Chapter 398: Playing Politics

Youku and other video platforms simply didn't take Yutu seriously—why? Because Yutu was from the film and television circle, a content producer, and too small in scale.

Not only was it small in scale, but Yutu operated as a manufacturer, while Youku operated as a platform.

Manufacturers seeking to sell their goods naturally turn to platforms.

Thus, the two sides were not on equal footing: there were only a few powerful platforms, but countless manufacturers—if you won't distribute, others will.

They could use their own traffic to nurture one distributor after another.

This is also why, after the landscape stabilized, BAT began leveraging the platform advantages of iQiyi, Youku, and Tencent Video to carve up the film and television production industry, forming a tripartite division.

Although content is king, someone still has to buy it—and it's the TV networks' own fault for being weak.

They handed over their share to these capital interests.

But this manufacturer wasn't simple—it was backed by the massive Beijing Film Academy system. What was Beijing Film Academy? It housed a large number of expert professors with authority over content interpretation.

And these experts controlled the rules governing content.

Let me put it this way: whether your film or TV drama could be screened, how much of it could be shown, and how much had to be cut—all required their meetings and decisions, meaning rule-making.

Sun Lijun wasn't just the vice-principal of Beijing Film Academy or a mere member of the Copyright Protection Center—he was also vice-chairman of the Animation Society, standing committee member of the Television Artists Association, vice-chairman of the Software Society's Gaming Division, and vice-chairman of the Filmmakers Association, wearing a pile of titles.

Anything related to content—film, television, animation—he could weigh in on, that's how it was.

So when Sun Lijun publicly supported Yutu's copyright defense, Youku and other video platforms fell completely silent.

Gu Yongjiang even deleted his own Weibo post saying "That's it?"

This kind of off-board maneuvering was insane.

You play capital with him, he plays politics with you—who can stand up to that?

Netizens were just watching the show—it was hilarious: Youku brought Alibaba, Chang'e brought Yutu, and Yutu brought the experts.

Now it seemed the experts were more powerful—Youku had backed down.

But the experts didn't publicly support Chang'e, because Chang'e hadn't followed the rules either—they'd copied content and were also in the wrong.

Supporting Yutu was right—Yutu was the producer, the source of content copyright.

Other video platforms like iQiyi and Tencent were also watching, waiting to see whether authorities would again regulate copyright and inspect them.

Every time such action occurred, they had to take down massive amounts of content.

None of these parties had participated in piracy or copying, because they knew such behavior would eventually invite the iron fist—they simply didn't respect the Copyright Law.

Meanwhile, major domestic film and television production companies—Huayi, Enlight, Huace, Perfect World, Ciwen, Xinli—were also paying attention.

Because a healthy copyright system benefited them too: they could sell copyright at higher prices and earn more money.

To be honest, they stood with Yutu—this copyright battle had hurt them too, since the two sides' rampant copying inevitably affected innocent parties.

They just stayed silent—they couldn't afford to offend anyone, so they let Yutu take the front line while they watched quietly.

They thought well, but never achieved anything great—companies unwilling to step forward couldn't become banners or benchmarks, only hiding behind others to reap benefits.

For example, during the conquest phase—if you don't become a banner, don't issue a proclamation, how can you attract talented people?

But one company spoke up: a China Film Group spokesperson said, "China Film Group will fully launch an anti-piracy campaign to safeguard film copyright."

That meant China Film Group also supported this copyright defense.

It was a mild statement, but after the remarks, it still forced some to rein themselves in.

Seeing the market suddenly fall silent—aside from media and netizens, all relevant video platforms stopped speaking, just like Chang'e Technology had done.

Chen Zhixi posted again: "Defending copyright is every film and television professional's duty. Our company is gathering evidence of infringing parties—if they fail to delete infringing content within the deadline, we will file complaints with relevant authorities."

If the complaint succeeded, the authorities would act—after all, this incident had grown so large, with so many blatant copies, it was impossible to ignore.

The economic losses and damage to the film industry and internet regulation were enormous—it rendered the authorities' prior efforts meaningless.

If the authorities took it seriously, they might shut down operations for rectification—until you recognized your mistake, you couldn't reopen.

Additionally, tools and equipment would be seized, illegal gains confiscated, fines imposed, and apologies issued to victims.

Tools and equipment meant computers, databases, and such; illegal gains couldn't be quantified; fines were decided by the authorities.

But no complaint had been filed yet, because Bilibili had also copied the content—if they went that far, it would be self-harm.

Chang'e Technology could afford it, though—because Bilibili was originally built by Up Masters, and the copied content was always meant to be deleted anyway.

Worst case, they'd be shut down for rectification—small platforms turn around easily; could Youku turn around so easily?

Youku Video was the core platform of Youku Group—without Youku, Youku Group wasn't Youku.

Chang'e Video hadn't participated at all; even if Bilibili vanished, Chang'e Technology still existed—they'd planned ahead.

After this post was published and republished by media, it quickly gained support from Yang Yuanying, Xie Xiaojin, Lin Tao, Xu Jiandong, Hou Kemin, Xue Xiaolu, Cao Baoping, and a host of expert professors.

Someone openly stated at a meeting: "Pirating others' content is banditry."

The wording was extremely harsh.

Some sat on review committees, others in the State Administration of Radio and Television, others in the Publicity Department, others in various associations, bureaus, and divisions—all wearing piles of titles.

Some even received special subsidies—this lineup put immense pressure on Youku's side, like poking a hornet's nest.

Some smaller film and television platforms had quietly deleted Chang'e Video's content—they couldn't bear the pressure!

Once others finished their meetings and deliberations, the iron fist would strike at any moment—one blow and they'd be done for.

If they ordered you to shut down for rectification, could you survive?

Right now you're still alive, still getting by—but if this continues, you can't get by anymore.

Youku was big and well-established, possibly with backstage connections; these others had no connections and weren't big or well-established.

They hadn't realized that behind the unassuming Yutu stood so many expert professors from Beijing Film Academy—and these professors held the authority to interpret what could be played on video platforms. Who could they appeal to?

What they didn't know was that Yutu had paid these Beijing Film Academy professors substantial sums over the years—most of them served as consultants for Yutu, providing technical support.

Didn't Tencent and Cat Factory play the same game?

This made those in the entertainment industry see Yutu's tangled web of influence—no wonder the Principal was so arrogant—he truly had the capital to be so.

One could only say the Principal saw far ahead—he probably anticipated this day long ago. In fact, Fang Hong's strategy was meant to secure Yutu's legacy for generations—but unexpectedly, he ended up protecting Chang'e instead.

Of course, this harm doesn't touch those in the entertainment industry—they're the ones who create content, and they haven't done anything wrong; the iron fist won't land on them.

They have nothing to do with it, and it causes no harm unless the content they produce crosses the line.

Gu Yongjiang couldn't bear it anymore; with the iron fist yet to fall, he wanted to negotiate peace with Chang'e Video.

But this matter required Jack Ma's approval—he supported Gu Yongjiang in doing this; otherwise, Gu Yongjiang would have already surrendered, for he long realized that fighting each other only fed the opponent's momentum.

Clearly, the opponent was weaker; yet this feud made them wildly famous, and now everyone knew there was a Chang'e Technology in China.

Chang'e Technology owns Chang'e Video and Bilibili! "Hey, General Manager Ma, we need to talk to them—this kind of fighting is causing too much damage." Gu Yongjiang dialed the phone.

"I understand. Do as you think best." Jack Ma said nothing.

He also knew this couldn't be dragged out—continued resistance would break Youku, which had already violated the rules.

"Didn't expect the Principal to be so deeply hidden—he's won another round against us." Jack Ma hung up, wearing a self-deprecating smile.

In truth, he found it amusing—no one had made him suffer two setbacks in a row for a long time.

"When you play capital against him, he plays politics. That's just how it is." It was Fan Luyuan speaking, wearing black-rimmed glasses, looking quite honest.

This man's name is Mu Huali—he created Yu'e Bao, later becoming the leader of Alibaba's Digital Entertainment division.

He had been closely watching this affair, assuming the opponent would be worn down by their pressure, but never expected them to bring in experts and professors to force a ceasefire.

Very ruthless. Very decisive.

"The internet circle will get lively from now on," Jack Ma sighed.

"Why say that? What are they relying on? Toutiao? Bilibili? Chang'e Video? Games? Forgive my poor vision—I see no future for Chang'e." Fan Luyuan believed the opponent posed no threat to them.

Social media belongs to Tencent, e-commerce to Alibaba—what other way could rival them? He simply couldn't imagine one.

Moreover, the opponent wasn't even in the same league as Alibaba.

Even if you gave them time, he saw no growth point for Chang'e Technology.

Information distribution like Toutiao could never grow large—UC already offered this function, and did it better.

Besides, this thing is easy to copy; copy it and you immediately divert traffic.

Bilibili and Chang'e Video are like YouTube—money-burning ventures; without capital to fill the gap, they'll never amount to anything.

Unless the opponent achieves something huge in gaming—but gaming has always been limited, never truly mainstream.

"Sometimes you must look at the person, not what they're doing now. You never know what innovations they might produce—it's unknown."

Jack Ma handed over the documents on the desk: "This man has enormous ambition. If you read his resume, you'll see he's never been a man who settles down."

In truth, the real Jack Ma wasn't as flamboyant as he appeared on stage—he was quite serious in real life.

Fan Luyuan flipped through the documents and exclaimed: "Wow—he really fought his way through thorns!"

"This man never settles down—he always finds trouble for you, because you're blocking his path. He's constantly challenging anyone who threatens him, so you can't judge his future—you never know what's going on in his head." Jack Ma tapped his temple.

"The Demon-Slaying Chapter was just like that—he didn't provoke you, yet he went out of his way to dig a pit for you."

Actually, he had provoked them—Jack Ma just didn't know.

After hearing General Manager Ma's words, Fan Luyuan fell silent, then said: "That's normal. We were the same once—old forces clung to privilege and comfort, while new forces had to challenge to claim a place."

Alibaba once fought fiercely against the then-dominant e-commerce giants, EachNet and eBay—this was perfectly legitimate. If you didn't challenge them, they'd challenge you.

The market is this big, the cake is right here—someone gets more, someone gets less; there must be a struggle.

He added: "But I'm curious—where did he get so much money? I saw no signs of funding or capital investment."

Any funding or capital investment would have reached our ears—but Chang'e Technology showed none.

Internet companies like this consume enormous sums.

"The bank! He's backed by a powerful woman," Jack Ma said.

To ordinary people, this was a secret—but to someone at his level, it wasn't secret at all; if you wanted to find out, you could.

Besides, they never tried to hide it.

After greeting Jack Ma, Gu Yongjiang called Zhang Nan of Chang'e Technology, asking him to bring the Principal for a meeting to settle this matter.

"We can talk—but you come to us." Zhang Nan naturally wanted to assert control.

Going to meet them versus having them come to you are two completely different things—going means you're begging for initiative; having them come means they're begging for initiative.

"Alright, I'll prepare to come over." Gu Yongjiang understood the principle, but had no choice—he set off for Yutu.

After all, they were both in Beijing—it wasn't far.

If they didn't resolve this themselves, the experts and professors would meet and resolve them—so they had to be humble.

"Gu Yongjiang wants to meet us," Zhang Nan reported to Fang Hong and Zhang Yiming.

"You handle the talks. Our goal is simple—ceasefire," Fang Hong said.

Zhang Yiming looked at him: "Aren't you showing up?"

"I'm busy," Fang Hong said.

If Jack Ma came, he'd meet him—after all, the CEO of Youku, Jack Ma's subordinate, deserved his presence. But to meet Gu Yongjiang? That would be overestimating him.

In short, if Jack Ma doesn't show, why should he?

If one day Jack Ma comes to negotiate, he'll be the one negotiating with him.

This war isn't over—it's still going.

Zhang Yiming said nothing—he understood Fang Hong's meaning: upholding his status.

The next day, Gu Yongjiang wasted no time—he brought two men and arrived quickly at Chang'e Technology's headquarters.

He was greeted by Zhang Nan, Zhang Yiming, and their team. After mutual introductions, Gu Yongjiang glanced around and asked curiously: "Where's the Principal?"

"Oh, the Principal went with his girlfriend—she just got back two days ago, he has no time," Zhang Yiming said.

This embarrassed Gu Yongjiang—he was a General Manager himself, came in person, yet the Principal wouldn't even see him.

Clearly, they didn't treat him as an equal—they looked down on him.

Though furious inside, the matter still had to be discussed.

Zhang Nan fully oversaw the negotiations, while Zhang Yiming merely observed and did not participate; neither side discussed much—just deleting each other's infringing content.

Then, under friendly terms, mutually non-aggression!

After the talks, both sides must issue a joint statement to quell the situation and avoid letting the iron fist come down.

In fact, Fang Hong didn't want the iron fist to come down either—if it did, Bilibili might get smashed along with it, so the best way was to stop the war.

One more chapter

(End of Chapter)