Writing Web Novels In America-Chapter 277 - 282: Press Conference

"Stallone, Stallone!"

Cheers erupted in the plaza outside the Universal building.

"Is it really necessary for so many stars to attend just a project launch?" a paparazzo muttered.

"Of course," young John sneered dismissively, "Francis Coppola is the director among those four who loves to give newcomers a chance to perform."

"Have actors renowned for their acting skills like Al Pacino ever appeared in the other three’s works?"

As the first to report River Phoenix’s sudden death and having been shot by Johnny Depp, he was considered an authority among the paparazzi.

"And besides, Francis is also a representative figure of the Hollywood Italian community and has good relations with art film directors."

"Of course, there would be a crowd for his daughter’s directorial debut."

Meanwhile, backstage, Wang Jian could feel the situation.

Initially, his meeting with the actors accompanied by Caroline, Max, Chris, and others, was fairly harmonious.

But soon, the actors abandoned the women to mingle with the attending stars.

Liu Yuling, always an outsider in Hollywood because of her Asian heritage, approached Wang Jian.

"Thank you for giving me this opportunity!"

And the female singer who had just backstabbed Sofia, Jennifer Lopez, appeared somewhat isolated.

"Mr. Wang, did you really write that song?"

"Wang," his neighbor, director Quentin, came up to him.

Wang Jian quickly excused himself from the two women and asked quietly, "I thought you didn’t like Hollywood, so what brings you here?"

"Come on!" the rotund man shrugged, "I’m Italian, too, naturally, I’d attend."

"But as a big shot with clout on the set, why are only a few people circling you?"

"That few?" Wang Jian looked back; although Caroline had dragged Max off to take photos with the stars, Liu Yuling and Lopez had stepped in.

"Of course," Quentin chuckled, "you have no idea how crazy Hollywood is. As long as you have clout, men, women, or both—it’s no problem."

"Only having two women around you is a sign of being ostracized and losing power," he said with a laugh, "But considering the director is from the Coppola family, it’s somewhat understandable."

Wang Jian looked around at the gathering, unconcerned, and shook his head.

Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, Joe Pesci, Martin Scorsese—each of their renown far surpassed his own!

As for Sofia’s relentless disparagement, that was even less of a concern.

After all, in this matter, his role was far from honorable; could he truly begrudge others a few complaints?

"Alright," Quentin showed a contrite expression, "I should go and socialize, too."

Wang Jian nodded and rejoined the women.

"Wang, with so many stars, it really is like a dream!" murmured Chris.

Hearing this, Beyoncé and Lopez rolled their eyes.

The current situation was obvious; they were all part of a "loser’s league."

Gathered together, they were nothing more than seeking warmth from each other.

Suddenly, Wang Jian heard a gasp from outside the door.

"Who’s this? Which big-name star is offering support now?"

He looked puzzled at the esteemed guests like Francis and Eastwood and stood up to welcome the newcomer.

"How high-profile must one be!"

Unexpectedly, the arrival was not an actor.

Wang Jian glanced and sighed inwardly.

"The Writers Association is really out to put themselves on the spot!"

"Mr. Joseph Heller, how come you’ve come yourself?" Francis showed a pleasantly surprised look.

Because of his status, Eastwood, who was a step behind, could only converse with Stephen King, who was in a wheelchair.

Daniel Steel, the most famous female writer in the United States, second only to Oprah in female influence, began to leverage her feminine advantages.

"We’re worried that due to your artistic integrity, there might be some unpleasantness between you and the others, Mr. Wang Jian."

Her expression essentially made it clear, "We’re here to show our support for fellow writers!"

Francis’s mouth twitched, "Wang is over there, I’ll take you all to him."

"Who are these people?" an actor whispered.

"The most famous contemporary writers in the United States, they’re the ones who control numerous IPs!"

Wang Jian looked at Stephen King and others, shaking his head helplessly.

"Though writers are not particularly profit-driven, they’re extremely sensitive about adaptations."

"Their own works get adapted, yet they don’t attend the publicity events."

"But simply because they have a say in adaptations, these writers, who usually shy away from the limelight, have actually shown up!"

Wang Jian flashed a smile appropriate for a younger generation, while internally scoffing.

"Still, being a representative is quite energy-draining!"

"Wang," Joseph Heller grabbed Wang Jian’s hand, "Are things going smoothly with everything?"

"Yes, very smoothly!" Wang Jian replied sincerely.

"If it were a failure, the writers’ group wouldn’t have put me in the spotlight."

"Because my taste in film isn’t as good as Hollywood’s!"

"Wow," Jennifer Lopez and Beyoncé exchanged glances as they saw the VIPs approaching, and the corners of their mouths rose slightly.

They tacitly pushed others aside and grabbed onto Wang Jian’s arm.

Wang Jian furrowed his brow, about to speak.

At that moment, the host announced it was time to go out and face the journalists.

It had to be said, the public held actors to different moral standards than they did writers.

After giving their opinions on the film, the actors faced a barrage of privacy-invading questions.

And their private lives were no less chaotic than Daniel Steel’s, were they?

"Ms. Steel, have you begun preparing your next novel?"

For the first time, the stars felt an unfairness in how they were treated compared to well-known writers.

Why were they scandals, while the writers’ group was just seeking inspiration?

Yet Wang Jian, basking in the spotlight, felt extremely uncomfortable.

He hoped for failure to escape a role he didn’t wish to play.

But that didn’t mean Wang Jian wanted to witness a farce of "mountains crumbling, seas overturning, and finally, a little mouse being born!"

He moved his feet lightly, slowly hiding behind other people.

Suddenly, a paparazzo pointed at the sky and yelled, "Is that helicopter planning to land?"

What the?

Just for a project initiation ceremony, was Universal doing an aerial shoot?

Wang Jian looked up, internally scorning.

Soon, the helicopter landed on the plaza.

"Wang, I’m here to see you!"

Huh?

Wang Jian saw the big fat man disembarking from the helicopter, gritting his teeth in annoyance.

"Wozniak, you really are everywhere, aren’t you!"

"Haha, I brought someone else who wants to meet you too," Wozniak approached, laughing while completely ignoring the stunned reporters and stars.

"It’s really too much trouble, thank you so much!" Wang Jian grabbed his pudgy hand, saying forcefully.

"Not at all, it’s just half an hour from Silicon Valley here."

"Right?" He turned his head to the middle-aged Caucasian man behind him, "Elson?"

"Yeah." The middle-aged man smiled and nodded, then shook hands with Wang Jian, "Oracle, Elson."

"Hey, Wang!" he whispered, "Will our arrival help you overshadow those Hollywood stars?"

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