Chapter 277: The Strong Create Opportunities

High box office inevitably comes with endless controversy — the controversy being that *Lost in Thailand* infringed on copyrights.

What it infringed on was its predecessor *Lost on Journey*!

Before it was plagiarism, now it's infringement — Yutu really is a nest of "literary thieves," someone cursed.

But that matter is what it is — if the other side wants to sue, just deal with it; it won't affect the box office much.

*Lost in Thailand*'s subsequent box office stayed steady, hovering around forty to fifty million; it all depends on how it performs after the upcoming releases of *CZ12* and *The Last Tycoon*.

Back in Beijing, Fang Hong was still at work. Lately he had a lot going on, as if he were plotting something — because word on the street had it that *Now You See Me* had a production budget of 300 million and was set to release on February 10.

That is, during the Spring Festival, opening the same day as *Journey to the West: Conquering the Demons*.

Another piece of news: Tu Piao Piao was about to open a second round of financing.

Damn, this made Huayi very nervous — financing means raising money, and the Principal was clearly coming for them again. They had to probe from every direction: was it real or fake?

Mainly they feared the Principal would launch another capital-warfare campaign. That kind of play is unsolvable — pouring in massive amounts regardless of cost, losing a few hundred million without batting an eye. Who could withstand that?

They had no choice but to cry for help from Alibaba Daddy!

Even Xing Ye had to take it seriously. He had been keeping an eye on the Principal — that man had never lost.

In every showdown with Huayi, he came out on top.

Actually, the three-hundred-million production cost claim was pure hot air. Apart from a few top leaders at Yutu, nobody knew how much was actually invested in *Now You See Me*.

Recently, aside from the buzz in film and TV, the biggest piece of gossip in the entertainment circle was the Liu Tianxian "same-sex" incident.

There was a little essay online that catalogued, from the very beginning when Liu and Zeng met while filming, to eating together, shopping, going to concerts, and how during the release of *White Lies, Black Songs* Zeng said there was only one woman in his eyes.

Then wearing the same necklace together, Zeng even had a character tattooed on his hair, and most recently running away together on the supposed end of the world.

All the interactions and photos were compiled into a little essay, titled: "A Detailed Exposé of Liu & Zeng's Romance."

The essay also pointed out that Zeng had always been same-sex oriented — he had forcibly kissed girls before, dressed like a boy — if that style and dress weren't same-sex, what was?

Essays like this were everywhere; tweak them a little, add your own take, and it became "original content."

The pictures were already out there, the gossip was already out there — it was just that enough evidence had been gathered and concentrated into one eruption.

Some netizens even went to the customer service of a brand Liu Tianxian endorsed and asked: "Is your product meant for homosexuals?"

That question and the reply were even posted online.

Seeing all the various hype online, the photos of Liu and Zeng together and their interactions — even those netizens who had believed Liu Tianxian was a normal woman had to admit she was same-sex oriented.

Even fans who had been following the relationship between Liu Tianxian and the Principal, believing the two had something going on, couldn't help doubting their own impression.

Because the controversy was so great, the Sheng Dian Hong Tan Wan Hui announced that Liu Tianxian's appearance on the red carpet had been cancelled.

This delighted the trolls and rival fans.

"Someone like that doesn't deserve to show up."

"How can a same-sex oriented person appear in public? They should be banned."

"The authorities should do something about this."

"."

There were many such comments.

Even some brand renewal negotiations were put on hold, pending how things developed.

But Liu Tianxian acted as if nothing had happened — after taking home the Best Actress award in Macau, she kept smiling the whole way, was especially happy going home, and showed off in front of her mother.

She waved the Trophy in front of her mother, like a lively little girl.

This left Liu Xiaoli not knowing whether to laugh or cry: "It's just one award, what's there to show off about."

"This is my very first Best Actress in my life — it proves I'm making progress!" Liu Tianxian said.

"Fair point — my daughter has made progress."

Liu Xiaoli was happy for her daughter too. She took the Trophy from her hands and examined it: "Not bad, not bad — if there's a first, there'll be a second."

"Hehehe, I'll win even more."

Liu Tianxian laughed cutely, took back the Trophy: "I'm going to put it away."

With that, she ran upstairs.

Liu Xiaoli watched her daughter's cheerful back, her gaze gentle — in her heart she resolved that she would be the one to play the villain.

These past few days she had been following the public-opinion storm around her daughter. Apart from scattered news of her winning the award, everything else was basically the same-sex incident.

It had already erupted, and it was obvious someone was adding fuel to the fire.

Liu Tianxian, who had run back upstairs, went into the study. It was exquisite and clean, lined with many books, and the air carried a faint scholarly fragrance.

She walked to a wooden bookcase against the wall, took the books out of one of the compartments and set them on the desk, then placed the Trophy inside.

She then turned, crouched down, pulled open the cabinet under the desk, and took out another Trophy from inside.

This was Fang Hong's Golden Horse Best Supporting Actor award. At the time Fang Hong had tossed it aside carelessly, not cherishing it at all, so she had taken it back for him.

She placed the two Trophies together, then set a prepared photo frame beside them.

The photo frame showed a picture of the two of them being perfectly polite, bowing to each other as they presented the award.

Seeing the two of them like that made her want to laugh.

After arranging everything, Liu Tianxian stepped back, stroked her chin and admired it for a while, took a photo with her phone, and sent it to Fang Hong.

She sent a message: "Our Trophies."

Fang Hong was at the company. His phone went "ding," and seeing what the photo showed, he couldn't help smiling.

"Nice. Are you okay?" he messaged.

Liu Tianxian saw that message, and her originally joyful expression turned to disappointment. She knew the second sentence was asking about the recent same-sex matter — how she was feeling.

Although she hadn't been reading the internet, she had learned about it through people around her — Shuchang, for instance, had chatted with her about it.

And had even spoken up for her online, but the impact was too small, useless. Over on his end, Fang Hong saw no reply for a long while and put down his phone.

Speaking of which, the mother-in-law should have been anxious by now — so why was there no movement?

That day, Fang Hong was discussing matters with Chen Zhixi; the Film Bureau had recently issued a document.

This document was an internal one, distributed only to the various film and television companies; if a press release were to be issued, it would probably have to wait until January of next year.

That is, China Film Group, Stellar, Huayi, Enlight, Bona, and Jade Rabbit — the Six Majors — had succeeded in their boycott of the excessive revenue-sharing demands of Wanda, Shanghai United, and thirty other major national theater chains.

Jade Rabbit was just putting its name on it, not taking the lead — China Film Group's boss was right here.

Besides, this matter also benefited Jade Rabbit.

The theater-chain alliance had been broken up by the distributors, who agreed to adjust the revenue split.

For theaters that refused to renegotiate the split, they could just show fewer films or none at all, and give the films to theaters willing to adjust.

If the producers united, they could even sit on the films — films originally scheduled for release this year could be pushed to next year.

The hard drives were right here; holding off for a few months or a year or two to release was fine, the value was still there. But theaters couldn't drag things out — physical venues incurred costs every single day.

As the market grew ever larger and the number of theaters kept increasing, they too needed content to fill their screens.

If the producers lost their enthusiasm, the theaters would become mere decorations.

After this revenue-split adjustment, the proportions for taxes and funds remained unchanged; the share taken by the theater chains would be negotiated among the theaters themselves, no longer borne by the producers.

If a chain demanded too high a share, theaters could defect to other chains — generally 2% to 7%, with some chains offering 2% to attract theaters.

After the adjustment, the theater's share was 55%, of which 2% went to the chain.

The producers' share, adjusted from around 43%, became 45%, including distribution — how to split it between the two sides was up to them.

That is, out of 100 yuan, after deducting 8.3 for taxes and funds, 91.7 yuan remained.

The chain and theaters took 55%, splitting 50.435 yuan; the producers and distributors took 45%, splitting 41.265 yuan.

That way, it came out to exactly 91.7 yuan.

These were the highest mainstream proportions for producers; without prestige in the industry, this proportion would be lowered — only top-tier companies and big-name directors could enjoy it.

Jade Rabbit was also a major company; its share was 45%, of which 8% went to distribution, 3% to Rabbit Ticket, and 5% to China Film Group.

In other words, Jade Rabbit could get a 37% share on a single film.

This was the era when producers finally started making money, and the beginning of the film market's prosperity — bad films would be mass-produced starting in '13, exploding from '14 onward.

Anything — "Where Are We Going, Dad?", "The Voice of China" — could become a film; any Tom, Dick, or Harry could make a movie.

No other reason — with this adjustment, damn, it was just too profitable, and the market was huge; a casual few tens of millions at the box office meant a few tens of millions in profit.

How much does it cost to make a film? Hire a few traffic stars, and one or two hundred million yuan is enough to shoot.

This document would be published in January.

Of course, "Lost in Thailand" could enjoy this proportion — if it didn't enjoy this proportion, not only would Huayi, Bona, Enlight, and Jade Rabbit refuse to accept it.

Those smaller film companies also wouldn't accept it; this New Year Slot had quite a few films lined up.

"Not easy — finally made it through." Fang Hong set down the document from the Film Bureau.

With this proportion, it was time for Jade Rabbit to take off, because Jade Rabbit had been laying groundwork for so long — copyrights, scripts, a whole pile — it could mass-produce at will.

"Hehe, that's right, but all your work was for nothing." Chen Zhixi said with a smile.

Once this document was published, other companies' stock prices would surely shoot up and up; not only could Jade Rabbit take off, other film companies could too.

In his previous life, once this document was published, Huayi's stock price took off like a rocket, soaring to three or four hundred billion.

All of Fang Hong's exhausting efforts couldn't match a single document from above — so it was all for nothing!

"A castle in the air, that's all. We still have to strike where we must — otherwise they'll think I'm easy to bully. The Now You See Me matter cannot stop; we must lure them into the trap." he said.

"Aren't you afraid of offending Alibaba?" Chen Zhixi said.

"If we're afraid of this and afraid of that, then we might as well settle for being petty rich men — others advance one step, we retreat one step; others advance two steps, we retreat two steps. Eventually we'll have nowhere to retreat to, with a cliff behind us." Fang Hong said.

Chen Zhixi also knew that to rise, it couldn't all be smooth sailing, but she still advised: "Wait for the right moment — Alibaba has only just set foot in this field."

"Opportunities aren't waited for, they're created. While you're waiting for an opportunity, someone else may already be plotting to create one." Fang Hong said.

These words made Chen Zhixi realize that the Principal had changed now — before, he always went with the flow, using others' strength against them; for instance, the revenue-split boycott was going with the flow, not being the bird that sticks its head out.

Like striking at Huayi's stock price — it was Huayi itself that had problems, and he struck by going with the flow.

But now, the Principal created his own opportunities to strike — if there was no incident, he'd manufacture one.

That's how the strong operate — who waits for you to be ready? They create opportunities to finish you off.

Like this Liu Tianxian incident — Liu Tianxian wanted to muddle through and downplay the matter, but her opponents wouldn't give her the chance; even if they had to create one, they'd pin her down.

In essence, it was because Fang Hong now had a lot of uncertainty about the future — the butterfly effect had affected many things — that he had to be the one playing chess.

If you wait for others to make mistakes, what if your appearance means they don't make mistakes?

What if things don't follow their original trajectory? Like this Liu Tianxian incident — it didn't follow the original trajectory.

"Knock, knock, knock."

Just as the two were talking, the secretary knocked on the door and stood at the entrance to report: "General Manager Fang, there's a Ms. Liu outside who wants to see you."

"Which Ms. Liu?" Fang Hong asked, puzzled.

"She says her name is Liu Xiaoli." the secretary said.

"Let her in."

Fang Hong straightened his clothes and stood up, saying to Chen Zhixi: "You go ahead first."

(End of chapter)