Chapter 118: Gun for a Cannon (Bonus Update—Thank You to Our Patrons, Requesting Monthly Votes and Rewards)

The film "Genius Cheater" is still being shot! Since there's little left to film, the crew is working overtime; they all know they've angered someone.

Otherwise, how could petty hooligans still be causing trouble and demanding protection money in this era?

This scene is the fourth exam—the final SAT, the United States college entrance exam.

This cheating sequence is the longest; Li Xuejian joins in, with the male and female leads cooperating, but later Li Xuejian is caught, leaving Liu Tianxian to complete the entire cheating operation alone.

As for why Li Xuejian joined, besides being poor, Liu Tianxian also delivered a crushing blow to him.

"Even if you're honest, life still deceives you."

Li Xuejian's character was originally an upright man who had exposed Liu Tianxian's cheating scheme.

But later he took the blame himself, was retaliated against by the rich second-generation heir, and suffered terribly—so he turned dark: if being good gets you bullied, then be bad.

It's a bit morally twisted, but that's reality! This entire cheating operation is directed by Liu Tianxian, including the scripted testimony after capture, ensuring consistency.

For this, they rehearsed extensively.

You could say, a genius is a genius, a prodigy is a prodigy—every detail is planned! Fang Hong told Liu Tianxian not to act, just let her natural aura shine—that's why.

You can't act like a genius; you don't even know what a genius is like—you can only become one, and let your aura explode.

This cheating exam is complicated because Australia takes the test four hours earlier than Asia.

That means the same test paper is administered in Australia first due to time zone differences, then four hours later in Asia.

So Liu Tianxian and Li Xuejian must go to Australia to take the exam, memorize all the answers, and transmit them back to Asia to complete the mission.

The SAT has three sections; they must memorize the answers for each, but the process won't be simple—there will surely be many unexpected setbacks.

For instance, in the final exam, Li Xuejian is caught, and Liu Tianxian must complete the test alone while still sending out the answers.

How do you send them out?

Only by self-harming—since examinees aren't allowed to leave the exam hall, they must injure themselves to exit, then use their phone to transmit the answers.

"Gag gag gag!"

On set, Liu Tianxian uses her fingers to dig at her throat, vomiting painfully everything she'd eaten.

Fang Hong watches, feeling deeply sorry—this is her eighth time digging at her throat; previously she felt nauseated but couldn't vomit anything, and this time she ate more and finally spat out something.

Vomiting creates visual impact, making the audience feel how hard this character's struggle is, deepening sympathy.

But even though Liu Tianxian was suffering, Fang Hong didn't call cut—he had extras come in to act.

After filming ended, he rushed forward and handed her a bottle of water.

Liu Tianxian lowered her head, patting her chest; seeing the water in front of her, she looked up at the man.

Fang Hong said nothing, pushed the bottle forward again.

"Thank you!" Liu Tianxian took it.

After she drank some water, Fang Hong handed her a tissue.

Liu Tianxian took it, wiped her mouth, and felt much better.

Throughout, Fang Hong said nothing; seeing she was fine, he returned to work.

Under this atmosphere, "Genius Cheater" progressed rapidly, with only a few final scenes left.

Once these are shot, the film is essentially finished.

What's being filmed now is Liu Tianxian dodging invigilators while using her phone to transmit answers back to Asia.

This segment has no dialogue—it's all about suspense and thrill, like watching Mission Impossible.

This film has two endings: one ends with the male lead inviting the female lead to continue cheating for profit, cutting off here.

That's an open ending, leaving viewers to guess! The other ending has the female lead turning herself in, embodying righteousness and virtue—this is purely for censorship approval.

Audiences overwhelmingly prefer the first ending; the second feels ridiculous.

For censorship, they submit the first ending first; if it fails, they use the second.

"Genius Cheater" finished shooting by early June; after completion, crew members gradually headed north.

Only Lu Dabo remained behind, waiting for an opportunity—mainly because none came.

Online and in newspapers, everyone talks about Fa Ge's down-to-earth, humble nature, how he buys groceries and takes the bus—yet he's been lurking for days and hasn't seen Fa Ge once buying groceries or riding the bus.

Instead, he's seen arriving and leaving in luxury cars with personal maids, extravagantly lavish!

He thought: how could anyone earn money and not enjoy it? Absolute nonsense—anti-human nature!

All these celebrity personas are lies, especially Hong Kong stars—constantly marketing themselves as humble, charitable, morally superior—all nonsense.

Humility either means poverty or is a carefully crafted marketing facade.

Hong Kong stars are masters of packaging, all uniformly crafting the same persona: humble, modest, approachable—and always contrasting themselves with Neidi stars.

Honestly, stars of the same age group from Neidi are far superior in character.

Li Xuejian, Chen Baoguo, Wang Zhiwen, Li Youbin, Li Baotian—who isn't more down-to-earth and better at handling people? Always dragging up young idols—what a sick obsession! Lu Dabo grumbled inwardly, but still had to complete the Principal's assigned task.

Fang Hong originally wanted to talk to Liu Tianxian, gauge her attitude—but she walked off without a word, so he let it go.

He was disappointed—why wouldn't she listen? Would he really harm her? Liu Tianxian had gone to Dunhuang to film "The Legend of Hongmen Banquet."

Recently, there's been a fascinating online feud: Huosiyen and Huang Yi are trading insults on Weibo.

The scene? Extremely intense, drawing massive crowds of Wangyi to watch.

The trigger? A man. According to insiders, Huang Yi constantly told others at events that Huosiyen was a mistress.

Naturally, this reached Huosiyen's ears; she wasn't one to back down, and publicly called Huang Yi a "bitter-woman actress" on Weibo. Huang Yi's side naturally fired back, threatening to sue.

The two sides exchanged furious insults, and the Wangyi, ever eager for drama and fueling the fire, swarmed both sides, creating a chaotic spectacle.

Not only were these two feuding, Jiang Kun was also cursing Lao Guo: "Morally corrupt."

Lao Guo retorted: "A eunuch visiting a brothel."

Cultural figures' insults are more nuanced, less direct than the two actresses'—most people can't understand them.

"Annabelle" held a one-week limited screening before May 27, and the response was excellent.

On May 27, it opened nationwide in 3,185 theaters in North America and simultaneously in 53 countries worldwide.

At its debut, due to the weekend, it earned $37.2 million in North America, with an average of over $11,600 per theater.

It ranked second on the North American box office chart, behind The Hangover Part II.

Only a distributor like Warner could coordinate over three thousand theaters in North America and launch simultaneously in 53 countries globally.

A typical small distributor would need at least a month of test screenings to confirm no issues before coordinating so many theaters.

No one else wants the 9-to-1 revenue split model; without absolute confidence, no one with weak strength dares to gamble, right?

That's why test screenings gauge audience reactions—the longer the test period, the clearer the market potential; if no issues arise, sign theater contracts immediately to profit!

If problems arise, coordinate fewer theaters and make them share some responsibility to reduce risk.

Annabelle's opening week reception was excellent; outside North America, its strongest markets were Mexico and Brazil.

Mexico had a dream opening, contributing $11.7 million in its first week, setting a new historical record for horror film openings in the country.

With Mexico as a model, Brazil and all of South America also contributed $20 million in box office revenue during the first week.

These two regions have a special fondness for horror films and are major box office powerhouses for the genre.

Other regions—including France, the United Kingdom, South Korea, Malaysia, and Australia—also performed very well.

However, outside Western countries, copyright enforcement in other nations is weak, meaning Mexico and South American box office figures will soon plummet due to piracy, including Southeast Asia.

Copyright management in these places is even worse than ours.

But it won't happen that fast—it's a process.

The current $80 million in box office equals 560 million RMB.

At a 25% share, that's $20 million, roughly 140 million RMB.

But Warner takes a larger share; right after launch, during the peak split period, it's likely around 65%, or about $52 million.

They handled the propaganda, spent heavily, and provided the distribution channels—Fang Hong doesn't have to worry about anything; it's only fair they earn so much.

In the United States, box office settlements are weekly, so after one week, the money will be gradually deposited into Yutu Film Industry's U. S. account.

There's no such thing as delayed or unpaid payments—you're not worth it if they break their rules for you.

If you don't follow the rules, who would dare distribute for you? There are plenty of competitors—it's not monopolized by anyone.

Yu Xian was overjoyed; he never expected a horror film could actually succeed. This instantly boosted his confidence, and he worked even harder.

The Purge has entered its final stage; this film is also very straightforward.

Fang Hong gave him $1 million to fulfill his promise, telling him to unlock the audio track of England's Rose.

This money served as his fee, since no contract was signed and no share was specified—only a verbal promise was made.

It's a makeshift crew—this is how it goes.

But Yu Xian was very satisfied; $1 million was a fortune to him, enough to enjoy himself freely in the United States. If not enough, another $1 million would be paid after the film's run ended.

The U. S. money was not repatriated but spent overseas; Yutu Film Industry began upgrading from a shotgun to a cannon.

As the saying goes: "Playing with photography ruins three generations"—professional film cameras cost hundreds of thousands, millions, or even tens of millions per set.

He spent $10 million to order a batch of top-tier film production equipment from the United States, Japan, and Germany.

Of course, it was delivered in batches; such a massive investment couldn't be fulfilled immediately—many professional devices were ordered first and then manufactured.

That meant buying and manufacturing simultaneously, with no returns allowed.

Because the equipment was so expensive, what if you didn't want it after production? Good things always work this way.

With this equipment, Yutu no longer needed to rent gear from other studios—it could use its own, which was also highly advanced.

These devices could elevate Yutu's entire production capability by one or two tiers.

But even the best equipment needs skilled operators; Fang Hong invited experts from major manufacturers to China to provide systematic training for Yutu's behind-the-scenes staff.

Of course, they were selective—not everyone had the chance; only 30 people were chosen for a one-month training program.

Wang Ran, Liu Yin, Li Anran, and others were all included in the training.

The training covered five major categories: photography systems, audio systems, lighting systems, studio systems, and auxiliary equipment.

These topics could only be learned from school textbooks—there was no real hands-on practice before.

Some things weren't even covered in textbooks! This was Yutu's first-of-its-kind training model, designed to rapidly grow its core team.

The entire one-month training was free for participants, with salaries paid as usual and all expenses covered by Yutu—truly generous!

No domestic film company dared to play like this—spending $10 million just to buy equipment and bring in experts for training.

Domestic film companies prefer to use ready-made resources—whether talent or equipment, they always rent what's available.

That is, rent once per film, discard when not shooting; buying equipment requires maintenance, and if unused, it's wasted.

(End of chapter)