Chapter 110: Crush You to Death (Requesting Votes and Rewards)

Negotiations continued; the other party demanded shared copyright, but Fang Hong naturally refused, agreeing only to grant them distribution rights, while reducing the distribution share appropriately.

There was reason behind this: after two days of negotiations, progress finally emerged—it was the same as their parent company Warner's situation.

The film The Conjuring was produced by Yutu Investment; after production, Yutu retained only 25%, while the remaining 75% was fully controlled by New Line Cinema.

All distribution channels—including theaters, pay-TV, online platforms, and DVD—were licensed to them.

This eliminated New Line Cinema's hesitation; such a large slice of the pie given to them, what was there left to argue about?

Even if they produced it themselves, they'd still need to invest, and after deducting production costs, their share would be roughly the same.

This is the advantage of foresight—they didn't know how much box office The Conjuring would earn, or whether it would be a hit worthy of sequels.

As long as copyright ownership remained with Yutu, whether to seek them for distribution of the second film would depend on mood.

In Hollywood, only films that are huge hits and profitable qualify for sequels; if they don't make money—even if they make a little—no matter how good the film is, you must think twice before making a sequel.

The most typical example is Edge of Tomorrow: originally planned for a sequel, but due to lack of profitability, the second film remained stuck in development hell for over a decade.

Film production here is entirely profit-driven.

This negotiation didn't touch on future sequels because New Line Cinema didn't know whether a sequel would even be made.

They didn't know how much money it would make—whether it was enough to qualify for a sequel!

As long as they agreed to Fang Hong's proposal, the matter was essentially settled: copyright belonged to Yutu, with no dispute left.

After negotiations ended, they returned to the same suite bedroom; Liu Tianxian dragged her luggage and prepared to leave.

Fang Hong grabbed her hand and tentatively asked, "Stay another two days?"

"Two days after two more days—that's four days already, Boss. A Chinese Ghost Story releases on the 19th; we have less than six days left," Liu Tianxian said.

They were pressuring her relentlessly; if it weren't for this man, she'd have returned long ago.

Fang Hong nodded, waved his hand, and remained silent.

He wouldn't stop her; she truly had matters to attend to.

Liu Tianxian dragged her luggage two steps, then set it down, turned back, and stared at him.

"What's wrong?" Fang Hong was baffled by her gaze.

Liu Tianxian said nothing, shoved him hard onto the bed, and pressed her body down on top of him.

Fang Hong was stunned; his hands instinctively wrapped around her waist, their bodies pressed close, a fragrant scent filling his senses.

"Sister, you're crushing me."

"I'm going to crush you. Crush you to death."

Liu Tianxian stared at the man so close before her.

This man was too capable—he stirred her heart, made her feel she couldn't fully control him, so she had to seize the initiative this way.

"If you're going to say that, then I won't be polite either," Fang Hong said, moving to kiss her.

Liu Tianxian grabbed his throat and forced his raised head down.

"What exactly are you doing?" Fang Hong didn't understand.

She was in this position and still wouldn't let him kiss—couldn't they just have sex?

"I said I'm going to crush you," Liu Tianxian said, expressionless.

"I'm not someone anyone can crush. Crushing me comes at a price," Fang Hong said.

"What price?" Liu Tianxian asked.

"Slap!"

Fang Hong raised his hand and struck her buttocks hard.

Her hips swayed, firm and rounded.

"You!"

Liu Tianxian's eyes sharpened—clearly hurt, she raised her fist in fury to strike back.

Fang Hong swiftly flipped her over; her punch missed, and he sprang up and ran off, leaving only his voice behind.

"Feifei, along the way!"

"."

Liu Tianxian watched the man's retreating back, touched her buttock, and muttered, "Coward!"

She didn't dislike Fang Hong's actions; instead, she was relieved he dared to be bold only to flee immediately—clearly unsure whether she'd turn violent.

She also didn't mind how he addressed her; once the relationship reached this point, she let him call her whatever he liked.

This time, Liu Tianxian was flying back, estimated to take about twelve hours—roughly one night.

After she left, Fang Hong and Yu Xian worked nonstop until late April to finish post-production on Annabelle, delivered it to Warner, and introduced Yu Xian to Warner—henceforth, he would handle all future communications.

Annabelle's production took nearly two months—so fast because this side's film industry was highly developed.

It wasn't some effects-heavy blockbuster; it truly didn't need that long.

Don't think this is exaggerated: The Blair Witch Project took eight days; Saw took eighteen—both under formal production constraints, and still faster than Hong Kong's golden era.

Warner scheduled Annabelle for release on May 27, meaning it would skip past the May Day holiday.

Although the distribution share was high, this film wasn't worthy of such a prime slot—but it wasn't bad either; the date happened to be a weekend.

Next, Fang Hong and Yu Xian began preparing their next film: The Purge!

This movie still used the pre-drawn storyboards; just shoot according to them—the plot was simple.

In the future year of 2029, the United States decreed:

From 7 p. m. on March 21st to 7 a. m. on March 22nd, a 12-hour window during which all crimes—including murder—were legal.

At that time, people would take to the streets and engage in unrestricted violence and killing without any legal consequences.

Filling out the plot with content was straightforward.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

It's all bloodshed and thrills, no logic whatsoever!

This film had a $3 million budget and could shoot directly—the pre-production team was already lined up, and the funding came from Hong Kong.

The financing was so easy because *A Chinese Ghost Story* had already premiered on April 26.

Chen Zhixi handled the propaganda for the first time, and the opening day box office broke 32 million, surpassing the opening day of *Let the Bullets Fly*!

It could be called a tremendous success!

Her propaganda angle was tapping into the nostalgia of those born in the 70s and 80s, sparking an online frenzy of reminiscing about youth.

Online discussions about *A Chinese Ghost Story* exploded—Weibo had over 13 million reposts; QQ Space had over 90 million topic discussions.

"I don't know whose youth this movie is honoring, but it's definitely not mine!"

"Is it only this outrageous plot that can draw attention?"

"Feels pretty good to watch, and very realistic!" "Too heartbreaking—I cried watching it!"

"Whose youth isn't confused?"

"."

Public opinion was polarized—audiences just wanted something novel, hoping to reminisce about their own youth, only to find the plot full of clichés: abortions, going abroad, or getting hit by cars!

Even so, viewers couldn't resist getting curious, watched it, then couldn't help but criticize—yet kept watching while criticizing.

Just because no one had ever seen a youth film like this before; the only one was *Those Years*, a light, fresh movie with no abortions, no clichés, no thrills!

One film critic sighed: "*A Chinese Ghost Story* maintains a rare youthful atmosphere—it's the director's poetic tribute to his own youth, beautiful, cruel, and real. The film captures the era's ambiance perfectly; in the past decade, *A Chinese Ghost Story* is the most qualified youth film I've ever seen."

Anyway, no one knew who Chen Zhixi had found to support her—even she herself jumped in to say: "Youth is inherently real and cruel!"

Even news websites published articles: "Why is *A Chinese Ghost Story* so popular? The film strikes a chord with everyone's nostalgia."

As long as you find the right positioning, identify your target audience, and hire experts to whitewash it, in this era, you won't fail to ignite a topic frenzy.

Chen Zhixi played it even smoother and more skillfully than Fang Hong.

After all, she came with Fang Hong, understood all the operations, she just hadn't had any direction before.

But after hearing his idea that "propaganda is fraud," it was like opening her meridians!

Chen Zhixi was always smart; she just lacked experience and operational know-how.

Amid this hype, the second-day box office dropped to 27.24 million, then surged again to 39.45 million on the third day—truly thrilling.

The three-day total box office reached 98.72 million, just a hair short of 100 million—but hitting 100 million was now certain.

This performance crushed competing co-productions and Hollywood films like *Guan Yunchang*, *A Chinese Ghost Story*, and *B+ Detective*!

This gave domestic filmmakers hope: without relying on Hong Kong or Taiwan, or co-productions, local production could still achieve great success.

Without relying on established powers like Huayi or Bona, the Young and Vigorous Faction could also claim its place!

In recent years, co-productions and Beijing circles dominated the film market—but Yutu Film Industry's Principal proved with three consecutive films that the local Young and Vigorous Faction could also hold its ground in China's film industry.

They didn't follow seniority; they had their own talent!

Media began to praise: a new force was rising!

Of course, this was a form of praise meant to destroy—Yutu stayed silent; Fang Hong was clear-eyed: a few low-budget youth films couldn't break the existing power structure.

To break it, you must launch an assault on higher-level production—only by making more polished films can you truly shatter the power structure.

Low-budget youth films won't last long—they're just cheating!

Just look at what others are making now: *Dragon Gate*, *The Flowers of War*, *Painted Skin*.

They can't make films like those—that's the gap!

Recently, *A Chinese Ghost Story* became wildly popular; Zuoshandiao noticed and told Manager Lei: "You might actually cultivate the Young and Vigorous Faction—good thing. The film market needs local Young and Vigorous Faction members to carry part of the load; those people from Hong Kong and Taiwan are too disappointing."

Those people are not only arrogant but insatiable—it's no secret; the film industry has suffered greatly from them, but there's nothing we can do—they still hold the advantage in production technology.

Otherwise, when mainland production technology rose, they wouldn't have been pushed out—they were just so unreasonable!

"I didn't even plan this—it's still uncertain whether it'll work. They're still under blacklisting," Manager Lei chuckled.

"I think this isn't a bad thing—it could even pressure the Principal to cultivate new talent."

Zuoshandiao had also heard about it: "Where's the Principal? He seems to have vanished—no one's seen him!"

"I heard he went to the United States," Manager Lei said.

"Why leave the mainland and go to the United States?" Zuoshandiao wondered.

"I heard Liu Tianxian was there too—she just came back recently. I'm not entirely sure," Manager Lei said.

These big shots really have good connections.

"Looks like he's still a romantic."

Zuoshandiao's remark made Manager Lei smile.

"We don't need to care about those personal grudges—Yutu just releases films according to the rules!" Zuoshandiao instructed.

Yu Xian in the United States was also following the situation in the mainland.

After all, it was his first time directing a film—he was naturally anxious about the box office.

Seeing such great results, he was ecstatic and demanded Fang Hong give him a share of the profits—he wanted to hire two blonde girls for a night!

"What a shameless bastard—even foreign women won't be spared."

Fang Hong said this to him, of course, jokingly.

A single guy—besides brothels and prostitution, what other way is there to relieve loneliness? It's normal.

Wealthy people all do patronage!

When *A Chinese Ghost Story* premiered, Huayi wanted to strike back but didn't know how—criticizing it was pointless!

Because the film was already being roasted by audiences—and the more it was roasted, the more popular it became.

The personal attacks were all against unknown minor actors; the Principal hadn't signed them, so it didn't feel worth it—better to wait for another chance and first take out anger on Liu Tianxian.

Recently, besides doing propaganda, Liu Tianxian had been busy with various appearances—she had also noticed the rampant public opinion.

You can't ignore it—the controversy is too big; even if you don't look, every time you step out, hosts and reporters will ask, after all, she has a movie out right now!

And it's not even a collaboration with the Principal—it's competition!

To be honest, she now understands why that man stopped her from acting in Love Story back then.

It's too melodramatic—nothing but criticism.

This was clearly protection for her, wanting to keep her away from the mess—it made her feel comforted, loved.

But her A Chinese Ghost Story was even worse!

Even when Love Story was criticized, its box office was strong, and no one blamed the actors—only the movie's melodramatic, trashy plot!

Her A Chinese Ghost Story was criticized from every angle—plot, film, director, actors, costume and makeup—all seen as worthless by audiences.

"Why force a pure Love Story into a melodramatic love triangle?"

"Brother doesn't need you to memorialize him like this!"

Even actors like Heigu and Yu Shaoqun were criticized, but Hui Yinghong fared better and received praise!

But the criticism against Liu Tianxian was even harsher:

"She's a hundred thousand miles away from Wang Zuxian—she can't even do a single somersault to reach her."

"Nearly ten years have passed, and she's still as wooden as a statue, yet still with skin like jade and body like a startled swan, tall and elegant."

Just praising her beauty—but her acting hasn't improved at all!

"The Principal's films are still good; once she works with Hong Kong, it immediately falls apart."

"Did she get dumped by the Principal for being disobedient?"

"Looks like Tianxian is still just Tianxian—still hasn't broken through herself."

"I won't watch anything with Liu Tianxian in it anymore."

This cut too deep—her previously built image as Shen Jiayi and Huang Xiaoxian was destroyed overnight, her commercial value plummeted again!

No choice—it was her own decision.

Although Liu Tianxian's spirit was elevated after her trip, her professionalism was questioned, and she still felt inner bitterness, a sour taste in her heart.

After all, no one is a saint who can remain emotionless.

If only that man were by her side—she could confide in him, as if she'd grown used to his presence.

She realized how long it had been since they last spoke on the phone!

(End of chapter)