Chapter 289

Liu Tianxian's involvement in the incident, after Yutu Film Industry launched a indiscriminate attack on the entire entertainment circle and Yao Dazui was labeled "Evil," was essentially put on temporary hold.

No one was issuing publicity drafts or stirring up controversy, seeking trouble.

It made everyone aware that Liu Tianxian was under the Principal's protection—tangling with her meant tangling with the Principal.

For a time, celebrity gossip online grew eerily calm, as if the entire entertainment industry had fallen silent.

No one was insulting anyone, nor buying publicity drafts for anyone; even Xia Jie had reduced her opportunistic posts, mainly fearing the Principal's retaliation.

They were terrified the Principal would make examples of them.

And as celebrities who survived on public opinion and traffic, too many scandals would overwhelm them.

No one had Liu Tianxian's thick blood or such fierce resilience.

And now, the Principal, now Yutu Film Industry, was at its zenith, like a blazing sun illuminating the entire film and television industry.

{December 12, 2012, a special day—not only because it was a digital date invented by netizens, but because Yutu Film Industry's movie Avatar in Thailand premiered on this day. }

In the days that followed, Avatar in Thailand sparked a public "craze," turning this low-budget film of only thirty million yuan into a box office legend in Chinese cinema history, becoming the highest-grossing film of all time.

On January 12, 2013, after one full month, Avatar in Thailand's box office surpassed 1.2 billion yuan, far exceeding the box office record set by Superintelligence in 2012.

Its current box office in China stands only below Avatar's 1.379 billion yuan record.

According to the latest news, Avatar in Thailand's screenings will be temporarily extended until January 28.

The film's overwhelming praise made Chen Zhixi of Yutu Film Industry "astonish the world!"}

This report was published in the Financial Daily, titled: "Chen Zhixi's '1.2 Billion Yuan Miracle' of Avatar in Thailand!"

It elevated Chen Zhixi to great heights, for this film—from its initial development, funding, production, to promotion and distribution—was entirely led and personally executed by her.

It was also her first work completed entirely apart from Fang Hong.

Previous films had, to varying degrees, carried Fang Hong's imprint; now she was growing into a competent film entrepreneur.

The success of this film signaled the rise of domestic cinema, the rise of a new generation of directors and filmmakers, and a challenge to old cultural norms.

Even mainstream and online media were rushing to report on this phenomenon-level film.

"Avatar in Thailand's Box Office Breaks 1.2 Billion, Shatters Domestic Film Record!" People's Daily Online.

"Avatar in Thailand's Box Office Breaks 1.2 Billion! 【Shocked】" Sina Entertainment.

"Avatar in Thailand's Box Office Breaks 1.2 Billion, Sets Record, Boosts Thailand Tourism!" Sohu Entertainment.

"Avatar in Thailand's Box Office Breaks 1.2 Billion: Review—Comedy Beats Seriousness, Not Worth Celebrating." China News Service.

Media reactions were mostly jubilant and astonished, though criticism existed.

This was unavoidable—a phenomenon-level film going viral inevitably drew all kinds of voices.

But it did nothing to diminish the fact that this was a landmark event signaling prosperity in China's film industry.

Netizens felt little; they simply thought the film funny, entertaining, and fresh.

Experts, however, were numerous in their criticism: "Avatar in Thailand is a typical three-vulgarity film: vulgar, philistine, and pandering! China's cultural industry cannot fixate solely on box office; it must prioritize cultural orientation and elevate the public's cultural literacy and taste."

Even Xiao Su, a literature professor and writer at Central China Normal University, lambasted in the Yangtze River Daily: "Avatar in Thailand is a harmful example for the cultural industry!"

The literary world's refusal to sink to the same lowbrow tastes as the masses was understandable.

The success of this film stirred up media, newspapers, and the literary world, with experts of all kinds jumping out to vent.

But Xu Guangtou was upset by the criticism and posted a rebuttal: "Watch the movie first."

Unlike his agitation, Chen Zhixi remained calm, stating: "It's just a movie. We sincerely made a commercial comedy. Different films serve different functions—you can't demand a comedy carry profound meaning, critique society, or explore human nature."

She paused here, her desire to express herself having grown too strong.

She actually wanted to say: You won't let us shoot it that way, yet you still demand endless cuts and edits.

She shifted instead: "I believe the greatest function of film is still to delight audiences, to move them emotionally. Intellectuals may hold higher standards for films—that's a good thing; it encourages us to pay attention to things beyond commerce."

Even Wang Zhangtian of Guangxian emerged to voice his opinion on this phenomenon-level film: "Guangxian used to love collaborating with Hong Kong directors. The Principal made us realize Hong Kong directors treat film as mere labor."

"They have a certain baseline box office, but at most reach 150 to 200 million, then plateau—many big directors struggle to break a billion. But mainland directors have no ceiling; every year's box office miracles are created by mainland directors."

"Moreover, mainland directors understand mainland culture better—their films are more grounded."

These remarks amounted to a rejection of Hong Kong directors, shifting the film market's direction.

With both the Principal and Guangxian's General Manager showing no favor toward Hong Kong directors, the myth of Hong Kong cinema was crumbling.

Hence, the debate grew intense, and coverage multiplied.

Previously, even challenges could still be met—but now, there's no way to compete; even Fang Long's Twelve Zodiacs barely cleared 800 million, a gap far beyond minor.

It still didn't surpass Superintelligence's mid-2012 box office.

Avatar in Thailand's success, combined with Yutu Film Industry's multiple hits in 2012, made Yutu's banner even more distinct; many talented but unrecognized directors and screenwriters came with scripts seeking Yutu's collaboration and investment.

For example, Han Han arrived with his script for Goodbye, Mr. Loser; auteur director Diao Yinan brought his script for Black Coal, Thin Ice.

These were scripts they'd spent over a decade developing. But Chen Zhixi thought Black Coal, Thin Ice would earn no box office, a pure waste of time, and rejected it.

Even if it made money, it wouldn't make much—wasting one or two years, why not make something else?

But Fang Hong took it back, saying: "Don't chase money alone; pursue art appropriately."

Chen Zhixi stared at him, stunned: "You've changed. You weren't like this before."

She remembered how Fang Hong once told her: "Focus on success first, don't care about the process."

How real estate was operated—take others' value and use it.

These theories had all come from this man's mouth—always chasing money, chasing profit—now he no longer wanted to make money, but sought meaning beneath it.

"An excellent enterprise must have social responsibility. Otherwise, why do we run businesses? Are we truly without any integrity, merely chasing money? Money is endless—you must give back appropriately," Fang Hong said, introducing new theories.

Chen Zhixi had no strength to refute him—each stage, Fang Hong's views changed.

Like a person: first you seek to eat, then after eating, you seek spiritual joy.

On January 14, at Guomao Zhongxin, Liu Tianxian, having accompanied Fang Hong for ten days to half a month, finally emerged to attend the annual Weibo Night.

She went with Zhang Jingying and Chen Zhixi; Zhang Jingying had a performance—she sang.

Chen Zhixi, as this year's top figure, was there to collect an award.

Fang Hong had also been invited, and they even said they'd give him an award, but Fang Hong had no interest.

At events like this, he'd just be showing off—he'd already moved beyond such lowbrow pleasures, advancing toward higher ones.

At the Weibo Night venue, the red carpet was opulent, lights flashed brilliantly, female stars glowed with beauty, each radiating charm and brilliance.

Da Mimi, Da Baobei, Han Geng, Yao Dazui, Longliqi, Sun Li, Li Bailian, Li Xiaolu, Rong Zu'er, Guoji Zhang, Da Heiniu, Zhang Xinyu, Su Mang, Fa Ge and his wife—all current popular stars and celebrities—were present.

Of course, top figures also attended: Yu Pangzi, Chairman of Bona; Jiang Zhiqiang, Chairman of Anle; Shen Nanpeng, Chairman of Sequoia; Wang Zong, Founder of Huayi; Cao Guowei, Chairman of Sina—all capital magnates.

Chen Zhixi was now also a capital magnate.

Liu Tianxian was one of the most popular female stars at the time; after her scandals faded, her reputation improved, so naturally she walked the red carpet near the front, while others had to wait.

This made Da Mimi, Da Baobei, and others resentful, yet they had to manage their expressions.

There she appeared: Liu Tianxian, fair-skinned, beautiful, with bright red lips, wearing a sky-blue long dress, elegant at the red carpet entrance.

Only she came alone—Chen Zhixi didn't need to walk; she wasn't a star.

"Whoosh!" The reporters and photographers beside the red carpet erupted in commotion; someone nearly rushed forward.

This startled Liu Tianxian slightly, but realizing nothing was wrong, she glanced playfully yet reproachfully at a male photographer beside the carpet.

It was this man who had nearly rushed forward just now.

Her expression was adorable; clearly, her mood was excellent. The photographer blushed slightly, then snapped photos furiously, capturing that look to post online for fans to stare at.

Flashbulbs kept firing; after casually signing her name on the autograph wall, a host interviewed her.

The host asked: "Tianxian, what was your greatest gain in 2012?"

"Hmm, my greatest gain is that I feel I've become luckier," Liu Tianxian smiled.

"In what way?"

"In every way—everything. As long as you keep your mindset right, don't obsess over gains and losses, I feel lucky, and I've gained a lot," Liu Tianxian smiled.

She meant luck in her career, luck in meeting Fang Hong; as long as she didn't chase perfection, accepted her man's flaws, it was quite good.

Once she let go, it was fine—Fang Hong could never become the man she'd imagined, but he cared for her feelings, restrained himself, became the one who protected her; that feeling was warm indeed.

The host asked: "What's your New Year's wish?"

"I hope I stay this lucky forever."

After speaking, Liu Tianxian walked toward the Guomao venue; behind her, Da Mimi stepped onto the red carpet.

Da Mimi wore a white gown, head held high with confidence as she walked the red carpet.

As she moved, her chest swayed slightly.

She placed one hand on her hip for photos—such confidence, determined not to lose to the woman ahead, who kept stealing her spotlight.

Da Baobei and other female stars also harbored competitive feelings.

Liu Tianxian was completely ordinary; she didn't care how other female stars or people viewed her or competed with her.

In her heart, being true to herself was what mattered most.

The Weibo Night venue was huge, grand and imposing; two upper floors curved halfway around the hall as seating, while the entire lower level was the star and guest seating.

The guest seats were arranged with single armchairs and three-person sofas, clearly more upscale and dignified than other events.

Sina was quite willing to spend money here—they relied on stars to drive traffic, after all.

(End of Chapter)