Chapter 106: There Are Too Many Beautiful Girls—Casting Feels Like the Emperor Choosing Concubines

The open casting for "Seven Fairies of Joy and Happiness" began soon.

In fact, this so-called open casting simply meant accepting resumes from the public, then screening out candidates with decent qualifications before moving on to interviews.

The production team split into two groups: one handled open casting, mostly for publicity; the other was responsible for the actual pre-production of "Seven Fairies of Joy and Happiness."

They contacted TV stations for collaboration, assembled the behind-the-scenes crew, refined the script, selected filming locations, designed sets, costumes, props, and dealt with a dozen other tasks.

Many production teams spend longer on pre-production than on actual filming.

As both general producer and executive producer, Yan Li had to oversee both groups.

In the morning, he met with the costume and makeup team to discuss designs; in the afternoon, he reviewed actor resumes.

"The screenwriter’s concept is excellent—the seven fairies correspond to the seven colors of the rainbow: red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue, and purple. This instantly highlights and distinguishes each character. You must also put effort into color design for the costumes and makeup."

"First and foremost, they must be beautiful—do whatever looks best."

"This is a mythological drama with comedic elements, so we don’t need to worry about ancient or modern styles. Just make it beautiful—that’s it."

"For makeup and costume design, especially for the seven fairies, we’ve allocated ample funding, so don’t make anything look cheap. Emphasize elegance and luxury, and capture that ethereal fairy essence..."

Yan Li spoke at length, laying out his requirements. The costume and makeup artists exchanged glances, and a man with a full beard raised a concern.

"Director Yan, if we base the palette on the seven rainbow colors, the saturation will be high, the look overly vibrant and fairy-tale-like—which conflicts somewhat with your request for elegance and refinement."

"Then what do you suggest?"

Yan Li glanced at Wang Xiu and asked.

Wang Xiu was an old acquaintance from "Heroes of Sui and Tang," where Yan Li had already admired his expertise in costume and makeup design.

For this pre-production of "Seven Fairies of Joy and Happiness," Yan Li had brought him on as costume director.

"The idea of pairing each fairy with a rainbow color is sound, but I don’t think we should drape all seven colors directly on the body—it’s too monotonous. Focus on key elements."

"Colors have weight and lightness; we can use contrasting tones to create more depth."

"We can also use neutral-toned garments paired with colored accessories to highlight each fairy’s status."

"Moreover, I believe each of the seven fairies has a distinct personality—makeup and costume should reflect their individual traits."

"For example, the eldest fairy is the older sister and associated with red—her design should be dignified and authoritative. The youngest fairy is the little sister; deep purple doesn’t suit her—light purple better conveys playfulness and liveliness..."

Yan Li nodded slightly. Wang Xiu was indeed the right choice—he understood costume design, dared to speak his mind, and took his work seriously.

Since that was the case, Yan Li said no more: "You’re the professional. Design however you see fit. I’ve stated my requirements—I’ll judge the final result."

"You’ll see."

Wang Xiu was full of confidence. In terms of technical skill, he had no doubts—if only he weren’t just a technician, he’d have led a team long ago.

Yan Li entrusted him with full authority over the makeup and costume design for "Seven Fairies of Joy and Happiness," knowing he wasn’t good at leading teams, and assigned him a deputy to assist.

Such trust and promotion made Wang Xiu want to offer himself in gratitude—until Yan Li warned him to get lost.

So he could only work hard, pouring all his energy into perfecting the makeup and costume design for "Seven Fairies of Joy and Happiness" to repay Yan Li’s recognition and support.

After the costume meeting, Yan Li rushed to a dinner appointment to treat Li Xue, Li Bingbing’s sister.

There was no choice—Li Bingbing was still filming, and a phone call couldn’t clarify the details. He needed to speak with Li Xue first.

Though Li Xue was only an assistant now, and Wang Jinhua was Li Bingbing’s official agent, Li Xue now handled most of Li Bingbing’s business affairs beyond resource coordination.

When Yan Li arrived, Li Xue had already ordered the dishes and was waiting, her gaze toward him tinged with resentment.

"I’ve invited you several times and you ignored me. If it weren’t for this matter, would you never have reached out again?"

"That’s not my fault—your sister told me not to contact you."

Yan Li looked innocent. Li Bingbing had repeatedly warned him not to pursue her sister.

Li Xue glared at him: "You listen to your sister?"

Li Bingbing still hoped Yan Li would become her agent, but Yan Li had ignored her entirely.

Yan Li smiled faintly and said nothing—some things were better left unspoken.

He wasn’t particularly interested in Li Xue, but they were still friends, and their relationship was fine. He couldn’t just tell her outright that he wasn’t attracted to her, so he used Li Bingbing’s excuse as an easy out.

Sensing his meaning, Li Xue pursed her lips, fell silent for a moment, then shifted to business.

"My sister can take this role, and the salary is negotiable. You’ve spent a lot helping us gather information, but could we reduce her screen time? Her schedule is extremely tight."

Yan Li fell silent—he’d anticipated this.

Li Bingbing agreed to join, but wouldn’t fight for the female lead—she’d take a minor supporting role instead.

Many stars handle favors this way: uninterested in a project but unwilling to refuse outright.

So they minimize their screen time, film intensively, and leave quickly.

The more principled ones help promote it; the purely transactional ones pretend they never appeared, never mentioning the film again.

"How much time can your sister give me?"

"One month."

Li Xue glanced at Yan Li’s furrowed brow, bit her lip, and said: "I’ll try my best to squeeze out forty days."

Yan Li stood up, poured water for Li Xue, and served her food: "Help me out—two months. Our investment is substantial. If we cut scenes, they’ll all be your sister’s solo shots—she’d lose out."

Li Xue hesitated, then shook her head: "It’s impossible. My sister has two films waiting—had she not fought hard, and had Miss Hua not favored you, we wouldn’t have gotten even this much."

"It’s not much—ten or fifteen days. There’s always a way."

Yan Li urged seriously: "Our actual investment exceeds twenty million yuan—this is a mid-to-high-tier production by industry standards."

"You’ve read the script outline—the role is standout. I’m not misleading your sister; this role will genuinely benefit her. Two months—we’ll adjust the script to minimize her screen time while keeping her performance memorable."

As he spoke, Yan Li pulled a small box from his pocket and slipped it into Li Xue’s hand.

"By the way, the other day while shopping, I saw a platinum bracelet I thought you’d like. Try it on."

Li Xue refused: "Bribing me won’t work."

"What’s a bribe? Even if your sister doesn’t take this role, that’s between me and her. Are we no longer friends? Giving a gift is nothing."

Saying this, Yan Li opened the box and placed the platinum bracelet, engraved with snowflake patterns, onto Li Xue’s wrist, nodding in satisfaction.

"I knew you’d look good in it."

Li Xue touched the bracelet, her eyes flickering, then finally said: "I’ll try—but I can’t guarantee success."

"I trust you."

Yan Li encouraged further, serving her more food: "How about watching a movie tonight? 'Terminator 3' is out now."

Li Xue couldn’t help but roll her eyes: "Your charm offensive is too crude—you switched moods in under half an hour."

"That’s not charm—it’s just friends watching a movie together. Just tell me: are you coming or not?"

"Fine."

Li Xue took a big bite of meat—she’d betrayed her sister for this perk; not taking it would be a waste.

Yan Li wiped his hands with a napkin, then peeled shrimp for Li Xue—he needed her cooperation, so he had to keep her happy.

After dinner, Li Xue didn’t go home—she followed Yan Li back to the company to gather materials, giving her something concrete to show Miss Hua and her sister.

Yan Li had no objection—he showed her around Yi’an Film & Television, then took her to his office to rest.

Li Xue held the hot water poured by his secretary Hu Ya, her expression complex: "No wonder Miss Hua signed you but you ignored her—you’ve already made it."

"Not quite."

Yan Li explained: "Back then, my company hadn’t even launched yet. I just preferred running my own show to working for someone else."

"I spearheaded 'Conquest,' which became a hit, and now this 'Seven Fairies of Joy and Happiness' has an investment over twenty million."

Li Xue looked at Yan Li: "Given time, maybe my sister and I will both come work for you."

"Ah, when you talk to your sister, emphasize this—future film and TV tycoon, early investment, guaranteed profit."

Li Xue rolled her eyes but nodded: "He’s got potential. Definitely worth investing in."

"Right—tell her exactly that."

Yan Li smiled: "When I get big, if you two feel uncomfortable at Huayi, come over. Your sister becomes company number one, you become head of talent management—we’ll build something great together."

Li Xue scoffed, as if seeing right through him: "How many times have you promised this before?"

Yan Li thought, then said seriously: "I’ve promised 'company number one' to others. But 'head of talent management'? You’re the first."

Li Xue glanced at him, lips pressed together, then looked away awkwardly, flipping through the resumes on the desk.

"There are quite a few pretty girls here?"

"Indeed. China produces exceptional talent—and beautiful girls are everywhere. These past two days, I’ve felt like an emperor selecting concubines—I’m practically blinded by choice."

Yan Li agreed wholeheartedly. Li Xue’s fleeting warmth vanished; she gritted her teeth:

"Pretty girls aren’t harmless. Watch out—you might get drowned in a ditch."

Yan Li smiled without replying, handing Li Xue a file from the corner.

"Take a look—these are all confirmed for the second round of auditions. One of them might even play your sister’s on-screen sibling. All have strong credentials."

Li Xue flipped through them—their appearances, poise, and overall qualities were clearly superior to the earlier resumes.

Li Lin, born 1980, Performance Department, Shanghai Theatre Academy Class of '97, trained as a martial dan, excels in ancient costume roles, notable work: "Wrong Wedding, Right Husband."

Hu Siyan, born 1980, appeared in "Zhang Damin’s Happy Life," "Iron Teeth and Copper Jaw Ji Xiaolan," "The Young Emperor."

Yao Qianyu, born 1979, Performance Department, Shanghai Theatre Academy Class of '96, formerly a singer, later starred in numerous films and TV dramas.

Sui Junbo, born 1979, Performance Department, Central Academy of Drama Class of '99, skilled in dance, excellent physique, appeared in many films and TV works.

Wang Ou, born 1982, graduated from Guangxi Arts School, won multiple modeling awards.

Zhao Ke, born 1983, Performance Department, Beijing Film Academy Class of '01, trained in artistic gymnastics and dance, excellent physique.

Yang Xue, born 1978, Performance Department, Beijing Film Academy Class of '99, has appeared in multiple films and TV dramas (PS: recommended by Wang Jinhua).

Li Xue, seeing the name identical to hers and the note beneath it, couldn't help but look up at Yan Li.

"Hua Jie has already slipped someone in."

"It's just a recommendation, nothing else."

Yan Li calmly took a sip of water: "Do you understand what it means to seize every opening? Learn well."

(End of Chapter)