Chapter 402

The annual New Year Slot is coming again, the time when major studios compete fiercely and show off their prowess.

All of them have long entered the propaganda phase, since late November is when the New Year Slot begins its promotional rollout, typically starting a month or half a month in advance.

Among them is Liu Tianxian's *Four Famous Shops 2*.

This year, Yutu Film has two movies: one is *Dad Where Are We Going*, which was originally meant to be led by Yutu itself, but for reputation's sake, it was handed over to Tu Piaopiao and Tianyu to lead.

The movie was shot in just one week, with a budget of around twenty million, most of which went to actor salaries, with little left for anything else.

Yutu had no money—only provided copyright and the project, acting as the initiator with a 30% share; the remaining 70% was split between the other two companies.

It's a guaranteed money-maker, practically a gift—they should be satisfied.

The other is Chen Sicheng's *Beijing Love Story*, which was originally planned for release next year's Valentine's Day.

But Fang Hong rejected it—Valentine's Day is too close to the Spring Festival Slot, and *The Bonded Love* is slated for the Spring Festival Slot, so releasing it in the New Year Slot would clash with Liu Tianxian's *Four Famous Shops 2*.

Two films with the same lead actor shouldn't be released together.

So they adjusted: *Beijing Love Story* moved to the New Year Slot, and *The Bonded Love* moved to the Spring Festival Slot.

This arrangement is far more reasonable.

But Chen Sicheng fears the New Year Slot is too competitive and might lead to a box office flop.

*Personal Shopper*, *Police Story 2013*, *Drug War*, *Storm*—all are big-budget films; how can a rookie director like him compete?

*Storm* even has Youku's involvement, meaning Youku has entered the film and television industry.

Fang Hong encouraged him: "What's there to fear? Just go for it—I did exactly that when I started."

"Everything has a first time. Last year, Xu Guangtou was just as anxious as you are, yet he made it through. Don't worry—I'll handle the operations," Chen Zhixi assured him, patting her chest.

She now handles this matter with ease.

Chen Sicheng nodded; with two general managers backing him, he finally felt at ease.

Promotion methods are gradually changing, increasingly relying on new media.

This means Yutu's film and television promotion must now also depend on platforms like Bilibili, Toutiao, and Chang'e Video, in addition to Weibo, QQ Space, and portals.

Traffic on these platforms is sufficient; Bilibili is developing well, with monthly active users steadily at 37.9 million and still growing slowly.

These are the stable users after several rounds of positioning adjustments: segmented long-form video, user-generated content only, and those active in anime and manga culture.

Stabilizing Bilibili's traffic and securing a foothold in today's landscape was due to Fang Hong's original money-dropping strategy—paying Up Masters based on play counts.

As a result, content on the platform has become richer and more diverse: life documentation, editing, explanations, news, entertainment, and more.

But the most popular are still those guichu videos!

As content grows richer, user numbers also increase; the more users, the faster losses mount—this year's losses have already reached 90 million U. S. dollars.

Costs include anime content, Up Master payouts, and operational expenses.

If this continues, next year's losses will be even higher; Fang Hong's annual target of losing one billion may not hold.

Add Toutiao's users, and monthly active users approach 50 million.

Add Chang'e Video, which has over 100 million monthly active users; altogether, this segment has nearly 150 million monthly active users—extremely impressive for now.

But Chang'e Video relies solely on continuous blockbusters; it has not formed an ecosystem or user loyalty. Without blockbuster content, this traffic will plummet quickly.

There's no choice—content is insufficient, no sports events, no overseas dramas; it depends entirely on existing blockbusters, a case of forcing growth that requires constant output.

As for Xiaohongshu, it was founded too recently—ignore it for now and let it develop slowly.

This development means Chang'e is paying Yutu copyright fees; Yutu promotes films and packages artists, then funnels money back to Chang'e, creating a self-contained cycle of production and sales.

On November 23, the day the Golden Horse Awards opened, Fang Hong and Liu Tianxian, along with Wen Muye, Zhang Songwen, and several behind-the-scenes creators attended.

For example, art director Li Anran, special effects expert Chen Xiuwei—who did the special effects for *Now You See Me* and received a nomination.

Cinematographer Liu Yin was also nominated, but he had no time—he needed to prepare for *Gravity*'s pre-production and didn't attend.

If he wins, someone else can collect the award for him.

These are Yutu's internal staff; externally, Liang Jiahui was nominated for Best Actor in *Cold War*; Tong Dawei was nominated for Best Supporting Actor in *The Partners*.

In short, Yutu films received many nominations this year: Best Visual Effects, Best Cinematography, Best Leading Actor and Actress, and more.

This year was Yutu Film's breakout year in mainstream awards.

Although these awards have since been restructured by capital and traffic, diminishing their influence, they still carry considerable weight now.

Winning an award makes people look at you differently; no one will say you've made so many films yet never won a prize.

Liu Tianxian is often mocked for this.

Since Zhang Songwen already won the Golden Rooster for Best Actor, he wasn't nominated this time—he came only as an invited guest.

He has earned some status in this industry, after all.

This year marks the 50th anniversary of the Golden Horse Awards ceremony, arguably its strongest ever—certainly in terms of star power; such a constellation of stars will never be seen again.

In the past, some wouldn't come, others had retired; this year, it gathered the top film and television stars and celebrities from across the Taiwan-Hong Kong-Mainland region.

Stars included: Zhang Manyu, Lin Qingxia, Liang Chaowei and Liu Jia-ling, Liu Dehua, Shu Qi, Liang Jiahui, Zhang Ziyi, Li Bingbing, Liu Qingyun and his wife, Zheng Xiuwen, Fang Long, Guo Fucheng, Di Long, Zheng Yulin, Chen Chong, Xia Yu, Xie Junhao, Qin Hailu, Zhang Hanyu, Zhang Jiahui, Huang Bo, Gui Lunmei, Liu Ruoying, Zhang Aijia, Huang Bo, Qin Xianglin.

This Golden Horse was dazzlingly star-studded, but that's simply the result of their accumulated influence.

Fewer mainland stars attended, as the new generation hasn't yet emerged, and veteran directors generally don't care for this award.

Directors included: Li An, Wang Jiawei, Wu Yusen, Li Xing, Du Qifeng, Hou Xiaoxian, Xu Anhua, Chen Kexin, Chen Kunhou, Chen Guo, Zhang Guoming, Cai Mingliang, Zhong Meng-hong, Guan Jinpeng.

Not a single mainstream mainland director was present; Fang Hong came only to accompany Liu Tianxian—he had no nomination.

Have you ever seen Chen Daren attend the Golden Horse? Lao Mouzi only won his Golden Horse after *Shadow*; he never attended before, and even *Coming Home* the next year didn't draw him.

You could say none of the Fifth or Sixth Generation directors have ever won a Golden Horse—at least not yet.

Feng Kuzi never won one either—he only got his Golden Horse after *I Am Not Madame Bovary*, which is why he constantly criticizes the Golden Horse.

That's why mainland mainstream directors avoid the Golden Horse entirely, preferring to focus on the Golden Rooster and Huabiao Awards instead of playing with this crowd.

There's truly a rift with the Hong Kong-Taiwan circle!

The Golden Horse is entirely propped up by star power—the star power of this Hong Kong-Taiwan group, with the older generation shining too brightly: Liang Chaowei, Liu Tianwang, Zhang Jiahui, Liu Qingyun, and others.

Once this generation fades away, after Neidi's Chen Sicheng, Guo Fan, Xu Guangtou, Shen Teng, Zhang Yi, Wu Jing, and Lei Datou rise to stardom, this award will have declined.

Because the capital itself has moved on—even without Hong Kong and Taiwan stars, it can still sustain enough star power.

The Golden Horse Awards have declined for many reasons; star power is one of them.

This year's Golden Horse Executive Committee Chair is Hou Xiaoxian, the Jury Chair is Li An, and the Image Ambassador is Zhang Manyu—all major figures.

The ceremony is held at the Memorial Hall; the red carpet begins at 5:30 p. m.

The red carpet is dazzling with stars; on both sides, audiences watch each celebrity stride by in glamorous attire, female stars competing in beauty and elegance.

Shu Qi's deep-V neckline looks like a ridge from the front and a peak from the side; Zhang Manyu wears a vibrant purple gown; Gui Lunmei reveals her bare back; Li Bailian's lace dress hints at her legs; Sui Tang's black dress exposes her curves, her chest nearly bursting forth; Zheng Yulin's low-cut dress exudes allure, her face full of wrinkles.

Liu Ruoying wears a plain white robe, slightly revealing her legs, hand covering her chest; Chen Chong radiates charm; Cai Kangyong sports a zebra-patterned headpiece, looking distinctly unconventional.

Li An walks the red carpet, holding Lin Qingxia's hand, waving and smiling.

There are flamboyant ones on the red carpet, and serious ones too—all dazzlingly dressed—but most of them, upon closer look, are flat-chested. Yet they still proudly show them off. Too bad Hao Lei didn't come; hers were truly top-tier. Fang Hong still remembers years ago when she went topless—her ample curves could wipe out every one here.

Of course, Liu Tianxian isn't much better, but she dresses conservatively: a sleek black jumpsuit, bare shoulders, a graceful swan-like neck, and a slicked-back hairstyle giving her an imposing aura.

Whenever she wears black with a slicked-back hairstyle, her aura naturally emerges.

Fang Hong naturally couldn't be outdone by her—he sports an equally bold hairstyle, slicked back like the others, but unlike them, he ties a small braid at the back, exuding a cool style.

They aren't the only ones on the red carpet; Wen Muye, Zhang Songwen, Li Anran, Chen Xiuwei, and several others follow behind—the procession is still quite large.

They wave to both sides, occasionally stopping for photos.

"Aaaah!"

"Kakakaka!"

On both sides of the red carpet, screams and cheers erupt as reporters frantically snap photos, lights flashing nonstop.

Liu Tianxian links arms with Fang Hong, waving to both sides, while Fang Hong stands like a log, hands in his pockets, looking utterly cocky.

He hasn't appeared on the big screen in a long time; many have forgotten him. Still, he has a fan base—just not here.

The two stop in the middle of the red carpet for photo ops.

"Smile, will you? Who are you scowling at?" Liu Tianxian whispers, tilting her head.

"For your fans—so they won't yell at me to leave. I won't leave." Fang Hong says.

Last time on the red carpet, Liu Tianxian's fans told him to get lost and demanded she be photographed alone.

"You're acting like a child. Why bother with my fans?" Liu Tianxian says.

"I'm emotionally fragile. I need to be coddled." Fang Hong replies.

Liu Tianxian smirks, says nothing, and keeps walking, waving to the crowd as she goes—this man is just bored. Watching the fans' enthusiasm, she continues waving.

Here, her popularity is still high.

The procession reaches the end of the red carpet, where the host asks meaningless questions, then lets them enter the venue.

The venue's seating is arranged in rows, in a stepped elliptical formation—only guest seats, no audience seats.

Fans and the public cannot enter; they cannot see anything.

The reason? Obviously, the Memorial Hall has limited space; just accommodating filmmakers from across the strait is enough—there's no room for spectators.

Besides, the stage up front isn't large at all—it looks tiny, laughably small compared to the Shanghai Film Festival's stage.

Understandable—it's a small place!

Upon entering the Memorial Hall, Fang Hong tells Wen Muye, Zhang Songwen, and the others: "Find your seats!"

Everyone has assigned seats; Fang Hong and Liu Tianxian are in the front row—after all, Fang Hong is a big shot, and Liu Tianxian is his companion.

Zhang Songwen and the others go to find their seats.

Due to the cramped seating, movement is slightly restricted; once the celebrities enter, they sit down in their assigned spots.

Every seat is pre-assigned.

The moment Fang Hong and Liu Tianxian appear, eyes turn toward them—look at the Principal's outfit, his hairstyle—he looks like a cocky teenager.

He's a big boss, yet still so immature.

Most here are strangers—Lin Qingxia, Zhang Manyu, Liang Chaowei, Di Long—who knows who they are?

Seeing them on screen doesn't mean knowing them in person. Fang Hong has only ever fawned over one star in his life—Liu Tianxian—and he truly did.

Fang Hong has zero interest in these entertainment stars. No matter how big their status, how famous, how perfect their image—inside, they're all the same to him.

But there are people he knows: Liang Jiahui stands up as Fang Hong descends the steps and extends his hand: "Principal!"

"Hello!"

Fang Hong shakes his hand and smiles: "We got stuck in traffic coming here. Were you stuck too?"

"Then you must've come in a Rolls-Royce—we took a Mazda, no traffic." Liang Jiahui laughs, his face full of wrinkles—it's a joke.

He's starred in several of Yu Tu's films—from the earliest "Thelma & Louise" to "Cold War," and now the upcoming "Beijing Love Story."

He's the Hong Kong actor who's received the most Yu Tu resources—no one else has gotten this much.

Others chuckle too; Zhang Hanyu stands up, shakes Fang Hong's hand, and they nod to each other.

Though he's under Huayi, that's a feud with Da Wang and Xiao Wang—not with their artists.

Besides, many of these artists are leaving soon.

Then Tong Dawei, Qin Hailu, Guoji Zhang, and other Neidi stars come to pay their respects.

The Principal's influence is growing daily.

Meanwhile, Hong Kong and Taiwan actors and directors just stare blankly, neither approaching nor greeting—just staring.

Who knows what they're looking at? If Feng Kuzi were here, he'd say: "Never seen such a cool boss?"

But he has no feud with these people!

Liu Tianxian beside him is busy too—responding to one after another; everyone knows her connection to the Principal.

"Tianxian, you look amazing in that outfit." Guoji Zhang has nothing else to say.

"Thank you, you too." Liu Tianxian said.

"You'll go easy on me later, right!" Guoji Zhang was referring to the competition for Best Actress—both of them had been nominated.

"You're teasing me, aren't you? Everyone knows this year's Golden Horse Best Actress is sure to be you. I'm just here to run alongside and cheer you on." Liu Tianxian said.

"You're too kind. If you win, I'll cheer and celebrate for you too."

"."

Liu Tianxian chatted casually with Guoji Zhang and the others. She knew a lot of people, having been around this circle a long time; some she had met at events, and had even worked with.

For instance, when she walked down the steps again, she greeted Li An and exchanged a few words with Zhu Yanping.

She could chat a line or two with anyone, but always stopped at just that—these were all things of the past.

"Teacher Li." Fang Hong greeted Li Xuejian.

This gentleman had been nominated for Best Supporting Actor for *1942*.

"Xiao Fang." Li Xuejian seemed quite warm, holding his hand and giving it a firm shake.

"You're in great shape!" Fang Hong felt the grip was still quite strong.

"Ha ha ha, not bad." Li Xuejian laughed.

One update today, I'll make it up tomorrow

(End of chapter)