Chapter 321: Capital Chain Break

Time entered April. "Bundle-like Love" had done two days of script table reads, and after that came rehearsal, that is, a preview run-through.

This was to let the actors run through the important scenes once, get familiar with the role ahead of time, and get into character early to feel it out — of course, this was done under the director's guidance.

The director could also, based on the actors' performance, design the blocking and shots in advance.

This production was still being done very seriously — after all, anyone could tell the script was good; whether it could become a classic depended on the director's creative skill.

Liu Tianxian had been busy with her own role the whole time, so the time she spent with Fang Hong had decreased.

Mainly she had to handle her own affairs and had to act well — she didn't have that much time.

But the two weren't in separate places either; their workplace was right there at Jade Rabbit, so they'd still see each other morning and evening.

Actually, Liu Tianxian was also under pressure, because she saw that Bai Yu, who was acting opposite her, had pretty good acting skills — and he was three years younger than her, yet she was being outshone.

People from the Central Academy of Drama really were different!

Moreover, this was her first art-house film, and it was still within her acting comfort zone — the literary young woman.

If she didn't act well, getting scolded would mean the whole crew got scolded.

It had always been like that before — when she was bad, the drama was bad too, dragging the whole film to flop, which made her feel very guilty.

There was still about a month until May Day; the May Day slot was about to open, and once again it was time for the big films to compete.

This year there was an "Iron Man 3," but this film's release date kept floating around and had never been finally locked in.

But there were rumors it would be scheduled for the May Day period, a few days before May Day itself.

In his previous life, this film being scheduled for May Day had spawned many conspiracy theories, saying the movie was originally supposed to be set for April 27 or 28, but Enlight Media played dirty.

Around the middle of the month, "Iron Man 3," which had already passed the final technical review, was sent back to cut some inappropriate scenes, causing the prints to have to be remade.

But the remake wouldn't be done until month's end, so it was impossible to release on the 27th or 28th, thus avoiding the hot "So Young" on April 26.

It also avoided "American Dreams in China," and was placed on May Day itself for release.

For profit, those film and television capital firms really could do anything.

"Iron Man 3"'s release date kept floating around for another reason too — this film had never had a final conclusion on whether it should be classified as a co-production or an imported film.

Because this movie had the domestic film company dmg investing, and Fan Xiaopang and Wang Xueqi also had parts in it.

So there was no conclusion yet on whether it was a co-production or an import, but Fang Hong knew this film was classified as an import — a co-production wouldn't have met the regulations.

The Chinese people's screen time in it was too little!

Logically speaking, an imported film shouldn't have gotten such a good slot as May Day, but it did.

This also foreshadowed that the era of the domestic protection month was about to end — the higher-ups wanted to put pressure on these film and television workers.

Of course, it was more a matter of political factors.

Because the youth films of this time-space had been ruined by Fang Hong, "American Dreams in China" was in his hands, so "Iron Man 3" became his enemy.

"American Dreams in China" was set for release on April 28, that is, a few days before May Day.

Basically the same day as the rumored "Iron Man 3."

Competition was definitely going to happen. Fang Hong knew that in this time-space, without Enlight Media playing dirty, this film would most likely be released on the 28th, the same day as his.

This was a bit hard to handle — the other side was an IP film with a reputation abroad, plus the reputation of Hollywood and the reputation of Disney; releasing on the same day, who could handle that?

In these years, Hollywood films were still very popular!

If he didn't fight, there'd be no box office; if he fought, people would again slam Fang Hong as a tumor, making enemies everywhere and refusing to cooperate — the film and television circle was all about cooperation.

Anyway, Fang Hong hadn't seen much cooperation in this era — it was all struggle.

Later on, cooperation — a single film with dozens of producers — was the result of internet capital and big capital entering the market and forcibly gluing things together. Behind more than half of the entertainment companies, the capital was all Tencent, Houdé, IDG, Cat Factory, CMC, Sequoia, Zhenfund... these capital firms.

They all had stakes in each other, so of course a single film could have over a dozen producers.

Those capital firms cast their nets everywhere, investing in dozens of entertainment companies, so they could all go in together.

It wasn't that time yet. Xu Laoguai's "Shen Du Long Wang" also counted as an IP with a reputation abroad, yet only Huayi was the sole lead producer — this was the current state of things.

But Fang Hong knew the great era was about to arrive soon; what made him anxious was that his growth was too slow.

Recently, another thing had happened — "Hero Glory"'s revenue had dropped. Fang Hong was on the phone with Li Min, asking him what was going on.

He was the manager of "Hero Glory."

If the game's revenue dropped, it couldn't support the other business segments of Chang'e Technology — that was a deadly serious matter.

"Now some cheats have appeared on the market, and some plugins that modify game data and let players customize skins at will, causing 'Hero Glory''s revenue to drop," Li Min reported.

The cheats had destroyed the game's ecosystem, causing the player count to decrease; the free customization of skins had caused revenue to drop.

Because players could use plugins to freely swap in skins outside the official ones, using skins modded by amateurs.

This was the result of Fang Hong's initial laissez-faire attitude toward plugins — it had backfired.

"Is there any way to curb it?" Fang Hong was talking about the cheats.

"We regularly update the game and patch vulnerabilities, and we set up a reporting mechanism before. There's been some effect, but not much. I suspect it's the work of competitors," Li Min said.

"Competitors?" Fang Hong questioned.

This "competitors" covered a wide range — it struck at all game manufacturers.

"Right. The second before we update, the cheats update to the latest version the next second. It's clearly organized, not like guerrilla work — guerrilla operators don't have that kind of technical strength," Li Min said.

Cheats were also a very complex computer technology; ordinary people couldn't develop them. Being able to keep up that fast clearly pointed to organized, targeted action.

Many games had been killed by cheats — for example, "Apex Yingxiong," "MapleStory," "CrossFire" — many. The ones killing games could be those badass programmers in society, or there could be the shadow of competitors — competitors, of course, hidden beneath the surface.

Normal business competition — very normal.

"Is it possible that one of your internal programmers leaked the code?" Fang Hong countered.

"Huh?!" Li Min was stunned.

"As far as I know, if someone inside leaks information, it's very easy to make targeted cheats," Fang Hong said.

"This..." Li Min was momentarily speechless.

If it was an internal leak, it would be a failure of his management — a pretty serious matter.

"Strengthen management, strengthen information security. You can also use legal means to crack down on cheats—just cooperate on that. I'll hand it to Zhang Nan to handle." This was all Fang Hong could do at this stage; he had no better response.

In truth he knew it was a competitor—either Tencent or Tencent—but what could he do? They weren't even on the same scale.

Unless he ran over there and launched a physical attack on Tencent.

When it came down to it, this was a fight over interests. Refuse to let them buy in, refuse investment, refuse to join Tencent's camp—who else would they go after?

And games were Tencent's core cash-cow business to begin with; sixty percent of their revenue came from games.

An absolute competitor.

Handing it to Zhang Nan was because Zhang Nan had a hard touch. Li Min was a programmer through and through, not a professional crisis handler.

The two hung up. Fang Hong then gave Zhang Nan a call, explained the situation to her, and told her to tighten management over the gaming division.

"President Fang, the gaming division's response is way too slow, isn't it? This must have been going on for a while." Zhang Nan was dead serious too.

A problem in the gaming division was a big problem—Chang'e Digital Tech's development capital was propped up by the gaming division.

If mishandled, the capital chain could snap.

"They're a bunch of tech nerds, not people who specialize in this stuff. You can't ask for that much. Go tighten internal management." Fang Hong said.

First get internal management in order, then deal with external threats.

If the outside was in full swing and it turned out the problem was internal, that would be a laughingstock.

After hanging up, Fang Hong sat in a daze thinking, trying to recall what move Tencent would make this year so he could preempt it.

Otherwise, as the scale kept growing, Tencent's entry into the entertainment sector would create competition too—hard to handle.

Thinking of this, he flipped through the information again. These things helped him remember—seeing a certain news item would let him recall what was about to happen next.

For example, Shanda delisting from Nasdaq, completing its privatization, Chen Tianqiao retiring, and divesting a series of business segments.

From that he could recall Tencent taking over Shanda's entertainment segment, perfectly absorbing part of the gaming business, and so on.

One could say that man's exit propelled the rapid rise of Alibaba and Tencent—no more competition.

In earlier years Shanda was incredibly bullish, buying and buying—from games to entertainment to video. The once-famous Ku6 was theirs.

But that man seemed to have no heart for running the business, lost that "fire." Fang Hong didn't know if it was a matter of limited ability or what.

In his eyes, Shanda had taken many wrong turns, but they had games to prop them up and could afford the losses.

Don't feel sorry for Chen Tianqiao or anything—he's not short on cash. When divesting Shanda, he said himself last year that he sat on nearly 60 billion in cash assets.

Last year, 2012, that was about 8.5 billion US dollars—enough money to buy a Nvidia nowadays, all thanks to games.

Just as Fang Hong was flipping through the information, Liu Tianxian walked into the office carrying her bag, waving and saying, "Still busy? Come on, time to get off work."

Fang Hong closed his laptop and stood up, grabbed his jacket and was just about to leave, when he saw Chen Zhixi walk in.

"Sister Chen, you're about to get off work—still have something going on?" Liu Tianxian said.

"Got something to discuss with President Fang. Hey, how's your familiarity with that role coming along?" Chen Zhixi chatted.

"Getting familiar with it—I'm afraid I'll mess it up and hold everyone back." Liu Tianxian patted her head, looking quite troubled.

Art films demand a lot of acting skill, and there's no big plot conflict—it's all about the acting, the feeling it gives people.

"No worries, acting skill comes from doing it over and over. Back when we filmed, we'd shoot a single scene many times—naturally you'd find the feel." Chen Zhixi shared her experience.

For a low-budget film, it didn't matter to Jade Rabbit—even if they overspent, how much could they overspend?

"That'd hold things up though." Liu Tianxian said.

"Thicken your skin. Don't be afraid of being talked about, don't be afraid of being scolded. Ask the director for guidance more. If the film succeeds, people will thank you; if it fails, even if you're a nice guy, people won't care for you." Chen Zhixi said.

Liu Tianxian smiled, feeling she made sense—those directors made a mess of the film and then blamed her acting.

But this kind of advice only applied to big shots like Chen Zhixi and Liu Tianxian. What small-time actor would dare go ask the director for guidance?

Whatever they said to shoot, that's how you shot; whatever they said to do, that's how you did it. Liu Tianxian used to be like that—always following the director's demands.

Fang Hong said to Liu Tianxian, "Have a seat for a bit."

Liu Tianxian nodded, not wanting to disturb their discussion, and found a sofa to sit on.

(End of chapter)