Love Variety Show: The despised me exploded in popularity

Wei Wufeng possessed a talent that was widely recognized as passable, at least among a crowd of second-generation directors where he stood out like Peppa Pig in a pigpen or Pleasant Goat in a sheepfold.

The kid was just a tad unlucky, all that energy with nowhere to put it. Either he couldn't find good material, or when he did, it was ruined by crappy actors.

In any case, the quality of the works directed by Wei Wufeng was inconsistent.

Even if you knew it was likely a piece of crap, you couldn't be too sure until you opened it up. Without watching, you could never judge, but watching might leave you upset for a week.

The screen flashed by, producer: Xu Qingyan, screenwriter: Xu Qingyan.

This time, Jiang Fangmao was completely astonished.

Are you kidding me?

A script written by a singer, who invited this clown? Jiang Fangmao was all too familiar with the name Xu Qingyan, the singer of "Blue and White Porcelain."

Back in the day, who hadn't heard of "Blue and White Porcelain?" It was playing everywhere on the streets.

Though its popularity had waned, the name Xu Qingyan had stuck in people's minds. As a singer of the ending theme or main theme, Jiang Fangmao would've had total respect for him.

After all, the three characters Xu Qingyan signified a certain standard of song quality. But... screenwriter, producer? This was just a joke, who let you cross fields like that?

By this point, Jiang Fangmao had pretty much sentenced this "The Legend of Martial Arts" to death. Only out of friendship did he feel obliged to stick it out for ten minutes.

As always, even though opening it might reveal trash, not opening it meant you couldn't discard it.

After a dark screen, it began.

A male and female villain burst into Seven Heroes Town, sending everyone into panic. The introduction began with an ensemble scene, which genuinely surprised Jiang Fangmao; it was unconventional, after all.

In scripts, the hardest path to take is not brainless thrillers or suspense, but ensembles.

Go too deep and it becomes an exercise in pretension, posing as profound but incomprehensible. Too shallow and characters become forgettable.

Then you'd angrily blurt out, "What kind of crap is this at the start?!!!"

This hugely tests the screenwriter's foundations and also the director's confidence. Any somewhat experienced director knows it's best to keep the beginning to only two or three characters.
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But this show went against the grain, which to Jiang Fangmao seemed like a death wish.

He continued watching: in the dead of night, a few folks at Tongfu Inn were gathered in the lobby discussing how to deal with the crisis. The disturbance created by the male and female villains appearing on the rooftop startled everyone.

In the computer screen, the people of Tongfu Inn scrambled, each spouting a line of dialogue. Jiang Fangmao almost held his nose to get through it, but after watching more...

He realized it was... actually not bad?

With few words across two crises, the ensemble scene had sketched the identity of each person. The cook, the scholar, the shopkeeper, the young girl, the useless waiter.

The prideful daughter of a martial hero was haughty and inept, all talk and no action, becoming an all-purpose worker at the inn – a typical 'fall from grace' story.

He had planned to watch for just ten minutes, but before he knew it, he had watched the entire episode without skipping a second.

Listening to the ending theme, Jiang Fangmao hadn't yet snapped back to reality, his emotions a mix of various feelings. As he was about to shut it off, the first line of the ending song "Arch-nemesis" made him pause again.

"Where will I encounter you, is it fated from a former life. Flying across the span of time, yet ensnared within blades and shadows. In March, spring flowers slowly awaken, who ages through the years that pass... "

Lyric after lyric flowed across the screen, accompanied by Jiang Ling's soft singing voice. The more Jiang Fangmao watched, the more he felt the song had substance, as if waiting for him here.

True to Xu Qingyan's style, he probably had a hand in the ending song as well.

A good theme or ending song sometimes could spike a web series' views. After all, crappy films often produce divine songs, enticing viewers with slick promotion.

Three minutes later, he listened to "Arch-nemesis" in full. Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes gently. He had misjudged this one – the first episode was of very high quality.

Among all the sitcoms that had surfaced, it was one that could be remembered for its ups and downs.

Jiang Fangmao felt the excitement of stumbling upon a treasure, especially since it was just his first day back at work, and he had hit the jackpot. But as the old saying goes, it's ill-advised to pop the champagne mid-race.

Some shows are only impressive for three seconds before changing writers midstream. It wasn't unheard of; the absurdity of showbiz could sometimes outstrip even the wildest films.

So, with a mix of excitement and nervousness, he continued to watch.

Unwittingly, he looked up and it was time to clock out for lunch; he had buried himself in watching three episodes. The overall feeling was that the content was fresh, the concepts clever.

Unlike the typical stories of dashing heroes and epic sagas of love, the characters in "The Legend of Martial Arts" brought comedy to their tragedies, a sense of unpretentious warmth.

The slightly melancholic ending song was rather "tragic wuxia", always causing Jiang Fangmao to speculate whether this might be the director's hint at future plot twists.

In the first episode, the reactions of the Tongfu Inn's people to the crisis suggested that Bai Zhantang was a martial arts master; how long could he keep hidden, and would there be a "knife" issue later?

Despite being an easygoing and humorous martial arts sitcom, it filled Jiang Fangmao with anticipation. He had even imagined the thrilling moments and was deeply moved.

He was about to continue when a curious colleague came over.

"Old Jiang, why haven't you left yet?"

"Found a good show, seems pretty decent," Jiang Fangmao looked up at his colleague, about to say more, then suddenly realized something.

"It's time to leave?"

"Yeah, I saw you busy working from way over there," his colleague said with a grin, resting a hand on his chair, "Sneakily trying to get ahead, eh?"