei Chuan's expectant gaze, Chu Tian picked up the draft sketches Wei Chuan had brought and began to look through them one by one.

Though they were called drafts, every stroke showed meticulous effort. Wei Chuan had even annotated many places with sources and his own questions.

[This is the tomb passage; it should have decorative patterns. According to historical records, it's a Southern Song Dynasty Tomb, so lotus flowers should be used as adornment...]

[Thirteen Li Shop: desolate grave scene...]

[Kunlun Divine Palace concept... Its Nine-Layered Demon Tower should... perhaps...]

The pages of sketches were densely covered with text.

Through these sketches, Chu Tian could almost picture someone holed up in their room, poring over a book again and again, simultaneously researching various information online, and then meticulously drawing the scenes described. This alone was enough to show Wei Chuan's dedication.

"What do you think, Chu? Are there many parts that don't quite align?" Wei Chuan asked.

"Actually, I've noticed that too," Wei Chuan continued. "After all, I'm not a history scholar, and there's a lot of information I can't find. I can't even tell what's true or false in the things written in the book. I really don't know how the author could know so much; he writes as if it's all real."

Initially, Chu Tian was touched by Wei Chuan's words, but then he began to feel rather embarrassed. After all, the original author was in another world; he was merely a conduit. But in this world, he was the publicly recognized author. It was embarrassing to receive such praise for something he hadn't truly created.

But as Wei Chuan kept talking, Chu Tian suddenly broke out in a cold sweat.

"Uncle Wei! Please, don't say that! Some things are better left unsaid!"

Just thinking about the scenes of fans from the other world crying and shouting to send 'Uncle' to prison—though it didn't have much to do with Brother Ba—who wouldn't be scared by something like that? In this world, there was no 'Uncle' to take the fall for him. What if someone took this seriously and actually sent him to prison?

"Ah? What's wrong? Did I say something incorrect?" Wei Chuan asked, puzzled.

"No, it's nothing," Chu Tian said, quickly changing the subject. "Uh, how about we talk about the movie? I've looked through all the sketches, and they're really good."

Chu Tian didn't dare continue on that topic. He feared that if Wei Chuan took the continued conversation seriously, he himself might inadvertently end up in prison.

"You agree?" Wei Chuan's eyes widened, and he grew animated. "You think my sketches are suitable?"

"Yes," Chu Tian affirmed. "Although there are some differences from the original work, it's not a big problem. The key is I can see your dedication, Uncle Wei. Besides, many scenes aren't specifically described in the novel, so there's plenty of room for imagination."

"After all, we're making a movie, not a documentary. Appropriate artistic license can enhance the visual impact, don't you think?"

That's true, actually. Novels may describe vast ancient tombs filled with intricate mechanisms, but real ancient tombs were rarely that large. If they were truly as depicted in movies, imagine how many laborers would have died from exhaustion building them!

In movies, tomb doors are often several meters high and wide, as if built for giants. Tomb passages are shown wider than office corridors, with layers upon layers of mechanisms that would make even modern architecture graduates break out in a cold sweat. That's obviously not realistic.

Real ancient tomb passages were often so narrow they were more like dog kennels, or at best, modern sewer tunnels. They were cramped and narrow. While such tombs would look authentic on film, they wouldn't be very appealing.

Movies are primarily a visual medium, which is why special effects blockbusters are so popular. Without artistic embellishments to create that visual shock, a film would undoubtedly lose much of its appeal.

Chu Tian raised this point because he was concerned that Wei Chuan, lacking experience with commercial special effects blockbusters, might be too constrained by realism. He worried that if Wei Chuan brought in a team of experts, they might turn the film into something resembling an archaeological restoration, which would be a disaster.

The key is how a director balances this. Antiquities used as burial goods, the layout of tomb chambers, decorative patterns in passages, and murals should adhere to historical accuracy. However, the scale and internal grandeur can be artistically enhanced.

In reality, Chu Tian's concerns were unnecessary.

"Of course, of course, I'm not foolish," Wei Chuan declared. "We're making a movie, after all. If the budget allows, I'm even thinking of making the tomb chamber as vast as the Forbidden City! That would be truly stunning, and the box office would definitely explode!"

"COUGH, COUGH. That's not necessary..." Chu Tian managed, shooting Wei Chuan an embarrassed glance, nearly choking on his words.

As big as the Forbidden City? What's he thinking? Why not just build a replica of Mount Everest while he's at it? Such audacity! He'd initially worried Wei Chuan might be too constrained, but now Chu Tian thought perhaps some limitations were in order. Everyone loves a grand spectacle, but his wallet couldn't support it.

To prevent Wei Chuan's imagination from running wild, Chu Tian quickly pulled him back to discuss the practicalities of the movie.

Once they reached a consensus, the rest of the discussion flowed smoothly. It was mainly about defining roles and sharing their respective ideas for the project.

Ultimately, Chu Tian proposed a budget of around 200 to 300 million, covering principal photography and post-production. Marketing could be included or budgeted separately later.

Currently, Unlimited Entertainment was the sole investor, though others could potentially join later. However, to maintain creative and operational control, Unlimited Entertainment would need to provide at least half of the total investment.

It wasn't that Chu Tian was greedy or reluctant to share profits. This was simply the company's flagship project, and there was absolutely no room for error. Having the final say would prevent many potential problems. At the very least, it would give them an advantage in casting, staffing, and financial oversight.