Chapter 655: Unprecedented Great Change

At the end of October, apart from Goodbye Mr. Loser, which still earned several million daily at the box office and could surge to tens of millions on weekends,

other films like The Tower of the Demon God and Rescue Me were earning almost nothing daily; a few hundred thousand was already good.

The former's total box office had surpassed six hundred million, while the latter was barely close to two hundred million, still under two hundred million.

Also, Gangnam Style, which had been screening for over a month, had reached its end with 1.6 billion in box office; further growth was impossible.

All other obscure films were cannon fodder.

The only winners of these two periods were Gangnam Style and Goodbye Mr. Loser; although the latter had slightly lower box office, its total reached 1.4 billion.

But in terms of influence, it surpassed Gangnam Style!

It not only made Shen Teng a huge star, but also made Ma Li and all the supporting actors famous, since they were all previously unknown actors, and suddenly many became popular.

Even the behind-the-scenes team of Happy Mahua behind this film attracted capital attention.

Simply because the genre of low-budget realistic comedy was extremely scarce—only they had done it well, and very few teams could handle this genre well, giving it scarcity.

Even Xu Guangtou relied on the actors' own characteristics; he needed actors like Huang Bo and Wang Baoqiang with distinct personalities—if not for them, Xu Guangtou alone could never have carried the film.

Previously, Happy Mahua had only created stage plays and skits, virtually unknown in the film and television circle; now, thanks to Goodbye Mr. Loser, they had firmly established themselves and gained great fame.

Another new film and television company had risen, attracting the favor of numerous capitals, with its valuation once soaring to 5.4 billion.

Its founder Zhang Chen instantly became a hot commodity; his 11% equity stake suddenly became worth over six hundred million, making him a billionaire overnight.

But this company had long been absorbed by Yutu and had become its subsidiary; any capital wanting to enter could only buy equity from Yutu, and clearly Yutu had no shortage of money.

Or they could buy from Zhang Chen, but he held very little left; selling more would leave him with almost nothing.

Now, Happy Mahua, backed by Yutu, lacked no resources—Yutu provided money when needed and channels when needed; they only needed to make good films.

As for how well they made them, Yutu didn't care.

Of course, Zhang Chen wanted to go public, hoping to further increase his own value through an IPO.

Fang Hong let them do as they wished—go public if they wanted—but he knew this company would fail to go public.

If it failed next year, the chances in the next seven or eight years would be slim; another attempt at going public would have to wait until after the Black Swan Event.

Because the entertainment industry over these years would expose a series of financial and ethical issues.

This was why he had previously instructed Yu Pangzi to delist Bona this year and ensure listing next year.

Now Yu Pangzi had gained support from all shareholders and reclaimed the equity held by Sequoia; he only awaited approval from the U. S. stock market to apply for delisting and domestic listing.

Of course, Fang Hong couldn't do nothing—he was willing to offer 10% to incentivize Happy Mahua's employees as a show of support; if the IPO succeeded, their wealth would skyrocket.

After listing, they could cash out on the secondary market.

This left Happy Mahua's core creative team and Shen Teng and others feeling extremely pleased.

"Still better to follow the Principal—there's meat to eat," said Song Yang, grinning with his crooked teeth, feeling immensely satisfied—he had received some equity, given to him as a gift.

He was also a core creator, having written and directed The Sassy Iron Fist and The Super Family.

He could also act—he could write, direct, and perform.

"Never thought I'd get rich by accident—saved me decades of hard work!" Shen Teng laughed.

Others all laughed heartily in agreement; 10% equity meant the Principal had given them over five hundred million.

Of course, this move bypassed Zhang Chen entirely and gave equity directly to the core layer, effectively Fang Hong buying loyalty and preventing outside capital from poaching talent.

Zhang Chen knew this situation well and had nothing to say.

Fang Hong's development goal for him was to keep expanding comedy talent—the current writers, creators, and performers were still too few, only over forty people.

They needed to expand tenfold; without three or four hundred core creative staff, they were not qualified.

The goal was to preserve their core competitiveness—if Happy Mahua couldn't establish its own comedy identity, it had no core competitiveness and was destined to be eliminated.

So they must maintain comedy as this core element—no matter how bad the films were, as long as the audience laughed.

The punchlines were precisely the hardest part, requiring the collision of ideas from many people; this was why comedy was hard to make, because it was difficult to conceive gags and ideas.

One person simply couldn't generate enough ideas and would soon run dry, just like the Seven Weirdos of Cinema City.

They nearly overthrew Golden Harvest, but later due to ideological differences and lack of focus on creation, they eventually split.

So comedy needed fresh blood—it couldn't rely only on a few people or just one person's ideas.

It needed to become a system, a structure, like Yutu.

These 10% equity shares were registered by themselves in Tianjin under a company named Shuiyue as their holding platform.

That is, this company owned 10% of Happy Mahua's equity, and its shareholders included Yan Fei, Peng Damo, Song Yang, and other key members.

It also included top artists like Shen Teng and Ma Li.

Thus, everyone benefited, binding all of them together.

Of course, they were free to start their own companies and monetize their fame—monetizing was the polite term; everyone understood the less polite meaning.

After all, the taxes paid by the company were significantly lower compared to personal income.

Happy Mahua, as a rising new film and television company, had long since entered Yutu's embrace.

But many film and television companies rose this year—Zhenledao, Huanxi, Ruyi, Beijing Culture, Blue Sky Pictures, Hengdian Film, and others.

All were powerful; Happy Mahua was not the only one—success with one film meant nothing.

Now there were many new directors and new successes—Xu Guangtou, Wu Jin, Chen Sicheng, and others—all rising stars.

Of course, Yutu had not stopped expanding; live-action film and television had little left to do—just proceed step by step.

Yutu was expanding in animation, recently re-establishing a company called Qianying, under which it controlled five animation studios and companies: Shiyue Culture, Coco Bean Animation, Hongli Culture, Sparkly Key Animation, and Bian'an Tian Wenhua.

Shiyue Culture was Tian Xiaopeng's company; Coco Bean Animation was Jiaozi's company; Hongli Culture was the company behind the animation Jiang Ziya.

It also invested in Sparkly Key Animation, a Hangzhou-based 3D digital content production company that made The Qin Dynasty: The Legend of the Moon.

It also produced The Soul Land, Tianbao Fuyalu, and The Devouring Star.

Yutu was effectively leading the animation industry forward, with adaptations of Fighter of the Destiny already streaming on Bilibili and Chang'e Video.

But it hadn't caused much sensation or broken out of its niche—the total viewership for the first season was only 500 million, achieved over a year with traffic subsidies.

The platform's support and the two-way traffic of a large fanbase produced these results, but they did not give up; an animation adaptation of Mortal's Journey to Immortality is coming soon.

Markets must be cultivated; at first, things are inevitably poor, but not enough to lose money—it takes time, at least enough to replace part of Japan's animation.

We can't let Japan monopolize this segment—what would the twenty to thirty thousand animation workers eat?

There are too few people in this industry—less than a million workers—so the animation industry must be built up.

This is a high-end industry; skilled workers can earn over ten thousand yuan a month, solving many people's livelihoods; this profession has a nickname: Digital Craftsmen.

But all this happens subtly; ordinary people see industry changes but don't know how or what's driving them.

So no one knew the Principal was pushing behind the scenes, but those above were certainly watching.

The competition between Jade Rabbit and Huayi has not stopped.

While Fang Hong was busy developing Jade Rabbit, he did not abandon trying to secure Da Baobei's endorsement deals.

He contacted the market department of Chow Tai Fook's Neidi subsidiary; they agreed to change endorsers, but could not reach agreement on Liu Tianxian's endorsement.

They offered endorsement for only one product line—the fashion-luxury line—not the entire brand.

Fang Hong wanted a full-brand endorsement, fitting Liu Tianxian's status and clout; but Chow Tai Fook wouldn't give it—only a product line, not the whole brand.

The two sides remained deadlocked until talks collapsed.

In fact, Da Baobei's collaboration with them was also only for a single product line, not a full-brand endorsement.

Moreover, Chow Tai Fook never had long-term full-brand endorsements.

It's not just Chow Tai Fook—other major brands do the same, to avoid brand damage from artists' moral scandals or legal issues.

Who knows what artists are really like behind closed doors?

But since Chow Tai Fook agreed to change endorsers, they had no reason to offend the Principal in Neidi.

If the Principal moved to smear Chow Tai Fook or their chosen image artist, it would hurt badly—no need to take that risk.

The Principal reaching out was essentially a warning.

So Da Baobei's Chow Tai Fook endorsement fell through; Liu Tianxian gained nothing, Shu Qi gained the benefit.

The competition between the two sides let Shu Qi snatch the endorsement by accident—quite ironic.

Of course, female stars in the industry were envious; Da Mimi regretted it—she should have seized Chow Tai Fook.

"There's still a chance—Zhao Xiaodao is fighting for Da Baobei's Dior and Dove; if handled well, if both become problem artists, we might actually snatch them." Ceng Jia saw an opportunity.

Both sides will inevitably launch mutual smears, and brands will label them as problem artists; Da Mimi can profit from this.

The brand might really choose neither and pick a third party instead.

"Won't this offend the Principal?" Da Mimi worried.

"Don't worry—the Principal is busy dealing with Huayi; why would he care about us? Besides, this is all about who's better—the choice belongs to the brand." Ceng Jia said.

Da Mimi fell silent, thinking.

"This is a rare opportunity, a once-in-a-lifetime chance—if you let it go, you'll wait years for the next one, and you still have your bet on you." Ceng Jia urged.

Hearing about the bet, Da Mimi immediately agreed: "Fine!"

If she lost the bet, she'd be badly hurt—she couldn't afford it; Liu Tianxian had such high clout and was so popular, yet she still hadn't figured things out—how could she accept that?

Not just Da Mimi—Tang Wei, Guan Xiaotong, Yang Zi—all wanted to land the Dove endorsement.

Dior was too high-end to dream of; Dove was still within reach.

Yang Zi has remained popular these past two years thanks to Zhan Changsha, Where Has Time Gone, Born to Be Perfect, and Sister Yang and other Variety shows.

The industry's estimate was right—while Fang Hong was busy undermining Da Baobei's endorsement, a flood of dirt on Zhao Xiaodao suddenly appeared online.

She was called "country bumpkin," "hick," "from Meikong"—even drinking water drew insults calling her "slut!"

Of course, signs had existed before, but now it exploded—everywhere online spread her dirt: rural origins, poor upbringing, endless accusations—all designed to be as vile as possible.

The goal was to prevent her from competing with Da Baobei.

Liu Tianxian also had many dirt pieces spread, but she was beyond insult—no matter how much they repeated the same old accusations, Zhao Xiaodao was just rising, still fresh in public eyes.

Huayi only needed to start it; then a pile of capital would handle the rest—capital pushed Huayi to crush Jade Rabbit, with Alibaba and Tencent's shadows behind it.

Both were, to varying degrees, shareholders of Huayi.

Fang Hong didn't spread any dirt himself; without concrete proof, it only slightly damaged commercial value—just made brands cautious, not enough to matter.

He called Zhang Hualì, vice president of Mango TV—the same person who spoke out after Dad Where Are We Going.

Now Dad Where Are We Going is on the brink; rumors say authorities will issue "Child Limit" after the New Year.

Once issued, it's a blanket ban—unlike the earlier "Limit Foreign," which allowed buffer time.

Policies can't be adjusted overnight; platforms need time to adapt.

But "Child Limit" is different: once issued, you're banned from producing variety shows centered on children—not on Satellite TV, but online streaming still allowed.

Online streaming is still a vacuum zone, not tightly regulated, so platforms won't suffer total losses.

The two exchanged views on the current entertainment industry climate, artist issues, and shared concerns about variety content.

Fang Hong said: "In today's severe and complex entertainment environment, the industry faces a transformation unseen in decades—we should cooperate amicably to meet unknown challenges."

Zhang Hualì said: "Given our long-standing friendly cooperation, we are willing to strengthen ties with Jade Rabbit and face together this unprecedented transformation in entertainment."

All of this was nonsense—in reality, both sides agreed to blacklist Huayi artists and artists associated with Huayi.

Mango TV was furious—its once-profitable variety show had been wrecked by Huayi's actions, now on the verge of being canceled—how could they not be angry?

When Fang Hong called, both sides instantly agreed to jointly blacklist Huayi artists.

Mango TV blacklisted Huayi artists across all its variety shows, online platforms, and social media.

Jade Rabbit blacklisted Huayi artists in new media information and film/theater distribution.

In short, both sides used their resources—online, offline, variety, film, media, TV—to launch a full-scale blackout against Huayi artists.

The struggle had escalated comprehensively.

(End of Chapter)