Chapter 111: Dumb and Clueless (Please Vote, Please Reward)

Liu Tianxian acted on impulse, not one for pretense, and dialed Fang Hong's phone directly.

"Hey, what are you up to?"

"I'm preparing to return to China. What about you?" Fang Hong asked in return.

They were on opposite sides of the day—Liu Tianxian's side was night, Fang Hong's was day.

"Me? I just got back from doing propaganda in South Korea, and I took on a ad for A Chinese Ghost Story game—I'm telling you, the makeup I wore was totally insane."

Liu Tianxian spoke about what she'd been doing lately.

Her tone wasn't as heavy as expected, as if the recent storm hadn't affected her at all.

She'd been criticized before—so what?

Fang Hong listened quietly, then said: "Send me all those photos. I want to take a look."

"You haven't seen enough of me in person yet? What's so interesting about photos?" Liu Tianxian said.

"I haven't seen enough. I'm your fan too—I need your pictures to satisfy my spiritual needs."

Fang Hong joked, feeling like he was driving.

But he was too subtle—Liu Tianxian didn't get it: "Don't give me that. I don't believe you're my fan."

A fan is someone who worships, is obsessed, easily gets swept up—but when it came to this man, his mind was almost always clear.

"Then what should I be to you?" Fang Hong asked with a smile.

Liu Tianxian genuinely thought it over, then paused before saying: "A girl friend. A male girl friend."

"That won't do," Fang Hong said. "Not what I'm aiming for."

This time Liu Tianxian understood. She said: "Then you should look at yourself—see if you've truly worked hard all these years."

"I've worked hard enough. The truth is I'm just bad at it. If you're bad, you practice more." Fang Hong self-criticized.

"Gigglegigglegiggle."

Liu Tianxian burst out laughing at him.

They chatted merrily on the phone, and Liu Tianxian suddenly felt much lighter, less burdened.

The public opinion no longer affected her much—only made her reflect on how truly inadequate her skills were.

Liu Tianxian began to speak from the heart: "Fang Hong, I feel my abilities are always insufficient. I want to do well, but I keep failing—I don't even know how to do it right."

She doubted herself. She was lost.

"No one's success comes overnight. Mine didn't either. You have to go through things to grow. Take your time—don't rush!"

Fang Hong knew she was struggling over A Chinese Ghost Story.

That movie really was terrible in every way.

"I understand what you mean," Liu Tianxian said gloomily. "But I've tried so hard—I still can't break through people's fixed image of me. I feel useless."

She wanted to shatter her own filter.

Fang Hong didn't know how to respond. He opposed her shattering the filter—it meant kissing scenes, nudity.

But he couldn't oppose her too strongly—it was her dream, what she'd been striving for.

"I've said it before: if you seriously study your role and have someone guide you, you won't be worse than anyone else—you can grow gradually. Past projects have already proven that." Fang Hong urged.

Liu Tianxian recalled: her last two films had received little criticism—but the entire team had served her.

The screenwriters served her. The crew served her. Fang Hong, as director, guided her throughout. That's why she performed well.

"Yes, you're right. I'm not worse than anyone."

Liu Tianxian took a breath, trying to adopt Fang Hong's self-confidence.

That night they talked a lot. Liu Tianxian wasn't troubled by it long—she felt pain when mentioning it, but the desire to break through, to shatter the filter, remained.

In a café, Fang Hong met someone named Yao Qi, a top-tier visual effects artist.

He worked and studied in Los Angeles and had previously created special effects for major films like 2012, The Matrix Reloaded, and Catwoman.

His experience was extremely rich—he could immediately lead a team.

They'd spoken indirectly a few times before; now Fang Hong was leaving soon, with no time left, and wanted to lure him back to China.

The server set down two cups of coffee. Fang Hong gestured for him to drink, then said: "Mr. Yao, where are you currently employed?"

"I'm in the Special Effects Management Department at Sony Graphics and Image Operations," Yao Qi said, sipping his coffee.

He was quite handsome, somewhat resembling Xia Yu.

"Mr. Yao, I'll be blunt," Fang Hong said straightaway, since he was about to return to China and had little time.

Yao Qi nodded, signaling him to continue.

"Come work for my company on special effects. I'll give you a million-yuan annual salary—this is the minimum. There'll be bonuses too, and more later depending on performance." Fang Hong was direct.

Yao Qi's eyes widened slightly—this surpassed what Sony paid. Sony's maximum annual salary was only 800,000 yuan.

That's a range of 600,000 to 800,000 yuan—RMB!

"I just don't know the scale of your company, Director Fang."

"It's a small company, still developing. The fact I can offer you this salary means I plan to grow big. Right now, you'll definitely have to work hard to lead the team." Fang Hong made his meaning clear.

He'd be the head of the special effects department.

Yao Qi lowered his head, thinking, then voiced his concern: "Honestly, Director Fang, China's current market doesn't yet support high-end special effects. If this isn't sustainable, I'd rather not go—I want stability."

He wanted to stay long-term in one place, with a steady job, not keep switching employers.

What if you quit after one or two years? Then you'd have to find another job again.

"Here's what I'll do."

Fang Hong thought for a moment: "If you come, I'll give you an extra one million yuan as a relocation allowance—this covers your risk cost."

"But I'm clear upfront: you'll only receive this money after you've been with my company for one year. So in total, after one year of salary, bonuses, and relocation allowance, you'll earn over two million."

He spoke with genuine sincerity. Yao Qi understood—he was being cautious. What if you joined for two days, collected the money, and ran?

"Alright, since General Manager Fang is so sincere, I won't be petty anymore. Once I've settled my affairs here, I'll come to China to find you." Yao Qi nodded without hesitation.

Two million yuan—that's several years' salary for him. The cost of this trial was sufficient.

Previously, I hesitated because I'd finally stabilized my position in Hollywood; returning to Neidi to waste a few years would greatly harm my career.

But as long as the money is enough, no problem is a problem—that's capital; it can directly shatter a person's resolve.

The two reached an agreement and shook hands.

The affairs in the United States are essentially finished; Yu Xian only needs to proceed methodically with filming The Purge.

He's already familiar with the procedures here; as long as he doesn't make major mistakes, it's fine. The film Annabelle will be released normally.

Fang Hong gave him $200,000 to rent a house and settle down here.

This trip to the United States, Fang Hong brought $7 million: $6.5 million for film production, another $200,000–$300,000 for food, lodging, lawyers, and all sorts of miscellaneous expenses.

And nearly $200,000 more—all of it went to him!

"Without you, I feel like I'm standing alone on a single log." Yu Xian felt lost.

If this were in Neidi, it'd be fine, but overseas, he truly didn't know anyone or anything—it all felt alien.

Fang Hong gripped his nape tightly, leaned close, and stared at him with sharp eyes: "From now on, you're the man in charge in the United States. Work hard and don't disappoint me."

Yu Xian looked into his eyes and felt infected by them—he nodded firmly.

"While you're here, I have a favor: keep an eye out for animators—animators with production capability—and collect their information for me," Fang Hong instructed.

The animators in Neidi aren't incapable, but I'm looking for animation creators who align with Western aesthetic sensibilities—to make animations for foreigners.

Animation makes the most money overseas, especially through merchandise. The domestic market for merchandise is utterly terrible—it's been terrible for years, with no future!

Yu Xian understood. He'd worked with Fang Hong for so long, coloring his drawings every day, and knew he had many sketches.

He'd once asked Fang Hong why he drew so many drawings, and Fang Hong said he planned to turn them into animations.

Back then, he thought it was unrealistic; now, it seemed to be unfolding step by step.

"Let's go!"

The two bumped fists—thus, all business in the United States was handed over to Yu Xian.

Don't be fooled by U. S. Jade Rabbit—it seems like nothing more than an empty shell, but all rights to films shot in the United States belong to this company.

The Conjuring Series, the Fifty Shades Series, The Purge Series, plus many other original copyrights—all have been transferred to this company.

In short, once U. S. Jade Rabbit breaks through, its potential for growth will be faster and more terrifying than Jade Rabbit in Neidi.

Because the market is huge, copyright is well-regulated, and distribution channels are limitless—something the domestic content market can't match.

But he only sees this place as a blood transfusion station—to support his industrial layout.

Without this blood transfusion station, the layout cannot be completed!

In early May, Fang Hong didn't return to Beijing—he flew directly to Hong Kong to film The Wandering Earth.

After spending two months in the United States, stepping back onto domestic soil and seeing nothing but East Asians and Chinese advertisements everywhere, he felt a sudden sense of familiarity.

Overseas, everyone on the street was either white or Black, and all signs and billboards were in English—it felt alien.

Since Fang Hong's films have never been released in Hong Kong, the locals don't know him.

Even if they had been released, they still wouldn't know him—fame comes from propaganda, not from one or two films.

Without propaganda, once the hype fades, people forget who you are—and films don't make stars.

Have Zheng Yijian cut his hair and walk down a street in Neidi—see how many people recognize him.

Beijing Meets Seattle has already finished shooting and entered post-production, so the team can be moved over to film The Wandering Earth.

The cinematographer, art director, and other behind-the-scenes staff are exhausted—they finish work over there and immediately start again here.

However, Jade Rabbit plans to expand its production team—to ensure multiple films can be shot simultaneously.

Also, cultivate a high-quality, scalable team capable of producing big-budget films!

Constantly making low-budget films isn't right; you must make well-produced films to avoid being controlled by others.

But making well-produced films requires not only talent but also equipment. Once Annabelle is released and funds are available, a batch of professional filming equipment will be ordered from the United States.

"Hey!"

Liu Tianxian threw her arms around Fang Hong's neck like a brother—completely unreserved.

She was the female lead in The Wandering Earth and was already in Neidi, so she arrived in Hong Kong ahead of time to pick him up.

A Chinese Ghost Story has been in theaters for over half a month—her propaganda duties are complete.

As for box office performance? It has nothing to do with her!

Hong Kong International Airport is on Lantau Island—an isolated place. The two had already left the terminal and were walking along the deserted airport road.

Fang Hong turned to look at Liu Tianxian's face—her Skin was smooth, she wore large sunglasses, and her long hair fluttered beautifully.

Because they were so close, he could clearly see the peeling skin on her lips!

Fang Hong's face was cold: "Why so affectionate? Do I know you that well?"

"Are you looking for a beating?" Liu Tianxian's smile vanished instantly.

"I was just joking—don't take it so seriously."

Fang Hong smiled ingratiatingly.

Liu Tianxian rolled her eyes—wasn't she uncomfortable unless she scolded him?

"Hey, your lips are peeling—I'll peel them off for you." Fang Hong looked closely and raised his hand.

"No, I'll do it myself!"

Liu Tianxian slapped his hand away and peeled it herself.

"Peeling them like that won't work—you need a boyfriend to moisturize them," Fang Hong said seriously.

"Who? You?" Liu Tianxian looked at him.

Since she was wearing sunglasses, Fang Hong couldn't see her expression: "Sure—I can reluctantly take on that role."

"Alright, come here for a little moisture." Liu Tianxian pouted her lips.

Being so open about it actually made Fang Hong uncomfortable.

Still, on the principle that a free lick is a lick not wasted, he was about to lean in for the kiss.

"Slap!"

Just as the two were about to close the distance, Liu Tianxian swung a slap across his face: "In your dreams."

The slap wasn't heavy — it was more like a little push.

"I knew you didn't have such kind intentions. See, our feelings really have faded." Fang Hong was deeply disappointed, and deeply hurt.

Liu Tianxian found his expression funny. She leaned in and planted a loud "smack" on his cheek: "Faded or not?"

Fang Hong was utterly astonished. He touched the spot that had just been kissed, never having expected Liu Tianxian to be so forward.

But he quickly caught himself: "Faded. Give me another one — a moist one."

"Then you pucker up!" Liu Tianxian said.

Fang Hong puckered his lips high in the air, waiting to be moistened.

Liu Tianxian reached out and pecked his lips with her finger: "You silly fool — I tell you to pucker and you just pucker?"

Sometimes this man of hers could be rather cute.

"I puckered up and all you gave me was that?" Fang Hong was not pleased.

(End of Chapter)