Chapter 584: Three Legs Standing Together

The room fell silent for a moment, the bodyguard staring at Liu Tianxian, his heart uneasy.

Liu Tianxian thought for a moment, then looked at the bodyguard again; he instinctively flinched away from her gaze, clearly guilty.

"Since your family is in such hardship, take me to see it." Liu Tianxian proposed.

"Huh?" The bodyguard froze, then straightened: "How could I possibly trouble you?"

Liu Tianxian stood up, facing the bodyguard; her tall figure was no less imposing than his. "I haven't reviewed your background checks in years, but I've always known—don't try to fool me."

The bodyguard fell silent; his lie had been exposed in two sentences, mostly because he was guilty.

He simply wanted to make money—someone offered a high price, so he sold out, driven by a reckless, lucky-break psychology; everyone who had worked with Liu Tianxian knew she was lenient with those around her, never punishing small mistakes or issues.

She rarely managed the studio—Liu Xiaoli handled most affairs—and with Liu Xiaoli away during this period, this man had gained courage.

In truth, his family had no hardship—what hardship could there be? His salary was high, and he had full social insurance and housing fund contributions.

He was simply greedy, unable to resist the temptation.

The one offering the price wasn't an individual, but media and fan intermediaries.

That day, before Liu Tianxian even left the plane, dozens of fans and media outlets already knew she had returned and were waiting at the airport.

Otherwise, the article condemning Liu Tianxian for exploiting fans to disrupt public order wouldn't have been published so quickly.

Writing an article takes thought, and review takes time too.

Their chain was simple: the bodyguard was the primary source—he sold the info to a representative, who then passed it through multiple intermediaries, selling each piece for about 50 yuan to fans.

A thousand buyers meant 50,000 yuan; ten thousand meant 500,000 yuan. Given Liu Tianxian's current popularity and status, fans eager to pay were as numerous as fish crossing a river, and prices could rise even higher—to 70 or 80 yuan.

Some fans didn't buy to chase her—they just wanted to know her schedule, what she was doing—so the base number was huge.

Of course, this base number applied only to a star of Liu Tianxian's caliber and popularity—she was currently top-tier, even foreigners bought in.

The bodyguard, holding primary information and selling it to media and others, could easily earn hundreds of thousands.

What job pays hundreds of thousands a month? Earning over 100,000 is already extremely elite—and this was a one-time windfall; few could resist.

Still, the bodyguard had a bottom line—he only sold Liu Tianxian's schedule.

But then again, Liu Tianxian's staff couldn't access much of her private information; even if they did, it held little value, because she only brought them along for public activities or events, rarely otherwise—especially when with Fang Hong.

So in her staff's eyes, her privacy was clean; to outsiders, it seemed the same.

Paparazzi couldn't find her secrets—how much privacy could staff uncover, since they only accompanied her during work?

Do you know what your colleague does behind your back?

"You can leave now—I won't keep you—but I reserve the right to hold you accountable." Liu Tianxian spoke more firmly, leaving no room for negotiation.

Selling her schedule was one thing; lying was another—his heart was no longer pure.

Her meaning was clear: if he leaked any more of her information, she wouldn't show mercy.

"Thank you, Sister Yifei!" The bodyguard bowed deeply.

Even if fired and cast out, he felt little resentment—if this had been anyone else, he'd already been ruined, branded with a stain, and no one would hire him again.

He was lucky to have worked for Liu Tianxian.

His earlier struggle and lies were only to stay by her side—such a good boss and employer was hard to find.

Liu Tianxian nodded, said nothing more, watching as the bodyguard passed her, opened the door, and walked out.

Outside, the young assistant saw the bodyguard emerge with his head down, Liu Tianxian's face stern—she was stunned, unsure what had happened.

"Sis…" the assistant started to ask.

"It's nothing—just do your job. Did you notify the driver? Tell him not to bother." Liu Tianxian feared the driver was still waiting.

"Already notified—the driver has returned the car to the garage," the assistant said.

Liu Tianxian fell silent, her mood still somewhat heavy—after all, the bodyguard had followed her for so many years.

But then she thought: those on different paths cannot walk together; some are destined to be passersby.

She had just returned to her office when she received a call from an unknown number; she answered it.

"Yifei, how have you been lately?" The voice was magnetic.

"Zhang Ju?" Liu Tianxian sounded surprised.

"It's me. Is it convenient to talk?" Zhang Hongsen worried she was busy or had an event.

"Yes, I'm at the office, not out." Liu Tianxian's tone grew relaxed.

"Then I'll get straight to it: Gravity will be used as a Party-themed film. We want you to be the narrator—do you have any objections?" Zhang Hongsen said.

"Huh?!" Liu Tianxian was startled. "What am I supposed to talk about?"

"Talk about the spirit, the theme—anything. We'll give you a script," Zhang Hongsen spoke far more gently to Liu Tianxian than he did to others.

He was harsher with Fang Hong because they knew each other well; with Liu Tianxian, he was less familiar, so he was more polite.

This made Liu Tianxian both excited and nervous—she knew exactly who she'd be facing.

"Will I be speaking on stage?" she asked.

"Yes. I'll notify you later—clear your schedule these next few days," Zhang Hongsen said.

"Do I need to prepare anything?" Liu Tianxian's heart rose—she felt immense pressure.

"No!"

Zhang Hongsen hung up.

Liu Tianxian held her phone, her mind unsettled—just thinking about it made her feel lost and afraid to face it.

After a long while, she finally exhaled softly.

That night, Liu Tianxian lay in bed wearing a silk nightgown, telling the man beside her about it, her voice still tinged with excitement.

"I know—Old Zhang called me," Fang Hong said calmly.

"Then why didn't he call you? Why me?" Liu Tianxian turned on her side, propping her head with one hand, gazing at him, her fingers lightly stroking his chest.

"He said I look ugly, untrustworthy, and lack warmth—listen to that," Fang Hong still remembered, sounding annoyed.

"Ge ge ge!" Liu Tianxian covered her mouth, laughing out goose-like cackles.

"He wants me to pass on a message to you? I'll pass on a pile of shit to him." Fang Hong was still angry.

Liu Tianxian burst into loud laughter, shaking as if she might faint—this was how she laughed.

Only after she finally caught her breath did she say: "Alright, alright, maybe Zhang Ju just meant it without ill intent."

"Sigh, this world, only you think I'm handsome." Fang Hong sighed.

"That's right, that's right, they're all blind—let's ignore them." Liu Tianxian found it funny, reached out, hugged him, and patted his back gently, her posture tender.

The bedroom lights were dim, only the bedside lamp lit; outside, the sky was already pitch black.

In the quiet environment, occasional whispers of their conversation mixed with hiccup-like giggles.

"Did you find the mole?" Fang Hong asked.

"Found him—he was the bodyguard. I've already fired him."

Liu Tianxian, under the covers, facing him, added: "You know, that guy lied to me—he said he had a sick mother, a gambling father, a sister in school, and a girlfriend demanding millions in bride price."

"Ha," Fang Hong chuckled strangely, "That's way too clumsy. Probably couldn't think of a better excuse, just made it up."

"It was made up. Even though I'm usually lenient with people around me, I still know their basic situations pretty well. They thought they could fool me like an idiot." Liu Tianxian nodded.

"You always give off the impression of being kind, emotional, holding everything inside—so some people get bold, think you're easygoing, easy to fool. I never expected they'd fail to fool you." Fang Hong chuckled.

The first part sounded fine, but those last two sentences made Liu Tianxian glare and slap his face: "Am I really that easy to fool?"

"If a pretty girl said that, she could actually fool a boy." Fang Hong said.

This joke wasn't popular yet—but by the time it became popular, many had already been tricked.

Probably the bodyguard liked to hang out, frequented all kinds of clubs, heard enough stories, and cooked up this excuse.

"Then your boys' judgment is way too weak."

"Not weak—just exploited our boys' sympathy. You know, we boys can't stand seeing girls suffer, so we easily fall for it."

Fang Hong added: "Zhang The Promise's mother said it best: the prettier the girl, the better she lies."

"Are you hinting at me?" Liu Tianxian pointed at herself.

"No, you're not beautiful—you're a loser girl in my eyes." Fang Hong said. "Hey, you're calling me that!" Liu Tianxian said, then tickled his stomach, making him squirm and flail his arms wildly.

They started wrestling; Liu Tianxian flipped over and sat on top of him, pinning down his wriggling body.

Then she interlocked her fingers with his and pressed them above his head: "See if you dare fight back."

"I can't fight back—you can't either." Fang Hong said.

Their fingers were locked together; neither could move.

"But I can still punish you." Liu Tianxian wiggled her hips, making Fang Hong cry out incoherently.

"Spare me, spare me, lady hero, have mercy!"

"Hehehe, now you know my power!" Liu Tianxian gloated.

"I know, I know—you're just relying on your big butt." Fang Hong dared to say.

"Can't you say something nicer?" Liu Tianxian wiggled again; Fang Hong beneath her groaned in agony—mostly because she was heavy sitting on him.

Of course, there was some acting—he pretended to scream "Ah ah!" but wasn't really hurt.

They were just playing; Liu Tianxian had limits—she wouldn't crush her man, just applied a little pressure.

When they grew tired, Liu Tianxian curled up like a little woman in Fang Hong's arms, listening to his heartbeat—it was warm.

Fang Hong stroked her smooth, long hair: "So you'll need to hire another bodyguard."

"Definitely." Liu Tianxian said.

Without a bodyguard, her outings and promotions would be troublesome.

"Then I'll help you find one—hire a professional team to serve you, not random individuals. You're not what you were a few years ago—your status has risen, so your support must upgrade too." Fang Hong said.

Previously, although Liu Tianxian was popular, it wasn't this extreme—her old bodyguard setup no longer matched her status.

And the bodyguard's quality must improve too—who knows how long ago she hired that one?

"That's fine—I'll personally oversee it." Liu Tianxian nodded lightly; it wasn't a big deal.

The bodyguard doesn't interfere with her private life anyway.

In the coming days, Fang Hong continued adjusting the company structure, handling cinema acquisitions, and building the circuit brand.

This project had been underway since Big Hero 6's release and success, handled with Meng Jun's cooperation.

In January, Yutu acquired 33 cinemas and 151 screens from Zhongguang Circuit for 175 million yuan.

Recently, it acquired 60 cinemas and 500 screens from Shimao Circuit for 364 million yuan.

Total: 93 cinemas, 651 screens.

Both acquisitions were premium purchases—just throwing money around, no fancy negotiations. The market has heated up; major capital is eager to expand cinemas.

Fang Hong is racing against time—getting ahead of them. Even one step ahead is enough.

Moreover, authorities are already advancing the process of allowing capital into cinemas.

Currently, China's cinema circuits are a chaotic era—fragmented, messy, with countless disorganized circuit brands.

The future belongs to consolidation. Rather than wait for capital to swallow him and control him, Fang Hong prefers to act himself.

Times have changed. Previously, China Film Group held them down; now, China Film Group can't hold them anymore. With capital entering, powerful players who don't want your money can still restrict you.

So this is why Fang Hong plans to acquire cinemas—owning them is better than relying on others.

Cinemas are money-hungry—not just buying them is enough. Equipment, renovation, operation, maintenance, and rent for leased venues—all cost money.

Add staff recruitment, water, electricity, and it's not cheap. Companies like Huayi can barely afford twenty or thirty cinemas—more than that is unsustainable. It's heavy asset.

Just the projectors alone cost tens of thousands each—six hundred plus screens mean tens of millions.

Many of these projectors haven't been replaced—they're still old models from years ago. Same with other equipment, even the seats and interiors.

So after Yutu takes over, it must spend money renovating. Since it's currently off-season, they can renovate the cinemas, remove the old signs, and install the new brand: Crystal United Cinema!

This is another significant expense, but expansion is necessary.

Fang Hong sorted out the matters of the Jade Rabbit, then arrived at Chang'e Technology; although Chang'e Technology faced turbulence last year, it remained largely stable, having weathered its most difficult year.

The days ahead still face challenges!

Fortunately, the company's overall performance is upward; Toutiao is growing the fastest, with daily active users surpassing fifty million and a penetration rate of 32.6%.

It ranks behind Tencent News and UC as an information platform.

That means fifty million people are watching news and information on it every day — this traffic is truly terrifying.

This is why Fang Hong wanted Chang'e to enter TuPiaoPiao: to leverage Chang'e Technology's various platform channels for promotion.

Tighter integration between both sides, data analysis, such as recommending specific movies to specific demographics.

Alibaba does big data-driven movies; TuPiaoPiao and Chang'e can also do big data-driven movie viewing — categorizing users and viewing habits.

All of this can be classified as data analysis.

Chang'e Video's year-opening drama, "He With the Flute and the Zither," not only became the top-rated show, but its total online views exceeded fifty billion within twenty days of airing.

It became the drama with the highest average views per episode, surpassing "The Empress of China."

Online, the topic #HeWithTheFluteAndTheZither# generated over six billion discussions — an undeniable hit drama that brought massive traffic to Chang'e Video.

In addition, over the past two or three months, Chang'e Video has aired "Baiyi Xiao Yu Dazhantui 2," "My Beautiful Teacher 58," and other web dramas, filling the gap in Chang'e Video's content and stabilizing its position in the first tier of long-form video platforms.

This is thanks to Fang Hong's early strong support for web dramas—besides the Jade Rabbit's copyright library, no other production companies' copyrights were acquired; all were supported as web dramas.

Of course, Chang'e Video now still seeks "stability," continuously producing new content to remain firmly in the first tier.

Chang'e Technology's management held a major meeting; Fang Hong delivered a speech in the large conference hall, where Zhang Yiming, Zhang Nan, Zhang Lidong, Yang Zhenyuan, Gao Zhun, and other core members sat on either side.

"Starting this year, Chang'e Technology must abandon conservative development and pursue massive leapfrog growth, aiming to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Alibaba and Tencent within two or three years — and surpass them."

The earlier parts were acceptable, since Chang'e Technology now has some operating funds; but what followed sounded like fantasy.

Those present exchanged glances — surpass Alibaba and Tencent? These two companies are the pinnacle of Chinese enterprise.

They're already at the peak — how can you surpass them? Do you plan to step on Tianxin and break out of the domestic market?

"Don't think it's impossible — it's very possible. Do you want to keep being bullied by these two? Keep being overshadowed by them? I won't accept it." Fang Hong scanned the room.

Those present looked at each other, their eyes filled with determination — they had always had determination.

Otherwise, they wouldn't have harbored ill will toward Tencent.

"If we go aggressive, covering current losses across our platforms with current revenue will be tight," said Gao Zhun, the CFO, who had the numbers in mind and laid out the specifics.

Last year, Bilibili lost over one hundred million U. S. dollars, meeting its original target of a one-billion-dollar loss.

If we go aggressive, this year we'll lose over two hundred million U. S. dollars — meaning just this one platform will lose 1.5 billion, a conservative estimate.

Chang'e Video lost 158 million U. S. dollars last year, roughly 1.1 billion.

This is operational loss: costs and expenses are too high; bandwidth costs alone rose 95.6%, personnel-related costs increased 47.9%, and marketing and promotion expenses rose 119.2%.

Content costs rose 105.7% — that's actually acceptable, since other companies are at 150% or higher — terrifying.

Last year, we made many investments, supporting various web dramas and studios.

That means, if the Principal goes aggressive, we must prepare at least 500 million U. S. dollars in losses from just these two platforms.

Also, Xiaohongshu's traffic has risen, but it hasn't turned profitable; building bonded warehouses everywhere is a significant expense.

Douyin also needs promotion and operation — it's still in a loss state and not profitable.

This is only a conservative calculation — ten billion U. S. dollars might not even be enough.

Losses are only one side; there are also the 1.99 billion paid for Guangxian's acquisition, plus salaries, operational and promotion costs, and the 6.3 billion loan — all kinds of expenditures.

Just salaries amount to three or four hundred million per month; the company now has nearly twenty thousand employees, and programmers' salaries are already high, not to mention some executives and mid-level managers, whose salaries are also high.

These costs add up to roughly 1.8 to 1.9 billion U. S. dollars — this is the aggressive conservative cost, and it's certainly insufficient, mainly because taxes haven't even been included.

Game revenue can cover it, but games themselves have R&D departments and projects to develop; add taxes, and although games are extremely profitable, taxes are also very high due to a progressive tax rate.

Currently, the revenue from two games can cover Chang'e Technology's current cost expenditures and still leave a surplus.

But we don't know how aggressive the Principal wants to be — if he plans some major move or even a minor stir, we'll be in trouble.

For example, acquiring another company, or responding to some crisis.

(End of Chapter)