Prodigy’s Playground

Chapter 102 The Coin

“This… this is way too outrageous…”

In the café.

Jiang Ran stared at the string of numbers on Xu Yan’s phone, unable to believe it.

He counted again.

Eight digits.

12,000,000 yuan.

The world had gone mad.

Someone was actually willing to spend that much money to buy his little script—something he’d written based on a spark of inspiration from middle school?

Xu Yan told him…

That morning, before the award list had even been announced, the organizing committee had called her.Originally, the Grand Prize had been awarded to their film Prodigy’s Playground.

But because a production company wanted to purchase the script rights, they hoped the award could be withdrawn and all materials of the short film destroyed—to preserve the mystery when the future movie was released.

Of course, the other party promised compensation.

And they said the price would be satisfactory.

“To be honest, I rejected it at first.”

Xu Yan took a sip of her cappuccino.

“Our Donghai University Film Club worked so hard on that film. Wasn’t the whole point to win an award?”

“It wasn’t just my dream—it was the dream of everyone in the club. So I refused right away. I thanked them for the offer but said we wanted the Grand Prize more.”

“Then… guess what happened?”

“What?” Jiang Ran asked.

Why did she have to tell it like a storyteller?

“Just a few minutes later, the boss of the production company called me personally!”

Xu Yan continued.

“He was very sincere. Said he loved the script and told me the name of the director—it’s really one of the top directors in the country. He even said if we weren’t satisfied, we could change directors. Even Hollywood ones.”

“…Seriously?”

The more Jiang Ran listened, the more absurd it sounded.

He even began wondering whether Xu Yan was messing with him.

This kind of plot sounded like something from a wish-fulfillment novel.

Would any serious story dare write something like this?

“And that wasn’t even the end!”

Xu Yan smiled.

“I was already shocked by their attitude. Then they quoted the price directly—12 million to buy out the full rights, with everyone involved signing confidentiality agreements and destroying all related materials.”

“Scripts, storyboards, dialogue drafts, the sample video—everything had to be deleted completely, without leaving a trace. Honestly, that price scared me. If the film festival committee hadn’t confirmed it personally, I would’ve thought it was a scam call.”

“But the funny thing is, they must’ve thought I was hesitating. So they added that the 12 million was after tax—they’d cover all taxes. And if we still weren’t satisfied, the price could be negotiated.”

Jiang Ran listened quietly, pursing his lips.

To be honest, it already felt like he was listening to a fantasy story.

If he hadn’t personally seen the 12 million yuan balance in Xu Yan’s banking app, he might have stood up and left already.

Xu Yan might be able to lie.

But a bank account containing twelve million yuan couldn’t lie.

According to her—

That big director and the production company were so desperate to obtain the script that they might as well have been begging on their knees.

It sounded ridiculous.

Completely ridiculous.

Jiang Ran admitted the script was good.

But there was no way it was that good.

“I told them I had to discuss it with the club members first,” Xu Yan said, lightly punching Jiang Ran’s arm to bring his attention back.

“This isn’t just my work.”

“Then they immediately said they could provide job offers from major companies for all the club members. Anyone interested in entering the film industry could get one.”

“And if someone wanted another industry, they’d help arrange it. They said it could all be written into the contract—even freshmen in the club would be guaranteed offers when they graduated.”

“They even said if anyone wanted to start a business, their parent company had angel investment funds and would support them.”

“Mhm.”

Jiang Ran stirred his coffee lazily with a spoon while nodding mechanically.

When Xu Yan finally finished—

He shook his head.

“Then why not just give the whole company to you while they’re at it?”

“Are you sure this isn’t a scam?”

“Even if the money in your account is real, what if it’s money laundering or illegal overseas funds?”

Honestly.

At first Jiang Ran had believed the story.

But now—

The more he heard, the more suspicious it sounded.

What kind of production company would go this far for a single script?

Even if the movie eventually became a huge hit, how much could it earn in this struggling film market?

After box office distribution, could the company even recover what they were offering Xu Yan?

And if every club member went out to start a business, would the parent company really invest angel funding in all of them?

Xu Yan waved her hand.

“Jiang Ran, do you think I’m stupid? What do you think I was doing all morning?”

“I met their company boss. And the director too. They really do take this extremely seriously—they even flew from Donghai to Hang City to see me.”

“After that we went to the national notary office to finalize everything. It’s all real. I know it sounds unbelievable, but it’s the truth.”

Xu Yan explained that after she shared the information with the film club members, everyone agreed immediately.

Compared to a university film festival award—

A guaranteed job offer or angel investment was tangible, practical value.

As for the award…

Although it was a little regrettable, knowing that their film had originally won the Grand Prize was enough to fulfill their dream.

More importantly, the production company promised that after the film was released, they would publicly acknowledge the original team and restore the honor that the Donghai University Film Club deserved.

While she was talking—

Xu Yan noticed Jiang Ran zoning out again.

She tapped him with her spoon.

“Hey! Are you even listening?”

“What’s there to listen to?”

Jiang Ran laughed helplessly.

“They’re offering everything imaginable. Money, jobs, investment, even the award later. They’re practically kneeling in front of us.”

“A deal like that? Only an idiot would refuse.”

“So there’s nothing more to discuss. I don’t know why they want the script so badly, but if they want it, let them have it.”

Hearing Jiang Ran agree, Xu Yan finally let out a long breath.

“Phew…”

She smiled at him.

“I’m really glad you agreed.”

“The 12 million in my account was an advance payment they transferred directly to me. I haven’t officially accepted yet. I wanted to hear your opinion first.”

“If you didn’t agree, I’d return the money. The club members wouldn’t object either.”

“After all, we all know very clearly that without you—without your script—none of this would exist. So the final decision was always yours.”

Jiang Ran waved dismissively.

“Only an idiot wouldn’t take the deal… though I still think they’re the idiots.”

He chuckled awkwardly.

“Honestly, I have no idea what they see in that script. They’re obsessed.”

If someone insisted on giving him money, why refuse?

Besides—

Jiang Ran could tell that what Xu Yan and the club members really wanted were the job offers and investment opportunities.

That was completely understandable.

If Jiang Ran were in their position, he would have made the same choice.

Compared to one’s future—and real money—

A university film festival award meant nothing.

The only thing Jiang Ran still couldn’t understand was—

Did the production company and director really need to go this far?

Something about it felt wrong.

But he couldn’t figure it out.

Later, Xu Yan brought Jiang Ran to the bank to transfer the entire 12 million yuan to him.

Jiang Ran refused.

He insisted the money should be shared with the film club.

But Xu Yan said the club had already decided—the entire amount belonged to Jiang Ran.

Not only that, next semester the entire club planned to treat him to dinner to thank him.

He refused again.

And again.

But every refusal was pushed back.

In the end—

Jiang Ran reluctantly accepted.

With a soft ding, a text message arrived.

His previously fragile bank account had suddenly become very powerful.

Deposit received: 12,000,000 yuan.

“It feels like a dream.”

Walking out of the bank, Jiang Ran joked to Xu Yan.

“What if I wake up tomorrow and everything today turns out to be a dream?”

It was a line from a movie.

Xu Yan immediately understood the reference.

She turned slightly, waved at him, and smiled.

“Then I’ll wish you in advance…”

“Good morning.”

“Good afternoon.”

“And good night.”

After they parted ways—

Jiang Ran went straight home.

He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling in silence.

He needed time to process everything.

He had already signed the confidentiality agreement in the café.

It contained nothing unusual.

Simply a promise to destroy all materials, never reveal the plot, and never disclose anything related to Prodigy’s Playground.

That wasn’t difficult.

After all, he didn’t really have any materials anyway.

“Oh… wait.”

He suddenly remembered.

The sample video Xu Yan had once sent him was still sitting in his QQ email inbox.

Since he had accepted the production company’s money—and signed the confidentiality agreement—and since it involved the futures of so many film club members…

“I should delete it as soon as possible.”

He sat up and turned on his computer.

Now this wasn’t just his personal matter.

The film club was probably already busy destroying all their materials.

He absolutely couldn’t be the one who made a mistake.

Logging into his QQ mailbox—

The first thing he saw was Xu Yan’s email.

Still unread.

He moved the mouse toward the delete button.

Then stopped.

He was suddenly curious.

What kind of charm could that script possibly have—

That made a production company and a famous director act as if they were possessed?

“Is it possible…”

Jiang Ran rubbed his chin.

“…that my script was average, but the film club shot it really well?”

Yes.

That seemed possible.

“Let’s just watch it once.”

He clicked the email and began downloading the MP4 sample.

He really was curious how the club had turned Prodigy’s Playground into a short film.

Just watch it once.

Then delete everything afterward—the file and the email.

That would settle the matter.

The download finished quickly.

Jiang Ran double-clicked the video file and began watching.

Originally, the microfilm had been acted by Jiang Ran and Qin Feng.

Now the roles had been replaced by two younger club members.

The younger students were handsome and talented.

Honestly, some scenes were even performed better than Jiang Ran and Qin Feng had done.

After all, they were professionals.

But—

As Jiang Ran watched scene after scene unfold, familiar images filled his mind.

Except in his memories, it was always Qin Feng acting opposite him.

“Hurry…”

On the phone screen, the younger student playing Qin Feng’s role clutched his chest, blood spilling out as he stared into the camera with a twisted expression.

“As long as you return to the past and change everything… everything can begin again… hurry!”

That had been Qin Feng’s role.

Another younger student grabbed the diary and rushed to the rooftop, flipping through it rapidly.

That had been Jiang Ran’s role.

Click.

A pistol pressed against the back of someone’s head.

Two former best friends—once inseparable—now stood opposed because of different beliefs.

“Lilith is the god of this world. Omnipotent.”

“Omnipotence does not make one a god.”

“Let’s call it the fireworks that signal the end of the game. Let me show you.”

On the computer screen—

The student playing Qin Feng’s role raised his phone to his ear.

“[Lilith.]”

“[Darken the sky.]”

Inside a luxurious conference room, the lights were turned off.

Only the projector screen provided illumination.

As the line was spoken, the screen turned to night.

The room fell into darkness.

At the same time—

Inside that very conference room, the same short film was being played.

An elderly man wearing a traditional Chinese jacket sat behind a long redwood table.

While watching the screen, he casually played with a coin on the table.

The coin was far larger than ordinary currency—four or five centimeters in diameter.

In his hand it looked more like a badge.

He pressed his thumb against the coin, set it upright on the tabletop, then flicked it with his thumb.

Clack, clack, clack…

The coin spun rapidly, sliding slightly across the table.

“So this is your secret.”

“But I still have to say—you set off your fireworks too early.”

“Your trump card has already been exposed. Stop bluffing. Will you leave with dignity yourself, or shall I send you on your way?”

On the screen, the rooftop confrontation continued.

On the table, the spinning coin gradually lost momentum.

Slower.

Slower.

Finally—

It fell flat.

Heads.

The front side showed the carved image of a king.

A long-bearded king wearing a crown, holding a scepter, gazing arrogantly above all others.

Below the portrait were four English letters.

KING.

“Writing a diary is truly a good habit, Qin Feng. Few people these days can keep writing one every day like you.”

On the screen, the arrogant protagonist turned slowly and sneered.

“Have you ever considered…”

“…that we might be inside your diary right now?”

The middle-aged man sitting beside the elderly one watched the screen intently.

The old man flicked the coin again.

Clack clack clack…

The coin spun.

Then fell.

Heads again.

The king’s hollow eyes reflected the projection light.

“You will never defeat me in history!”

“Because in this game of the river of time…”

On the screen, the protagonist leaped from the rooftop edge.

“I am history!”

Black screen.

The conference room plunged into total darkness.

Only the breathing of the two men could be heard.

Moments later—

The screen lit again.

Credits began to scroll upward.

At the center of the screen, the most prominent credit appeared in large letters:

Original Story · Script · Screenplay

— Jiang Ran

Click.

The elderly man pressed the remote.

The film froze on that frame.

He picked up the coin again and rubbed it between his fingers.

“What do you think?”

The middle-aged man was silent for a moment.

“Where did this film come from?”

“The Grand Prize entry of the Donghai City University Student Film Festival.”

The old man spoke slowly.

“A friend from our Mutual Aid Association was invited as a judge. Fortunately, he discovered this work just before the final announcement and stopped it immediately.”

“So at the moment, the film hasn’t spread widely. That’s reassuring.”

“But… wherever people exist, secrets rarely remain secrets forever.”

“It’s only a matter of time before the script or its contents spread.”

He flicked the coin again.

Clack clack clack…

The coin slowed.

Again, it landed heads up.

The king stared toward the ceiling.

The middle-aged man looked at the coin.

“But the exposure is so obvious it almost feels like a trap.”

“If we act rashly, wouldn’t we be like fish biting the hook—pulled out of the water by the other side?”

The old man shook his head.

“For us, this is an opportunity.”

“Whether it’s a trap… depends on whether the hunter eventually becomes the prey.”

He picked up the coin again and placed it in his palm.

“You will handle this matter.”

The middle-aged man nodded.

His gaze fell on the name frozen at the center of the screen.

“Jiang Ran.”

After a pause, he continued.

“The staff credits deliberately emphasize that the original author, scriptwriter, and screenwriter are all the same person.”

“It almost feels like they want people to focus on him.”

“Because it’s hard for me to believe that an eighteen-year-old university student could truly be connected to this matter.”

“This kid definitely has a problem.”

The old man slid a stack of investigative documents across the table.

“If he isn’t the one with the problem, then someone around him is. In any case… there must be a problem.”

He switched on the lights.

The conference room brightened.

The middle-aged man picked up the documents and began reading.

University student.

Donghai University.

Recommended by the Dragon Country Academy of Sciences.

Direct admission to graduate study.

“Interesting.”

He smiled.

But he didn’t seem overly concerned.

Then he turned to the final page.

A line of text had been specially highlighted in red by the old man.

The middle-aged man’s smile vanished.

Then—

He burst into loud laughter.

“Fascinating! This is truly fascinating!”

“You already knew from the beginning who should handle this matter, didn’t you?”

The old man rubbed the coin thoughtfully and smiled.

“Exactly.”

“It feels like we’ve had the key all along—yet never knew where the lock was.”

“And now…”

“The lock has finally appeared.”

He pressed the coin upright with his middle finger and flicked it again.

Clack clack clack…

“Just as we’ve always done—approach him quietly. Investigate him. Become his closest friend. Gain his trust.”

“And ultimately discover everything about him.”

The middle-aged man nodded and stood up.

“After we discover everything… what then?”

He drew his index finger across his throat.

“Do we eliminate him?”

The old man closed his eyes and shook his head.

“No.”

“That would be far too wasteful.”

Clack… clack…

The coin slowed and fell flat.

This time—

It landed tails up.

The reverse side was engraved with another detailed design.

A simple drawing of a Ferris wheel.

Eight circular cabins surrounded it.

At the center of the Ferris wheel—

A massive eye gazed out at the world.

Looking at the coin’s reverse emblem, the old man smiled faintly.

“In this game…”

“I will grant him…”

“The most valuable death.”