Chapter 382: Cutting Flesh to Swap Showtimes

The study wasn't large, and since it was sealed off, it felt deafening.

Liu Tianxian walked into the room: "Why are you still listening to such old songs?!"

"Huh?!"

Fang Hong saw her but didn't hear what she said.

Liu Tianxian walked over to his side, about to lean down and repeat it into his ear, when she let out a startled "Ah!"—suddenly, Fang Hong pulled her into his arms.

"You're trying to kill me," Liu Tianxian said, raising her hand to hit him, but he seized her wrist.

Fang Hong brought her hand to his nose and sniffed it, singing: "If I hadn't smelled the lingering perfume on your hands, I'd never have tossed and turned unable to sleep, thinking of your beauty, breathing your scent, torn between ice and fire."

Hearing her sing so bluntly, Liu Tianxian blushed slightly and gave him a glare.

Fang Hong gently stroked her cheek, soft and smooth, and looked down at her: "Was that good?"

"It's okay."

Liu Tianxian sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck: "Why the sudden urge to sing here alone?"

"I often listen to songs quietly by myself; when I'm lonely, I sing out loud—it releases the gloom inside me."

Fang Hong turned off the speaker and added: "You relieve stress by running; I relieve it by singing."

"Oh!" Liu Tianxian nodded, understanding—this man was truly lonely, with no friends.

No one could keep up with him!

It was normal—he rose too fast; those who once knew him, who once laughed and played with him, were now far behind.

Only she had remained unchanged from the beginning; they were lovers, so their bond was different, everyone else were subordinates.

Liu Tianxian wore long pants and a tight-knit long-sleeve top that accentuated her figure, making her waist look especially slender.

She already had wide hips, so even slightly tight clothing made her waist look unnaturally thin.

Fang Hong placed his hand on her waist, lightly caressing it: "Sing for me."

"Sure!" Liu Tianxian looked at him: "What song do you want to hear?"

"Whatever." Fang Hong said.

Liu Tianxian tilted her head, thinking: "Red Beans. I'll sing you Red Beans."

"Fine." Fang Hong nodded.

"Ahem!" Liu Tianxian cleared her throat and began: "We haven't even properly felt the climate when snow blooms, yet we tremble together."

Her voice was pure, blended with that soft, high-pitched tone, giving a uniquely delicate, floating, almost weightless feeling.

She sang only one verse, then stopped.

"I never thought you'd be so fierce in daily life but sing so airy," Fang Hong teased.

"I'm fierce?" Liu Tianxian's eyes turned sharp.

"You are—you either hit or yell, yell or glare, you're terrifying."

"Then go find someone else—I'm not stopping you," Liu Tianxian turned her head away, refusing to look at him, yet her body didn't move, still pressed close.

"No chance left," Fang Hong shook his head.

"There is—you still have a chance," Liu Tianxian snapped.

"My whole heart belongs to you—why not give it back?" Fang Hong extended his hand.

"Can't return it—it's already confiscated," Liu Tianxian looked at him, smiling—this was clearly a love confession.

"Then I'll take it back—see, my Dragon Claw Hand," Fang Hong curled his fingers into a claw and playfully reached toward her chest.

"Get lost!" Liu Tianxian slapped his hand—he loved acting silly.

Fang Hong chuckled, resting his chin on her shoulder and inhaling her scent.

Liu Tianxian glanced at his laptop screen, which showed a game interface—highly detailed—and she nudged the mouse: "You're playing a game?"

"Yeah, it's a bit laggy—buy me a GPU," Fang Hong was playing a AAA game.

"What's a GPU?" Liu Tianxian asked, puzzled.

People unfamiliar with computers truly didn't know what a GPU was—they only knew processors.

GPUs hadn't yet gained widespread fame.

"A computer component," Fang Hong said.

"Oh, you never even pampered me—why should I buy it for you?" Liu Tianxian pouted.

"Xiao Feifei, Xiao Xianxian, Xiao Xixi, Auntie," Fang Hong cooed.

"Ugh, so gross—I can't take it," Liu Tianxian shuddered, hunched her shoulders, pretending to be cold.

"So will you buy it for me?" Fang Hong grinned.

"Fine, I'll buy it for you," Liu Tianxian still doted on him.

After playfully bickering, Fang Hong noticed her neck and pointed: "Why haven't you removed that mole here?"

"Why remove it? I was born with it—it doesn't bother me," Liu Tianxian shrugged.

"It ruins your beauty—look, everyone else's necks are perfectly white," Fang Hong said.

"I don't think it's ugly—I think it's nice," Liu Tianxian looked at him: "You used to say this mole was sexy—now you're complaining?"

"I'm not complaining," Fang Hong shook his head.

During the National Day holiday, the film box office battle raged fiercely, with all three studios pushing hard propaganda: The Shen Du Long Wang claimed to be a 3D film plus Xu Laoguai; Escape claimed to be shot in 3D; Lucky Key only called itself a comedy.

This was exactly what Chen Zhixi excelled at—focusing solely on the film's unique traits, never overhyping its quality, appealing to people rather than content.

Because audiences watch films to feel emotion—either excitement, laughter, or tears; they rarely care about grand spectacle.

So her promotional videos weren't like other films' flashy, high-energy trailers.

Instead, she released funny clips—like Xiao Yang's exaggerated kiss with his ex-girlfriend, which was hilariously over-the-top.

Under this atmosphere, audiences voted with their feet: Lucky Key's opening day box office was 31.56 million; Shen Du Long Wang earned 55.23 million; Escape pulled in only 10.51 million.

Not to mention the other films — the decent ones cost ten million or so, the bad ones around a million. *Escape* is out of the running.

The screening schedules, though, are quite interesting: *Lucky Key* takes up 16%; *Shen Du Long Wang* 33%; *Escape* 14%; the remaining screenings belong to others.

A great director is a great director — the treatment really is different, sitting in a position far ahead of the pack.

Under these circumstances, *Lucky Key* naturally bumped its screenings up to 20%; *Shen Du Long Wang* also added 2%.

That means the other films' screenings have to shrink, leaving only 31% of the space.

This left the other film producers rather sullen — out of nowhere they'd lost 6% of their screenings.

When two giants clash, that's how it is — the rest are just cannon fodder!

The word of mouth on the films is out too. The criticism of *Shen Du Long Wang* goes like this:

"Pure, utter garbage trash film, boring beyond belief. After watching it, Zhao Youting is blacklisted for life."

"What a ridiculous thing — the divine capital Luoyang is actually by the sea."

"Don't expect any acting in a film with Da Baobei — just look at the face and that's enough. Take it seriously and you lose. And she's still comparing herself to Liu Tianxian — where does the courage come from?"

"Does China's new generation really have no other actors?"

"Who says there aren't? There are plenty of Jade Rabbits — they just don't use them, that's all."

"So sick of Zhao Youting — mung-bean eyes, dead-fish face, a dialogue machine."

"Honestly don't know what I was thinking, going to watch a Huayi film just to see that glorious Chang'an city in 3D — and in the end I was floored by the rubbish 3D of that water monster."

"You people keep saying *Now You See Me* is bad, but yours is even worse than *Now You See Me*. How should I put it — *Now You See Me* at least has some plot, a twist at the end, top-tier visuals, and the audience enjoys it. What does yours have?!"

"Don't watch, don't watch, don't watch!"

"."

On every major social media platform, this film is drowned in complaints. Even Douban only gave it 6.3, 0.2 lower than the original timeline.

Of course, Jade Rabbit's role is in there — only by making the other side stink can the share be given up.

Now Jade Rabbit no longer bothers with schemes and tricks — she just smears them openly and above-board.

Of course, there are plenty of complaints about *Lucky Key* too.

"Only the first half is fun; the second half goes off the rails, and that ending is just unhinged."

"IQ offline!"

"Pretty boring!"

"The plot feels like a joke."

"So bad, so bad, so bad — turning a five-star story into a two-star one, that takes real talent."

"Garbage, garbage, garbage — don't watch!"

"."

*Lucky Key*, complaints aside, rarely gets any criticism of its actors.

The same goes for the major social media platforms — a wave of complaints. Of course, Huayi has a hand in this too; the thinking is simple: kill or cripple the opponent, and the share is theirs.

As for the others — *Escape*, *White Fox* and the rest — they weren't even on the radar, already squeezed out.

Yu Pangzi behaved himself, didn't say a single word — if he had, he'd have offended Xu Laoguai.

Bona lives off the Hong Kong circle.

The two Xiao Wangs of Huayi aren't like Yu Pangzi, getting carried away and thinking they're hot stuff, then running their mouths in public. They're just closely watching the box-office developments — and the stock market.

Whether their stock can climb to 50 billion depends on this National Day window.

The second day's box office came out: *Lucky Key* 35.49 million; *Shen Du Long Wang* 37.56 million.

No need to mention the others — they're already out. The National Day window is just a showdown between these two.

*Shen Du Long Wang*'s box office dropped, so its screenings had to be cut accordingly — down 4%, to 31%.

*Lucky Key* didn't increase its screenings, giving the slots to other films. This made the other producers quite happy — the National Day holiday is almost here.

On the third day, the eve of National Day, the 30th, *Lucky Key*'s box office broke through to 43.21 million, climbing steadily.

Meanwhile *Shen Du Long Wang* had 36.09 million, a slight dip.

The two sides were going blow for blow, neither willing to back down — can't be helped, they've got the money, and they bring their own traffic.

Under these circumstances, *Lucky Key* should have increased its screenings while *Shen Du Long Wang* should have cut theirs, continuing to free up space for other films.

But on this day, media reported: "Huayi has proactively lowered its box-office revenue split with theaters from 43% to 30% — the studio takes 30%, theaters take 70% — hoping to trade a 13% concession in box-office revenue for screening support from cinemas and theater chains."

This is an unprecedented, lavish move of cutting one's own flesh to buy screenings — even the earlier *Demons* didn't go this far.

(End of chapter)