Chapter 262: It

The crew was busy; Fang Hong and Liu Tianxian squatted on the ground watching Chen Sicheng and the others filming in the distance.

Liu Tianxian was curious about one thing.

"That man embezzled, so why do you still trust him so much? It's like he wasn't punished at all?"

"If not him, would the next person be better, more loyal? At least he's faithfully devoted and thinks for me—that's enough," Fang Hong explained.

He had known Lu Dabo for three years; during that time, they'd been through many things, and Lu Dabo had never leaked any of his dirty secrets.

When trouble arose, he willingly took the blame onto himself—that was enough.

Lu Dabo deeply understood that a person who could get him a BMW would never come along a second time in his life.

He had been poor; he knew how bitter poverty was, how he'd been sneered at and shouted at. The Principal not only gave him money but also made him an object of admiration.

If the Principal fell, he would fall too!

Although he spent 300,000 on the extras group, as long as he kept working with him, this money would eventually be earned back.

The crew's food, drink, toiletries, lodging—there were so many people, huge consumption, countless expenses—he could make money back through other channels.

It was just less than before.

Fang Hong didn't forbid Lu Dabo from earning gray income—he just told him not to go too far, not to get exposed; if exposed, it would be cut off entirely, meaning he should tone it down and benefit the people below him more.

This incident was first about exposing Lu Dabo's gray income to the public, then laundering the money.

It gave people the illusion that Lu Dabo had voluntarily exposed his gray income, as if he'd placed himself under the sunlight, naturally earning their trust.

If you talked about replacing him, the next person might be even harsher—embezzling from outside and inside alike.

Lu Dabo only took back a little of the money lost by the crew, never stealing from within the crew itself—he knew the severity.

By the way, Fang Hong knew exactly how Lu Dabo was taking kickbacks, but he couldn't let the people working with him be unable to afford a house!

"I don't get this thing of yours," Liu Tianxian said, propping her chin on one hand, gazing into the distance.

She understood some of these things—the world wasn't just black or white, there was gray too—but when it came to Fang Hong, she paid closer attention.

She also knew Fang Hong was right—he needed a few people he could trust, who'd show favoritism.

Time passed, and the fashion photos Liu Tianxian had taken earlier that year appeared on the covers of China's five major magazines in September.

These fashion photos had been shot in August but were only released now.

Harper's Bazaar, Bazaar, Elle, Marie Claire, and Cosmo—the five leading domestic fashion magazines—achieved a full cover sweep.

Sales of these magazines kept selling out; clearly, Liu Tianxian's fans were still very powerful.

This was a sign of honor, a market affirmation!

One netizen joked: "Tianxian really stays silent and quietly gets rich!"

"It's hard to find a star even more low-key than Liu Tianxian—she doesn't even announce her cover appearances; this approach is truly admirable."

"Liu Tianxian is a female star who doesn't need marketing—she wins people's affection through her work and image alone."

"So beautiful, so high-end!"

"."

These were, of course, positive reviews; there were also negative ones criticizing her styling as outdated, bizarre, or weird.

The August issue of Vogue Asia's cover had been similarly mocked—the styling was strange, lacking any ethereal charm, leaning too much into androgyny.

Foreign fashion magazines always do this; I don't know what kind of aesthetic these high-end photographers have—they always prefer shooting women in a masculinized way. Is that really high-end?

Domestic fashion magazines are much more normal; though flashy, they still lean feminine, matching Chinese audience tastes.

Liu Tianxian's frequent appearances on fashion magazine covers prove her status and her position in the entertainment industry, while also displacing other actresses' covers.

Of course, this was accompanied by constant scandals and smear campaigns.

"Cover showdown: Liu Tianxian crushed by Da Mimi and Xia Jie."

This kind of headline appeared on Weibo and in news outlets, sparking fan wars and mutual bashing among several fanbases.

Recently, Xia Jie became popular thanks to The Xuan-Yuan Sword, while Da Mimi has been popular from the start of the year to the end.

So both of their fanbases are huge.

Now, online dissemination moves fast; TV dramas can greatly expand a star's influence.

TV dramas make stars popular far more easily than movies, because TV dramas are free—people can watch them at home, reaching a much wider audience.

Plus, their longer runtime allows stars to gradually develop their roles, to be slowly absorbed.

Movies are only one or two hours long; unless the performance is outstanding, audiences simply won't remember you.

That's why Jing Tian never became famous, no matter how many blockbusters she appeared in—people just couldn't remember her.

On the contrary, the TV dramas they acted in were all still watchable.

Besides these things, a new piece of news recently emerged: reporters heard rumors that Yutu had raised wages for all extras.

Reporters interviewed several extras; one extra wearing a straw hat was asked: "Is this true?"

"It's true—the Principal raised everyone's pay to 200 yuan; now we only need to give 20 yuan to the group leader," the extra held up two fingers.

The reporter asked: "Why still take your money? Shouldn't it all go to you?"

"Of course we have to give some—otherwise who leads us, who gathers us? Our transportation costs money too. Twenty yuan is already little; before, it was way more." The extra spoke enthusiastically.

The reporter asked: "How much did you used to get?"

"Around 80 or 100," the extra said.

The reporter asked: "Why did you used to get so little?"

Reporters sometimes really ask the strangest questions—as if they've never lived in the real world.

It's like they don't even live in the same world!

"It got swallowed—both extras and the crew took cuts," the extra said.

The reporter asked: "How much did they take?"

"Don't know—nobody talks about it," the extra said.

The reporter asked, "Then how do you know the Principal didn't pocket your wages?"

"The Principal is the one who pays us—why would he pocket our wages? If you don't understand, don't talk nonsense." The extra looked a little agitated.

"Exactly—how much the Principal pays, how much goes to the group leader, how much we get, it's all public, and we can check it ourselves." Another extra added excitedly.

Say one bad word about the Principal and this group gets upset. The reporter kept stirring things up: "But surely there are other fees that get deducted from your pay? Like meals and such."

"Nope, three meals included, but no housing." "."

This kind of news quickly became a social hot topic—the Principal raising wages for all the extras appeared on every major portal site and in print media reports.

"Jade Rabbit Extras Get a Raise! From 100 yuan a day to 200 yuan a day.

"Extras' Wages Skyrocket—Increase Staggering!

"History High: Jade Rabbit Extras' Daily Pay Rises to 200 Yuan.

"."

Once these news pieces broke, Wangyi swarmed to watch the show. A famous extra posted his daily pay, noting meals and drinks included, housing not included.

Such treatment left many Wangyi restless.

"Anyone need a dead body? I can lie down for a whole day!"

"That's more than Hengdian! Hengdian pays 100 for ten hours—I'm going to work for the Principal."

"Damn, I don't even get a hundred."

"Already quit. Any bros with connections? Want to go work for the Principal. Don't want to go into the factory anymore—they won't even give me a hundred a day."

"The Principal has a conscience!"

"."

The Wangyi enjoyed the spectacle, but the matter kept fermenting online, quickly flooding the feeds.

All because the pay exceeded their expectations.

It also exceeded most people's wage levels—at least 180 a day, with meals included. Now many people struggle to make 100 a day, with no meals, no housing.

The matter quickly became a hot topic of social discussion.

But as the incident fermented, an article appeared on a certain financial website, standing out jarringly.

"Malicious Wage Hikes Harm Others and Yourself!

The gist was that Jade Rabbit's behavior disrupted market order, and for ordinary people, getting high wages did more harm than good.

Another article put it this way:

{Jade Rabbit uses wage standards far above the domestic industry to corrode the people—what are its intentions?

Using sugar-coated bullets to buy hearts, sowing discord between extras and domestic enterprises, destroying the film and television environment—its wolfish ambitions are plain for all to see.

Those who hype it up and praise the Principal's conscience are all Jade Rabbit's accomplices. }

The article went on at length, saying the Principal harbored ulterior motives, that he had wrecked the domestic industry's environment, and was utterly unforgivable.

Yu Pangzi came out again to fish for relevance, saying:

"Raising extras' pay is understandable, but you also have to consider whether other companies can bear it. If other companies can't bear it and you raise wages recklessly, that's not a contribution to society or the industry—it's a harm."

He delivered this kind of talk with practiced ease.

But it didn't win the Wangyi's agreement—instead it drew their criticism, calling him a bloody capitalist.

"Never watching Bona's movies again!"

But Yu Pangzi's words weren't meant for the Wangyi, nor for his subordinates—they were meant for the bosses of other film and television companies.

Because Fang Hong's move had invisibly raised costs for production companies across the entire industry.

If others raise theirs, you can't very well not raise yours—so investment capital in film and television also faces higher costs.

Before, 100 yuan could hire a bunch of people to do their work; now it's risen to 200 yuan—labor costs ballooning without limit.

Before, 10 million could shoot a film; now it takes 15 million.

With the same budget, the extra money can book big names; if the budget's tight, you can only afford smaller names, and the extra money has to go to extras and temps.

White money scattered to the poor—the Principal is committing sins, and who knows if he'll keep raising it later!

Sure enough, Fang Hong's move drew a joint boycott from film and television company bosses, who even reported him upward.

But the higher-ups didn't do anything to Fang Hong—just told him to come out and explain himself briefly.

Raising wages and still getting it wrong—these people, really!

On set, Fang Hong accepted an interview with a CCTV reporter, saying: "Jade Rabbit regards every employee, every extra, as an important asset of our company.

Raising extras' pay is for efficiency and quality, to guarantee on-time completion. I think it's very reasonable—in fact, we raised too little; we should have raised more."

He basically didn't care what bosses of other film and television companies thought—he'd raise it if he wanted to, what are you going to do about it.

This instantly put every other domestic film and television company to shame, effectively roasting them over the fire.

But Fang Hong didn't care at all—he was used to going his own way. Whoever provoked him got their costs raised.

The CCTV reporter came with an assignment; after the interview, he happened to see Liu Tianxian coming off set.

He walked over and stuck out his microphone: "Tianxian, did you just finish a scene?"

"Mm, yes, just shot a wire-fu sequence." Liu Tianxian replied.

"How did it feel?" the reporter asked.

"Not bad, just a quick jolt anyway." Liu Tianxian seemed quite casual.

"Looks like you've got some dirt on your face." the reporter said.

"Really? Let me see."

Liu Tianxian leaned toward the camera to check her face, found a few dark smudges on her forehead, and wiped them off with her fair, tender arm.

"Looks like there's some dirt." the reporter said.

"Probably. My arm got scratched too, but that's totally normal." Liu Tianxian said it as if it were nothing.

"You should handle it quickly," the journalist said with concern.

"Alright, see you later."

Liu Tianxian waved her hand to signal the journalist.

She knew the journalist wasn't here to interview her, but to interview Fang Hong.

(End of Chapter)