Chapter 205: So Stupid It Kills

Just as Fang Hong and Liu Tianxian arrived in France.

The "Backstabbing Cult" incident back home still erupted along its original trajectory, and the year's first major drama officially kicked off.

The whole thing started with an entertainment news piece: "During the filming of 'Qianglin Danyou,' actor Yin Xiaotian and actress Bian Xiaoxiao got into a physical altercation due to creative disagreements."

Yin Xiaotian immediately denied on Weibo that he had hit anyone; meanwhile, Bian Xiaoxiao tearfully posted on Weibo claiming she had been beaten.

In no time, a slew of celebrities online began condemning Yin Xiaotian's assault.

Da Heiniu: "I've worked with Bian Xiaoxiao and I trust her character! Called her yesterday, just wanted to say, girl, don't cry!"

Du Chun: "Bro, be a man, come out and apologize!"

Xue Jianing: "Just apologize. Step up and say sorry, it's not a big deal."

Bao Jianfeng: "Director Lai, just hire me next time. One, I don't hit people. Two, I don't change the script. I'm mild-mannered, emotionally stable, quality guaranteed, fair price."

Wang Luodan: "Personal attacks plus character assassination. The truth's already out and people still say she deserved it. What's wrong with this world?"

On top of that, Li Xiaolu, Dong Xuan, Huang Jue — they all jumped out too.

All that wasn't the worst of it. The fatal blow came from the Shoehorn — he claimed he had the truth, said he'd watched the video, confirmed the two really did have a physical clash, and it wasn't the internet publicity stunt people were claiming.

He also hoped one side would apologize to the other to put the matter to rest.

Every one of them playing the good guy, the upright gentleman defending a woman. Yin Xiaotian instantly became the target of everyone's arrows. He posted asking the Shoehorn to release the full video, but the Shoehorn refused.

He even said he had no obligation to, and that what he'd already released was the truth.

Yin Xiaotian had no way to defend himself, so he just let the two sides keep arguing, letting the matter blow up bigger and uglier. When the reversal came, people would see just how hypocritical the entertainment circle really was.

It's fair to say the public image of entertainment-circle celebrities was thoroughly ruined starting from this incident.

Hypocritical to the bone, with nothing but profit in their eyes. Brothers, sisters, relatives, friends — all of them are fair game for betrayal.

This is also why Fang Hong refuses to be friends with anyone in the entertainment circle.

One face in front of you, another behind your back! Fang Hong may be underhanded, but he always comes at you with real knives and real guns out in the open. It's business warfare, and it only targets specific individuals — never harming innocent bystanders.

From the start, he never did anything to Yang Zi, never did anything to Da Heiniu, never did anything to Liu Sisi.

He let "Heaven's Scar" film smoothly, without affecting any other actor in the production.

Rennes, located in northwestern France, has a mild climate. Here you'll find ancient streets and classical architecture.

The two of them walked along feeling as if they'd returned to medieval Ouzhou, though the modern buildings and modern infrastructure sprinkled in reminded them this was the present day.

The roads here aren't very wide — just two lanes in each direction — with leisure squares in the middle for sightseeing.

The greenery is trimmed very artistically, very ornamental.

The city only has a population of just over two hundred thousand, infrastructure is complete, there aren't too many cars on the road, you could jaywalk across if you wanted.

Despite being called the second-largest city, the urban area isn't actually that big, and there aren't that many pedestrians on the streets either.

Liu Tianxian wore her hair loose, put on sunglasses, and dressed in a black windbreaker, looking intellectual and elegant. She held a map in her hand but wore a lost expression on her face.

"I'm starting to think coming here with you was a mistake." Fang Hong, carrying a backpack, found a spot by the road and sat down, resting one hand on the luggage.

This was Liu Tianxian's luggage — women's stuff, lots of it.

The two of them had been wandering around here for ages and still hadn't found the place; they were genuinely worn out from walking.

Liu Tianxian, unburdened, kicked him: "Cut the nonsense, I'm looking for it right now, aren't I?"

"If you really can't read the map, just go ask someone. The place is this small, ask around and you'll definitely find it." Fang Hong brushed the dust off his shin.

Liu Tianxian thought that made sense, grabbed a passing foreigner, pointed at the map and asked. Her French was pretty halting.

The foreigner listened carefully, looked at the map, then turned around, pointed left ahead, then pointed right for a while, rattling off a long string of "ji li gua la."

Liu Tianxian gave an "OK" gesture to show thanks, then looked ahead, then looked at the map again.

Fang Hong stood up: "Did you get an answer?"

"Nope." Liu Tianxian shook her head.

Fang Hong stared at her speechlessly — was she reliable or not?

"Ah well, let's go, we'll ask again up ahead."

Liu Tianxian smiled, looped her arm through his, and headed straight in the direction the foreigner had pointed.

When they were about at the spot, Liu Tianxian got lost again, asked another foreigner, and was told they'd gone past it, so the two of them turned back.

On the way back, following the foreigner's directions along the way, they ended up right back where they started.

"How did we end up back here again?"

Liu Tianxian scratched her head, utterly bewildered.

Fang Hong felt pretty exasperated. He grabbed her shoulders from behind, turned her around to face a European-style multi-story building, and pointed at the sign at the very top: "Isn't this it?"

"What is this?" Liu Tianxian was completely muddled.

"Ubisoft, the Ubisoft office. Isn't that the logo?" Fang Hong took out his phone and showed her a picture.

The picture showed an artistic arrangement of several circles — Ubisoft's trademark.

Liu Tianxian looked at the picture, then at the sign on the building and the string of letters below it, and immediately lit up: "Right, this is it."

"I really can't with you."

Fang Hong was utterly speechless, and with that he headed into the building.

The two of them had been standing right at the entrance, walking back and forth for ages, asking every foreigner they met — and the foreigners weren't reliable either. So stupid it kills.

"Hey, you! You saw it, why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you speak up? You should have said something!" Liu Tianxian caught up, jumped up and smacked his head.

"I wasn't sure! You can read, I can't." Fang Hong said.

"Then it's your fault for not being able to read, not mine." Liu Tianxian turned the tables on him.

On the way here, she couldn't remember who it was that said she'd give her confidence.

"Fine, fine, fine, my fault." Fang Hong let her have it.

"It was your fault to begin with."

The two of them bickered as they entered Ubisoft's lobby and arrived at the front desk.

Liu Tianxian stopped acting crazy, regained her serious demeanor, and introduced herself to the white receptionist: "We are from Yutu Company of China, developers of Hero Glory. We've already communicated with Chairman Claude."

"Please wait a moment."

The white receptionist made a phone call, hung up, and gestured for the two to follow her.

This time, there was no waiting—they were led into a meeting room.

"Oh my God, Mr. Fang, you've made me wait far too long."

Just as the two were playfully teasing each other, a middle-aged white man walked in, greeting them warmly—it was Claude, the company's Chairman and CEO! In truth, he was nearly sixty, though he looked middle-aged, thanks to good upkeep and a life free of worries.

"Sorry, Mr. Claude, we were delayed on the way," Fang Hong said, with Liu Tianxian translating.

"You should've told me—I could've picked you up," Claude replied politely, then turned to Liu Tianxian: "And who is this beautiful lady?"

"I'm his girlfriend. My surname is Liu," Liu Tianxian said directly, without translating.

"Hello, hello."

Claude extended his hand to shake hers, then moved to kiss it.

Fang Hong immediately slapped her hand away: "Let's talk business."

What's with this kissing-hands nonsense?

His hand met empty air, leaving Claude momentarily stunned.

"Apologies, Mr. Claude. We Chinese don't have this custom—we're more conservative. Please understand."

Liu Tianxian offered a polite smile.

She knew the man was jealous; she gave him a slightly reproachful glance—rude.

"Oh, no problem. Let's discuss the partnership," Claude said, unfazed, gesturing for them to sit.

Both sides sat facing each other and first discussed the game.

Ubisoft had seen and played Hero Glory; compared to League of Legends, its competitive gameplay had clear advantages—it was indeed a fine game.

Though its global popularity wasn't high, its growth trend was strong, with great potential.

This had already been discussed over the phone; they understood the basics. This visit was to negotiate global distribution rights outside China and certain other regions.

Ubisoft had studios and distribution centers in over twenty countries worldwide: North America, United Kingdom, Sweden, Switzerland, Finland, Bulgaria, Singapore, India, Ukraine, Poland, Mexico, South Korea, and more, selling in fifty-five countries.

Their distribution channels were extremely broad—Yutu had no such capability.

They also collaborated with Hollywood's Warner, Universal, and Sony, turning their films into games with the same names.

For example, King Kong and Star Wars.

They also had competitive games like Rainbow Six and Quanjing Fensuo, with rich experience and strong operational capabilities.

"My company agrees to the distribution deal. We'll pay you ten million euros in licensing fees. Profit split: Ubisoft takes 70%. Ten-year operation term. Service and other basic licensing parameters will be managed by us. Any objections?" Claude proposed.

At current exchange rates, one euro equals eight RMB—that's eighty million RMB. The game's development costs had already been recouped.

Pig Factory paid two hundred million USD to license Warcraft—that's over a billion RMB. This company is truly stingy.

Liu Tianxian didn't understand games; she translated for Fang Hong.

"Tell him: three-year operation term. Parameters and service licensing rights cannot be altered—they must be controlled by us. Remote server access must be modified by Yutu; they only handle repairs."

Fang Hong didn't mention profit split or negotiate the licensing fee—he wanted control over data, user information, and service rights.

Global data synchronization must be maintained; hero parameters and gameplay data cannot be altered arbitrarily.

If they're allowed to change these freely, the entire Hero Glory ecosystem will collapse—domestic and international players will feel like they're playing two different games.

Why do so many League of Legends players prefer the Korean server? Isn't it because the Korean version updates faster and ahead of others, has lower network latency, and stricter ban systems?

Simply put: better service, access to superior, ahead-of-time versions.

That's why domestic and international players feel like they're playing two different games.

Comparing this, how terrible the Korean server's service is becomes obvious.

Liu Tianxian translated haltingly, but she got the message across clearly.

She didn't dare take this lightly—so much money was involved.

"Oh my God, your conditions are too harsh. If we do this, we're reduced to vassals with zero autonomy," Claude said.

"We're both in the game business—we both understand the importance of player experience. Perhaps in other game genres, Yutu is inferior to your company. But in MOBA competitive design, your company may not understand it as well as we do."

Liu Tianxian repeated Fang Hong's words.

This speech first placed them on equal footing, then flattered the opponent, then undermined them.

It seemed to say nothing—but said everything. Claude fell silent.

Every time Liu Tianxian went out with Fang Hong, she learned something new. She added: "We only want to make this game great, build it into an ecosystem. You make the money. That's all."

"But three years is too short! By the time we've built it up and optimized the channels, you reclaim the rights—then we've done all the work for nothing," Claude said, using a proverb skillfully.

"Three years is just a trial period—not a termination. If you're unsatisfied, we part ways amicably; if I'm satisfied, we continue cooperating," Fang Hong said, speaking smoother than a song.

Liu Tianxian translated word for word—this rhetoric was precise: if you're unhappy, you say "let's part"; if I'm happy, I say "let's cooperate"—all according to your terms.

In truth, they held the initiative—they controlled the data.

Three years was merely a constraint on them: if, during those three years, they didn't properly operate and assist Yutu in building a global gaming ecosystem,

the rights would be reclaimed and given to someone else.

Remember, Warcraft's profit split is only around 50%. If operated well, it's extremely profitable.

Fang Hong intended to make money too—League of Legends later earned over a billion USD annually, over ten billion RMB.

Of course, profits won't be huge in the next two years—it's far behind Dungeon & Fighter and CrossFire.

But the brand effect and other ecosystem revenues—advertising, livestreaming, licensing—are incalculable.

Licensing means you pay us to stream; if you don't pay, you're not allowed to stream. That's content too.

Claude paused, feeling this negotiation was incredibly difficult—he was always on the defensive. This man talked too well; he had no counterarguments.

He argued firmly: "I agree to the parameters and hand over service rights to you, but user data is ours to operate—we can't hand that over."

He wanted to seize some initiative and restrain the other side.

If, after three years, they truly lose the agency rights, and the user data is in their hands, they can use it as leverage to demand benefits.

"This user data isn't yours—it belongs to the game itself. It should be ours jointly. You've taken all the profits; can we really not own the user data? That makes no sense," Liu Tianxian said, mimicking Fang Hong's gesture of spreading her hands.

During this negotiation, both sides traded arguments back and forth; Liu Tianxian appeared relaxed and held the initiative throughout.

Although her French wasn't good, speaking slowly, she could express her meaning clearly.

Since there was no rush, after communicating this way, she felt her French had improved considerably—she had a talent for languages.

The negotiation couldn't be settled on specifics anytime soon, so the three found a Western restaurant to eat and talk.

Build familiarity between each other!

(End of Chapter)