Chapter 451: Cultured Scoundrel

Of course Fang Hong wouldn't do this yet—it would drag down the entire industry's film and television quality, too great a sin.

And today's internet infrastructure still doesn't allow short dramas; the audience for short videos won't be large, since 4G has just been popularized and speeds haven't been increased or prices lowered yet.

Short dramas? Let's wait until short videos take off—some things are era-specific.

It's not guaranteed that launching early will guarantee a hit; it might even flop.

After discussing with Zhang Nan how to acquire more content, Fang Hong summoned Meng Jun to keep expanding investments—Yao Ke Media and Lemon Film and Television were the targets.

These are emerging film and television media, all based in Shanghai; television dramas still have an advantage in the south, where infrastructure is better and Hengdian is located.

The TV dramas they produce differ from those in the north; the south better suits young audiences' tastes—or rather, better meets the needs of the Traffic Era.

Though not every one of their dramas becomes a hit, they still have substantial audiences.

You can't always have hits; the key is to have as much content as possible, satisfying diverse audience needs.

Fang Hong must manage multiple fronts—Chang'e Video and Yutu Production must both push hard to respond to and outpace this capital-driven copyright war.

Of course, Yutu Production hasn't stopped filming either—it keeps producing films and TV series, like "Gu Jian Qi Tan," "Shan Shan Lai Le," and "Bei Ping Wu Zhan Shi," all Yutu projects.

The leads in "Gu Jian Qi Tan" were recast: the male lead went to Chen Xiao, the female lead to Tang Yan, who also starred in Yutu's "He Yi Shen Xiao Mo."

She was chosen because she has no conflict of interest and no aggression; other 85s either have conflicts with their back-end film companies.

Or they're partners themselves, inherently aggressive—Tang Yan isn't; she runs her own studio.

And when Fang Hong launched his indiscriminate attacks earlier, he targeted many people.

Many had participated in the smear campaign against Liu Tianxian; some called begging for mercy, some swore they hadn't done it.

Tang Yan was one of those who hadn't.

For supporting roles, Nazha was cast—this girl needs to mature; everything else remains unchanged.

No one knows if Nazha will still date Zhang Han and then endure seven years of online abuse from that little fairy's fans.

But she's currently enduring online abuse too—too beautiful, people are jealous.

There was also the "Zhan Changsha" project—it was a state broadcaster's project, co-produced with Shandong Film and Television Media, both official entities; impossible to compete for.

Also, Shuwei Animation needs investment too; investments aren't expensive, starting at tens of millions, no need for controlling stakes.

The current animation market still has huge output, over a hundred billion yuan annually, growing every year; Yutu needs animation to fill the gap left by Chang'e Video.

Film and animation companies aren't valuable right now—that's why Alibaba, Tencent, and other capital can integrate them.

Later, Tencent invested in over fifty animation companies at once, handing out money like it was free, even without counting film and television media companies.

If you include them, Tencent alone invested in at least a hundred companies just in content production.

Even Alibaba later invested in over seventy film companies, famous or obscure—they didn't care if you'd succeed, just invest and see.

For capital like them, this industry is pocket change!

Look at Yutu—it's never failed, annual profit is only eight or nine hundred million, less than Lao Wang Zong's petty goals.

This industry's scale is too small, output under thirty billion yuan.

If not for its potential and copyright extension to video platforms—where regulations are being relaxed—capital probably wouldn't care much.

Actually, capital isn't really playing film and television—it's playing finance, money laundering, celebrity traffic tools; how many truly popular traffic stars have ever made a hit?

Alibaba and Tencent investing in dozens or hundreds at once is beyond Fang Hong's reach now, but he still knows who will rise.

Yutu is also growing into a comprehensive company, developing in both production and investment across film and television content.

The goal is to seize the initiative and capture the market.

The plans sound great, but damn it, he has no money.

Fang Hong asked: "What's Tesla's current market cap?"

"It's been hovering around $25 billion, up from last year," Meng Jun reported, taking notes.

Taking notes was to record what he'd told the Principal—whom to invest in, whom to control.

Tesla's peak market cap last year was $20 billion; it rose $5 billion this year, slowly, but it rose.

Remember, they bought it at $1–2 billion—more than ten times return.

Meng Jun deeply regretted not buying with the Principal—if he had, even a little, he'd be financially free, no need to work.

"Watch it—sell when Tesla hits $3 billion," Fang Hong ordered.

In his memory, Tesla peaked above $3 billion this year—he didn't know which month, but it was this year.

For the next few years, Tesla stayed around that level; real breakout would take years.

So holding it longer is meaningless—time to cash out.

"Will it reach $3 billion? It's been stable the past six months," Meng Jun said skeptically.

"It's a trend—it will," Fang Hong said.

Hearing this, Meng Jun pondered, thinking of buying with the Principal.

But the Nvidia investment hadn't grown much—invested two years ago, now only around $10 billion, too slow.

Few investors play long-term; long-term is slower than using the money elsewhere, like real estate—booming right now.

Long-term means locking your money away—like Fang Hong's $2 billion tied up, unless you truly have idle capital and strategic vision, like Li Jiacheng, you won't play long-term.

Most investors don't play long-term—what if the founder fails to manage well and the company collapses?

That's why many founders cash out and other investors follow—truly hard to find those who genuinely want to run things well.

Like Huayi—they couldn't handle the flood of wealth, kept cashing out, sold whenever it rose, then tried to pump the stock again after it fell.

That's unsustainable; short-term is simpler—no matter what, just cash out. Investment is about people. Most people think differently from Fang Hong—he refuses to touch real estate, knows it's about to burst, and still won't invest.

Yutu also has multiple film projects this year: "Hou Hui Wu Qi," "Dying to Survive," "Xiu Chun Dao," and "Wu Shuang."

Also "Old Boys: The Rise of the Dragon," an investment—Xiao Yang directs it himself.

But the production team and Producer are Yutu's—Tian Tian is his Producer.

Except "Wu Shuang," all other films were already shot or in post-production.

The film Wu Shuang was initiated by Fang Hong, who also produced it, with Wang Ran as director and Zheng Jianfeng as Producer.

He produced it because he knew how this film should be made!

Taking Hong Kong's path and leaving Hong Kong with no way out has always been what Fang Hong does, and this film's props are exquisitely crafted, with outstanding visual effects.

With the visual design team from Gravity, making this film was no difficulty at all.

Invite Chen Daoming to play the painter—that is, the role played by Guo Fucheng—Chen Daoming's presence is no less than Zhou Runfa's; he can just play Emperor Kangxi.

As for acting, I didn't see any real acting from Zhou Runfa in this film, only pretentiousness; Chen Daoming can be pretentious too.

Of course, there won't be scenes like "tutututu" where one man fights a crowd—that scene was mainly to pay homage to A Better Tomorrow, and it's meaningless.

They filmed more to explore the plot, and the plot is genuinely brilliant.

If you film the plot well and make it logically coherent, this will be a masterpiece.

Zhang Songwen plays Li Wen—that is, the role played by Guo Fucheng—his acting is sufficient, and this was also to promote him.

As for the female lead, it was definitely given to Song Jia—she's his own artist, after all; you don't let the water flow to someone else's field.

Other supporting roles include Wang Yanhui, Zhou Yiwei, Ren Suxi, and others—all of them have excellent acting.

It's not true that Hong Kong's veteran actors have better acting—that's a misconception.

When Chen Daoming received the script and role invitation, he was surprised—he never expected Yu Tu would ask him to act; he had previously looked down on the Principal.

He thought this person was arrogant and had no respect for others!

He had heard many things in the industry—the Principal had been locked in fierce battles with Huayi, cursed Bo Na's Fatty as if he were a dog, and never uttered a word in response.

He had also heard recently about the Principal slapping Fa Ge's face.

He never imagined that someone he looked down upon, someone he thought he'd never work with, would invite him to act—and in such a profound leading role.

This made him feel somewhat ashamed.

Even though he looked down on the man, he still showed up at Yu Tu for the film's meeting as promised.

In a spacious, bright conference room, Fang Hong met Chen Daoming and greeted him: "Teacher Chen, thank you for taking on this film amid your busy schedule."

"I thought the script was quite good, and the role had depth." Chen Daoming meant he accepted the role because he liked the script.

But his eyes secretly assessed the man before him—he was different from what he'd expected; the man was quite polite.

Wang Yanhui was also sizing up Fang Hong—he was meeting the legendary Principal for the first time.

And Yu Tu had given him two film contracts at once, including The Dead End.

"That's good. After our research, we also feel you're suitable for this role," Fang Hong said, studying him in return—he carried great poise, dressed in casual business attire, with an air of scholarly elegance.

They wanted exactly this "cultured villain" vibe—outwardly refined, inwardly cunning and ruthless—that was the character's definition by the screenwriter, not Fang Hong's personal view.

Of course, there's still a plot twist later—he turns out to be a good person.

Hearing this, Chen Daoming nodded silently.

"Let me introduce you: this is Producer Zheng Jianfeng, director Wang Ran, lead actor Zhang Songwen, your scene partner..." Fang Hong had a group beside him and introduced them one by one.

As each was introduced, Chen Daoming shook hands and greeted them.

"Then I'll leave you to talk. Teacher Chen, regarding filming, if you have any questions, just communicate with them—I have other matters and must leave." Fang Hong was busy; he had many things to handle.

Gravity was moving to the south to shoot the underwater scenes, and he had to go with them—his work had already been delayed too long.

"Understood, Principal, take care as you go."

"."

Those present watched Fang Hong leave; Chen Daoming stared at his retreating back, his eyes filled with thought.

Different. Too different.

"Teacher Chen, please sit here—we'll discuss the filming issues," Wang Ran gestured for Chen Daoming to sit.

The others also took their assigned seats.

"So, is your Principal usually like this?" Chen Daoming sat on a chair and asked casually.

"Yes, he's always like this—is there a problem?" Wang Ran was puzzled—he'd known the Principal for four or five years; hadn't he always been like this?

"No problem. Let's begin the meeting," Chen Daoming realized his perception of the Principal had been mistaken.

Hearing rumors repeated so often is normal—the Beijing circle's crowd rarely spoke well of the Principal; they called him a poison, a Nazi, a tyrant.

Fang Hong didn't know how Chen Daoming viewed him—he went to the talent agency, where the number of artists had increased.

Many new stars had joined—some he knew, like Yang Yang, Li Yitong, Han Dongjun, Ren Suxi; others he didn't.

Not knowing them was normal—only a few become famous; if you're not red for years, you switch careers; if you become red, you gain boundless wealth.

People like Yang Yang—who already had some fame and came here after a conflict with their agency—were rare.

Most here were seeing the Principal for the first time; they looked at him as if he were a blazing sun—nothing else, because this man could make them famous.

But Fang Hong glanced once and walked away without stopping.

(End of Chapter)