Chapter 443: Wife Called Me Home for Dinner

Those present fell silent as the Principal's expression changed abruptly; the Principal could switch moods on a dime, showing not the slightest respect to the Senior Teacher.

But it wasn't fair to blame the Principal—he had been in good spirits until Gu Zhangwei came over and started criticizing someone.

"I'm only looking out for you; you know what kind of things you've done," Gu Zhangwei pretended not to notice the Principal's change of expression and still tried to put on airs.

It was perfectly normal; Fang Hong hadn't said anything harsh.

"Was I not clear enough? You don't understand the situation—I can explain, but don't presume to shoot blindly without basis." Fang Hong's tone grew sharper this time.

Now Gu Zhangwei's face darkened.

He knew perfectly well the situation—he'd merely taken the Principal's address of him as "Teacher" as license to assume the posture of a Senior Teacher and believed he could exert influence.

He thought he could reform this person into following their rules.

But how could Fang Hong possibly obey their archaic rules? Such rules were merely about submission.

"If you don't listen to advice, you'll regret it later when you make mistakes," Gu Zhangwei still wore the face of someone acting in another's best interest.

"If I followed what you said, I'd truly regret it," Fang Hong now left not the slightest face, not even using "you" respectfully.

Those around them looked astonished and suspicious, quietly stepping back, unwilling to get involved in this conflict.

In truth, the Principal calling him "Senior Teacher" was a sign of respect; without respect, he was nothing.

The atmosphere in the room grew slightly awkward.

"."

Gu Zhangwei's narrow eyes sharpened; he was about to speak again.

But his wife Jiang Wenli pulled him gently, whispering beside him: "Enough."

He's not really your student—just attended two of your classes, and he's not your child. Why meddle in others' affairs?

Gu Zhangwei turned to look at his wife, said nothing more, and adopted the look of a man shaking his head in disappointment at a failure to rise to potential.

Fang Hong ignored him, bid Tian Zhuangzhuang farewell, and left the place.

Soon, staff announced the meeting was starting; the doors to the conference room opened, and people filed in, finding their seats and sitting down.

Of course, staff guided them—otherwise it would have been chaotic, with so many people.

The conference room was spacious and bright, with neat rows of long tables, aisles between each row lined with blue velvet, and orderly white cups, meeting minutes, and pens placed on each table.

These top leaders really did things differently—they even had pens prepared for them; in the past, everyone brought their own.

Each desk had a nameplate for easy identification; Fang Hong sat in the third row with the managing leaders ahead of him.

At the front, on a raised platform, was another long table seating five—directly facing the audience, offering a full view of the entire hall.

The room was quiet; no one spoke, only the faint "rustling" sounds of people settling into their seats.

After sitting, everyone glanced around; beside Fang Hong sat Ceng Maojun, his old rival; the two locked eyes in silent exchange.

As if saying: "Long time no see."

In truth, both slightly narrowed their eyes—a perfectly normal gaze.

This was Ceng Maojun's third time seeing Fang Hong; the previous two encounters had been back in the year before last, during the Yutu Ticket financing.

In just these few short years, the man had risen to sit on equal footing with her, showing not the slightest reverence.

Recalling the past, he could command the Principal with arrogance, and the Principal hadn't dared utter a sound; now he met his gaze.

It was completely natural—as if to say: "Who are you?"

It was perfectly normal; Fang Hong's strength was no longer comparable to two years ago, when Wanda had been an insurmountable mountain.

Now he was crossing it, possessing the capital to challenge.

Both remained silent; elsewhere in the room, no one spoke either. After sitting, everyone was quiet—completely different from the outside, where people eagerly flattered and socialized.

Outside, things were casual; this meeting, however, was serious—not a departmental gathering where department leaders sat below.

When the top leaders appeared, everyone straightened their backs, sat upright, and displayed their best demeanor.

After the top leaders sat down, they appeared relaxed, smiling warmly, and greeted them first.

Then came the report on last year's achievements, delivered by the speaker while all listened.

Last year, China's total box office surpassed 20 billion RMB, reaching 22.1 billion—about 400–500 million more than in the previous life, largely due to Fang Hong's influence.

He used Yutu Ticket to attract many new moviegoers.

Total moviegoer visits exceeded 601 million, with national box office growth exceeding 28% year-over-year.

According to figures released by the Film Association: domestic films accounted for 55% of box office revenue, surpassing imported films, demonstrating that domestic cinema now held the mainstream position in China's film market.

In plain terms: domestic and imported films were roughly evenly matched; Hollywood blockbusters had not been completely pushed aside.

Nationwide, over 4,500 new cinema screens were added, bringing the total to 17,600 screens—a very encouraging figure.

However, noteworthy was that while cinema and screen numbers exploded, the national average occupancy rate was only 16%; audience numbers and viewing frequency did not grow proportionally.

In plain terms: too many cinemas, too few viewers.

Yet commendably, China's overseas box office from film exports reached 2.263 billion RMB last year, a 95% year-over-year increase.

Of that export revenue, Yutu Company alone accounted for 849 million RMB—one-third of the total export share—driving the growth figure dramatically high, even without counting past achievements; it was extremely eye-catching.

Particularly outstanding were the overseas box office figures: Now You See Me: 506 million RMB; Lucky Key: 340 million RMB.

All other export shares were accumulated from hundreds of films; these two films achieved massive success overseas.

"Which company produced these two films?" a leader asked. "Yutu Company. That man there is the Chairman of Yutu," the speaker gestured toward Fang Hong below the stage, clearly well-versed in the business.

Following his gesture, the top leaders looked down; others turned or looked back as well.

Fang Hong suddenly became the center of attention—some recognized him, some didn't; some gazed calmly, others with envy.

Seeing the leaders watching him, Fang Hong quickly stood and bowed toward the stage.

The top leader glanced at his nameplate, waved a hand to signal him to sit, then said: "Staying locked in an ivory tower won't yield lasting artistic inspiration or creative passion. This reminds us that artists must not only immerse themselves among the masses and in life, but also strengthen international communication and exchange."

"Our films must not drift too far from life—whether screenwriters, cinematographers, or actors: sink your heart into creation; actors, don't rush—experience life before you act."

Everyone in the room looked like they were listening intently; no one knew if they truly absorbed it—yet later films grew ever more distant from life.

And these words acknowledge Yutu's achievements on the international stage.

After finishing, the venue erupted in a synchronized round of applause.

The meeting continued, reviewing last year's achievements, then turned to the theme of this session: film and television reform.

Last year, the film and television market was already confirmed as market-oriented; this year, it will go further by endowing films with financial attributes.

That means opening up film financing, equity pledge loans, and industrial financing.

In other words, credit will be liberalized—film companies can directly raise capital, support qualified film enterprises in going public, and encourage film distribution companies to issue corporate and enterprise bonds.

Use financial tools to leverage the industrialization of film.

This is a major signal, meaning future restrictions on film and television companies listing on stock exchanges will be reduced, and financing limits will also be lifted.

This is a major boon for internet capital firms like BAT—they can now use capital mechanisms to integrate the film and television industry.

Previously, they faced restrictions and could not directly finance or invest in film and television companies; they could only do so through individuals.

Jack Ma personally invested in Huayi.

Because culture was strictly controlled by the state in the past, foreign capital and financial penetration were basically prohibited.

Even cinemas were restricted—they could only be built, not financed or acquired through capital means; this is also why those running cinemas, aside from local entities, all had real estate backgrounds.

Such asset-heavy ventures could only be handled by them; film companies simply couldn't afford it—they could manage only a few cinemas at most.

Huayi, the most capital-rich film company, currently has only nine cinemas.

Internet enterprises and capital institutions were not allowed in at all—though it's hard to say what will happen in the future; these two years will see gradual liberalization.

This round of liberalization is also a boon for capital institutions, meaning they can now enter the film and cultural industry with fewer restrictions.

Of course, the core areas remain unliberalized—the leadership has a clear understanding.

But endowing film and television with financial attributes brings many drawbacks: problems like guaranteed returns, betting contracts, and illegal fundraising will emerge frequently; what's produced won't be films anymore, but financial products, losing the purity once inherent in filmmaking.

It has become prosperous, but lost its original intention.

Money has been made, but the soul of cinema has been lost.

As the leadership spoke, those below listened intently, their faces showing varying degrees of relief and concern.

Those concerned were the veteran artists—future film and television markets may no longer resemble what they knew.

The meeting ended with grand narratives, guiding ideologies, making good films, making films the people love, expanding and strengthening the industry to create new glory.

The meeting concluded without the usual discussions—just follow the procedures.

Yet the top leaders did not leave; they stepped down from the stage and warmly shook hands with representatives from the cultural sector.

"Whoosh!" Everyone in the venue stood up, their faces filled with respect and tension; Fang Hong stood as well.

They first shook hands with the elderly veteran artists, humble and courteous.

When they reached Fang Hong, the top leaders smiled warmly and patted his shoulder in encouragement; Fang Hong bowed half a head lower, his demeanor respectful.

Of course, people in the room were watching—this was a sign of high expectations!

It's natural—his achievements in taking film and television overseas are the best, and he's still so young; everything is possible.

Then the top leaders went on to shake hands with others.

This meeting was fully recorded by official media; the public would never see the full picture.

What they saw was how glorious the film industry had become and what instructions the leaders gave—essentially, news.

But the basic policy was clear; this policy was merely a signal, not an immediate issuance of documents—it would likely take several months.

Implementation would also be gradual, not rushed all at once; everything requires a process.

Either way, Huayi's stock will rise again in the second half of the year; next year's explosive growth is certain, since this company remains the first film and television stock.

After the meeting, some went to gatherings to discuss it; others began planning how to seek capital for listing.

"Principal, your bearing has grown immensely since we last met—it's left me awestruck. Let's find a place to chat." Ceng Maojun smiled and invited.

He was referring to what the Principal had done over the past two years—indeed, it had stunned him.

Wanda has long sought to connect the upstream and downstream of the film industry; they are now the largest downstream player, while Yutu is the largest upstream one.

There is great potential for collaboration.

"Really sorry, General Manager Zeng—my wife called me home for dinner; if I'm late, I'll have to kneel on a washboard. Another day, another day!" Fang Hong waved him off.

(End of chapter)