Chapter 498: Someone is throwing money at me (8,000-character update!)

Rushing and hurrying, *Love Letter* finished filming three days before the Lunar New Year. It was a wrap.

The entire crew burst into excited cheers the moment Lu Yanhe announced the wrap.

Of course, the reason they were so excited and thrilled was that they could finally go home for the New Year.

Since it was already the time of the New Year, although the New Year's Eve dinner Zhao Yuheng had originally prepared was no longer needed, Lu Yanhe still had Zhao Yuheng distribute the red envelopes he had prepared for everyone on New Year's Eve, one for each person as planned.

Lu Yanhe felt particularly emotional.

"This is my first time acting as a director. Now that the movie has wrapped, I still feel like I'm dreaming. It feels like I just muddled through and finished shooting this film," he said with a smile. "Unlike being an actor, I've discovered that as a director, sometimes I feel very disconnected from the actual operations, because every specific task has to be delegated to all of you. I only take responsibility for setting the requirements. I'm sure each of you must have complained about me in your hearts."

Everyone on set laughed.

"But it seems that being a director is just like this—at least that's my own experience. You must set requirements, you must be nitpicky, and you must demand that everything appearing on camera meets the standard I want, from the actors' performances to the changes in lighting. Otherwise, once you feel you can settle for 'good enough,' what follows will be more than just a small matter."

Lu Yanhe took a deep breath.

"I am especially grateful to have met all of you during my first film as a director. Because of your help, we were able to complete this movie together. I know many people say that film is the art of the director, but only after being a director do you realize that a film cannot be completed by the director alone," Lu Yanhe said firmly. "Our filming has come to a pause, but there is still post-production to do, then the release, and then, perhaps we will go to film festivals and attend many award ceremonies. This is not the end of our gathering. Let us meet again in the future!"

Chen Bige rested one hand on Zhang Ruozhi's shoulder and said, "Tsk tsk, Ruozhi, look at that—what a silver tongue he has."

Zhang Ruozhi smiled shyly.

She said, "The director seems to be brilliant at everything."

"You're right, he really is a monster," Chen Bige laughed. "After the wrap, are you going back to school?"

"Yes," Zhang Ruozhi nodded. "I'm in my second year of high school now."

Chen Bige did some mental math. "Then perhaps when this movie is released, you'll be in your third year? Or maybe you'll have finished the college entrance exam?"

"Maybe," Zhang Ruozhi nodded.

"Are you going to apply to a performing arts school?" Chen Bige asked.

Zhang Ruozhi had acted in *Love Letter*; it would be a natural progression for her to become an actress in the future.

She shook her head instead and said, "I don't have that thought right now."

Chen Bige: "That's also fine. Study hard, just like Lu Yanhe. If you can get into a good university, you'll have many more choices in the future. Don't worry about missing out on opportunities. If you really want to be an actress in the future, come find me, or find Yan He, and we will both help you find opportunities."

Zhang Ruozhi felt flattered and gave a shy "Mm," adding, "Thank you, sister."

Watching Zhang Ruozhi's shy, girlish appearance, Chen Bige couldn't resist touching her face.

"Also, you must be careful. Don't let some boys trick you into their hands too early," Chen Bige said. "You will meet many excellent boys in the future, you know?"

Zhang Ruozhi's cheeks turned red from shyness.

Work finished, things were packed, luggage was bundled, and it was time to go home.

During the Spring Festival travel rush, all kinds of tickets were hard to buy.

By the time Lu Yanhe returned to Yuming, travel-worn and weary, it was already the twenty-ninth day of the twelfth lunar month.

Yan Liang had already returned to his hometown.

Li Zhibai had also gone home.

This year, Lu Yanhe would still be spending the New Year at Chen Siqi's maternal grandparents' house.

Since they didn't have to perform at the Spring Festival Gala this year, they would be sleeping over there.

Because there were no strange, unfamiliar relatives coming to visit, spending the New Year at Chen Siqi's grandparents' house was actually quite comfortable; there was no discomfort of having to make small talk with various people he didn't know.

Chen Siqi's cousin, Jiang Huadong, was also quite funny. He secretly stuffed a stack of photos into Lu Yanhe's hand and said, "Brother Yanhe, help me sign each of these photos. My parents are too stingy; they are very tight with my pocket money. I'll take your signed photos and sell them to my classmates to subsidize my allowance."

He was quite righteous about it, too.

After the New Year, on the second day of the lunar calendar, Lu Yanhe returned to Yuming with Chen Siqi.

Chen Siqi was still staying at a hotel and refused to move back.

This year, they didn't choose to travel abroad for vacation, but instead stayed at the hotel to rest properly for a few days.

Both of them were truly exhausted and needed a good rest.

By the fifth day of the lunar new year, Lu Yanhe dragged Chen Siqi along to attend their high school reunion.

More than thirty classmates showed up, a grand procession.

Many of them hadn't seen each other in three or four years.

This was organized by Li Pengfei and the others. Back when they were in high school, Lu Yanhe wasn't actually very close to many of his classmates, but the few he was truly close to had kept in touch. Meeting everyone this time, Lu Yanhe actually felt a deeper sense of intimacy than he did when they were in school.

Perhaps people are just like that—after parting and reuniting, there is always a bit more of that "long-lost reunion" sentiment.

They went back to the No. 13 Middle School together and took a group photo at the school gate.

The school was empty, with only an old gatekeeper on duty.

Seeing them taking photos at the gate, the old man even asked who they were.

They said they were students who had graduated four years ago.

The old man smiled immediately, but when asked if they could go inside the school for a walk, the old man waved his hand and said decisively, "That won't do."

This was a man of principle.

The classmates pushed Lu Yanhe forward and said, "We really are graduates of No. 13 Middle School. Look, this is Lu Yanhe, our school's outstanding graduate, a big star. You must recognize him, right? We aren't lying to you!"

The old man saw Lu Yanhe and exclaimed, "It really is him."

Everyone thought they would be let in, but the old man's next sentence was, "Lu Yanhe can't go in either! There's no one else in the school right now; no one is allowed in!"

Everyone had no choice but to give up.

It was rare for Yuming to be so sparsely populated.

Many people had returned to their hometowns for the New Year and hadn't come back yet.

In the end, everyone went to a KTV and sang until the early hours of the morning before heading home.

And just like that, the Spring Festival passed.

Another year.

The final semester of their senior year had arrived.

Since there were no more classes, they didn't need to rush back to school. Lu Yanhe first looked at some apartments with Chen Siqi, planning to rent another place near Ziyuanqiao.

The apartment layouts at Ziyuanqiao were all about the same, but the rent had increased quite a bit—Lu Yanhe suspected they were being ripped off.

After all, the whole country knew by now that they definitely weren't short on money.

In reality, given their income, the fact that they still wanted to live here was quite unbelievable to the real estate agent.

Although the apartments here were expensive, that was only relative to ordinary people. In the agent's eyes, with Lu Yanhe and Chen Siqi's current net worth, they should have long since moved into those top-tier residential complexes only glimpsed in TV dramas.

This place could only be called a high-end residential area.

Lu Yanhe and Chen Siqi picked and chose, but in the end, what they weren't satisfied with wasn't the apartment, but the price.

When the agent found out about this, he was incredulous.

"The apartments here are very popular. Once they hit the market, they get rented out very quickly."

"We can pay two years in advance, and the rent here isn't cheap either. You say they get rented out quickly, but I don't believe it," Lu Yanhe said. "I've lived here for almost four years; I know there are always some apartments in this complex that sit vacant for years and can't be rented out."

Agent: "..."

He had forgotten that this person was also a long-term resident of this complex.

"The rent is indeed a bit higher than when you rented here back then, but the entire market is rising; it's not just our area."

The agent's tone was also a bit aggrieved.

He thought to himself, it was only a tiny bit above the market price.

After some back-and-forth haggling, they managed to cut the price down significantly, and both sides signed the contract with satisfaction.

As they left, Lu Yanhe muttered to Chen Siqi, "How come I feel like we still got ripped off? When he signed the contract, he didn't look like it pained him at all."

Chen Siqi smiled and said, "If he hadn't made any money, he wouldn't have signed with us. It's good enough."

Lu Yanhe nodded.

Once the apartment was rented, Lu Yanhe and Chen Siqi started on another task: renovation.

The rented apartment only had basic fixtures, no soft furnishings.

So, they also needed to add a lot of things.

oco

Lu Yanhe and Chen Siqi spent three days visiting furniture markets, buying pots, pans, and various odds and ends, before they finally got the place ready.

Even after it was ready, they couldn't move in immediately; the furniture needed to air out. Of course, it just so happened that Chen Siqi also had to return to school.

The apartment they rented was right next door to the one Lu Yanhe, Li Zhibai, and Yan Liang lived in; this was Building 17, and that was Building 18—they were right next to each other.

Li Zhibai and Yan Liang were stunned to learn that Lu Yanhe and Chen Siqi had rented an apartment next door.

"Damn, we thought you were going to move away immediately and we'd be separated by a great distance from now on," Li Zhibai said.

"That's too much of an exaggeration. Even if I hadn't rented at Ziyuanqiao and rented somewhere else, I'd still be in Yuming. How could we be separated by a great distance?" Lu Yanhe said. "We can still hang out often."

"With the nature of our work, even if we lived in the same house, it would be hard to see each other once a month, let alone not living together," Li Zhibai said. "Especially for gaming—if we didn't live together, it would be hard to make an appointment just to play a game. Since you're living next door, of course, it's no problem. If I open the window and call you, you'll be able to hear me."

Visible happiness appeared on Li Zhibai's face.

Only then did Lu Yanhe realize that Li Zhibai and Yan Liang had actually been feeling down for quite some time in private, thinking he might move away soon.

Yet, these two had never said anything to him about it.

Although it's said that friends don't have to live together and be with each other day and night to be friends, for the three of them, they had lived together since they were fifteen—it had been almost seven years now. After such a long time, it wasn't easy to just separate. None of them would be clingy and say things like "I can't bear to part with you"; for guys, such direct emotional expression was almost impossible. But these things didn't need to be said; they understood each other tacitly.

"This calls for a celebration," Li Zhibai said immediately. "I think we should go out for a meal."

Yan Liang: "A meal—it's rare that the three of us are all here now and not on set."

"Do you have any arrangements for when you'll be on set later?" Lu Yanhe asked.

Yan Liang shook his head and said, "Not for now this year. I filmed several dramas last year, so I won't be on set in the first half of this year. I'll probably go record a variety show as a permanent guest."

"I'm still looking at scripts, too. I have quite a backlog, so I'm not in a hurry to get on set," Li Zhibai said.

Lu Yanhe: "So, am I the only one busy as a dog this year?"

"You go ahead and be busy," Li Zhibai laughed.

"Who told you to have so many sequels to film," Yan Liang added.

Actually, Lu Yanhe didn't have that many sequels to film—just *Seventeen Layers*.

It was mainly the two films *Burning Fire* and *The Mist* that occupied his schedule this year. Especially *Burning Fire*; one film would take nearly three months to shoot.

Of course, this was related to the fact that this film was set up as a blockbuster with many big-scale scenes, which were indeed difficult to shoot.

Moreover, during these nearly three months, Lu Yanhe wouldn't have scenes every day. After filming so many projects, Lu Yanhe was finally able to shoot at a normal pace.

Lu Yanhe had action scenes in *Burning Fire*, but not many.

This was mainly an Oriental fantasy film, constructing a world of sorcery.

Lu Yanhe was the only main actor whose look hadn't been finalized yet, because he had been busy filming *Love Letter* and hadn't found the time to participate in the crew's makeup tests.

That day, Lu Yanhe went over.

What Lu Yanhe didn't expect was that just doing his look would take nearly an hour. From hair to makeup—this was the character that took the longest for Lu Yanhe to get ready. Lu Yanhe's body was almost numb from sitting; he felt like he could just take a nap.

Lu Yanhe's identity in the film was a student at a sorcery academy.

They told him that his look was already considered relatively simple, with no special effects makeup.

Some actors who had special effects makeup started at three hours.

That's how fantasy blockbusters are; there are many "non-human" existences in them.

Lu Yanhe looked at the makeup photos of other actors and gained a general understanding of the style of the characters in the film. This was a period fantasy film with very strong Oriental elements. Indeed, it had that feeling of a Chinese blockbuster; you could tell at a glance.

However, from the look to the texture of the costumes, one could also tell at a glance how much effort the crew had put in. Period dramas are the type of work where audiences can most easily tell whether the quality is there or not; how much was invested and what standard was achieved could be seen at a glance.

Fortunately, *Burning Fire* hadn't turned into one of those shoddy industrial films.

Wan Renhai arrived later.

Ever since Lu Yanhe decided to take on *Burning Fire*, he had chatted with Wan Renhai many times—they had met in private and chatted online, and they were already quite familiar with each other.

A director who had taken a name that felt somewhat "creepy" was actually a very amiable and funny person.

Regarding Lu Yanhe's look, Wan Renhai looked him up and down for a long time, raised questions about several areas, and had the styling team redo them for Lu Yanhe.

They were all very detailed points.

In *Burning Fire*, the character Li Wushang, played by Lu Yanhe, was like a character found in every epic or legendary story—a "growth-oriented" young character.

In many stories, such a character is often the first-person protagonist.

But in *Burning Fire*, the first-person protagonist was set as a man seeking revenge—the character played by Shang Yongzhou.

Yet Lu Yanhe's screen time was still significant. In *Burning Fire*, much like in *Road to Glory*, the two could almost be said to be the dual leads of the film.

Moreover, if *Road to Glory* had the two appearing in parallel on one main storyline, in *Burning Fire*, the first half was basically two separate storylines for them, sometimes intersecting, sometimes separating, with each carrying half the load.

However, because Lu Yanhe hadn't filmed a commercial blockbuster, and the box office performance of his previous starring film works had stabilized in the hundreds of millions, his salary was much lower than Shang Yongzhou's, and he didn't get a box office share. Shang Yongzhou did.

This was why Chen Ziyan had told Lu Yanhe at the time that he must film a commercial blockbuster.

As an actor, if you don't want to enter the top-tier salary club, you can certainly keep filming your own movies without considering your identity and image positioning in the market. Like Lu Yanhe, he could completely continue filming movies like *Late Spring* and *Road to Glory*, taking in hundreds of millions at the box office—relative to their production costs, that was a massive hit, a miracle, and the halo above Lu Yanhe's head would continue to shine.

But if Lu Yanhe wanted to enter the top-tier salary club, he had to have starring works with box office receipts over one billion, two billion, or even entering the top twenty in film history. Box office performance is always the greatest capital for an actor to negotiate salary, not industry shock and surprise, and not how many awards they have won.

The *Burning Fire* film project was one of the top projects in the country. Lu Yanhe choosing it actually had nothing to say—the director was good, the script was decent, the production company was spending real money to improve production quality, and there was Shang Yongzhou acting with him, so he didn't have to carry the box office pressure alone—

Even if such a blockbuster project failed, the finger wouldn't be pointed directly at him.

Although saying it like this isn't very kind or very impressive, reality is just like that.

Chen Ziyan also had to consider that if a blockbuster failed, for an actor, it wouldn't be fatal, but it definitely wouldn't be a small matter, even for an actor of Lu Yanhe's level. So, for Lu Yanhe's first time starring in such a blockbuster, the risk was too high; using Shang Yongzhou as the lead, if the film succeeded, with Lu Yanhe's character screen time and setup, he could reap huge benefits, and if it failed, he wouldn't be the first to take the blame.

If these twists and turns in her heart were truly spoken out, of course, it would make her seem less trusting of Lu Yanhe, and not so open and aboveboard, calculating benefits so clearly—in short, wanting the benefits but not wanting to carry the bad consequences—but in reality, when an agent takes a project for their artist, this is standard.

Shang Yongzhou himself took the lead role, and it wasn't that others tricked him or forced him to take it.

All actors who take the lead role must inevitably bear its responsibilities.

Chen Ziyan was just weighing the pros and cons.

"I was actually quite surprised that you were willing to come and act in *Burning Fire*."

In the evening, Wan Renhai was having dinner with Lu Yanhe, and that's what Wan Renhai said to him.

"I was worried before that you might look down on this kind of blockbuster," Wan Renhai laughed. "You've acted in so many art films before."

"That's because there hadn't been a blockbuster script as good as *Burning Fire* looking for me before," Lu Yanhe also offered a small commercial compliment. "I'm willing to act in any type of film, but sometimes the scripts sent over are really not good—the scripts are so perfunctory that even if you were to direct it, I would feel powerless to save it. I don't know why many commercial films that come looking for me have such scripts."

Wan Renhai smiled.

"Although everyone uses the word 'blockbuster' to describe *Burning Fire*, actually, there is a very important reason why I want to act in *Burning Fire*, Director. I have always been interested in these fantasy stories based on traditional Chinese culture. Just like Wu Xia works, it creates a world that might not exist in reality—I'm referring to things like light-body techniques and martial arts," Lu Yanhe laughed. "Creating such a world based on reality is like seeing something similar to the world's top ten unsolved mysteries when I was a child; there is a natural curiosity and yearning for a new world that cannot be found in the real world. Moreover, I have always felt that our domestic Chinese-language films have never had a representative fantasy film, so after seeing *Burning Fire*, I had a kind of excitement that I had been waiting for for a long time."

This was also truly a bit of exaggerated embellishment on his real feelings.

But the essence wasn't a lie; that was exactly how Lu Yanhe viewed *Burning Fire*.

If he didn't feel that this film could be shot well, he wouldn't have taken it.

Wan Renhai said: "This type of film, especially with the current production budget. In the past, the technology wasn't mature, and I felt it couldn't be shot. Now that the technology has finally matured and our domestic market has grown, it might be able to support such a large investment, so I dared to do it."

Even a director is afraid of failure.

Lu Yanhe laughed.

He could also understand Wan Renhai very well.

Only after truly being a director himself did he know how much pressure a director faces when a film fails.

Before, when he was an actor, he had never faced this matter so directly. And filming *Love Letter*, even with such a small investment, Lu Yanhe often had to face problems like needing to add budget for specific shots, or a scene not being shot smoothly, which could lead to problems with the schedule for the next few days. These were all specific problems; the most terrifying thing was the pressure of "what if the film flops and doesn't sell at the box office."

Losses were one thing—at the time, Lu Yanhe really thought that way: at worst, he would just lose his own money; at worst, he would pay out of his own pocket to pay back every friend who invested (such thoughts were also naive, but that's what he thought at the time to soothe his anxious state). Lu Yanhe was more afraid of something else: afraid of flopping and failing to live up to everyone's trust in him.

In this film, Chen Bige was the lead. If a starring film flops, it affects Chen Bige's reputation just the same. Not to mention, there were so many people who came to help. Things that can be calculated with money can be paid back even if you have to sell everything you own, but these favors, these people's trust in him, cannot be paid back.

*Love Letter* was already like this, not to mention Wan Renhai.

It really is that if it's shot well, everything is fine; if it flops, maybe for the next four or five years, no film company will dare to ask him to direct a film.

That is the level of severity.

Before Lu Yanhe joined the crew to film *Burning Fire*, Zhong Benshuo came to find Lu Yanhe in high spirits.

*Squid Game* had been a hit on Maxine for more than two months, and its popularity remained.

Maxine's stock price had also soared because of this.

The global popularity of *Squid Game* exceeded everyone's expectations for the show, including Zhong Benshuo's own.

Zhong Benshuo couldn't help but sigh in his heart at how prescient his emphasis on and befriending of Lu Yanhe had been. He had long forgotten that there were actually some unpleasant things between him and Lu Yanhe.

Zhong Benshuo came this time to inquire about the progress of the second season of *Squid Game*.

The overseas streaming rights for the first season of *Squid Game* were not authorized by Lu Yanhe; they were authorized by Arctic Light Video. The rights for the first season were not in Lu Yanhe's hands, but in Arctic Light's. However, according to information Zhong Benshuo knew, the rights for the second season of *Squid Game* would be shared by Lu Yanhe with Arctic Light Video, which meant that Lu Yanhe could also influence which streaming platform the second season was authorized to.

Zhong Benshuo was very clear about how good Lu Yanhe's relationship with HP was. Previously, the short film *Night Run* was snatched away by HP. Later, several of Lu Yanhe's films were also booked in advance by HP, having nothing to do with them at Maxine.

If a show like *Squid Game* had its second season snatched away by someone else in the end, Zhong Benshuo could just send his resignation to his boss's email.

Lu Yanhe quickly figured out Zhong Benshuo's intention.

Actually, Zhong Benshuo still didn't understand Lu Yanhe well enough. If he hadn't made things so messy with Maxine, on the premise of having already achieved the success of the first season, Lu Yanhe wouldn't rashly change platforms for the second season.

Changing platforms is equivalent to giving up the foundation of previous success. After all, although there are many people who have membership accounts for two platforms, there are also many people who only watch shows on one platform.

Just like after JK Luo Lin cooperated with Warner Bros. on the first *Harry Potter* film, there were certainly other companies holding high-value contracts wanting to poach the sequels—the development rights for *Harry Potter* sequels were always in JK Luo Lin's hands, not Warner Bros.'. However, in this situation, JK Luo Lin didn't choose to cooperate with another film company, but instead cooperated with Warner Bros. on eight films, not to mention creating another *Fantastic Beasts* series.

Why can many people with terrible relationships still continue to cooperate—because they have common interests.

The same is true between Lu Yanhe and Zhong Benshuo.

But Lu Yanhe didn't intend to let Zhong Benshuo rest easy so quickly.

He just hemmed and hawed, not letting go and saying that the second season would definitely be given to Maxine, only saying that the script hadn't been written yet and he hadn't considered this matter.

What Lu Yanhe didn't expect was that Zhong Benshuo offered a very exaggerated number.

"This isn't for *Squid Game*; it's for you, Lu Yanhe, alone," Zhong Benshuo said. "As long as you agree to give the subsequent broadcast rights of the *Squid Game* series to Maxine, Maxine will pay you 50 million US dollars in creative service fees."

50 million US dollars—that's about 300 million RMB.

Even Lu Yanhe was startled by this number.

Is this... the dizziness of being thrown money at?

"Yanhe, you have always known the sincerity of our Maxine wanting to cooperate with you," Zhong Benshuo said. "This creative service fee is actually not just paid to you to secure the subsequent broadcast rights of *Squid Game*; it is even more so how we want to express the importance we place on you. I still say the same thing: if you are willing to tailor a show for Maxine, you will receive treatment that is unique in this world, treatment that other places definitely cannot afford."

Lu Yanhe: "..."

He looked at Zhong Benshuo, hesitated for a long time, and really wanted to ask: is Maxine that rich?

Of course, Lu Yanhe knew that these streaming platforms gave money very exaggeratedly.

In the two worlds before and after his transmigration, streaming media seemed to play the role of "the wealthy local"—it's not that they are local, but that they give money as if money isn't money.

Amazon opened a three-year cooperation agreement with an annual salary of 20 million US dollars for Phoebe Waller-Bridge, the lead actress and screenwriter of *Fleabag*. The most exaggerated thing is that even though she didn't make any shows for Amazon during those three years, Amazon still renewed her contract.

Not to mention, the two *Knives Out* sequel films brought a salary of up to 100 million US dollars directly to "007" Daniel Craig.

Sometimes, Lu Yanhe had also thought about when he could sign such a contract.

Unexpectedly, without any warning, Zhong Benshuo came with such an agreement.

It was simply a contract to send money.

This 50 million US dollars didn't include the normal procurement costs for the *Squid Game* sequels; it was called a "creative service fee," which, to put it bluntly, was a check Maxine wrote to Lu Yanhe to express goodwill.

Lu Yanhe silently took a deep breath, not letting himself appear too "inexperienced," remaining calm, unmoved, and as steady as Mount Tai.

"Mr. Zhong, I admit that your and Maxine's attitude is indeed very sincere."

Lu Yanhe looked at Zhong Benshuo and said word by word: "But before formal preparations, we are in no hurry to decide who the *Squid Game* sequel will be given to."

Zhong Benshuo finally asked this question.

"Yanhe, what exactly do you want?" Zhong Benshuo said. "We cannot let *Squid Game* fall into the hands of others."

Lu Yanhe blinked, and no attitude or emotion could be seen on his face, only a socially polite smiling face: "Let me think about it carefully, and you continue to think about it carefully, too. We will talk about this problem later." ===== CHAPTER 499 =====