Chapter 364

The three of them discussed the construction of the film and television production base, but in essence, they first focused on completing the Virtual Reality Studio.

However, Gravity isn't easy to shoot—it requires zero-gravity filming.

Other specialized auxiliary equipment is needed for filming; we'll hold a discussion later to let the cinematographers state their requirements.

Achieving zero gravity involves techniques—it can't be done haphazardly.

"By the way, how's the TV drama situation lately?" Fang Hong asked.

Variety and TV dramas have always been the two sectors managed by Chen Zhixi; Fang Hong rarely interfered in them, but he still inquired when he had time.

To avoid going off-plan and derailing things.

"We just finished airing Men Di; its initial broadcast rights sold for 2 million per episode. We plan to delay The Heirs for half a year and air other dramas first, because Zhao Xiaodao's popularity has been extremely high these past two months—we need to stagger the scheduling." Chen Zhixi said.

The Heirs stars Zhao Xiaodao, and her Legend of Lu Zhen remains highly popular, with its momentum still unabsorbed.

To maximize profits, staggering her dramas is normal—TV dramas also carry talent agency benefits.

We must consider star agency effectiveness and other factors.

Men Di aired in May; now it's July—exactly two months later. Directed by Ding Hei, starring Zhou Yiwei and Yu Mingjia.

Zhou Yiwei is a Yutu artist, so we naturally promote our own talent; besides, his age matches Yu Mingjia's, making him perfect for the role.

Two million per episode, 36 episodes—that's 72 million!

This drama wasn't exclusively sold to Hunan Satellite TV; they prefer idol dramas and have little interest in realistic themes, offering low prices.

But other satellite TV stations showed strong interest, with dozens competing to buy it; ultimately, Anhui Satellite TV, Henan Satellite TV, Shenzhen Satellite TV, Sichuan Satellite TV, and Shandong Satellite TV purchased it.

We couldn't possibly sell it to dozens—other stations could only acquire second-run rights; the total revenue from first-broadcast rights reached 360 million.

Split among five stations, the pressure won't be too heavy.

After all, it's directed by a renowned director and produced by Yutu Investment—it's still reliable.

But after airing, the ratings weren't ideal: the first two episodes achieved only 0.522% viewership, ranking 13th in the same period.

By the third and fourth episodes, viewership rose to 0.632%, climbing to around 8th place.

The ranking remained mostly stable afterward; only in the final dozen or so episodes did it settle at 2nd place, with viewership finally rising.

Despite this, the drama generated high discussion online and had strong topic appeal.

The drama's investment was 130 million; it made money, and it couldn't have failed to make money.

Nowadays, you can make money just by shooting any TV drama—it's a phase of rising copyright fees; whether sold to TV stations or online platforms, there's profit.

"That's fine."

Fang Hong nodded and said nothing.

As long as we proceed methodically, Chang'e Video can continuously release new dramas, maintain traffic, and gradually cultivate user habits.

We now need to accumulate content and constantly expand our library; otherwise, we won't be able to compete with other video platforms later.

Currently, all video platforms are in a white-hot competition, but Chang'e Video doesn't compete—it adopts an ostrich policy, ignoring everything.

Currently, Sohu Video has climbed to first place, with a monthly user coverage of 258 million—extremely impressive.

LeEco, which signed Lao Mouzi, is also thriving; LeEco not only collaborates with Lao Mouzi but has also attracted numerous stars.

More than ten stars—including Sun Honglei, Jia Nailiang, Zhou Xun, Liu Tao, Qin Lan, Qu Ying, and Huo Siyan—have invested.

Previously, Fang Hong had Huang Bing remind Yutu stars not to engage in financial ties with this video platform.

It was just a reminder, no demands made.

He knew it was a trap, but others didn't; if they insisted on self-destruction, he couldn't stop them.

Right now, Chang'e Video is keeping a low profile in every aspect—avoiding confrontation, not being the first to stick out, waiting quietly for market changes.

Only because Fang Hong knows most will die, and ultimately, BAT will prevail.

Fang Hong took a document from the cabinet and handed it to the two of them: "This is for you."

"What's this?" Chen Zhixi took it and looked—it had text on it.

Meng Jun also leaned over to look: it was the Yutu Talent Support Subsidy Plan.

"This is the newly issued document—the government's talent preferential policy for our company. But slots are limited; leadership shouldn't take them—give them to employees who've contributed significantly and have real needs," Fang Hong said.

It was the same policy he'd discussed with Zhang Hongsen three months ago.

It took long enough—only now did it come through.

Chen Zhixi flipped through the document: each department had roughly three to six slots.

Her film division had six slots, finance had three, animation and best special effects each had six, and the Literature Association also had three.

A total of 24 slots—these individuals can enjoy preferential policies such as household registration, housing subsidies, living allowances, and children's education benefits.

These benefits are useless to leaders—they're already very wealthy; in Beijing, money solves most problems, and they can easily afford elite schools for their children.

But for ordinary people, they're still very useful—no one turns down money, and no one rejects good education for their children.

Whoever contributed more gets it; those without contribution get nothing.

After reading it, Chen Zhixi and Meng Jun exchanged glances.

"Take it back and choose slowly; submit your list when ready—no rush," Fang Hong said.

They took three months to deliberate on the document—taking a month or two to choose is perfectly normal.

"Alright, then we'll leave first," Chen Zhixi said, picking up the document and standing.

With that settled, after the two left, Fang Hong sent an email to every member of the Yutu board.

It was about the support subsidy slots—Chen Zhixi and Meng Jun knew, but other departments didn't.

We still need to notify Yao Qi, General Manager of Best Special Effects; Shi Zhimao, head of the Animation Department; and the president and vice president of the Literature Association—no favoritism allowed.

Slot numbers differ because department sizes differ—for example, finance has only ten to twenty people; giving them too many slots wouldn't make sense.

As for Bona Shares, set it aside for now—we don't yet have enough money or strength to make them call us "Dad."

Institutions aren't easily sold; either offer a premium to entice them, or provide other benefits.

How could you let go so easily!

After sending the email, Fang Hong went to the Animation Department; the animation division had invested 400 million, the largest investment among all business segments.

It had taken three years, and still no visible results.

With so much money invested and so much time spent, he must at least see some progress; otherwise, pouring all this money into nothing would be utterly tragic.

The Animation Department now had over a thousand people.

In a hundreds-of-square-meter office, rows of computers were lined with animation staff—men and women, all with different faces.

Other staff members moved about, coordinating, creating a scene of constant bustle.

Shi Zhi Mao led Fang Hong behind one of the staff members, where three computers each displayed Baymax from Big Hero 6.

There were skeletal models, texture maps, and rendered action scenes.

"This is our rendered Baymax character, animated based on the design you provided."

Shi Zhi Mao tapped the staff member on the shoulder and said, "Play the animation for General Manager Fang."

"Got it," the staff member nodded.

Soon, one screen showed Baymax performing various movements—raising his hand, walking, blinking—looking like a robot.

The original design always looked like a robot.

"Not bad," Fang Hong thought it was cute and endearing.

If nothing goes wrong, when this animation is released, just the character rights alone could earn him hundreds of millions—measured in U. S. dollars.

In his past life, this image had sold like crazy.

Shi Zhi Mao walked to another animator behind him: "This is the male lead."

Fang Hong saw it matched the image from his past life—he'd designed it himself, and even provided the plot.

He copied the original directly, with zero psychological burden.

"Zoom in on the character," Fang Hong gestured to the staff member.

The staff member followed the instruction, zooming in—the character's movements continued smoothly.

"Make the character cuter; after all, it's for all ages," Fang Hong instructed.

"We've already considered that. Every motion is being refined—machines are machines, but human movements must be simulated realistically," Shi Zhi Mao explained.

Fang Hong nodded; she understood.

"That's all? No completed plot scenes yet?" Fang Hong asked.

"Yes, over here," Shi Zhi Mao walked forward.

Fang Hong followed; staff members occasionally greeted them along the way.

There were simply too many people; they'd rented two more offices just for animation work.

The two arrived before a large screen; Shi Zhi Mao signaled a staff member to play the completed animation, and Big Hero 6 immediately appeared on the screen.

No sound—only subtitles. This was the version without dubbing; dubbing required Hollywood actors.

Domestic voice actors couldn't capture that tone.

Fang Hong could guess the general plot from the subtitles—it matched his past-life version closely, with only minor differences: the visuals weren't detailed enough.

He said nothing, arms crossed, head raised, watching silently until the end, then said: "Not detailed enough. Need to be even finer—we're aiming for the big screen; every detail must be perfect."

"We're already optimizing the rendering as much as possible. To break through further, we need to build rendering servers and boost graphics processing power," Shi Zhi Mao said.

Relying solely on computers has limitations.

"Then build them. If a problem can be solved, solve it—don't delay," Fang Hong understood—it was about graphics cards.

Graphics cards aren't expensive now, and haven't fully taken center stage yet.

"Got it," Shi Zhi Mao nodded.

"When will this animation be finished?" Fang Hong asked.

"Around mid-next year," Shi Zhi Mao gave a date.

Fang Hong felt a headache—another one or two hundred million would be needed.

But he said nothing; he'd already invested—could he really quit halfway?

Just as Fang Hong was chatting, his phone buzzed. He picked it up—it was a private photo from Liu Tianxian, the kind never meant for public release.

Usually life photos, behind-the-scenes work shots, or family outings—none of these were open to the public.

Unless someone stole the photos, that was another matter.

As he looked at it, his phone rang—the screen showed "Liu" calling.

Fang Hong signaled Shi Zhi Mao to get back to work, then walked away and answered the call.

Liu Tianxian's sweet, cloying voice came through: "Xiao Honghong, what are you doing?"

"Of course I'm at work. What else would I do? You never take me out," Fang Hong complained.

"Go away. You didn't go—you're not my fault," Liu Tianxian huffed.

She often invited this man out; usually he came out only once or twice a month.

"This time you didn't even call me," Fang Hong said.

"Oh, so one time you didn't get called, and now you're holding a grudge? Fine—I'll call you every day to go shopping, to walk the streets. If you don't come, I'll beat you to death," Liu Tianxian threatened.

"Hehehe," Fang Hong laughed awkwardly.

"Look at you—pull and you won't move, beat you and you retreat," Liu Tianxian said.

Fang Hong fell silent, stung. He was just bored—he needed Liu Tianxian to scold him a little, then he'd feel better.

Liu Tianxian didn't press it, returning to her cheerful tone: "I've got one bad piece of news and one good piece of news—which do you want to hear first?"

"Good news first," Fang Hong said.

"Hey, why don't you hear the bad news first, then cheer yourself up with the good?" Liu Tianxian said.

"I learned it from you—I don't like hearing bad news, only good news," Fang Hong said.

"You don't learn the good stuff, only the bad."

Liu Tianxian scolded him, then went on: "The good news is, my uncle is back in Wuhan, and he's agreed to handle the loan for you. Go back and wait for his word. When the time comes, he'll send someone over to process it for you, so get your documents ready."

"Aiya, still gotta rely on my little Feifei—without my little Feifei, I just can't manage," Fang Hong said with a grin, laying on the flattery.

Something that hadn't been done in so long was finally settled by Liu Tianxian, though there was still some distance to go before the funds were actually disbursed.

"Of course—take a good look at who I am," Liu Tianxian said, looking quite pleased with herself.

"You're my idol," Fang Hong said, tossing out the sweet talk as if it cost nothing.

"Hehehe."

Liu Tianxian, flattered into a good mood, went on: "Then let me tell you the bad news!"

"Don't want to hear it," Fang Hong said.

"Hey, you—do you really only listen to the nice stuff?" Liu Tianxian said.

"Then go ahead and say it!" Fang Hong said.

"I don't feel like saying it now. I'm angry," Liu Tianxian said, in a huff.

"How can you be like a little girl?"

"I'm just like this, always have been. You never really got to know the real me—you don't understand me at all anymore," Liu Tianxian began throwing a childish tantrum.

Holy crap, Fang Hong was dumbfounded—could it really go like this?

"Fine, I'm wrong."

"Then tell me where you're wrong," Liu Tianxian said.

"Wherever you say I'm wrong, that's where I'm wrong. I listen to you," Fang Hong said, backing down.

"You're just smashing the pot and breaking the jar, aren't you! Not even a little struggle, not even a single retort," Liu Tianxian said.

"How could I possibly retort?"

"Of course you can retort—I'm very democratic, and very understanding too," Liu Tianxian said, her voice sweet, coaxing him along gently.

"Then I'm not wrong," Fang Hong said.

"Are you a pig? I tell you to retort and you really retort. Let me tell you—I'm back. Come find me tonight. If you don't show up, just wait and see how I deal with you," Liu Tianxian said sharply, then hung up the phone, the bad news left unsaid.

Fang Hong stared at his phone and shook his head. Do all women have something wrong with them?

Stuck on the chapter—here's one chapter first

(End of this chapter)