mesbooks Chapter 308 A Love Letter to the Future
Chapter 308 A Love Letter to the Future
Chapter 308 A Love Letter to the Future
In the dead of night, the streets were completely silent, with only the hazy moonlight, like a soft veil, gently draping over the two of them.
Sensing the unreserved sincerity and affection of Matsu Takako in his arms, Kitahara Shin's gaze softened considerably. He lowered his head slightly, looking at the girl's eyelashes, which trembled slightly with nervousness and shyness, and her blushing cheeks.
Without many words, on this night when even the wind seemed exceptionally gentle, Kitahara Shin slowly lowered his head and, at just the right distance, gently kissed Matsu Takako's lips.
It was a kiss that was pure and beautiful, without any aggression, like the first snowflake falling in this late autumn night, a light touch that melted into endless warmth in the heart.
Matsu Takako's body stiffened slightly the moment she was touched, then completely softened in the gentle kiss. When their lips parted, her face was as red as a ripe apple, and even the base of her neck was flushed with an alluring pink.
"Um—Shin-kun, I'm heading back now! Goodnight!"
Like a startled fawn, Matsu Takako hurriedly took two steps back, bowed deeply to Kitahara Shin, then gripped her bag strap tightly and turned to run towards her house. When she reached the door, she couldn't help but stop, turn back, and take a deep look at Kitahara Shin through the night before reluctantly pushing open the door and going inside.
Watching the door slowly close, Kitahara Shin stood there, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Just then, the system that had been dormant in his mind for a long time suddenly emitted a crisp notification sound.
[Ding! A special item with extremely high emotional value has been detected.]
[Item successfully identified: Equipment being generated —]
Kitahara Shin paused slightly, then opened his palm to look at the vintage silver pendant box that Matsu Takako had just given him, containing a photo of the two of them skiing for the first time. At that moment, a deep and mysterious purple halo, visible only to him, flowed across the surface of this seemingly ordinary pendant box.
[Obtained Epic (Purple) Special Equipment: A Glimpse of Time (Photo Frame Pendant)]
[Equipment Attributes: This is a token carrying pure gratitude and silent devotion. Although it doesn't reach the miraculous level of a legendary gold item, its enhancement effect in specific areas is absolutely dominant.]
[Passive Skill 1: Millennium Filter. This equipment will automatically activate when the host is on the set of an art film, drama, or other film production that emphasizes atmosphere. It can perfectly blend the lighting, dust in the air, and even the noise of the film reel into a stunning visual style with a strong sense of "nostalgia."]
Passive Skill Two: Silent Ambiguity. In scenes that do not involve direct physical intimacy or explicit expressions of love, the emotional penetration of every micro-expression of the host (such as shifty eyes, fingertips touching, or a silent sigh) will be increased by 300%.
The terrifying amplification. Without saying "I love you," it can still make the audience feel a profound and unforgettable longing and emotional turmoil on screen.
Looking at the attributes of this newly acquired purple equipment, Kitahara Shin's eyes lit up.
The appearance of this equipment is like a pillow delivered when you're about to fall asleep!
On the way home with Matsu Takako, Kitahara Shin had a thought lingering in his mind. As a time traveler with a futuristic perspective, he knew all too well what people's mental state would be like more than twenty years from now, in an era dominated by short videos, TikTok, and various fast-food cultures.
In a future of information overload where everything is about grabbing attention in five seconds, people will find themselves experiencing a profound spiritual emptiness. Countless young people will begin to yearn intensely for the late 1990s and early 2000s. They will add heavy retro filters to their short videos, accompanied by old songs, to reminisce about the "Millennium Vibe"—a time without smartphones, with slow-paced travel, and nuanced emotions.
Given this, Kitahara Shin felt it was absolutely necessary to utilize the limitations of this era itself, before those limitations were broken, to create a masterpiece that brought "millennial romanticism" to its fullest potential.
He wanted to perfectly preserve the most beautiful, most hazy, and most fragile aspects of this era on film, leaving them for the world twenty years from now to repeatedly mourn and shed tears.
This "Looking Back at Time" pendant, and its "Silent Ambiguity" skill, are practically a nuclear weapon tailor-made for this ultimate artistic and romantic feeling!
Holding this purple outfit, the first director's name that came to Kitahara Shin's mind was Shunji Iwai, the man who had mastered the art of blending the cruelty of youth with the aesthetic beauty of Japanese cinema.
The next morning, Kitahara Shin invited Iwai Shunji directly to his office.
The two had previously enjoyed a very pleasant collaboration, and Shunji Iwai held Kitahara's business acumen and artistic taste in high esteem. When he heard that Kitahara wanted to star in an art film and specifically requested that Iwai direct it with Takako Matsu as the female lead, Iwai was so excited that his hand trembled slightly as he drank his coffee.
"President Kitahara, this is absolutely fantastic! I just happened to have an idea in my head recently, about internet forums..."
"A story about youth, bullying, and a fictional singer, Lily Chou-Chou." Shunji Iwai eagerly pulled a slightly messy script draft from his briefcase and handed it over. "The tentative title is 'All About Lily Chou-Chou.'"
Kitahara Shin took the script and quickly flipped through it.
As he expected, Shunji Iwai's current first draft is very similar to the famous movie in his past life.
The story focuses on a group of fourteen- or fifteen-year-old high school students, filled with brutal school violence, compensated dating, and the oppressive feeling of seeking spiritual sustenance in a virtual online world called "Ether".
"Director Iwai, your talent is undeniable. The concept of 'ether' is also very ahead of its time, accurately capturing the essence of people's loneliness and desire for connection when the Internet was just emerging." Kitahara Shin closed the script and praised it generously.
But then he changed the subject: "However, if this movie is starring me and Takako Matsu, the script will have to be drastically revised."
Shunji Iwai paused for a moment, then humbly took out his notebook: "Please speak, President. I'm all ears."
"First of all, there's the issue of age setting. If Matsu Takako and I were to play fourteen or fifteen-year-old middle school students now, it would not only feel out of place, but it would also ruin the audience's sense of immersion," Kitahara Shin analyzed sharply. "We need to raise the age range of the characters, changing them to college students about to enter the workforce, or urban youths who have just suffered setbacks in the workplace and are feeling lost."
"Secondly, there's the tone of the story." Kitahara Shin tapped his fingers lightly on the table. "The cruelty of youth in the original script was too fragmented, too stream-of-consciousness. That kind of setting, cruelty for the sake of cruelty, may get high scores from some film critics, but it's hard for the general public to have a lasting and profound resonance. It's different from the pure emotion that swept across Asia like Love Letter."
"Does the president mean to reduce the cruel parts and increase the love scenes?" Shunji Iwai asked hesitantly.
"No, quite the opposite. We must completely strip away love in the traditional sense!" Kitahara Shin's eyes gleamed with a keen insight into human nature.
"In this film, I don't need the male and female leads to say 'I love you,' nor do I need any clichéd scenes of holding hands or kissing. I want you to portray their relationship as an extreme, transcending physical intimacy and a 'soulful resonance.'"
Kitahara Shin began to describe in detail the optimized conception in his mind: "In reality, the male and female protagonists are two seemingly parallel lines. They might be strangers passing each other on the same train, or lonely individuals searching for the same CD in the same record store. They endure their own pain and repression in reality, but at night, in that virtual BBS forum called 'Lily Chou-Chou,' they become soulmates who understand each other best. They confide in each other online..."
They redeemed each other, unaware that the other was the very person they had missed countless times in reality.
As Kitahara Shin described it, Iwai Shunji's eyes widened and his breathing became rapid.
This is so high-class!
The story transforms the physical bullying of a fourteen-year-old boy into a spiritual island for adults in the steel jungle of modern cities; it transforms a straightforward crush into an extreme ambiguity, like a mirage, where the internet and reality intertwine! This setting not only retains the original script's forward-looking exploration of the virtuality of the internet, but also endows the entire story with a heartbreakingly romantic beauty.
"President—this—this is simply a genius reconstruction!" Shunji Iwai stood up excitedly, pacing back and forth in his office. "If we follow this approach, we can use a lot of backlighting, using a handheld camera to capture the indifference of the Tokyo streets, and then contrast it with the warm and psychedelic tones of their interactions in the online world! Finally, when they look at each other across the sea of people outside a real concert, yet still don't recognize each other—my God, the beauty of this poignant regret will absolutely bring tears to my eyes!"
"That's right, this is the effect I wanted." Kitahara Shin smiled with satisfaction. "I want to capture the unique graininess of this era, the mystery and romance of the early days of the internet. I'll leave the script refinement to you. Don't worry about the budget; just focus on making the visuals as beautiful as possible."
After finalizing the direction for the radical modification and optimization of "All About Lily Chou-Chou," Kitahara Shin sent Iwai Shunji back to seclusion to polish the script.
By this time, the Kitahara Group was no longer the makeshift operation that needed to scramble for investment and beg for help to cobble together a "production committee."
For Shin Kitahara, the massively expensive "Resident Evil: Origins" was far more than just a box office hit. That enormous investment of hundreds of millions of dollars had a huge, often overlooked, side effect: it essentially helped the Kitahara Group build a complete, independent, and highly industrialized Hollywood-style film production line!
During the filming of "Resident Evil," Kitahara Productions subdivided its operations into numerous highly specialized departments to meet the demanding requirements for special effects and staging.
The special effects supervisor, poached from Hollywood with a hefty sum, was stationed at the rendering farm in Chiba Prefecture. Top prop masters and costume designers recruited from across the country formed a massive logistics center. Even the recruitment of extras and the coordination of venues were handled with a set of SOPs (Standard Operating Procedures) comparable to precision instruments.
With this system, Kitahara Productions has become the most efficient and ruthless film and television production machine in all of Asia.
This means that for projects like "All About Lily Chou-Chou," once they pass the "Greenlight System" with Shin Kitahara, the subsequent process will be incredibly smooth.
In the past, when making movies in Japan, once the director had a script, he had to go to a film company, which would then bring in TV stations, publishers, and distributors to form a lengthy and contentious "production committee." They would argue about the budget, argue about which idol to include in the cast, and the process was extremely inefficient.
But now, within the Kitahara Group, Shunji Iwai only needs to submit the script. The internal budget review department will provide an accurate financial statement within three days; the casting department will immediately select the most suitable supporting actors from the company's vast talent pool; and the props and set department will simultaneously begin scouting locations in Tokyo and obtaining filming permits.
This highly centralized, full-chain industrial operation model was a game-changer in Asia at the time!
It not only made film production exceptionally efficient, but also provided thousands of high-paying jobs for the entire Japanese society. From entry-level lighting assistants and makeup artists to high-end CGI programmers and sound engineers, countless people have secured lucrative careers thanks to the rise of the Kitahara Group. Shin Kitahara's company is becoming a truly powerful entity injecting strong vitality into the Japanese economy.
The capital market always has the keenest sense of smell.
The Japanese stock market has given the most direct and enthusiastic response to the Kitahara Group's terrifying rate of evolution.
Initially, many conservative institutional investors harbored some doubts about Kitahara Manufacturing. They believed that the company's success relied too heavily on the talent of "Nori Kitahara" himself. They feared that if Kitahara's talent ran dry, or if something unexpected happened, the company would collapse instantly. Betting on the talent of one person is a highly unreliable and illusory strategy that capital fears most.
However, when these investment tycoons and Wall Street analysts understood the Kitahara Group's internal "Resident Evil" strategy...
After leaving behind the industrialized production lines, their attitude underwent a complete 180-degree turn.
They were shocked to discover that Kitahara Shin was not only an artistic genius, but also a top-notch systems architect!
He successfully transformed his personal talent into a sustainable and replicable modern corporate system! Now, whatever movies or variety shows his team makes, there are extremely standardized processes and a guaranteed high standard. This company is no longer just a talent agency, but a modern content production giant similar to Walt Disney or Warner Bros.!
"Buy heavily! Sweep up the market at all costs!"
This was a death order issued by top financial groups such as Nomura Securities and Daiwa Securities in an internal meeting. Countless forward-thinking international investors poured in, waving their money. The Kitahara Group's stock price on the Tokyo Stock Exchange soared like a helicopter, drawing dazzling bullish candlesticks, and its market capitalization expanded exponentially, becoming the most dazzling stabilizing force in the entire Asian capital market.
While the outside world was going crazy over the Kitahara Group's business miracle, Kitahara Shin remained unusually calm.
For him, the attention from the capital market was a natural consequence. His current focus is entirely on the upcoming filming of "All About Lily Chou-Chou."
At this moment, he was standing in the fitting room of the Chiyoda Ward headquarters.
He had already worn the purple pendant, "A Glimpse of Time," close to his body around his neck. The faint purple aura seemed to be continuously infusing his limbs and bones with an indescribable atmosphere.
Kitahara Shin changed into a seemingly ordinary yet vintage-looking gray wool coat and stood in front of the full-length mirror.
He didn't make any exaggerated expressions, but simply lowered his eyes slightly, imagining the male protagonist in the script who struggled alone in reality and desperately searched for his soulmate online.
At that very moment, the passive skill [Silent Ambiguity] was triggered!
The assistant and stylist glanced at it casually, then stood frozen in place as if struck by lightning.
In their sight, Kitahara Shin said nothing, or even changed his posture, yet the air around him seemed to instantly become melancholic and thick. His slightly drooping eyes conveyed a chilling loneliness; his hands, casually tucked into his coat pockets, seemed to conceal countless unspeakable secrets.
That sense of tension, that restraint and control—the desire to get closer yet the ability to gaze at each other from afar on opposite sides of the screen—emanated from him as if it were a tangible thing, directly piercing through the psychological defenses of onlookers.
The costume designer beside him clutched his chest, his eyes inexplicably reddening, and murmured to himself, "The president is just standing here, so why do I feel like—he just lost the love of his life?"
Listening to the stylist's comments, Kitahara Shin opened his eyes, looked at himself in the mirror, and a satisfied smile appeared on his lips.
The power of the equipment was even more terrifying than he had imagined.
This extreme artistic tension, coupled with his personally revised fantasy script and Shunji Iwai's superb cinematic direction, gave Kitahara Shin absolute confidence that when this film was released, it would not only become the most unparalleled artistic masterpiece of this era, but would also leave a stunning reflection in the annals of film history twenty or even fifty years from now, a reflection that all future generations could only look up to and could never replicate.
"Notify the entire team that filming will officially begin tomorrow."
The next morning, the filming location was a slightly dilapidated but very lively street in Tokyo.
The crew of "All About Lily Chou-Chou" ushered in the first day of filming. Thanks to Kitahara Productions' ruthless and efficient industrial assembly line, there was no chaotic shouting on set. The lighting, sound recording, and camera tracks were quickly put into place, like precise gears, with the cooperation of various departments.
Takako Matsu arrived at the set early, wearing a simple, slightly vintage-style, plain-colored trench coat. To match the restrained and understated tone of the film, she appeared almost makeup-free, wearing only a thin layer of foundation. When she saw Shin Kitahara, dressed in his costume, standing quietly by the monitor, conversing softly with Shunji Iwai, her eyes involuntarily...
A hint of tenderness and reassurance was revealed.
As the other important supporting actors and extras entered the set one after another, a tiny yet poignant interlude unfolded in a corner of the film set, imbued with the weight of time.
In the waiting area for extras, stood several middle-aged extras with somewhat weathered faces and slightly overweight figures. They held hot coffees provided by the crew in their hands, but Zi Guang involuntarily bypassed the layers of camera tracks and fixed his gaze on Kitahara Shin, who was surrounded like a star in the center of the room.
The eyes of these veteran extras didn't hold the fervent screams of young fans; instead, they conveyed an indescribable sense of awe, complexity, and deep emotion.
Ten years ago, during the late Showa era when Japan's bubble economy was at its most frenzied, they, like Kitahara Shin who had just entered the industry and was unknown, were still low-level extras struggling to earn a few thousand yen a day in various film crews.
They even vaguely remembered that back then, on the set of a poorly made late-night gangster film, they squatted in the cold wind of an abandoned factory and ate the cheapest kind of cold bento box with rice that was a little hard; they shivered together in the middle of the night, just to wait for the director to give them a few seconds of screen time where the protagonist punches them away and they can't even see their faces.
However, time flies, and things change.
In just ten short years, the trajectory of fate has drawn a terrifying chasm.
The handsome young man who once squatted beside them eating lunch has now become an uncrowned king spanning the Asian film and television industry and the Western technology world. A check he casually signs can buy countless film crews like those of yesteryear; a single decision he makes can send shivers down the spines of the entire Hollywood.
And they, after wasting ten years, are still at the bottom of this industry, grateful for a minor role with no lines.
Looking at the man in the distance, exuding a profound aura and seemingly controlling everything like an emperor, these veteran extras felt a strong sense of absurdity and awe, as if they were in another world. The days of walking side-by-side were now worlds apart, an insurmountable distance.
Seemingly noticing the unusual gazes, Kitahara Shin, who was confirming the positioning with Iwai Shunji, slightly turned his head, his gaze passing over the crowd and landing precisely on these veteran extras.
The moment their eyes met, the veteran extras shuddered in fright, instinctively wanting to lower their heads and avoid eye contact, fearing that their somewhat presumptuous direct gaze might offend the now high-ranking tycoon.
Given Kitahara Shin's current status and the massive amount of information he has to process every day, it's impossible for him to clearly remember these ordinary faces he only met once ten years ago.
However, looking at the faded extras' vests they wore, and at their hesitant yet respectful eyes, Kitahara Shin, who had experienced countless hardships at the bottom and high places in his past and present lives, understood the vicissitudes and sense of time in their eyes almost instantly.
He didn't put on any airs or show any displeasure at being disturbed.
Amidst the awe-inspiring gazes of all the staff, Kitahara Shin merely paused his conversation, turned to face the few uneasy veteran extras, and with an extremely natural upward curve of the corners of his mouth, revealed a gentle, calm, and old-fashioned gentlemanly smile.
Then, he nodded slightly, paying a silent tribute to his colleagues who had witnessed his humble beginnings.
That simple smile and nod, like a ray of warm sunshine in winter, instantly dispelled the fear in the hearts of those veteran extras. Their eyes inexplicably welled up with tears, and they quickly straightened their backs and bowed deeply to Kitahara Shin with utmost solemnity.
Without a word, they achieved the most perfect release from the past decade.
"President, all departments are ready," Shunji Iwai whispered a reminder from the side.
Kitahara Shin withdrew his gaze, his eyes becoming deep and focused once again, the ultimate artistic tension brought about by the "look back at time" seamlessly covering his entire body once more.
"Alright, let's begin." Kitahara Shin straightened his coat collar and calmly walked to the center of the camera. "Let's capture the most beautiful regrets of this era and show them to the future."
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