The assistant director revealed, “Originally, Director Carter didn’t want the actors to disturb Editor Sullivan, because Editor Sullivan has always disliked interacting with actors. But in the end, Editor Sullivan specifically asked to see the male lead.”

“John Brooks was surprised, “He specifically asked to see me?”

“It’s absolutely true,” said the assistant director. “In ten minutes, you’ll go over.”

John Brooks quickly asked, “What does Teacher Sullivan look like? I’ve never met him.”

The assistant director replied, “Editor Sullivan is sitting right next to Director Carter, wearing black clothes. On Director Carter’s other side is Mr. Morgan from Haoyang Culture, the main figure among the co-producers. You can greet him as well.”

Jason Wright hurriedly agreed, and after the assistant director left, he grabbed John Brooks’s hands. “Did you hear that? Teacher Sullivan specifically asked to see you.”

John Brooks had been getting impatient waiting, but now he was suddenly energized. “You were right—Teacher Sullivan really does want to meet me!”

Jason Wright said, “Quick, get ready. In ten minutes, you’ll meet the mentor of your acting career.”

John Brooks was flustered. “How do I prepare? What should I say when I see him?”

Jason Wright pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “Don’t panic, bro already wrote a script for you.”

John Brooks was never good at flattery, so having a draft to recite was perfect.

Jason Wright said, “Ethan Sullivan only associates with big shots—he’s used to people who are calm and at ease. You need to show your ‘invisible’ qualities: be sincere, awkward, even so nervous you stutter. Make Ethan Sullivan feel you’re rare, let him sense how excited you are to meet him, understand?”

“Got it.” John Brooks quickly memorized the lines. There were only a few, so as not to annoy Ethan Sullivan by saying too much.

Jason Wright reminded him, “Since Editor Sullivan asked to see you, he’ll probably chat with you and ask some questions.”

“Huh?” John Brooks had always been afraid of teachers’ questions since he was a kid. “It won’t be too hard, right?”

Jason Wright said, “Just remember one thing: for any question you’re not sure about, it’s better to say you don’t know than to make something up. Sincerity is most important—never try to show off in front of Editor Sullivan.”

Ten minutes passed quickly. John Brooks left the banquet hall with a wine glass in hand, accompanied by Jason Wright. They walked from one end of the corridor to the private room, and through the door, they could hear faint sounds inside.

John Brooks said, “Time to go in and play the humble junior.”

“Go on, smile cutely.” Jason Wright pressed his palms together. “I’m praying for you—Amitabha.”

John Brooks went in, and as he reached the door to the private room, Jason Wright caught up.

Afraid he’d forget, Jason Wright waited until the last moment to remind him, “After you finish your lines, add an exaggerated, emotional, and unique sentence at the end, so Teacher Sullivan will remember you from the very first meeting. Only if he remembers you will he have a chance to think of you in the future.”

John Brooks memorized everything and said to the waiter, “Open the door, please.”

The double doors swung open, revealing a mini foyer in old New York style. A curved console table served as a divider, with a vase full of peonies on top. Through the lush flowers, John Brooks saw a whole wall in the inner room painted peacock-feather green.

He approached the banquet table beneath the wall. The oversized round table was covered with extravagantly plated dishes, bottles of champagne and Wuliangye scattered everywhere, and a circle of velvet chairs, all occupied—most of the guests already tipsy.

John Brooks didn’t have time to look at everyone. As soon as he focused, the first person he saw was Ethan Sullivan.

He’d been a little nervous, but now he was completely stunned.

What’s going on?! Why is this guy sitting in the private room?!

In front of Ethan Sullivan was a steaming bowl of noodles. He wasn’t eating the shrimp or crab on the table, but had drunk quite a bit and specifically asked for noodles to settle his stomach. Hearing footsteps, he looked up and met John Brooks’s gaze across the diameter of the round table.

John Brooks stared wide-eyed, silently asking with his eyes: Why are you here?!

Ethan Sullivan raised his eyebrows and gave a slight shrug.

Before they could finish their silent exchange, William Carter waved, “Little John is here.”

John Brooks snapped back to reality, shifting his gaze from Ethan Sullivan to William Carter. He was shocked again—this guy was actually sitting next to the director!

What kind of status is that?! Sitting next to the director?!

John Brooks’s mind raced. This guy had the production manager pick him up at the airport, rode in the director’s private car, skipped the script reading, and now was sitting in the private room at the launch banquet…

Thinking of what the assistant director said, the one sitting next to Director Carter was…

John Brooks finally understood—this guy was actually the head of Haoyang Culture, Mr. Morgan.

He looked at Ethan Sullivan again, his expression a bit stiff, suspecting he’d unknowingly offended the main co-producer.

William Carter saw John Brooks’s awkward look and guessed he was embarrassed about the car mix-up. He said, “Little John, don’t just stand there—toast Teacher Sullivan first.”

John Brooks snapped to attention. Right, he was here to see Ethan Sullivan.

Ethan Sullivan was the biggest investor. As long as Ethan Sullivan appreciated him, no one else mattered.

Next to the director was Mr. Morgan, and on the other side was Ethan Sullivan. As John Brooks thought this, his gaze drifted to the other side of William Carter. That man was in a suit and gold-rimmed glasses, slightly chubby, looking every bit the cultured head writer.

But was the assistant director colorblind? Teacher Sullivan was clearly wearing gray.