Chapter 717: Three Courts Trial

The copyright battle raged with extraordinary intensity, and Fang Hong was also pondering a strategy, as the current situation was highly unfavorable to him.

Even if he reformed the copyrights under his control, it would bring pain, and this pain needed Chang'e Technology to endure.

Reform was unavoidable—for survival.

Because Fang Hong knew that blatant infringement would never be permitted.

But he did have countermeasures—he controlled most of the domestic film and television production hubs, and this card had not yet been played.

Dozens of film and television companies, large and small, had all received his favors, and hundreds of animation studios had all accepted his investments.

For example, Huaqiang Fantawild Animation, the company that produced Xiong Chu Mo, had Yutu as its shareholder.

The three major platforms, AiYouTeng, all carried content controlled by Fang Hong, and this was his trump card.

Without content, everything was meaningless.

He just hadn't played it yet; once he did, it would be a blanket attack, triggering a surge in film and television copyright prices, giving birth to astronomical copyright fees and astronomical actor salaries.

The entire film and television content platform landscape would be decimated.

But prices are already soaring—many copyright agents and distributors have already sensed the major shift in copyright dynamics.

The big players have gotten angry and are threatening to report each other to the market regulators—this is fucking terrifying.

Fang Hong was unaffected by the copyright battle; what's coming will come, and if he couldn't hold out, he could always accept financing—so what?

Copyright is unavoidable.

At the end of August, the summer season was nearing its end, and box office revenues for all films were plummeting; even major films like Dao Mu Bi Ji and Mr. Six earned only a few million.

This summer season, only Dao Mu Bi Ji surpassed 1 billion yuan; all other films failed to reach one billion.

Even Lost in White earned only about 880 million; Mr. Six earned 900 million.

Still, there were many films splitting the box office—films earning 300–500 million or 200–300 million were numerous, unlike in the past when revenues were concentrated at the top.

Figures like Principal and Xing Ye, whose films routinely grossed 2–3 billion, were sucking up the box office from other mid-tier and bottom-tier films, causing widespread low earnings across the board.

This summer season's total box office reached about 13 billion yuan!

With this scale of revenue, nearly all cinemas made money; top-tier cinemas earned between 5 and 8 million each.

But these were the minority; mid-tier and bottom-tier cinemas made up the majority—mid-tier earned around 1–2 million; bottom-tier earned under 1 million.

This also depended on location—cinemas with low box office were not in bustling areas, so their rent expenses were relatively low.

Many cinemas saw their box office increase by over 10%, a result of absorbing Wanda's foot traffic.

Fewer people went to Wanda to watch movies, so more went to other cinemas, hence many cinemas saw increased revenue.

This was the inevitable outcome of the struggle—someone profits, someone loses; Wanda suffered heavily this time, with losses around 1 billion yuan.

Just one summer season—after all, the summer slot is the most important of the year, a market worth tens of billions—and Wanda didn't profit, it actually lost.

The National Day and New Year slots are still ahead—this will be tough.

Lao Wang Zong truly felt the pressure—the pressure in the cultural and entertainment sector—and deeply regretted not crushing Principal with a single finger back then.

If he had crushed that man back then, none of today's problems would exist.

Everyone else was making money, but he was losing; shareholders kept asking him, "What the hell are you doing?"

Of course, Yutu's cinemas made money this time!

But recently, Principal and major real estate service providers seemed to have gone quiet over the rent-increase incident.

Only Evergrande was stubbornly holding out; everyone else had backed down.

The storm that theater chains had been waiting for never came; many still didn't know Fang Hong had already resolved it—he hadn't said a word.

He'd wait a while before announcing it, so theater chains wouldn't think he'd solved it too easily.

On August 25, Liu Tianxian posted a Weibo with just one photo: she was smiling brightly, giving a peace sign, wearing jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, surrounded by all kinds of flowers.

It looked warm and happy, deeply enviable.

Under the Weibo post, countless wishes poured in: "Happy birthday, sister!" "Happy birthday, Xixi!"

At the same time, fans across the country, as usual, celebrated her birthday online—flowers, candles, and postcards flooded her Weibo.

Even short videos were made wishing Liu Tianxian a happy birthday, creating a lively scene.

It briefly trended on the hot search list.

Inside the Villa, it was decorated warmly and romantically, flowers spread everywhere, bathed in pink.

They gathered around a table, where a cake sat in the center; Xu Liyun held the baby, Liu Xiaoli stood beside her, and Heizi lay curled under the table.

Xu Liyun took the baby's chubby hand and guided him to clap: "Happy birthday, Mom!"

The baby was only a few months old, utterly confused.

Liu Tianxian kissed her son's cheek, then tapped her own smooth face and said: "Baby, kiss Mommy."

"Come on, give a kiss!" Xu Liyun leaned the child toward Liu Tianxian's face, and the baby's mouth pressed against it.

It wasn't really a kiss—just a press.

"Oh you little rascal, you've got saliva all over Mommy's face!" Liu Tianxian laughed happily, delighted.

Others smiled and clapped.

"This is your gift from me," Fang Hong said, pulling out a luxury gift box and revealing a necklace inside, glittering with gold.

"Wow! Thank you, honey, put it on me." Liu Tianxian beamed, brushed her hair aside, and arranged it forward.

Fang Hong fastened it around her neck from behind, then gave her cheek a loud "smack!"

Liu Xiaoli smiled, watching this warm scene, deeply moved.

"Make a wish and blow out the candles!" she said.

"I won't make a wish this year—too many wishes are greedy, can't be too greedy," Liu Tianxian said, then blew out the candles.

She now lacked nothing—a happy, fulfilling family; making wishes no longer held any meaning.

"Clap, clap, clap!" Her family applauded.

Liu Tianxian was in a good mood too. She scooped up some cream cake with her finger, smeared it on her son's cheek, and then smeared it on Fang Hong's cheek.

"Your mom's so mean."

"."

In September, Liu Tianxian officially made her comeback, dazzling with jewels as she attended Bulgari's gala dinner.

At the resplendent gala, many new hot young stars had appeared, such as Shuang Meizi, Zhang Tianai, Yang Zi, Guan Xiaotong, and others.

Having been away from the entertainment circle for a long time, she felt the new replacing the old — that's just how the entertainment circle worked; half a year without showing up and everything seemed to have changed.

Yet whenever Liu Tianxian appeared, she was still the center of attention, the fiercest star in the entertainment circle — after all, her husband was a force to be reckoned with.

No one deliberately provoked her now; she was no longer on the same level as them. They could just fight among themselves.

At the gala, Liu Tianxian accepted an interview with a reporter: "The other day it was your birthday, and the Principal didn't post a birthday wish. The outside world is all saying you two are having a marriage crisis — is it true?"

"Funny, he never posts on Weibo to begin with, never has. Rumors stop with the wise!" As Liu Tianxian said this, she deliberately showed off her wedding ring.

The one with that big pinkish-red gemstone.

The internet was always full of rumors about the two having some marriage crisis or divorce, and there were even articles analyzing it as if they knew what they were talking about.

Even Fang Hong not posting on Weibo was taken as proof the two were having a marriage crisis.

"You haven't been out at events lately. Some people say you've been pregnant and giving birth during this time — is it true?" the reporter asked.

"You guys really know how to imagine things. I still won't answer that." Liu Tianxian left it hanging.

"Then what have you been doing at home during this time?" the reporter asked.

"Gardening, tending to some plants, nothing special really. I'm actually a homebody." Liu Tianxian raised an eyebrow, looking a bit tsundere.

"Have you heard about the recent rumors about the Principal?" The reporter was referring to the Principal's business dealings with the other big shots.

There were news stories and reports — Wangyi users weren't fools.

"Haven't heard a thing. I never get involved in his affairs." Liu Tianxian said.

"So what work arrangements do you have coming up? Any plans?" the reporter asked.

"Work seriously, act well."

Liu Tianxian's reappearance after nearly a year didn't cause much of a stir online.

Actually, she usually stayed out of sight for a long time after finishing a drama — she came across as very zen. It was just that the outside world had more speculation about her now.

Rumors about her being pregnant, about her marriage falling apart, and so on, still kept cropping up endlessly.

She could never escape excessive attention, and now there was the added halo of being the Principal's Wife.

The copyright war in September was still raging, and it had now spread to the film and television circle, simply because there was a lot of domestic film and TV copyright.

It had become something fiercely fought over by the various video platforms and copyright distributors. Judging by the trend of the big giants going at it like this, whoever controlled the copyright controlled the say.

Just because they were fighting so fiercely, Alibaba and Lao Wang Zong were launching fierce attacks on Bilibili in the film and TV content space, including the secondary-dimension animation sector.

After all, Alibaba still had a good relationship with that SoftBank thing, and a lot of Japanese secondary-dimension content didn't accept secondary creation — even if you paid them, they wouldn't accept it.

It could only be played in full, no secondary creation allowed!

But Bilibili was pretty stubborn — whatever you did, they paid no attention and didn't take anything down. If you wanted to sue, they'd sue right back; if they lost, at worst they'd pay up.

This led secondary-creation agents to file criminal charges against Bilibili, which was serious — it could mean detention.

After being warned so many times and still negotiating with you, if you treat it like a breeze, refuse to mend your ways, and keep profiting from stolen intellectual property, then you could end up in jail.

This forced Bilibili to take down a large amount of secondary-creation content, causing quite a bit of trouble.

It also caused Bilibili to lose traffic. Of course Bilibili did hold a lot of secondary-dimension animation copyright, but it could only be played in full, no secondary creation.

Secondary creation was unauthorized — that was the logic.

Basically, they wanted to impose restrictions on Chang'e's platforms in this area, forcing them to take content down. The more losses they didn't take down, the more they'd have to compensate later.

They could end up facing even harsher punishment.

And E-Factory Video was restricting Chang'e's entire music section, forcing even complete music tracks to be taken down.

Of course, some people were also launching attacks against E-Factory Video.

The current copyright market was a complete mess — all kinds of chaotic battles — but the fiercest by far was the big giants' joint assault on Chang'e.

One could say this copyright war was so massive that it dragged in every video platform, every content production platform, and every film and TV company.

The copyright prices at the major film and TV companies were also rising with the tide — after all, what the giants were fighting over was copyright, and the production side also earned from copyright.

Huayi was one of the beneficiaries, able to sell its copyrights at higher prices.

Recently Huayi had also caught a bit of a break. Mr. Six's box office was decent, around 900 million, though it was a shame it didn't hit 1 billion — if it had reached 1 billion, they could have gotten a higher tier.

And Fang Hong had also launched a counterattack against iQiyi, Youku, and Tencent Video. Of the more than three hundred web dramas on the market, most had Chang'e Jade Rabbit involvement — either investment or copyright sales.

But these web dramas hadn't been restricted from iQiyi, Youku, and Tencent Video — when Chang'e Video launched them, those three could also buy the copyright.

Except for premium content, non-premium content wasn't subject to distribution restrictions — including many of the anime on the market, many of which Jade Rabbit had invested in, also without restrictions.

Now Fang Hong had ordered that content on Chang'e Video was not allowed on other platforms — a "pick one" move to cut off content for iQiyi, Youku, and Tencent Video.

This was the same tactic Jack Ma had used back then, except his use of it back then wasn't mature yet!

Now Fang Hong's situation was completely different from Jack Ma's.

"President Sun, Ghost Blows Out the Light: Jingjue City is no longer going on our platform."

"President Sun, Once Upon a Time has also sent us a message saying they won't go on our platform, and the contract we negotiated is void."

E-Factory Video President Sun Zhonghuai suddenly received a string of messages from those production companies wanting to stop cooperating with them, stop launching on E-Factory Video.

As well as messages refusing to cooperate — both anime and web dramas.

This left Sun Zhonghuai quite stunned, and he sensed the crisis. Without a large supply of new content, the platform would struggle to operate.

He could only report this to President Ma for a decision.

Youku had also received all kinds of termination notices — The Legend of Qin, Tremble All Over, A Bu!, and dozens of other web dramas.

All saying they would be taken down or would no longer air on Youku.

In addition, iQiyi is the same way. The production company behind "The Soul Snatcher," Zhonglian Culture, expressed their apologies, saying they had received Principal's funding and used his IP, and hoped no one would take offense.

Including "Yu Zui," Xinli Media also stated they would no longer cooperate with iQiyi.

For a time, the web dramas on the three major platforms seemed to be cut off all at once. In the short term it was fine, but over time they would find themselves with nothing left to air.

However, they also have their own productions—iQiyi in particular has many self-produced shows and can hold out for a while—but Youku and E-Factory Video are not in the same boat; these two have deep pockets and mostly buy content.

Fang Hong cut off dozens of their titles in one stroke, and filling that gap was extremely difficult—shooting takes time by nature.

From script to project approval, it isn't something that happens overnight.

iQiyi boss Gong Yu expressed strong dissatisfaction with this, cursing in his WeChat Moments:

"Some platforms, leveraging their dominant market position, demand that partners sign exclusivity agreements—once you work with them, you can no longer work with any other platform.

And this isn't aimed at a single work; it's all content from that company during the cooperation period that can no longer work with other platforms. This practice is terrible and seriously holds back the industry's development. Everyone can guess who holds that dominant market position—there is only one, and that is the Principal!"

This was a direct, named attack on Fang Hong, and it even got a like from E-Factory Video boss Sun Zhonghuai.

It also got a like from Youku boss Fan Luyuan—the founder Gu Yongqiang has already stepped back and no longer manages Youku.

Being dominated by Alibaba is exactly like this—people lose their jobs.

At the same time, Sun Zhonghuai also cursed: "Clip-and-repackage short videos infringe on film and television copyright, waste users' time without offering any substance—they should be banned outright."

This wasn't only aimed at this round of content cuts; it was aimed at Chang'e Technology as a whole.

Fan Luyuan wasn't about to be left behind either. Facing the press, he said: "Our Youku doesn't take part in arms races, but we firmly oppose content hijacking of the industry. Some platforms' malicious competition has reached an outrageous level."

The bosses of the three major platforms could no longer tolerate the Principal's behavior and successively issued statements denouncing Chang'e, Jade Rabbit, and the Principal.

Chang'e's official account posted an image—a picture of "Chang'e" acting tsundere, captioned: "I just love the way you can't stand me, but can't do a thing about me!"

Netizens, of course, were just there for the show, happily munching melon seeds—they love watching big shots tear into each other.

One netizen said: "Chang'e looks just like Liu Tianxian!"

"That's because the Principal drew her to look like his wife—she really does resemble her in that earlier interview."

"Hahaha!"

It can be said that in this copyright war, Alibaba, E-Factory Video, and Chang'e all revealed their strengths and their countermeasures; nobody fights without pain, and everyone has to face losses.

Meanwhile, the small fry were all trembling—this copyright war has killed at least a hundred unrelated platforms.

Because copyright regulation will inevitably sweep up the petty crooks.

The titans have been fighting until now, and to date, Shooter and Renren Yingshi have shut down one after another.

Those film-and-TV websites and resource sites, including cloud drives, were shut down in large numbers—the typical case being Cloud Drive, which suspended its personal services.

Xiami Music, Tian Tian Dongting, and others were acquired by Alibaba one after another.

Fang Hong had no choice but to take down a great deal of music, film and television, and fan-made animations—how could they possibly withstand it? One lawyer's letter and a whole swath of them would be dead.

Once a lawsuit is filed, the costs are astronomical; how many can afford to pay? The only option is to shut down and run.

The copyright war among the several sides was raging fiercely, throwing the entire film-and-TV and content markets into total chaos with countless casualties—until finally, the powers above could no longer stand by.

They summoned Chang'e, Jade Rabbit, E-Factory Video, Alibaba, Wanda, Wangyi, iQIYI-Youku-Tencent, and other related parties for talks.

This round of talks was a joint effort by multiple departments—mainly because the scope involved was too broad, covering not only film, television, and music, but also the wider entertainment and internet circles.

The General Administration, the Copyright Bureau, market regulators, and other departments.

This had the flavor of a three-court joint trial, but a three-court joint trial isn't aimed at a single party—there's company, so there's no panic.

With the old man himself stepping in, the heads hiding behind the curtain had no choice but to show themselves in person; in a setting like this, they wouldn't dare send a second-in-command or third-in-command to handle it—they had to go themselves.

(End of chapter)