Chapter 119

The total box office for "To Our Youth" has been released, at 406 million yuan.

After deducting all splits and taxes, Yutu has roughly one hundred million yuan in profit, which will be used to develop Yutu's domestic affairs.

That means using domestic money to support personnel, recruiting professional talent, and expanding teams in production, screenwriting, gaming, and special effects.

Foreign money will be used to purchase equipment and machinery, maximizing capital utilization.

In the office, Chen Zhixi sighed: "I never thought you had this kind of skill—blood transfusion from the United States, really impressive."

She gave Fang Hong a thumbs-up across from her.

She had previously opposed Fang Hong's trip to the United States, but she hadn't expected that he had already secured massive overseas funding within just a few months.

She had also watched that movie—a horror film—and couldn't believe this man actually thought to shoot such a film for foreigners.

Could an ordinary person think of that? Ordinary people go abroad to win awards, then come back to show off.

"So stop doubting me—every step I take is carefully considered and rigorously planned," Fang Hong said coolly.

Previously, "The Genius Minors" had been delayed again and again.

"Yes yes yes, it's my fault."

Chen Zhixi raised her hands in surrender, yet her face wore a beaming smile.

This sum is an absolute timely rain for Yutu right now—it will significantly boost Yutu's strength.

"Has 'Beijing Meets Seattle' been scheduled yet?" Fang Hong asked.

"It's set. This month 'The Founding of a Party' is releasing; we're avoiding it and moved our date to July 5 for the summer slot, competing with 'Martial Arts,' 'Island of Fear,' and 'God of Fortune Inn,'" Chen Zhixi said.

Another Hong Kong co-production—this era really has a lot of Hong Kong co-productions.

Most are male Hong Kong stars paired with female Neidi actresses, which helps pass censorship.

"The Founding of a Party" must be avoided—competing with a tribute film for attention, what's your intention?

This film also involves Huayi, so it's extremely well-connected; Fang Hong could only temporarily let them go and save the next showdown for later.

If it weren't a tribute film, Fang Hong would have definitely clashed with them.

No other reason—he's got money, he can afford to lose tens of millions!

"Alright, sign long-term contracts with several propaganda companies, and we also need to build our own PR team," Fang Hong said.

This is for future insults—anyone who insults him, he'll insult back.

"This will cost money," Chen Zhixi said.

"Don't talk to me about money—how much does it take to build a PR team? Is one hundred million enough?" Fang Hong asked domineeringly.

Holy shit, that's so bold?

One hundred million is more than enough—even ten million would suffice, depending on how you do it.

As long as you don't insult people, just responding in kind won't cost much; if you go full-on insulting, it becomes a bottomless pit.

"Also, we can't keep making low-budget films—we need to try making big-budget films with some special effects," Fang Hong instructed.

"I agree," Chen Zhixi said, no longer opposing—simply because they now had money.

This is both to train the team, improve technology, and break through the blockade.

Since professional talent won't come to us, we'll train our own.

In this industry, behind-the-scenes teams are all based on seniority; every major director and film company has their fixed crew.

These people won't come to work for Yutu—no other reason: the food here is good, but you can't eat at multiple tables.

Speaking of special effects, Fang Hong remembered someone: "Has anyone named Yao Qi come by?"

Previously, this man contacted him, and he told the man to come to Beijing.

"Yes, he said you weren't here, and to contact him when you return," Chen Zhixi said, then asked curiously: "Who is this guy?"

"I recruited him from Hollywood as a special effects artist—he'll manage our special effects department," Fang Hong said.

"You even poached someone from Hollywood!" Chen Zhixi was surprised; she thought domestic talent was enough.

There isn't much need for special effects.

"Of course we need to poach from Hollywood—he has rich experience; have you seen '2012'? He was involved in its production."

Fang Hong was about to scold her again: "Think long-term—don't cling stubbornly to existing successful models."

Low-budget youth films will eventually become outdated!

Judging from Chen Zhixi's past record, she rarely produced special effects films—mostly genre films.

But she turned promotional strategies into an art!

Of course, this doesn't deny her talent—she simply adapted to China's film market environment.

But Fang Hong certainly can't follow her path—Yutu must move toward industrialization, toward a large-scale content system, which brings greater value and broader vision.

"Alright, you're right about everything."

Chen Zhixi fell silent and would follow his lead.

"But we still need to keep milking," Fang Hong added.

Chen Zhixi couldn't help laughing at him: "You're really trying to have it all."

That means continuing to make those trend-chasing youth films and low-budget films unchanged.

This genre can still be exploited for another one or two years!

"Walk multiple paths—if we don't move, someone else will move for us!"

Fang Hong then asked: "How's it going with buying those novel copyrights I asked you to?"

He had instructed her before leaving for the United States.

Novel copyrights aren't expensive now, but with "Zhen Huan Zhuan" and "Step by Step" set to explode in popularity by year-end, their prices are rising rapidly.

So to save money, we must seize the initiative.

Television dramas are bound to develop—if we don't develop TV dramas, we can't develop talent agency business, and TV dramas are still best adapted from novels.

Movies don't elevate people; TV dramas do.

"I bought some—'Nirvana in Fire,' 'Ghost Blows Out the Light,' 'The Grave Robbers' Chronicles,' and others. Earlier, funds were tight, but later it got better," said Chen Zhixi.

These novels weren't expensive; I bought them all for a total of 7 million, and 'Nirvana in Fire' was only 350,000!

'The Grave Robbers' Chronicles' was pricier—at 5 million!

'Ghost Blows Out the Light' was a resale; the previous owner bought it for 100,000, but Yutu paid ten times that price after several rounds of negotiation.

"Fine. Keep acquiring novel copyrights on the market. Within a year, you must spend 300 to 500 million buying up every novel copyright with even a shred of value," Fang Hong said with lavish confidence.

"What? Are you crazy?" Chen Zhixi widened her eyes.

300 to 500 million—that's more than Yutu's entire company has ever earned.

That much money is equivalent to sweeping up every notable novel copyright on the market.

Nowadays, a popular novel's copyright is only 300,000 to 500,000—hardly expensive at all. 300 to 500 million could buy a thousand novel copyrights, emptying the entire market.

The PR team didn't object before, because that was genuinely necessary. But this is going too far—spending less would be better.

"You'll cause market chaos and inflate prices," she said.

"I don't care. If you can't spend 30 million a month, that's your failure. I'm idle now—I'm watching you spend money," Fang Hong pointed out.

The United States market has already broken open; 'Annabelle''s box office won't be lower than 200 million dollars!

That's just box office. There's also royalty sharing.

And this is only one movie. Later, there's 'The Purge,' 'The Conjuring,' 'Fifty Shades of Grey'—all are entire franchises, all are IPs.

That means he'll have a constant stream of funding coming in.

"Director Fang, don't you know how disgusting you look? Like a vile capitalist."

Chen Zhixi was numb. She'd never seen anyone force someone to spend money like this.

Where could she find enough novel copyrights to buy? She'd have to sweep up trash—probably end up with a pile of worthless junk that couldn't be adapted.

"Enough talk. I just want to see you spend money."

What she didn't know was that this was Fang Hong's "Generational Erasure Plan."

He intended to copy every future hit TV drama and movie, buying up every novel copyright.

Whether to adapt them or not depended on his mood—he just wanted to hold them, narrowing others' paths until they had nowhere left to go.

It was a bit inhumane, but there was no help for it—the entertainment industry was this cruel.

Fang Hong added: "If you think there's too much money, buy the expensive ones instead—like 'The Story of the Rose' or 'The Three-Body Problem.' Just buy them all. How simple!"

He made it sound simple. Even if 'The Three-Body Problem' had changed hands twice, its full copyright fee was only 120 million back in 2018—and that price was already inflated. Now, the market hadn't taken off, so it wasn't worth that much.

But even with money, it was hard to buy—current copyright holders seemed to have endless demands. It could be a slow grind!

"'The Three-Body Problem'?" Chen Zhixi frowned.

She'd heard of 'The Story of the Rose'—it had already existed.

But 'The Three-Body Problem' was clearly something she didn't know about yet; the novel only became a hit after winning its award in 2015.

Its influence was still minor now.

"Don't ask questions. Just buy. Spend all the money. Spend it early and you'll be praised. If you really can't spend it all, go abroad and buy—but only novel copyrights. Nothing else," Fang Hong said.

"I'm curious—what's driving you to be so reckless?" Chen Zhixi was speechless. With a little money, he'd gotten carried away.

"A woman. A disobedient woman," Fang Hong said.

(End of Chapter)