Television programs nowadays never have low ratings.
Working at a TV station in the 1980s was incredibly fortunate – it sounded prestigious and truly was. When producing a program, there was no need to worry about ratings; once broadcast, viewers would faithfully watch… There were only a few TV stations and no variety of satellite channels. Ordinary households could only watch the Central Station plus two or three local stations. China Central Television’s program quality surpassed local stations, and viewers nationwide preferred CCTV!
As the industry’s monopolistic leader, why worry about trivial matters like ratings?
Xia Xiaolan was also pleased that despite such powerful ratings, CCTV’s advertising fees remained quite reasonable. This was 1985 – in ten years, CCTV’s Spring Festival Gala would introduce the “King of Ads” concept, and from then on, not only would Spring Festival Gala advertising fees skyrocket, but regular time slot fees would also steadily increase.
For now, the price was completely acceptable to Xia Xiaolan.
After Xia Xiaolan expressed willingness to spend over a million on advertising, they immediately showed her a program schedule to choose from.
She could even select the slot before the News Broadcast, though the advertising time would be shorter – what normally covered three months would be compressed to one.
After the News Broadcast, options were more flexible.
The term “prime time” didn’t exist yet, but the station internally knew which time slots had the highest viewership. These were “premium slots,” and advertising fees varied accordingly.
“Advertisement content must pass review. If station leaders disapprove, it won’t air.”
The manager cautioned Xia Xiaolan, worried that her youth might lead to inappropriate content. Even with Zhan Aiqun’s connection, unsuitable content couldn’t be broadcast.
“Don’t worry, our advertisement content is very wholesome and positive. We’ve hired Zhang Xiao, and Director Wang Linshu is editing the footage.”
Zhang Xiao had a wholesome image and played positive roles.
As for Wang Linshu, the manager knew him: “You even know Wang Linshu? Isn’t he filming ‘Dream of the Red Chamber’? Ah, I understand – he must have asked you to audition, right?”
Wang Linshu had become obsessed with filming “Dream of the Red Chamber.”
It was a CCTV production. From its project approval in 1981 to formal filming in 1984, now at the end of 1985, it still wasn’t complete.
The three-year preparation period between approval and filming was partly due to Wang Linshu’s pickiness in casting. It wasn’t surprising he’d noticed Xia Xiaolan, with her beauty and especially expressive eyes.
Xia Xiaolan found it amusing that everyone knew about Director Wang’s peculiarities.
“Director Wang did invite me to audition, but I’m focusing on my studies, so I declined his kind offer.”
With Zhan Aiqun’s connection and their shared topic of Wang Linshu, relations warmed considerably. The advertisement’s duration would depend on the total length and chosen time slot.
“Regarding the broadcast date, be prepared – even if everything goes smoothly, it won’t be until the 26th of this month.”
The 26th?
That date was quite suitable.
Xia Xiaolan couldn’t help asking, “Are there any other clothing advertisements scheduled recently?”
The manager had access to the advertising schedule.
“Clothing ads? None – you’re the only one. We mostly have watch, bicycle, and refrigerator advertisements.”
The manager’s face clearly showed “Who needs to advertise clothes?”
Xia Xiaolan felt relieved – apparently, Ji Ya’s influence hadn’t reached CCTV advertising yet.
“Then I’ll send you the advertisement footage quickly. The 26th works perfectly.”
Ji Ya’s fashion show was on the 24th. The news wasn’t as immediate then – forget newspapers and magazines, even TV interviews needed editing before broadcast. With limited news distribution channels, information needed time to spread.
News from the 24th might make the evening paper that day.
But for TV broadcasts, it would take until at least the 25th.
After allowing time for public discussion and opinion to develop, Xia Xiaolan estimated it would be after the 26th.
This timing for Luna’s advertisement was perfect.
Xia Xiaolan was very satisfied with the broadcast timing. Seeing their discussion wrapping up, Zhan Aiqun ended tea time: “It’s almost mealtime – let’s have dinner together! Consider it a favor to me!”
With Xia Xiaolan also persuading, the manager couldn’t resist two women’s urging and relented:
“Let’s be clear – just a simple meal, nothing extravagant!”
Xia Xiaolan agreed readily.
The manager wasn’t joking about taking away the letters. After the English Competition program aired, Xia Xiaolan’s face became recognizable, and her championship victory prompted many viewers to write. Only a small portion went to the school; most came to CCTV.
The production team had filled a large sack, which took both Xia Xiaolan and Zhan Aiqun’s effort to load into the car.
Seeing them panting from the effort, the manager laughed: “I told you Student Xia was popular! Have you considered working at the station after graduation? Your standard Mandarin and good image would make you an excellent program host.”
This was a joke.
Since she wouldn’t even act in Wang Linshu’s drama, the possibility of becoming a TV host was very small.
At this point, Xia Xiaolan could only smile.
Though they’d agreed on a simple meal, Xia Xiaolan, being socially adept, had already arranged everything at the Beijing Hotel.
Chen Xiliang and Zhang Xiao joined them. Young Master Ge had managed to create a presentable look for Zhang Xiao – the misty makeup added softness to her round face and prominent features.
Master Ge was truly skilled!
After dinner, Chen Xiliang presented a gift to the manager, emphasizing it was a “local specialty.” The manager accepted only because of trust in Zhan Aiqun.
When Xia Xiaolan offered to drive them back, the manager insisted on staying to catch up with Zhan Aiqun.
Xia Xiaolan, Chen Xiliang, and Zhang Xiao had to leave first.
Watching her drive away, the manager asked Zhan Aiqun: “Little Xia must have an impressive background for you to be running around helping her.”
An ordinary college student wouldn’t come to negotiate million-dollar deals at the TV station.
Zhan Aiqun wrote the character “Zhou” with tea water on the table. “She’s from that family. What do you think? Quite outstanding, right? I also like Little Xia’s personality – she’s sensible, clever, and likable. If we can help with small matters, we should!”
The Zhou family?
The manager weighed the gift in hand: “They’re truly fortunate then.”
He wasn’t referring to Xia Xiaolan’s fortune, but the Zhou family’s.
Society has changed these past two years. How long would it take to afford a car like Xia Xiaolan’s on a regular salary alone?
Whether choosing a son-in-law or daughter-in-law, everything else was secondary – capability was what mattered… Xia Xiaolan, still a student, had created a clothing brand and could spend millions on CCTV advertising – if that wasn’t capability, what was?