Chapter 80: Special Effects Studio Reorganization

On this day, Lu Yu was frowning in concentration over a synthesis algorithm when Liu Shichang came to find him in the office.

Liu Shichang handed Lu Yu a folder. “President Lu, the acquisition of the two special effects companies is complete. All the procedures have been finalized, though we haven’t merged or restructured them yet.”

Lu Yu took the folder and looked it over. The two small effects companies had been merged into one, with the full name “Illusion Creation Digital Effects Limited Liability Company.” There weren’t many other staff—mainly just the two effects teams, totaling over eighty effects artists.

Lu Yu glanced through the documents without finding anything particularly noteworthy, then said to Liu Shichang, “Have each of the two teams select fifteen outstanding effects artists to come to Shudu for a temporary assignment. Make arrangements for their accommodation—find a decent business hotel.”

“As for the remaining effects staff, let them continue working at the original office as usual, but make sure their communication devices are always on. We may need to reach out to them for practical effects production issues.”

“Also, someone from Illusion Creation Digital will probably approach you about investing in the company. Just follow the standard pricing and procedures. Once that’s done, we’ll proceed with the full merger and restructuring.”

After taking note, Liu Shichang asked, “Is there any specific requirement for the equity split?”

Lu Yu shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Negotiate for more if you can, but it’s not crucial.”

“Our future focus isn’t on this company. I acquired it mainly because Yuhan Technology needs to understand the practical aspects of effects production. It’s not about breaking into the entertainment industry.”

Liu Shichang asked, “So who’s the investor?”

Lu Yu replied, “A friend of mine. He says he’s done with his youthful days and wants something to do. I happened to have this effects company on hand, so I offered it to him.”

Liu Shichang understood Lu Yu’s thinking—he wasn’t invested in the company’s fate. Profit would be welcome, but loss was not a concern.

With that clarified, Liu Shichang left to return to Nebula Beyond the River.

After Liu Shichang left, Lu Yu thought for a moment and called Chen Xiaofei, asking when he would come to discuss investing.

At that moment, Chen Xiaofei was accompanying his parents on a tour of his investment in a plantation near Lu Yu’s hometown, enjoying a bit of the limelight.

After all, since graduation, Chen Xiaofei had spent his days idly, unwilling to find a job. His parents didn’t want him simply collecting rent or selling cars at a dealership, and were always looking for something for him to do.

A few months ago, Chen Xiaofei finally declared his intention to invest in a business, specifically in a field he knew little about—traditional medicinal herb cultivation.

His parents were supportive, at least seeing it as a legitimate pursuit and a chance to gain experience.

Who could have guessed that, thanks to the influence of Fen Bai Dai Hei, the plantation’s prospects would turn out unexpectedly bright? Though not a goldmine, the business was stable and profitable.

Seeing the results, even his parents were considering further investment to expand the plantation.

When Lu Yu asked about the effects company, Chen Xiaofei said that was something he was truly interested in, promising to come discuss it in the next couple of days.

The plantation was stable and profitable, but too dull, and didn’t require his constant attention.

It was the effects company and film business that really inspired his ambition.

Two days later, Chen Xiaofei arrived at the company with two legal counsels from different firms.

Lu Yu received his call, went downstairs to meet them, and brought them over to Nebula Beyond the River to find Liu Shichang, leaving them to negotiate on their own.

After a brief introduction, Lu Yu excused himself and went to the beverage area for a glass of juice.

He couldn’t help but note how well the beverage area at Nebula Beyond the River was managed, with two dedicated staff on duty.

Not only did Nebula Beyond the River enjoy their drinks, but even the people upstairs at Yuhan Technology preferred their concoctions.

Those techie programmers, with their homebody tendencies, had even written a little app in their spare time, allowing them to place orders from upstairs and have drinks delivered.

Lu Yu took his juice to the lounge area, and had just sat down when he saw Chen Xiaofei approaching.

He couldn’t help but feel curious. “That was quick?”

Chen Xiaofei scoffed, “Did it need to take long?”

Lu Yu asked, “You’re not even going to discuss the equity and money?”

Chen Xiaofei replied, “You just acquired the company—the price is crystal clear. I want thirty percent of the shares. Just transfer the money according to that. What else is there to discuss?”

Lu Yu was speechless. If only all business were this easy, the world would be filled with peace and love.

He didn’t bother to argue and changed the subject. “Weren’t you planning to start a film company? How’s that going?”

Chen Xiaofei sighed. “I had no idea before, but after looking into it, I found out how troublesome it is to set up a film company!”

Lu Yu was puzzled. “What’s so troublesome about it?”

Chen Xiaofei explained, “Setting up the company is one thing, but you also need to get production qualifications. You have to make two films first before you can apply for a Class A license.”

“If you want to sign artists, you need at least three talent agency licenses. And if you want to get into distribution, you have to co-distribute at least two films with other companies, then present the contracts and bank remittance certificates to apply for a distribution license.”

Lu Yu listened and said, “Weren’t you just planning to invest? Why are you talking about signing artists now? Looking for excitement?”

Chen Xiaofei replied, exasperated, “If I’m going to do it, I want to do it right. You can’t succeed by just being passive or half-hearted.”

Lu Yu clicked his tongue. “That doesn’t sound like something you’d say.”

Chen Xiaofei shrugged. “Doesn’t matter who says it. The principle stands. I’m thinking of following your example and acquiring a small company first.”

Lu Yu said, “I don’t know the film industry, so I can’t give you advice.”

Chen Xiaofei replied, “I wasn’t expecting your advice. Just get that effects software and the compression renderer you mentioned ready as soon as you can—that would be a huge help.”

Lu Yu said, “That’s not something I can rush. Coding can’t be hurried.”

By then, the lawyers had nearly finished reviewing the contract, so Chen Xiaofei stood up. “Alright, I’ll go talk to the friend I mentioned and get a feel for things, then try acquiring a small company to test the waters.”

Lu Yu got up to see him off.

After Chen Xiaofei left, Liu Shichang came to report that the selected staff from the effects company would be arriving the next day and their accommodation had been arranged.

Lu Yu nodded and instructed him to have them report to Yuhan Technology the day after tomorrow.

He also said that Illusion Creation Digital could begin its restructuring—adjusting staff and merging departments as needed. They would need to prepare a procurement plan for the hardware required for effects production.

The original company’s hardware was limited and needed to be upgraded.

This would likely be the last capital injection—he didn’t expect to invest further.

After wrapping up with Liu Shichang, Lu Yu made his way upstairs alone.

Gazing at the stainless steel handrail in the stairwell, he couldn’t help but think of basic and new materials research, and sighed.

Ah—still too poor.

He wasn’t just researching a single material, but many. Each required its own set of experimental equipment, representing a huge investment, not to mention the sheer number of materials involved.

Even though Fen Bai Dai Hei Company’s revenue was substantial, most funds were reinvested—plantation construction was by far the biggest expense.

Now he could only hope Deng Qiang would manage to break into overseas markets soon and bring in more profits, enabling him to set up a materials research institute next year.

As for a smooth overseas expansion, Lu Yu dared not hope too much.

He was aware of the situation abroad—his company’s products had almost no recognition.

Some major corporations had, in surprising unison, paid to suppress their online presence.

It was understandable—after all, they were out to snatch a share of someone else’s pie. Naturally, competitors would want to protect their turf.

He feared there would soon be some obscure research institutions coming forward to claim his products were unsafe, and making a fuss about it.

Though he couldn’t establish a research institute just yet, Lu Yu felt he should pick up the pace.

He had only scratched the surface of materials science knowledge on this world.

And there were so many other disciplines, too.

As he’d reflected before, even if he started developing artificial intelligence right now, it wasn’t just a matter of writing code.

It involved mathematical logic, biology, psychology, bionics, information theory, cybernetics, automation, linguistics, medicine, philosophy, and more.

The actual applications for artificial intelligence reached far beyond the well-known fingerprint or face recognition, expanding into machine vision, iris recognition, automatic program design, intelligent control, robotics, language and image understanding, genetic programming, and more.

Lu Yu didn’t want his AI to turn out dull-witted, nor did he want to develop narrow, one-dimensional applications.

To achieve that, he needed broad expertise across numerous disciplines and projects.

And how much did he truly know at present?

A mere tip of the iceberg, a drop in the ocean—his knowledge base was woefully inadequate.

With these thoughts, Lu Yu felt an urgent desire to return to his studies at the library.

Back in his office, he reviewed the progress of the effects software’s development, wondering if he could somehow speed things up.

But in the end, there was no escaping the realization that a meal must be eaten one bite at a time.

Haste makes waste; nothing could be accomplished overnight.

With so many lines of code, there was no way forward but to lay them down one by one.

Reflecting, Lu Yu realized he was being impatient, and reminded himself to maintain a calm mind.

He stepped to the window, lit a cigarette, and forced himself to settle down.

He didn’t know what had come over him.

Perhaps it was the thought of the vast sea of knowledge ahead, or his frustration at the slow pace of his technological ascent.

For all these reasons, he felt both a strong sense of urgency and a wave of despondency.

Life is finite, but knowledge is infinite.

To use the finite to pursue the infinite—what an overwhelming sense of frustration, mingled with unwillingness to accept defeat.

The wind from the tall building blew through the open window, tousling Lu Yu’s hair.

After three cigarettes, he finally managed to compose himself.

He pulled the handle on the glass window, closed it, and returned to his desk.

Clearing his mind, he reviewed his programming logic and began typing steadily at the keyboard.

He didn’t leave the office until deep into the night.

Looking up at the sky, Lu Yu had assumed everyone had already left, but to his surprise, Ge Yuncong and seven or eight programmers were still there.

Lu Yu walked over to ask what they were doing and learned they’d been tackling a programming issue from that afternoon.

He found it amusing—these straight-laced men were almost endearingly earnest.

Yuhan Technology had never enforced overtime, nor did it pay overtime wages.

In other words, they were all there voluntarily, motivated solely by the desire to solve a problem, not by thoughts of overtime pay.

Lu Yu asked about the issue, considered it, and began explaining.

Half an hour later, the programmers’ eyes lit up as the problem became clear, and laughter broke out among them.

That joy of overcoming a thorny issue lifted Lu Yu’s own spirits as well.

He urged them to pack up their laptops, and they all headed to a nearby barbecue restaurant for a late-night meal.

Eating grilled meat, drinking chilled beer, and enjoying the cool night breeze of Shudu, a dozen people chatted about everything under the sun.

Here and there, a few risqué jokes slipped in, sending everyone into fits of laughter.

Lu Yu, too, unleashed the same irreverent banter he reserved for Chen Xiaofei, occasionally cracking wise and drawing chuckles.

It’s often said that friendships between men are forged at the dinner table.

Whatever the truth of that saying, at least at the banquet table, the distance between people truly shrinks.

That late-night meal lasted long into the night.

Lu Yu saw everyone off before hailing a designated driver to take him home.