Chapter 734: Collective Credit Collapse
Recently, after years of fierce competition among major film and television capital players in the entertainment industry, a calm surface emerged, ultimately ending with the Principal's overwhelming victory.
But the entertainment industry continued to produce big scandals: Liu Kaiwei was photographed spending four hours alone with a female co-star, Wang Ou, in his room late at night.
He urgently responded: "You're totally unreliable! Are you saying we're just script-reading? Don't you even let people read scripts in peace?!"
Yet this response fell apart, because the leaked video showed the lights had been turned off for a period of time.
This sparked intense public skepticism and mockery: "How do you read a script with the lights off?"、"Is the script glowing in the dark?"
Thus, the meme "reading scripts" was born.
Da Mimi naturally found herself at the center of public opinion, declaring: "No matter what, I believe in Kaiwei!"
Just as the "Primordial Girl" meme exploded across China and propelled many Olympic champions to fame, badminton champion Lin Dan was exposed for his wife's infidelity during her pregnancy.
Immediately after the scandal broke, Lin Dan swiftly posted a Weibo confession: "As a man, I won't make more excuses for myself, but my actions hurt my family—I apologize to my family, I'm sorry."
His wife promptly forgave him, even calling him a responsible man.
The third party then held a press conference, weeping bitterly and insisting she wasn't the other woman, adding she hadn't taken a single cent from Lin Dan.
She also claimed she was a victim too, and that this burden shouldn't fall solely on a woman's shoulders.
The family was harmonious, the third party wept uncontrollably, and the netizens who condemned her seemed unnecessary.
Yet this scandal shattered Lin Dan's image, slashing his commercial endorsement value by a huge margin—once athletes become idols, their scandals are exposed under the spotlight.
Henceforth, fewer idols were created; everyone just did their own thing.
Infidelity scandals in the entertainment industry remained endless, but the Principal and Liu Tianxian remained perfectly fine, with no major rumors circulating.
"Clearly, the Principal is the most self-disciplined in the entertainment industry."
"The most terrifying people are the self-disciplined ones!"
Although no major scandals emerged between them, small essays kept appearing—just without any real heat.
Besides these events, Fang Long won the Oscar Lifetime Achievement Award and instantly went viral across the entire internet; his image in a long robe, holding up the Trophy, was shared everywhere online.
It rapidly climbed to the top of trending lists, spreading like a virus on WeChat Moments, Douyin, and other platforms, while mainstream media uniformly used terms like "first Chinese person" and "pride of the Chinese" to boost national pride.
CCTV reported: "Fang Long, through over four decades of relentless effort, showed the world the craftsmanship of Chinese filmmakers!"
It triggered a phenomenon-level response.
In reality, this award ceremony differed greatly from the real Oscars; this council award was a private dinner event, just a group of filmmakers eating and drinking together.
There was no TV broadcast—it was purely commemorative and motivational.
This award had no "Lifetime Achievement Award"; it was an Honorary Award, but the "Oscar" brand attached to it led some to mistranslate it as "Lifetime Achievement Award."
There was no competition—it was simply designated to whomever they chose.
Anything attached to the Oscar brand instantly gained several levels of prestige.
But regardless, Fang Long winning this award still served as a valuable calling card and image booster.
This wave truly made Fang Long rich, but it was also well-earned.
At the beginning of the New Year Slot in late November, all films were cannon fodder—none worth mentioning; it wasn't until December that Your Name exploded in popularity.
This was a Japanese animation; its success came entirely from explosive word-of-mouth, drawing massive organic promotion.
Countless viewers spontaneously recommended, analyzed, and shared their feelings on social media, creating a rare "nationwide recommendation" phenomenon-level work.
Thus, it was clear: as long as the work was good, audiences didn't care which country it came from—they'd pay.
Simultaneously released was Bona Film Group's The Young Master's Sword, which collapsed after just three days in theaters.
Lin Gengxin couldn't carry the "Sword God" aura!
Other films starring popular stars like Super Express and year-old Minor also performed poorly at the box office.
In contrast, Hollywood's Hacksaw Ridge did well.
It wasn't until mid-December, with the release of The Great Wall, that the entire film market heated up—it was a Wanda Film.
Also released that same day was The Wasted Times, a Huayi Films production; the two companies seemed to have turned hostile.
Can't beat the Principal, can't even beat Huayi, some little lackey? Wanda was crushing Huayi—Huayi had already been crippled by Fang Hong and had zero ability to fight back.
But in the original timeline, Huayi had no fighting power back then either; it was already on a downward slope.
As for the feud between them, it was easy to understand: it stemmed from the early conflict of interests when Yutu first rose and clashed with Huayi.
When new and old forces meet, conflict is inevitable.
So even without Fang Hong or Yutu, they'd still be killing each other—there was no such thing as peaceful coexistence.
The market is only so big—if you get it, someone else doesn't.
The Earth is vast, and we just want to quietly make money and farm in peace—but others don't see it that way; they think you're challenging them, challenging their hegemony.
You don't want trouble, but trouble finds you anyway.
Where there are people, there is the jianghu—you can't possibly retire from it.
Of course, after The Great Wall's release, it was mocked by the entire society; platforms like Weibo, Zhihu, Bilibili, and Douyin flooded with satirical memes, parody videos, and negative topics.
For example: "Lao Mouzi fallen from his pedestal," "Jing Tian Universe," "Is the five-colored armor the Olympic opening ceremony?"
And memes like "The Taotie special effects look like a browser game," "Why is Matt Damon fighting monsters in China?" continued to ferment.
Meanwhile, the Western savior trope sparked cultural controversy, labeled as pseudo-Chinese style, a weird fantasy from Western eyes.
Just as Fang Hong had said, this film's mindset was fundamentally wrong: "The East needs saving by the West"—it lacked confidence.
This was precisely why many film critics and netizens criticized the movie.
Why was Wolf Warrior 2 so successful? Because it made the Chinese feel good, made them proud—that was the secret, nothing more to it.
Don't say the cinematography was great or the acting was superb—it didn't exist.
Even domestic and international mainstream media took turns mocking it; The People's Daily mocked: "Thin plot, hollow characters, Olympic opening ceremony-style human wave tactics."
Variety reported: "Chaotic monster disaster film, Chinese elements reduced to background decor, narrative logic collapsed, sacrificed storytelling fundamentals for co-production."
The Hollywood Reporter reported: "Special effects overshadow everything, zero emotional resonance."
The unluckiest in this film was still Jing Tian, accused of looking like AI, with stiff expressions and utterly terrible acting—beyond words to criticize.
The girl's psyche collapsed under the criticism; she called Liu Tianxian to vent, and Liu Tianxian could only comfort her well.
She said: "It's fine, fine, I went through the same thing—I was also roasted terribly, mocked for years, yet I still pulled through."
"I worked so hard, so hard to act," Jing Tian choked over the phone.
"Ah, I used to work just as hard in acting, pushing myself relentlessly—the harder I worked, the unluckier I became. Just let go, don't care what others say, just be yourself." Liu Tianxian offered her feel-good platitudes.
"I've already told my parents I won't make movies anymore—I'll do TV dramas instead. I'm just not cut out for this, and I don't want to improve—I just want peace and quiet." Jing Tian had lost all ambition.
But it was normal—she never had any ambition to begin with; it was just her family's wealth pushing her forward.
No matter how hard you try, it's useless—better not try at all.
"Doing TV dramas is fine too—you can still be famous. If not for Fang Hong, I'd want to do TV dramas too. Honestly, after all these years, I've come to see it: there's nothing wrong with TV dramas—they're both about doing what you love, both about acting." Liu Tianxian delivered her feel-good platitudes.
Fang Hong couldn't help glancing at her as she talked on the phone.
"The Principal is a really good person—you should cherish him," Jing Tian also held the Principal in high regard, believing he was worth entrusting to.
"Yes! I used to be obsessed with making movies, obsessed with big films and big directors—but I realized big films and big directors aren't necessarily better; they still need good scripts and good teams.
And once they've achieved fame and success, many have lost their original passion—now they only care about making money. Sometimes small teams are even more passionate.
So don't obsess too much—if you're still doing what you love and you're happy, that's enough."
Liu Tianxian spoke of her years of insights, as if she had seen through the world entirely.
In truth, when she got sentimental, she did enjoy playing the mentor—her urge to pour out her thoughts was strong.
"Yes! You're right—Lao Mouzi made this movie purely for money; if it weren't for money, he wouldn't have made it." Jing Tian understood what she meant.
Lao Mouzi had no sincere intention in making this movie.
"So you can't rely on others—you must rely on yourself. If you want to stay famous, be yourself, don't care what others say, keep a calm mind." Liu Tianxian comforted her.
"Thank you, Xianxian," Jing Tian felt much better after venting.
Their phone call lasted several hours, the phone growing so hot they finally ended it.
Fang Hong was puzzled: "When did you come to realize that making movies and TV dramas are really the same? You never thought that before."
"Just now—I realized it while talking." Liu Tianxian stretched her arms up high.
"So you're just fooling others—you can't even live by it yourself," Fang Hong said.
"Who says I can't live by it? I truly believe it now—acting in movies and TV dramas is the same, both are acting, no difference." Liu Tianxian said.
"Then if I told you to stop acting in movies and only do TV dramas—would you agree?" Fang Hong leaned closer.
"Of course I'd agree—if there's a suitable role, I'll take it. I don't pick and choose," Liu Tianxian shook her head, speaking with remarkable clarity.
"So your mindset has changed—you used to refuse TV dramas outright; now you don't care about status or achievements anymore," Fang Hong sighed.
"I still want achievements—I still dream of awards and recognition—but whether I get them isn't up to me. I've just learned to let go; if I don't, I'll just exhaust myself."
Liu Tianxian added: "I'm already thirty—whether I act in what, it's all about honing my craft, refining myself."
"You're right. It makes sense," Fang Hong sighed.
It seemed Liu Tianxian now lived with greater clarity and openness—she no longer drained herself internally.
As for what to act in—it's all acting. Movies and TV dramas are much the same; movies still have big productions with strong crews who can shoot TV dramas like movies.
TV dramas put less pressure on actors, since all you need to do is tell a good story.
Liu Tianxian rarely got criticized when acting in TV dramas—she was always praised; Jing Tian was the same—tell a good story, embody the character.
On December 23, The Ferryman was released. Upon release, this film could be said to have dragged the lower bound of "bad movie" to infinity.
The Great Wall at least had visuals to admire; this film, from plot to visuals to the performances of these big-name actors, was thoroughly awful in every way.
Over 200,000 people gave it low scores on Douban, forcing Douban to shut down its rating system.
Then netizens flocked to Bilibili, TikTok, and other platforms to vent furiously—video view counts all exceeded a million.
It trended on hot search lists; netizens spontaneously organized a "Bad Movie Line Recitation Contest," and countless viewers were utterly disappointed in Mojing Wang, Liang Chaowei, Jincheng Wu, and Chen Yixun.
They criticized Liang Chaowei as greasy and over-the-top, squinting and delivering clichéd feel-good platitudes, mocked as "like a late-night TV shopping host," causing this art actor to completely crash.
Truly: he rose because of Mojing Wang, and fell because of Mojing Wang!
Due to the huge controversy, a movement called "I Like" emerged.
It started when Mojing Wang, seeing the film's reputation collapse, posted on Weibo: "I Like!"
Then 78 celebrities—including Liang Chaowei, Guoji Zhang, Chen Kun, Da Baobei, Huang Jiaozhu—publicly declared: "I Like!"
These 78 were all named, identifiable actors.
Even directors like Chen Kexin and Liu Zhenwei posted long essays claiming it was artistic exploration.
This clashed completely with audience aesthetics, placing stars and netizens on opposite sides—stars' credibility suffered massive damage.
They were accused of: "Blatantly lying!"
The only one who said it was bad—Wang Chuanjun—became wildly popular, resonating with countless netizens and earning their admiration.
It was rare to have an actor stand with them—they were naturally thrilled!
This caused netizens to lose trust in stars, accusing them of deliberately praising each other's bad films—stars' credibility collapsed collectively; Mojing Wang had ruined the entire film industry.
Afterward, no star dared to take a side. Liu Tianxian had planned to post too, but Fang Hong stopped her: "Could you even post that?"
If you posted, you'd face public condemnation—not just loss of credibility, but damage to your film career. If you don't even know what audiences want to watch, what movies should you act in?
Another film with massive controversy was The Iron Road Tigers—it featured a "small house," accused of deceptive marketing, as the film had erased the "small house" from its cast list.
Many viewers said they were tricked into watching it.
The film's release triggered the irrelevance of the blacklist: official media stepped in to criticize: "Using discredited artists to portray heroes—where is your bottom line?"
"Ban discredited artists—no more gray-area loopholes!"
This sparked massive boycotts; the studio Yaolai frantically deleted posts and suppressed trending topics.
Public outrage erupted—the director even said: "This was filmed before the scandal; cutting it would break the plot."
Wangyi rebutted: "Monster Hunt had a lead whose scenes were all deleted and reshot — why can't Little House do the same? It's just an excuse!"
All you can say is Fang Long is awesome, nothing more to it — the man just won the Oscar Lifetime Achievement Award.
Swap in anyone else and it'd be pulled from release, but Fang Long's brand really just toughed it out.
Sometimes it really is a case of treating people differently!
This year's New Year Slot has been nonstop drama — trash films running rampant, endlessly dragging down the bottom of the entertainment circle, with no morality to speak of, leading to the collective bankruptcy of the entire industry's credibility!
That's how the film market works — audiences have been bottling up anger for a long time; once credibility goes bankrupt, they pile all their ticket money onto one rising film, one that isn't quite so terrible.
Wolf Warrior 2 hit it, Nezha 2 hit it too — all you can say is the film market brought this on itself, you can't blame anyone.
If you don't play it this way, will audiences boycott you?
On December 31st, the Macau Film Festival opened. The scene glittered with stars, countless reporters shouldering long lenses and short lenses, aiming them at Fang Hong and Liu Tianxian standing on the steps.
"Principal, what's your take on Little House recently appearing on the big screen?" a reporter asked, shoving a microphone forward.
Aren't you the Weightlifting Champion? Are you going to handle this or not?
(End of this chapter)
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