Chapter 719: Give Her Two Slaps

Fang Hong's voice rang sharp and clear through the entire conference room, leaving everyone present with a sense of awakening.

For a moment, everyone fell silent.

"Take your time, don't get worked up!" The leader gestured with a hand, signaling him to calm down.

"Leader, there are things I must say—I have no background, no power, so they all bully me; I fought back, my methods were harsh, I admit that, but they call me combative, accuse me of sabotage—is this the tragedy of a commoner's child?"

"Every time I achieve something, I must endure their slander; every time I achieve something, I must submit to their control; every time I achieve something, I'm dragged back to square one—I just want to ask, who will dare to act under such conditions? Where is fairness? Where is justice?"

Fang Hong continued to appear agitated; intense emotion could silence them all.

To deal with them, you must pour out your grievances with passion and drama—otherwise how could you shake them? How could you make the leader side with you?

"Wanda says he made contributions—he runs the country's largest cinema chain, isn't that impressive? But how did he get that chain? How much did he borrow from banks?"

"With that money, he bought cinema chains overseas, film studios, the World Cup, the Winter Olympics, real estate, all kinds of hotels—is he contributing to Western interests or to our country's film and cultural industry?"

"At least I never borrowed excessive funds to buy things abroad; even when I made films and built film bases, every penny came from my own hard-earned savings."

"Didn't I keep all that money within our film and animation production, enhancing our own production capabilities?"

"Must our children, our audiences, keep watching Japanese animation forever, with no homegrown animated products of our own? I've never believed I was wrong, yet in their faces, I seem to be the guilty one."

Fang Hong pointed directly at Jack Ma, Lao Wang Zong, Tony Ma, and others, openly accusing them.

These men felt insulted—pointing at them in such a setting was utterly disrespectful, treating them as if they meant nothing.

But with the leader present, they couldn't retaliate.

The lesser figures listened with great satisfaction; they had never dared to curse these big shots—Principal had done it for them.

Even if they were rivals of Principal, inwardly they still hoped he'd curse their bosses as monsters.

"I've bought many things overseas too—I wanted to use capital and acquisitions to connect upstream and downstream, so our films could go global," Lao Wang Zong defended.

"But did you succeed? Did our films go global? Instead of going out, you brought Hollywood in—'Warcraft,' 'The Great Wall,' 'King Kong'—one after another."

Fang Hong stood up, stepped forward to Lao Wang Zong's face, and jabbed his finger at his nose: "I think you're not using capital to open channels for domestic film and television—you're playing the role of a benevolent child."

"Before Wanda acquired AMC, AMC was on the brink of bankruptcy and restructuring; before acquiring Legendary Pictures, Legendary had accumulated losses of about $1.2 billion over three years!"

This statement made the three leaders pause, surprised, whispering among themselves whether this was really true.

Those in high positions rarely understood the details unless they paid special attention.

It was said Wanda paid $3.5 billion for Legendary Pictures and $2.6 billion for AMC—so much money spent acquiring American companies with zero value, a massive waste.

The leaders saw no value in it—no benefit to our domestic industry, merely sewing clothes for others.

"AMC may have had crises before, but now its operations are healthy and profitable; Legendary's value isn't in its past, but in its future IPs—you, Principal, also value IPs, surely you understand this." Lao Wang Zong defended again.

"I understand, I understand perfectly—I work with Chinese IPs; what do you work with? American IPs? If you used that money to boost our own production capabilities and made a 'Classic of Mountains and Seas' to shock the world, I'd truly respect you—I'd even call you 'Lao Wang Zong' with honor."

"But what are you doing? Raising IPs for others? Not only saving their companies, you hire a foreigner as the savior, pair him with Lao Mouzi, and court Miss Jing? Are we Chinese that pathetic?"

Fang Hong's final remark cut to the bone!

"What do you mean? Explain clearly," the leader said.

Since 'The Great Wall' hadn't been released yet, no one fully understood—the people present looked confused, unsure what that last remark meant.

"It's like this—Lao Wang Zong has a film project called 'The Great Wall,' you've all heard of it; by today's domestic standards, it's an unprecedented blockbuster."

"The plot is this: ancient monsters attack China, then two foreigners arrive as saviors—they not only save our country, but also seduce our female general!"

"I ask: is our nation really that pathetic? Do we need foreigners to save us? Your actions have destroyed our national confidence."

"When I made the 'Lucy' series, the foreigners were all villains, enemies of humanity—and overseas audiences still watched it."

Fang Hong's words were highly charged, but those who loved them loved them deeply—like the hawkish faction.

He couldn't tell which faction the leaders belonged to, but judging by their future willingness to confront the whole world, the big shots were clearly sharp-minded.

The three leaders' gazes toward Lao Wang Zong turned hostile; though they didn't handle approvals, hearing this still made them deeply uncomfortable.

Lao Wang Zong's face turned red—he couldn't bear being criticized over such a small matter.

'The Great Wall' had already been filmed, with only three months left until release—there was no time to change anything, which was why Fang Hong dared to speak now.

"I think this is actually a good experiment—a fusion of Chinese and American markets. If we want our culture accepted in America, we must use American methods; if American technology wants to enter our market, it must use our culture as a vessel—mutual integration, mutual exploration of the future path," Jack Ma tried to smooth things over.

It sounded good—using American technology to film Chinese culture.

"Don't talk to me in lofty, useless terms—what American technology? They have no damn technology! You just don't want to work hard, don't want to improve our production standards, don't have the patience to gamble on a film's success."

"All that pretty talk is just an excuse for laziness."

Fang Hong turned his spearhead again toward Jack Ma: "Paramount, after a string of consecutive losses, was already in crisis, even its management in turmoil—its fate should have been to be acquired, like Columbia."

"Our benevolent Ma, so kind and generous, immediately gave Paramount $1 billion to help them through the crisis."

"Not just that—he also invested $200 million in Spielberg's Amblin Partners—this happened just recently."

"I ask: our film market was in turmoil just recently—when you had money to give to Hollywood, why didn't you give any to our domestic film companies?"

At these words, everyone in the room turned their eyes toward Jack Ma.

Wanda's acquisitions of AMC and Legendary Pictures were big news, reported widely—but Jack Ma's actions were kept quiet.

Only those who paid close attention would know!

"I don't know what you're trying to imply. Investing in Hollywood's purpose is to tell Chinese stories—Hollywood taught the world how to watch films; we're simply using our own methods to help Chinese stories reach the world and help the West understand the East."

"In this process, I dare say that within five years, Alibaba will become a new force in Hollywood, while you, Jade Rabbit, remain stuck in a small pond," Jack Ma declared with grand ambition.

"Chinese stories? Then I ask you—why did your co-production with Paramount, 'The Flying Tigers,' collapse? Wasn't it because Hollywood wouldn't let you tell Chinese stories?" Fang Hong retorted.

Hearing this, Zhang Hongsen lowered his head and reported to the leader.

He knew this film had been reviewed by their department—it depicted the WWII American 'Flying Tigers' aiding China's resistance against Japan, starring Tom Cruise.

Originally a key cultural exchange project, it was rejected because the script failed to highlight China's contributions.

Only Americans could be heroes—we couldn't be? The tensions ran deep.

"We cooperate with Hollywood to promote Chinese culture worldwide—yet here, we're turned into villains," Jack Ma protested.

"The moat of the cultural industry can never be breached by money," Fang Hong declared firmly.

"Well said!"

Even the leaders couldn't help but clap for him, strongly agreeing—he had cut to the heart of the issue; no amount of money could ever breach another's cultural moat.

Culture is inherently defensive against external forces; money is merely a tool, and must be used in the right place.

Root yourself locally—defeat your rivals with even better, more beautiful films.

Jack Ma fell silent; to speak further would violate the leaders' wishes, and the leaders themselves believed investing in domestic film and television was the correct path.

Otherwise, why would they be pushing so hard to develop domestic industries?

"As for Tencent, I won't even mention it—they'd rather burn tens of billions on international record labels than lift up domestic music."

Fang Hong walked to the center, spread his hands, and said with full confidence: "Today, I'd like to ask all of you: I've worked tirelessly to develop the film and television industry, the animation sector, and build film production bases—and yet you call me a destroyer."

"Yet you claim to champion the development of our culture, yet pour money outward instead of inward—when have you ever thought of the film industry? When have you ever thought of making our own blockbusters to take on the world?"

Everyone in the room turned to look at Jack Ma, Tony Ma, and Lao Wang Zong, hoping to see shame on their faces.

Even the leaders stared at the three of them!

But all three remained expressionless, unreadable, calm, and silent.

In truth, their insides were shaken, filled with uncertainty—because these things, when left unsaid, felt insignificant; once spoken, they suddenly loomed large.

And worse, they'd been said right in front of the elders.

"Alibaba has spent at least 1.5 billion U. S. dollars; Wanda over 8 billion U. S. dollars—I'm speaking only of the film and television sector, not real estate or other areas, and I have no authority to comment on those; Tencent isn't far behind—surely at least 50 billion already!"

"Over 110 billion! What a shocking number! What a tragic number! How starved is the people's entertainment? Not even one domestic giant monster movie! Not one major sci-fi film!"

Fang Hong spoke like a performance expert, lamenting for his country and people—this was sprinkling salt into their wounds!

You always claim to do this for that—now let's look at facts and evidence, and see what these people are actually doing!

In truth, they just wanted shortcuts; they hadn't thought deeply, nor were they as vile as Fang Hong made them out to be—he merely exaggerated and inflated these matters.

If said outside, capitalists and outsiders would just listen, and netizens might get angry—but it'd have no real effect; yet in this formal meeting, these words carried real weight.

With so much money, you might not know what you'll create—but at least you'll create some water. You'll gain talent and infrastructure; even if you lose, it's better than losing it to Hollywood.

They've lost money on Hollywood too—mostly!

But they still used money to fund Hollywood films, preserving Hollywood's production system.

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy from Fang Hong's words; Sun Zhonghuai and Fan Luyuan seemed crushed, appearing uncertain.

It was only because the leaders remained silent that the tension became suffocating.

Jack Ma and Tony Ma were silenced by the data and facts, yet their expressions remained unchanged.

Lao Wang Zong, however, looked flustered—he was different from the two Mas; his money came from banks, while the two Mas had their own wealth, giving them more底气.

Bank money, exposed publicly, naturally caused unease.

Only Chen Zhixi remained calm—the Principal had spent nothing outwardly, so she spoke without guilt, unafraid of anyone; she was truly formidable.

Others couldn't say such things—no one thought these things could be used as weapons.

Investing in film and television, acquiring industries—isn't that normal?

Many didn't understand the higher-ups' intentions, so they assumed it was reasonable—even many businessmen didn't understand.

As always: you're given money to grow big so you can build your own, not someone else's.

"Enough. Today we won't discuss who's right or wrong—correct what's wrong, praise what's right. Xiao Fang, return to your seat."

Fang Hong's remarks weren't in the original agenda; this meeting was meant to resolve their malicious competition.

"Leader, I apologize—I got too emotional. In my life, I hate being wronged most. If my wife accuses me falsely, I slap her twice—I can't bear that kind of air."

He definitely engaged in malicious competition—there was no escaping it.

"I understand. Your wife hasn't filed for divorce—I actually admire her. She's got a good temper."

"Hahaha!" Laughter suddenly broke out.

The laughter started with two other leaders; only then did others follow—no one dared laugh first.

Of course, some laughter was bitter—Lao Wang Zong's was bitter.

Even so, the previously heavy atmosphere lightened somewhat; the suffocating tension eased, and everyone felt a little more relaxed.

The Principal had just vented fully, leaving them all unsettled.

"We understand your situations roughly: the Principal restricted content distribution licensing; Tencent restricted music distribution licensing—these are monopolistic acts. Both of you must correct this."

"Music licensing must be cross-authorized; if one grants permission, the other must too, and you must open access to other platforms."

Even if Tencent held exclusive rights to all music copyrights, a competitive environment must still be created—no single player can dominate.

"We'll change our strategy upon returning—cooperate openly with other platforms; exclusive contracts will no longer exist," Tony Ma said, cooperative.

The leader nodded, then turned to Fang Hong: "Decisions on which platform content is distributed to must be made by the film and television companies themselves—capital must not excessively interfere."

"Understood! I'll immediately rectify upon returning," Fang Hong dared not resist—he could only listen.

His trump card was now half-neutralized: he could no longer terminate cooperation or demand content takedowns under the pretext of copyright.

But he could raise prices—where a film once sold for one million, now it could sell for ten million.

No restrictions—but you must be able to afford it. In his past life, Tencent played exactly this way.

But Tony Ma's music licensing was also half-neutralized!

The three CEOs of iQiyi, Youku, and Tencent exchanged glances, their faces showing relief—they could now continue collaborating with web drama producers, unimpeded by the Principal.

But they hadn't yet realized the Principal had another move.

"As for derivative works and copyright, leave it to the courts. We will also assemble an expert team to study the ownership of such copyright issues."

The leader's words severely hurt Bilibili—since Bilibili hosted many derivative works.

But it was fair: derivative works still fell under the original copyright holders' domain; how much transformation constituted infringement would need study.

If no protection were granted, anyone could freely create derivative content of Chang'e and the Jade Rabbit.

Jack Ma and Lao Wang Zong's faces showed slight relief—this essentially meant Bilibili could now be targeted.

"But copyright must not be abused, nor used to disrupt the order of market competition through improper means—things like copyright trolling against those derivative creators are not supported," the leader said.

At these words, Jack Ma and Lao Wang Zong's faces grew solemn.

In other words, batch lawsuits against derivative creators would no longer be permitted; they could no longer launch mass copyright trolling against those creators—pulling the rug out from under them was useless now!

If this rule had existed back then, Fang Hong wouldn't have been able to intimidate those Panda Live people either. Such was Xiao Wang's fate!

(End of this chapter)