Chapter 555: Better to Let the Opportunity Go to Xiang Zuo

"Big Hero 6 is only nominated; we still need to see if it will ultimately win an award."

As time passed, the influence of the Macau Film Festival had not faded but continued to ferment, with heated debates ongoing online.

Feng Kuzi heard the Principal called him ugly to legendary status, so he posted on social media: "Don't let me see him; if I do, I'll slap him twice—he's got no manners, I could be his grandfather."

"Go piss on a mirror and look at yourself—the Principal's evaluation was quite objective, hahaha!" one Wangyi commented.

This was the most-liked comment, making many Wangyi laugh themselves sick, showing not the slightest respect to Director Feng.

In fact, most Wangyi had no fondness for him and now favored the Principal, so they helped the Principal insult him.

Of course, Fang Hong wouldn't pay him any attention; paying him attention would lower his own status.

While the internet outside was noisy, the film circle was stirring with hidden currents—some were already lobbying to prevent the Principal from hosting the next Macau Film Festival.

It was only because the Principal had organized it too successfully: exposing scandals, creating buzz, making everyone aware, and he had his own promotional channels that couldn't be contained.

Most importantly, he bypassed expert groups like the Film Association, film research institutions, scholars, and film critics, stripping them of their voice and authority over the definition of "honor."

This was a heavy blow to them, making those old men very unhappy.

The organizer of this film festival was an outsider, and the Judges were insiders but not their own people—they gained nothing, and the Principal even shattered their mystique and authority.

If the Principal continued like this, what use would they even have?

Many things the public shouldn't know have now become public knowledge—can you say the film awards ceremony makes huge profits?

Can you say award-buying happens?

Can you say relatives get awards through insider deals?

Regardless of how they lobbied, Fang Hong couldn't care and couldn't stop them.

The successful hosting of the Macau Film Festival bypassed those experts and domestic film association organizations.

Some even went to Zhang Huijun to pressure him, urging him to persuade the Principal to abandon hosting the Macau Film Festival—or if he insisted on hosting, they must be included.

These words were also directed at Macau authorities.

Fang Hong was from the Beijing Film Academy faction, backed by Beijing Film Academy; Zhang Huijun's words could exert pressure on the Principal.

And you, Zhang Huijun, are also an Expert—the Principal's actions also harm your interests; the reasoning is solid.

Zhang Huijun wanted to have a proper talk with the Principal, but the Principal had left right after dropping off Donna and vanished—Zhang Huijun simply had no chance.

Of course, if Macau authorities decided to reclaim all rights and prevent Fang Hong from hosting, he was powerless—he was capital, and no matter how much money or influence he had, he was powerless against official power.

He could only passively accept; he had no right to refuse.

But he knew that without him, the Macau Film Festival was just a pile of shit—and Macau authorities knew this too; with those old men, the festival would never rise.

Macau's cultural and entertainment industry would never rise.

Their thinking was different: Fang Hong aligned with Macau's interests; those old men aligned only with their own interests.

This wave boosted Macau's tourism—some films chose locations here; for example, Yutu planned to shoot a film here, and now Big Hero 6 will shoot scenes in Macau.

A large production crew of over a thousand people eating, drinking, and living here isn't a small matter.

Fang Hong didn't care what those people did to lobby everywhere; his only action was to strengthen his own strength.

Douyin had launched on January 1, and its download numbers hadn't seen breakthrough changes yet—it was still in testing and user experience phases.

The main issue was unclear positioning: Douyin still focused mainly on lip-syncing to music and hadn't yet figured out its specific direction—it needed to break through as a music-creative short-video social app.

Any product must find its style and target user group.

This new product also lacked a user base and brand recognition, making it hard to promote; furthermore, its technology was slightly inadequate, resulting in low user retention.

New products having many problems is normal.

The market already had mature short-video competitors like Kuaishou and Meipai; Douyin was merely a new entrant.

It needed time to explore and find its positioning, accumulating technical advantages suited to this product.

Fang Hong didn't interfere much—he didn't know the specific operational strategies for this product; the team needed to find their own strategy.

His ideas were just his ideas; if he said something wrong, he might mislead the team and send them down the wrong path—they needed to grow on their own.

But he treated it as a key development priority, providing sufficient resources and funding.

The Chang'e Technology executives all knew this.

Let Douyin develop and explore step by step; one day, when the team finally gets it, it could explode overnight—it's the same original team.

Just before Spring Festival, Tencent's MOBA mobile game All People Super God officially launched.

Compared to the original timeline, it launched nearly half a year earlier.

This was due to pressure from Honor of Kings and Swan Castle.

All People Super God had polished graphics and smooth controls, and upon launch, received high praise from players.

Coupled with Tencent's massive promotional resources using WeChat, QQ, and other social platforms, it attracted a huge number of players.

Within a very short time after launch, its downloads surpassed 15 million.

During All People Super God's explosive popularity, countless posts and videos defaming Honor of Kings appeared across major social platforms like Weibo, Tieba, QQ Space, and even Bilibili.

They used bloggers, veteran players, and seasoned gamers to review both games, concluding: "All People Super God is the best, Honor of Kings is shit!"

Tencent organized a massive Water Army to utterly trash Honor of Kings, drenching it in mud. Fans from both sides began hurling insults: Honor of Kings supporters said, "Tencent's games? Even dogs won't play!"

All People Super God supporters said, "Honor of Kings players are all kids."

Players from both sides looked down on each other, calling each other garbage—a silent war was unfolding across all social networks.

Players were easily swayed by trends; many were drawn over—this was a zero-sum dynamic.

The two games were direct competitors!

All People Super God topped the App Store free chart in its first month on iOS, instantly surpassing Honor of Kings' numbers—truly terrifying.

Tencent was still formidable; Chang'e Technology lacked Douyin's advantage and couldn't yet match them.

For these results, All People Super God posted on its official blog: "All People Super Glory!"

Swan Castle replied with just one sentence: "We'll see this through to the end—we'll fight to the death!"

The two sides began tearing into each other without any reason whatsoever.

Competition in the gaming industry has always existed; Tencent and Pig Factory have been fighting for years, and they're still competing—it's normal.

Fang Hong gave Swan Castle the operation team for Honor of Kings with one word: "Stable!"

Tencent's early games were all masterpieces; be honest, after a while they all revealed their bloodsucking nature—it's always been like this.

Honor of Kings just needs to hold steady; wait for the opponent to self-destruct!

The world works this way: if you can endure, you win—even international trade wars are like this.

Before Chang'e Technology took off on Douyin this year, it faced challenges from multiple sides; Fang Hong dared not slack off, choosing a step-by-step strategy.

As long as there's money flowing in, there's nothing to fear, because he never took a wrong path.

Even if Honor of Kings faced challenges, due to its massive player base, monthly revenue still exceeded 500 million.

Even if it's half, that's 250 million a month, 3 billion a year—just wait for All People Super God to die.

Hero Glory's revenue, after the Second Global Grand Finals, also rose steadily, exceeding 135 million U. S. dollars a month, over 945 million RMB.

Unlike mobile games, PC games don't split revenue with phone manufacturers; 80 to 90 percent flows back to Swan Castle—it's too much money.

Just these two games, monthly revenue exceeds 1.1 billion—truly terrifying.

Now Chang'e Technology isn't short of money at all; even if Chang'e Video and Bilibili's losses are growing, they can afford it—worst case, they give them 1 billion U. S. dollars in losses per year.

There's still 800 million U. S. dollars left to invest in development.

But now Chang'e Technology is acquiring Lightline's shares on TuPiaoPiao, which should cost about 200 to 300 million U. S. dollars.

Negotiations are still ongoing; Gao Zhun wants to push the price below 2 billion, to 1.9 billion for full acquisition, but Lightline insists on 2 billion.

They're haggling over just one or two hundred million.

It's normal—if Gao Zhun can acquire it for one or two hundred million less, it's still a merit.

Outside, all kinds of conflicts are raging; Xu Laoguai's The Taking of Tiger Mountain has been in theaters for nearly two weeks, still earning tens of millions in box office daily.

He's now free, with time to prepare for the filming of Ex Machina 2.

He called Liu Tianxian, telling her to get in shape quickly—the shoot will begin in spring.

Liu Tianxian, having just rested a few days, had to get back into serious physical training; after all, working with a great director, she took it seriously.

Xu Laoguai wanted her to train for strength—not to be soft and limp like those pretty boys, lacking even the power to strike, yet needing to clash with remote Special Effects.

He also wanted her to practice body coordination—her movements must be cool, elegant, and crisp.

Don't be like those pretty boys, light-bodied and unable to withstand martial arts moves.

Hearing Xu Laoguai's words, Liu Tianxian didn't dare slack off; she did dumbbell lifts and split kicks to the sky every day.

At this moment, Fang Hong watched Liu Tianxian in the empty practice room, standing on one leg, the other leg extended in a perfect split to the sky, training her coordination.

She wore tight yoga pants and a green crop top—very sexy.

"Train hard," Fang Hong said, waving a stick beside her, sounding mighty. "Look at how limp you are—you won't fight well. You might as well give this chance to Xiang Zuo."

"Get lost! No matter how I fight, I won't look as bad as him!" Liu Tianxian sneered.

She'd seen that guy—he looked like an idiot son.

"Not necessarily," Fang Hong said. "There was a rugged young man who starred in a wuxia drama, and fans said he was worse than Xiang Zuo."

"Who's that? I don't remember." Liu Tianxian thought but couldn't recall.

"Don't care who. Just train hard and don't embarrass me," Fang Hong circled around her.

"Get out of here, don't disturb me," Liu Tianxian held her pose motionless, eyes darting side to side—because this man circling her made her dizzy.

"Say that again," Fang Hong swung his stick and struck her ass.

"I'll beat you to a pulp!" Liu Tianxian exploded upward.

Fang Hong turned and ran.

(End of Chapter)