Chapter 108

In September, as the list of the Seven Fairies was largely finalized.

The production team of “Happy Heaven, Happy Earth: Seven Fairies” began targeted promotion, vigorously launching an online vote for the Seven Fairies.

As well-known mythological figures, the Seven Fairies still carried some influence, and with the gimmick of a beauty pageant, they attracted many netizens to participate.

Unsurprisingly, those popular young actresses led significantly in votes.

Actresses like Xiao Yanzi, Lin Xinru, Zhou Young Master, Zhang Baizhi, and A Jiao all had large fanbases and public support; regardless of suitability or whether they could be secured, the vote must not be lost.

The production team’s internal choices also performed well in the voting.

Li Bingbing, though slightly less popular than the above group, still had considerable support.

Li Lin’s stunning performance in “Wrong Wedding, Right Husband” left many deeply impressed, viewing her as a goddess of ancient costume dramas, so her vote count was high.

What surprised Yan Li slightly was that Hu Siyan also received some votes—though not many, she ranked among the top of the undecided candidates.

It seemed her role as Wuyunzhu in “The Young Emperor” had earned her considerable admiration from viewers and netizens.

Others like Jiang Xin, Yang Rui, Yang Xue, and Dong Xuan currently had little fame, so their low vote counts were expected.

At the same time, Yan Li also noticed several individuals with relatively low fame but some netizen support.

Liu Tianxian, who played Wang Yuyan in “Demigods and Semi-Devils”; Yan Danshen, a 1996 class student from Beijing Film Academy; Hao Lei, who also starred in “The Young Emperor”; and Yin Zhao, who had just become famous through “The Sky of History.”

Surprisingly, Dong Jie, whom Yan Li expected to have high votes, performed disappointingly.

Perhaps because of “The Golden Powder Family,” people associated her more with the Republican and modern eras.

Yan Li had originally considered considering candidates who performed well in open auditions.

But after discovering that only Yan Danshen was even remotely suitable—or that others wouldn’t come if invited—he simply ignored them.

As for Yan Danshen, her appearance and aura were fine, but like Sui Junbo, she was too mature—she could only play the older sisters, not the younger ones.

Li Bingbing and Dong Xuan were fixed, Li Lin was already chosen, so they could only regretfully miss her and wait for another opportunity.

With the online voting and media promotion, “Happy Heaven, Happy Earth: Seven Fairies” attracted considerable external attention.

Not only did numerous print media reach out for interviews, but some TV programs also showed interest in the production team.

Some astute individuals turned their attention to Yan Li, such as “Southern Metropolitan Daily.”

This media outlet, known for its sharp instincts and sensationalism, after some research, keenly discovered that the overall producer of “Happy Heaven, Happy Earth: Seven Fairies” was a young man in his twenties.

They initially assumed he was a rich second-generation playing around, but digging deeper, they found this boss of Yian Pictures seemed to have started from nothing, was also an actor, and had graduated barely over a year ago.

The “Southern Metropolitan Daily,” increasingly excited, quickly dug up Yan Li’s background and produced a front-page article.

“A Beijing Film Academy Graduate, One Year Out, Earns Millions in the Film Industry—Is This Young Actor an Entertainment New Elite?”

The subtitle added Li Bingbing’s gossip—【Success in Business, Success in Love: Li Bingbing Suspected to Be Infatuated with “Huo Qubing”】

The “Southern Metropolitan Daily” gathered quite detailed information.

Including Yan Li’s hometown and background, they didn’t crudely label him as a 2000 class performance major at Beijing Film Academy, but specified he was from the vocational class.

His specific resume, though limited due to his low fame and unreleased works, mainly focused on “Conquest” and “Emperor Wu of Han.”

Especially “Conquest”—no one knew how the reporter found out, but they reconstructed the entire situation fairly accurately.

Yan Li acted in “Conquest,” met Gao Qunshu, bought the rights from him for five million, then pitched it to various TV stations, making a hefty profit.

The exact amount earned was not uncovered by the “Southern Metropolitan Daily,” but through market estimates, they judged Yan Li had made at least ten million.

They also interviewed the purchasing manager of Jinling TV and another unnamed TV station, obtaining their evaluation of Yan Li.

【He speaks with competence, is shrewd, possesses outstanding commercial negotiation skills—he is arguably one of the most difficult distributors they’ve ever encountered.】

The most absurd part was that they even discovered Yan Li traded stocks, and used this to explain where his first capital came from.

Honestly, after reading the article, Yan Li himself found it unbelievable.

The “Conquest” affair was known to many, involved many people, so some information being uncovered was understandable.

But the stock trading—he did it entirely at home, known only to a few close associates and some securities firm staff.

The former wouldn’t betray him; the latter protected client privacy.

So Yan Li strongly suspected the “Southern Metropolitan Daily” fabricated the stock trading part to create his rags-to-riches image, and just happened to stumble upon the truth by accident.

Later, through intelligence channels, Yan Li realized he was only half right.

The “Southern Metropolitan Daily” had indeed guessed, but not by accident.

During the launch ceremony of “Emperor Wu of Han,” Yan Li invited a group of reporters to praise him.

During conversation, because one reporter also traded stocks, they casually mentioned a few words—the reporter wrote it down.

The intent was essentially to highlight Yan Li’s distinction from ordinary actors; this was now a common tactic, a form of promotion.

It was normal for actors to have niche hobbies like racing, opera, calligraphy, or ice skating.

Even stranger obsessions—collecting animal carcasses, dead people’s photos, stealing things, wearing the same pair of socks for ten years—were all about standing out and grabbing attention.

Actors trading stocks wasn’t new, especially among Hong Kong stars, many of whom nearly jumped off buildings during the financial crisis.

That reporter, upon hearing Yan Li had profited from stocks, simply wanted to compliment his financial acumen and economic insight, so he added that line—no one paid attention then, and Yan Li himself didn’t notice.

But this article caused the “Southern Metropolitan Daily” to dig it up again.

Then, half-truthfully, they gave Yan Li the title of “Little Stock God,” further emphasizing his legendary rags-to-riches story.

Thus, in the article, Yan Li’s path to wealth was presented clearly.

He started with stocks, bet on the obscure “Conquest,” turned it from worthless to gold, made a fortune, became a millionaire, then won the beauty (Li Bingbing) and invested in producing “Happy Heaven, Happy Earth: Seven Fairies,” with a promising future.

The “Southern Metropolitan Daily” also published a photo of Yan Li—the exact still from “Conquest.”

Yan Li portrayed Wu Tian, slicked-back hair, a fitted black shirt with the collar open, his eyes disdainful as he looked at Zhou Guoquan, his rugged, handsome face exuding arrogance and swagger.

Paired with the article’s content, a sharp, capable young business star leapt into view.

…

“Tsk tsk tsk.”

Yan Li, holding the newspaper, thought about giving the reporter a red envelope as a token of appreciation.

He specifically checked the byline: the lead reporter was Pang Yidian, with a co-author named Wei Yang.

Perfect!

Yan Li memorized both names—he’d hire them for future promotional soft articles.

Afterwards, Yan Li instructed Deputy General Manager Yue and Wang Decai to spend money to amplify the article’s momentum online and offline.

Since it was exposed and not something shameful, there was no need to hide it.

Make a bigger splash—he’d enjoy the fame himself, but more importantly, it would boost “Happy Heaven, Happy Earth: Seven Fairies.”

As always: Zhang the Big Beard knew how to promote, and so did Yan Li.

Moreover, Zhang the Big Beard was old-looking, ignored by people, forced to promote through actors; Yan Li could promote himself directly.

A young millionaire who rose from nothing, an entertainment new elite—far more attractive than an old man with a beard.

In today’s society, with rapid economic growth and a gradually loosening conservative atmosphere, success stories were rampant; young people yearned to rise above others, to become famous overnight or strike it rich overnight, and everyone slowly began to look toward money.

At this moment, any one of these: starting from stocks, becoming a millionaire after one year of graduation, embroiled in gossip with a female star, a minor actor transforming into a producer—any single item was enough to attract countless eyes; together, Yan Li’s name rapidly appeared on major news pages.

Yan Li had imagined himself becoming famous through acting, or through gossip photos, but never imagined he’d become famous simply for being rich.

Amused and exasperated, he also felt immense pressure as media interview requests flooded in.

Online and offline, there were admirers and supporters, skeptics and critics, and numerous so-called “insiders” leaking all sorts of rumors—it was chaos.

Yan Li arranged for Yian Pictures to issue official clarifications while selecting two platforms for interviews.

His top choice was CCTV, but perhaps due to its news nature or uncertainty over authenticity, CCTV never issued an invitation.

So Yan Li accepted interviews from “Southern Metropolitan Daily” and Sina.com—one print media, one portal site.

Sina.com sent a full production team for a video interview, treating it with great seriousness.

“Southern Metropolitan Daily” sent two people: one fat, one thin—the very reporters who wrote the original article, Pang Yidian and Wei Yang.

During this interview, Yan Li officially responded to some claims in the article and online doubts.

“My first capital indeed came from stock trading—the initial funds were my first acting fee and some side income; I was just lucky and made some profit.”

“I don’t believe ‘Conquest’ was luck—I saw its potential from the start, was certain it would become popular, which is why I acquired the rights.”

“The actual earnings from ‘Conquest’ were even higher than reported—I won’t state the exact number, but being a millionaire is certainly justified.”

“Li Bingbing and I are just friends; that so-called gossip was a misunderstanding—we were having dinner, her agent Wang Jing was there too; they’ve already clarified this.”

“‘Happy Heaven, Happy Earth: Seven Fairies’ is our next flagship project at Yian Pictures—huge investment, top-tier costume, makeup, and special effects teams, and the Seven Fairies will be selected from the best candidates…”

Yan Li spent only half the interview time answering questions about himself; the rest was dedicated to “Happy Heaven, Happy Earth: Seven Fairies.”

He also casually mentioned the profitable “Snow Goddess Dragon” and “Conquest,” and his secured advertising slots—why not promote them?

After the interview, Yan Li followed protocol by giving the interview team a token of appreciation and arranged for Pang Yidian and Wei Yang to go to a bathhouse to relax that evening.

He had noticed earlier—they kept glancing at the reception desk and the Sina female reporter.

He had already noticed just now—those two sneaky eyes kept glancing toward the front desk and the new female reporter from Sina.

For such men, taking them to a bathhouse or nightclub, putting girls in their arms, worked far better than red envelopes.

Sure enough, upon hearing Yan Li’s arrangement, both men beamed—especially the leader, Pang Yidian, his fat face beaming with sweat.

“Director Yan, rest assured—we’ll write you a beautifully glowing article.”

“Thank you, gentlemen. I have another meeting—I’ll leave my assistant to handle any requests.”

Yan Li could pay for the token, but didn’t need to accompany them—they weren’t his level; Lin Jiachuan could handle them.

After seeing them off, Yan Li returned to his office for a sip of water—his phone buzzed immediately.

【Dong Xuan】: Still working today? The bathtub arrived—I tried it, two people should fit fine.

【Qin Lan】: Finished your trip? I miss you. By the way, I bought a new album—we can watch and study it together~

Yan Li typed replies on his phone. Since the “Southern Metropolitan Daily” exposed his situation—even after he indicated some parts were fabricated and tried to soothe it—

Yan Li typed a reply on his phone; ever since the Southern Metropolitan Daily exposed his situation, even after he stated it contained fictional elements to soothe the public.

But the effect was minimal; Dong Xuan and Qin Lan’s sense of crisis surged rapidly, terrified that Yan Li would be lured away by some outside fox spirit.

They spoiled him with ever-changing delights every day; Yan Li was both happy and troubled.

The happiness needed no explanation; the trouble was that these two women were growing increasingly strict in their surveillance.

If Yan Li hadn’t been able to hold his ground and immediately defused any suspicion with the “sleep method,” they’d have grown suspicious long ago.

Besides these two troubles, other girls he knew also became warmer and more proactive upon hearing the news.

Huang Shengyi, already selected as Star Girl, had grown slightly cold toward Yan Li—but after seeing the report, she instantly reverted to treating him as her beloved senior brother.

Had she not been tied up filming, she would have rushed back to Jingcheng and pulled out all stops to flatter Yan Li.

Even Li Bing, though experienced and not prone to groveling, had once considered whether to stir up gossip with Yan Li.

Gossip with a fellow minor actor would only hurt her—offering no benefit to her career.

But gossip with a promising young business prodigy? That was a match of talent and beauty, destined to be together—and might even bring her considerable advantages.

But Li Xue had stubbornly blocked it!

She feared Li Bing might turn the act into reality, and also feared that if Yan Li gossiped with her sister, she’d lose all hope.

Otherwise, if the scandal of sisters fighting over a man broke, it would be a super scandal neither her sister nor Yan Li could withstand.

What surprised Yan Li most was Fan Xiaopang—this woman had previously sworn they’d go their separate ways.

Now that she saw his wealth had reached tens of millions and he controlled many projects, she casually asked when he’d be joining the set of “Fu Xing Gao Zhao Zhu Bajie.”

She even claimed that when reporters asked about Yan Li, she’d lavished praise on him—and told him to treat her to dinner in return.

The casual, intimate tone made Yan Li almost forget they weren’t truly close friends.

No wonder you’ve become a nine-hundred-millionaire—your ability to let go and your thick skin are truly impressive.

But Fan Xiaopang’s friendly overtures stirred a new thought in Yan Li.

Could he also bring Fan Xiaopang into the cast of “Huan Tian Xi Di Qi Xian Nü”?

If Fan Xiaopang played the role, who else could possibly be the number one beauty among the Seven Immortal Maidens?

The more Yan Li thought about it, the more he felt there might be room to maneuver.

Fan Xiaopang wasn’t hard to recruit at this stage—she’d played the female lead in “Ping Zong Xia Ying,” but had taken many supporting roles, even far more supporting than leading ones.

If she’d landed the lead in “Mobile Phone,” it might’ve helped—but after losing to Li Bing, her gap from top-tier young actress status remained wide.

So now, Fan Xiaopang didn’t take every role offered, but she’d been hopping between projects to build connections.

If others could use those connections, then Yan Li was also a connection.

Though the role of the Fifth Immortal Maiden in “Huan Tian Xi Di Qi Xian Nü” was supporting, if Fan Xiaopang took it, Yan Li would owe her a favor—and later, when a suitable female lead role came up, he could consider her too. Mutual aid, after all.

The only difficulty was her relationship with Li Bing.

After “Mobile Phone,” their rift had widened; it was unclear whether she’d still be willing to act with him.

But then again, if Yan Li could get the more famous Li Bing to play a supporting role, Fan Xiaopang would likely accept a supporting role even more readily.

The benefits were obvious; whether he could persuade and reconcile the two was entirely up to Yan Li’s own skill…

(End of Chapter)