Chapter 326: Victory Banquet

At this moment, Wu Yuchen was attending a grand victory banquet—not for *Dance with Me*, but for *Pirates of the Caribbean 2*.

Just three days ago, the global box office of *Pirates of the Caribbean 2* officially surpassed the $1 billion mark, and the producers naturally threw a massive celebration.

Everyone had been waiting for this day; they all knew *Pirates of the Caribbean 2* would break $1 billion, but when it actually happened, every person involved was overjoyed.

After all, this was $1 billion—the third film in history to cross that threshold.

The first, *Titanic*, needed no explanation—it had set a staggering record of $1.8 billion back then.

The second to break $1 billion was *The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King*, still playing in theaters, now at $1.14 billion, nearly exhausted of potential and unlikely to rise further.

*Pirates of the Caribbean 2* was the third, and given its current box office trajectory, it had a strong chance of surpassing *The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King* to become the second-highest-grossing film of all time.

In fact, before 2010, crossing the $1 billion box office barrier was an extremely difficult challenge; several films had come very close.

For example, *Jurassic Park* in 1993 earned $978 million but ultimately fell short by a hair. In that era, achieving such a figure was already extraordinary—even more impressive than *The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King* or *Pirates of the Caribbean 2*. But failing to break it meant failing to break it. It wasn’t until its 2013 3D re-release that *Jurassic Park* finally crossed $1 billion.

Then came *Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace* in 1999, with $924 million, which only joined the $1 billion club after a re-release over a decade later.

Then there was *Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone* in 2001—the magical boy became a global sensation immediately, earning $975 million. Though the gap was small, it still failed to break the $1 billion barrier.

This year, with both *The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King* and *Pirates of the Caribbean 2* crossing $1 billion, Hollywood was buzzing, declaring the film market more prosperous than ever.

Of course, everyone noticed one thing: both films were franchises. This proved that successful franchises were growing ever more attractive to audiences, prompting major studios to shift their plans and focus more on franchise development.

From this perspective, Warner’s decision to secure Wu Yuchen with $20 million plus 25% of global box office shares was a head start—they might not have won if other studios had joined the bidding.

After all, only a handful of directors had proven they could deliver successful franchises, and now that Wu Yuchen had signed with Warner, he was effectively locked in for years to come; no other company could even consider inviting him.

Onstage, Wu Yuchen, Depp, Hugh Jackman, Keira Knightley, and other crew members smashed a giant, elongated ice sculpture shaped like the number 1,000,000,000, then flashed brilliant smiles as the entire hall erupted in cheers, and publicists snapped photos nonstop.

Besides the crew, many other Hollywood figures had come to the banquet, constantly approaching Wu Yuchen to offer congratulations: “Wu, congratulations! You’ve created a legendary franchise!”

“Wu, do you know? In my eyes, you’re greater than Cameron! In both creative ability and box office power, you’ve already surpassed Cameron!”

Wu Yuchen smiled and thanked them, but he treated these flatteries as mere formalities, reminding himself not to lose himself in such empty praise.

Cameron wasn’t just the man behind *Titanic*—he also created the *Terminator* series, both of which were groundbreaking works.

After a while, Spielberg raised his glass and chatted with Wu Yuchen:

“Wu, you really have no plans to develop *Pirates of the Caribbean 4*?”

Wu Yuchen shook his head: “Steven, the *Pirates* trilogy is a complete story. For me, *Pirates* is over. I won’t linger or dwell in a story that’s already finished.”

Spielberg sighed inwardly. The post-production of *Pirates of the Caribbean 3* was complete; he’d seen the final cut and knew it still maintained top-tier quality. He believed it would earn at least $800 million when released next year.

So, such a wildly profitable franchise—he truly didn’t want it to end so soon. DreamWorks was counting on *Pirates* right now.

Spielberg couldn’t accept defeat. He thought for a moment, then asked again: “Wu, even if you don’t want to direct again, what about producing? Do you have other ideas for stories set in the *Pirates* world? I’m certain all audiences would buy them! We can keep this IP alive!”

Wu Yuchen shook his head again: “Oh, Steve, let me rest. Let Captain Jack rest too!”

You know my focus is shifting entirely to the *Batman* trilogy. I won’t have any energy left to spare for *Pirates*.

Besides, after *Pirates of the Caribbean 3*’s release, audiences need a breather. Otherwise, they’ll grow fatigued with *Pirates*. You understand this better than I do.”

Spielberg understood perfectly—he’d produced multiple franchises himself and knew audience novelty faded with each sequel. The best move was to pause for a few years.

Wu Yuchen added: “Besides, Steve, Depp’s salary is a problem. Are you willing to give him over 20% of global box office shares, or a $100 million paycheck? Neither option is good right now.”

Spielberg winced at the mention of Depp’s salary. He’d tentatively probed Depp’s camp recently—there was no room for negotiation.

For the second and third films, Wu Yuchen had paid Depp entirely in cash. Spielberg had thought it too risky back then—but now he realized it was brilliant.

He’d agreed to forgo giving Depp a share because Wu Yuchen himself already took a portion of global box office revenue. If Depp got a cut too, the producers’ remaining profit would be razor-thin—they’d essentially be working for those two.

After thinking it over, Spielberg sighed: “Maybe you’re right. *Pirates* should rest for a few years.”

But the next moment he added: “But not too long. You’re not seriously planning to permanently shelve this franchise, are you?”

Wu Yuchen thought for a moment: “Maybe four or five years from now. That’ll be a better time.”

If *Pirates of the Caribbean 4* were made, it would certainly make money. But Wu Yuchen wanted to wait until after 2010, when global theaters would have been upgraded due to *Avatar*, with 3D and IMAX screens widely adopted and ticket prices rising. That’s why crossing $1 billion became much easier after 2010.

By then, even paying Depp $100 million wouldn’t hurt the producers as much—it was just inflation; Depp’s $100 million would have far less real value.

To make *Pirates of the Caribbean 4*, Depp—the core draw—was indispensable. After three films, he’d become the guaranteed reason audiences showed up. Even if Wu Yuchen directed, he couldn’t suppress Depp’s dominance anymore.

In the original timeline, *Pirates of the Caribbean 4* cost $410 million and grossed $1.046 billion—overall profitable, though with slim box office returns. Still, profits from merchandise and licensing made it worthwhile. There was no reason not to make it.

So Wu Yuchen planned to make *Pirates of the Caribbean 4* eventually—but he wouldn’t direct it himself, to avoid tarnishing his reputation. He’d only let Miracle Pictures invest. After all, the plot was far weaker than the first three films, relying entirely on Depp to carry it.

Wu Yuchen lightly clinked his glass against Spielberg’s, took a sip, then asked: “Steve, I heard DreamWorks launched a new project—Michael Bay?”

Spielberg smiled and nodded: “Yes, a sci-fi film called *The Island*. Michael Bay excels at big spectacle—it’ll have box office security. He also wants to break through, blending commerce and art better. I think it’s a solid project.”

Wu Yuchen heard *The Island* and knew his suspicions were correct—DreamWorks had walked right into the pit! Budgeted at $130 million, it grossed only $160 million globally—massive loss. In the original timeline, this directly led Spielberg to sell DreamWorks.

It wasn’t just this one film that crippled DreamWorks—it was like Wu Baige’s *Windtalkers* for MGM: the final straw.

But now things were different. DreamWorks had *Pirates of the Caribbean* as its crown jewel—it would suffer a bruise at most, nothing worse.

Wu Yuchen smiled: “Steve, you’re trying to recreate *The Matrix*?”

*The Matrix* had successfully blended sci-fi, ethics, and commercial appeal.

Spielberg chuckled: “Just an experiment.”

“Then I wish you luck,” Wu Yuchen said, choosing not to voice his true opinion.

In truth, no clone-themed film had ever been truly great. Schwarzenegger’s *The Sixth Day* was already among the best.

Moreover, the clone topic was only hot between 1995 and 2005. A few years later, its appeal would fade. By the time a decade passed, how many people would still talk about cloning?

Let DreamWorks lose more money—it would only highlight his own importance. Plus, he might later get involved in projects he actually cared about.

At that moment, he remembered the film’s female lead, Scarlett Johansson. The film’s failure ruined her commercial career, forcing her back into indie films until, out of desperation, she took Black Widow—and thus the Black Widow was born.

Wu Yuchen’s lips curled into a smile. Losing was perfect—it gave him the perfect chance to comfort the wounded young woman’s heart.

Wu Yuchen went to the restroom, washed his face, and turned to return when a voice called out behind him: “Hey, Wu!”

Wu Yuchen turned and smiled: “Keira, how was your night? Having fun?”

Keira’s cheeks were flushed—she’d clearly had a few drinks—but her eyes were clear and alert.

“Of course I’m having fun! I’m the third woman in history to be the lead in a $1 billion film!” Keira laughed loudly.

Wu Yuchen smiled at her demeanor. Honestly, Keira had become globally famous thanks to *Pirates*. She wasn’t just a pretty face—her screen time rivaled Hugh Jackman’s, second only to Johnny Depp.

She stepped closer, took his arm: “Wu, come with me. I need to talk to you.”

“Hmm?” Wu Yuchen was puzzled.

Was Keira going to ask him for a project or a lead role? Or had she heard of an opportunity and wanted him to recommend her? If it was something he could easily help with, he wouldn’t mind.

But he didn’t ask outright—he let her lead him to a room. They’d known each other for years; their relationship was familiar enough that he had no fear she’d betray him.

As he stepped inside and reached for the light, a soft body flung itself into his arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and her lips pressed against his.

The sudden assault caught him off guard—he never imagined Keira would do this. They’d worked together on three *Pirates* films over years; if anything was going to happen, it would’ve happened already. He’d never considered this possibility.

Wu Yuchen grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away: “Hey, Keira, what are you doing?”

Keira’s breathing was heavy, her chest rising and falling. She shouted: “F*** you!”

The next instant, she kissed him passionately, kicked off the floor, and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Wu Yuchen thought: Holy shit. I never chased you, and now you’re getting bold?

Tonight, he’d teach this girl a lesson—make her understand why he was called “Big Director.”

He lifted her and pinned her against the door. Soon, loud noises echoed from the room, the door shaking violently, while Keira sang out without restraint.

Anyone passing by would ignore it—such things were utterly normal at Hollywood parties and banquets. Everyone was here to party and have fun.