Chapter 568

It is normal for a film to receive both praise and criticism, but neither diminishes the fact that Gravity is a milestone-level domestic special effects blockbuster.

The next day, on the second day of the New Year, Gravity's box office dropped slightly to 360 million.

It fell by about twenty million.

It's normal—pre-sales and patriotic hype had boosted it initially, but it was never heavily marketed to begin with.

Once the pre-sale tickets were consumed, it relied solely on its own quality, and fortunately, the quality was solid with few refunds.

If mass refunds occurred, the following days would see negative box office growth.

Because new ticket sales couldn't offset pre-sale refunds, the total would turn negative.

Such a phenomenon hasn't appeared yet—it will emerge ten years from now. Today, fans who pre-booked tickets actually go to watch; if they don't watch, they still pay. At least Liu Tianxian's fans do.

Gravity's screening share is not high, around 25%, all sustained by pre-sales.

With big data now widespread, cinemas must adjust screenings based on pre-sales, since pre-sales lock seats in advance.

Pre-booking seats has this advantage: you can know in advance whether a film will draw a large audience, and screen more if it will, less if it won't.

China's current cinema scale can support such box office figures; according to released data, there are now 5,730 cinemas nationwide, with over 28,000 screens—a scale comparable to that of the United States.

The United States also has just over 5,700 cinemas.

Ticket prices are low now, nowhere near the exaggerated 50 or 60 yuan later; the average is currently 30 to 40 yuan, and with fierce ticketing market competition, discounts are common.

Later, box office exploded due to easier ticket purchasing and continuously rising ticket prices.

This made capital markets see an opportunity; they colluded with cinemas to distort audience taste, forcing audiences to swallow formulaic films with fresh-faced idols and big directors, relying on gimmicks—though this model hasn't fully formed yet, it's essentially money laundering.

If it had formed, the film industry wouldn't have seen so many new filmmakers emerge; capital's initial influx was inherently chaotic.

China's current film market is still in a crude development phase.

Gravity's two-day box office exploded past 700 million, crushing all other films, with a Douban rating of 7.8—both box office and word-of-mouth exploded.

Since its release, Tu Piaopiao's promotional campaign had already begun intensifying.

"Film Gravity: Immersive Interstellar Exploration, Unparalleled Sensory Experience!"

"Gravity: A Visual Feast!"

"Spring Festival's Top Choice—Five Stars Aren't Enough! Gravity Has Brought Chinese Sci-Fi to World-Class Level!"

"."

Such headlines flooded every social portal—Tencent, Sina, Weibo, Tieba, Toutiao, Bilibili.

A wave of word-of-mouth promotion swept across the nation, no longer relying on rumors for hype.

Hype is somewhat damaging to one's reputation, because your marketing has nothing to do with the work itself; once you draw audience attention, you must quickly shift focus to the film's actual quality.

Don't learn from weight loss—it's a failed case. You make money, but ruin your reputation entirely, like a one-time scam.

Currently, Gravity's popularity is suppressing the promotional heat of other films.

In fact, it had already suppressed them before!

Fang Hong couldn't guarantee this film would make money, because domestically in his past life, box office was poor; but overseas, it exploded, so Fang Hong resorted to the "patriotic card."

The first domestic sci-fi blockbuster cannot fail—failure would strike a blow to the entire industry. Don't think the authorities are silent; Zhang Hongsen is watching closely.

They gave so many advantages and conveniences upfront, hoping you'd lead the sci-fi trend, elevate the film industry, and close the gap with Hollywood.

If it fails, it will be a crushing blow to industry confidence!

After Gravity became a domestic film, its overseas box office performance was not strong—it took a major hit.

According to data from Universal, in North America, it opened in 1,200 theaters on day one, earning only $6.02 million—equivalent to about 400 million yuan—a 60–70% drop compared to his past life.

For Universal, this was decent, since it's a Chinese-language film; but for Fang Hong, it was far from ideal.

So once the film's nature changed, box office could no longer be guaranteed; Fang Hong could only ensure the domestic market didn't lose money, making sure domestic audiences could sustain a big film, while overseas profits were left to fate.

As more people watched Gravity, they spread the word: "Gravity is awesome," while simultaneously trashing every other film.

They called Dragon Blade a mess of historical inaccuracies.

They called Zhong Kui: Snow and Fire's special effects crude, its story ridiculous, its pacing sluggish—criticized mercilessly by audiences, even worse than Dragon Blade, with a rating as low as 4.2.

One-star and two-star ratings accounted for over 67%, more than half the audience venting about this film.

From Vegas to Macau 2 was also a star-studded flop, accused of having a clichéd plot, chaotic logic, zero sincerity, and being nothing but a money-grabbing project.

All other films were equally terrible; besides Gravity, not a single good film existed in this Spring Festival Slot.

As word-of-mouth continued to spread, on the third day, long winding queues formed outside cinemas nationwide.

Gravity's box office on the third day of the New Year rose against the trend, reaching 390 million!

It remained far ahead, crushing all other films released during the same period, preventing even one from breaking 100 million, let alone 50 million.

Even the most anticipated Dragon Blade earned only 300–400 million; From Vegas to Macau 2 earned the same.

In his past life, audiences had no choice—everything was trash; now they have options, and can watch a film that meets standards in visuals, plot, and sensory thrills—who still watches trash?

Gravity broke 1 billion in three days; Liu Tianxian overshadowed all other film stars—Fa Ge, Fang Long, Li Bailian.

The media rushed to report it.

"Gravity Breaks 1 Billion in Three Days! Why Is Liu Tianxian Becoming More Box Office-Proof?"

"Gravity Explodes at 1 Billion! Liu Tianxian Reclaims Divine Status, Becomes China's Top Box Office Queen!"

"."

Such exaggerated headlines were everywhere, but one headline was especially bold: "Breaks 1 Billion in 3 Days, Tops Box Office for Two Consecutive Years—Proof: It's Not Liu Tianxian Who Needs the Spring Festival, But the Spring Festival That Needs Liu Tianxian!"

The last film to dominate the Spring Festival Slot was The Binding.

"Breaks 1 Billion in 3 Days—Proof: It's Not Liu Tianxian Who Needs the Spring Festival, But Liu Tianxian Who Makes the Spring Festival More Brilliant!"

This headline was rapidly reposted by countless media outlets, becoming the new hot topic—nothing else mattered; it was bold and catchy, while other "box office queen" headlines were too ordinary—only "The Spring Festival Needs Liu Tianxian" had enough buzz.

It was enough to elevate her far above other actresses of her tier.

Gravity also appeared on Satellite TV news; reporters at a cinema in Hangzhou saw crowds coming and going, bustling with activity, as many citizens chose to come with family and friends to watch.

According to the cinema manager, this year's number of viewers at this cinema increased by about 30% compared to the same period last year.

The highly anticipated Gravity's prime-time showings were almost sold out, with many Wangyi saying, "Tickets are impossible to get!"

Reporters learned that most audiences chose Gravity as their top movie pick; one viewer said, "Absolutely explosive! The visuals and Best Special Effects are amazing."

"Better than expected! Better than any other movie."

"Liu Tianxian acted so well—I'm planning to watch it again."

"I'm starting to believe why this movie was banned in the United States—the Best Special Effects are so realistic, it feels like you're really in space."

"."

Seeing Gravity's box office dominance, Yu Fatty, General Manager Xiao Wang, and other film producers were powerless.

Latest updates exclusively on the first platform!

Others make money—they not only run great marketing but also make great movies. What can you say?

You picked this Spring Festival Slot—accept the loss if you lost!

Just as Gravity ignited the Spring Festival Slot domestically, Fang Hong, Liu Tianxian, and Shi Zhi Mao boarded a flight to Los Angeles at 9 p. m. on the third day of the New Year.

Before departure, Liu Xiaoli and Xu Liyun repeatedly warned them to be careful and stay safe abroad.

"I used to travel alone. Now someone sees me off, and family members give me advice—it feels wonderful," Fang Hong said, lying on the soft, comfortable seat in first class.

When this seat is reclined, it's like a bed.

"Now you have someone with you—aren't you happy?" Liu Tianxian held his hand, with a tray between them.

"Yes!" Fang Hong laughed.

"Go to sleep—we'll arrive early tomorrow," Liu Tianxian pulled the blanket over him, then lay down herself.

After lying down, she didn't close her eyes; her mind slipped into memory. She remembered, five years ago, right after Spring Festival, they had each set off for the United States.

Back then, neither knew the other was going to the United States, yet they met on a cruise ship—perhaps this was fate, wonderfully inexplicable.

She still clearly remembered every detail of their time on the cruise ship—she had been lost and desolate, while this man had constantly comforted and encouraged her.

"Be grateful; life is beautiful. Accept the good version of yourself, and also accept the bad version," the man had told her then.

She remembered those words clearly—even now, they gave her strength, helping her face calmly all gossip, rumors, and disputes.

"What are you thinking about?" Fang Hong's face suddenly appeared before her.

Startled, Liu Tianxian, whose thoughts were already scattered, slapped him: "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Your eyes are vacant—you're thinking about something. What is it? Share it," Fang Hong said.

"I'm thinking—you better be careful," Liu Tianxian boldly patted his face.

Fang Hong looked at her suspiciously: "You still remember that?"

"If you can remember it, how can I forget?" Liu Tianxian lifted her small face, looking proud and petulant.

Five years ago, when they parted on the cruise ship, Liu Tianxian had said to him: "You better be careful."

Both remembered. Neither had forgotten.

"Come on, do it again," Fang Hong moved from his seat to Liu Tianxian's side, squeezing in beside her.

"Do what?" Liu Tianxian shifted slightly to give him more space.

Since the seats were designed for one person, accommodating two made it very tight—they had to press closely together.

First-class cabins on international flights offered excellent privacy: some had two people per compartment, others one person per compartment.

All were wealthy; what they cared about was privacy.

"Come on, kiss me. We kissed on the cruise—on the plane we must kiss too, to leave a beautiful memory," Fang Hong wrapped his arms around her waist, adjusting her body until they faced each other.

"What if someone sees?" Liu Tianxian glanced around—no one was there, it was perfectly quiet.

Even so, she felt like she was sneaking around—not as free as at home; after all, this was still a semi-public place.

"So what if they see? I'm kissing my wife—it's not illegal. Don't you think they don't kiss?" Fang Hong said as if it were obvious.

"You talk so crudely," Liu Tianxian said.

"This is who I am for life—I can't change even if I wanted to," Fang Hong said.

"No need to change—it's perfect," Liu Tianxian whispered. After all, she thought it was perfect; if he changed, he'd lose his character.

A man who seemed dull wasn't interesting at all.

They puckered their lips and kissed deeply, tongues entwining; after some time, they pulled apart.

Fang Hong's hand stroked her delicate cheek, gazing at the person so close and asking, "Sweet?"

"Sweet! Sweeter than five years ago!" Liu Tianxian's eyes shimmered with tenderness.

"Why sweeter than five years ago? Isn't it the same?" Fang Hong was puzzled.

"Because now you're my husband!"

Five years ago, they weren't even lovers; now they were husband and wife, with the element of "love" between them.

So now, the kiss, the saliva—was sweeter.

(End of Chapter)