Chapter 137: Yan Li Has No Unwritten Rules, Only Being Taken Advantage Of

"Director Yu, take care on your way out."

Yan Li personally saw him off, watching Yu Shengli, the famous CCTV producer and producer of "The Great Song Inspector," get into his car and leave.

He is one of CCTV's main pillars in film and television production, previously leading "The Great Courtyard" and serving as producer for the 2002 series "The Grain Warehouse of the World."

These two dramas established Yu Shengli's status at CCTV and in the historical drama genre.

For this upcoming production of "The Great Song Inspector," Yu held considerable influence on set.

Yan Li had to go through a roundabout route to connect with him.

The driving force behind "The Detective Di Renjie" was CCTV's Film and Television Production Center, headed by a Mr. Gao, who was also the producer of "The Grain Warehouse of the World" and had a good relationship with Yu.

Yan Li uncovered this connection through intelligence channels, then approached Gao first, and through him, reached Yu.

If this route failed, Yan Li could still approach Jiang Shan.

She had acted in "The Great Courtyard 2"; her family had some ties with Guo Baochang, the director of "The Great Courtyard," who was a close friend of Yu's.

If Jiang Shan didn't work, then go through the male lead, He Bing.

He is from the Beijing People's Art Theatre, and Yan Li has a close personal relationship with Liang Guanhua, also from the same theatre, and can speak to him.

In addition, his alma mater Beijing Film Academy, Wang Jinghua, Liu Heng, whom he met through Hu Siyan, and Director Hu Mei of "Emperor Wu of Han," all offered Yan Li different avenues to reach Yu Shengli.

The longer he stayed in this industry, the more Yan Li understood why it was called the "culture and arts circle," the "film and television circle," or the "entertainment circle," and why there were distinctions like the "Beijing circle," the "Hong Kong circle," or the "Northwest circle."

Small circles nest inside larger ones, and larger ones encircle the smaller ones—you're in me, and I'm in you.

Two people might not know each other, but their associates always do; no matter how you twist and turn, it's all one circle.

Yan Li now wasn't even sure if he counted as part of the so-called Beijing circle.

His identity made it hard to enter many circles, and he didn't particularly want to; he preferred building his own small circle, but lacked sufficient capital and clout.

Yet if you said he was part of it, he truly had no ties to the major factions within the Beijing circle.

Rumor had it the Beijing circle roughly divided into three factions—or rather, three lines.

One line centered on theater troupes like the Beijing People's Art Theatre, cultural work troupes, and children of music and arts ensembles.

Mostly actors and singers, leaning toward the cultural arts circle, with limited power but loud voices; representative figures included Pu Cunxin, Song Dandan, Cai Guoqing, Hu Jun, and Cui Jian.

Even the queen of pop, Wang Fei, whose mother was a singer in a coal mine cultural troupe, would have had a chance to rise in Beijing had she not gone to Xiangjiang.

Another line consisted of directors, actors, and staff children from film studios like Beijing Film Studio and the August 1st Film Studio.

Their shadows lay behind mainland Chinese cinema; representative figures included Director Chen, Tian Zhuangzhuang, Chen Peisi, Ge Daye, and newcomers like Guan Hu and Teng Huatao.

The third line was the children of high-ranking officials—this group was the largest in number and possessed the greatest power and influence.

People like Wang Shuo, Zheng Xiaolong, Ye Daying, the two Wangs of Huayi, Hai Yan, Zhao Baogang, Feng Xiaogang, and Jiang Wen all belonged here; the term "Beijing circle" really referred to this group—they were its core.

But these people weren't tightly bound together; most operated independently, with occasional connections, collaborations, and friction.

Beyond these, there were smaller circles and factions.

For example, regional circles like Northeast China, Sichuan-Chongqing, and Northwest China; academy-based circles like Beijing Film Academy, Central Academy of Drama, and China Radio and Television University; or cliques centered around specific figures like Zhang Guoli and Zhang Jizhong, with rumors saying Wang Fei had even formed a "June 1st Class."

Yan Li did the math and realized he truly didn't rank high in the Beijing circle.

His status made it hard to join many circles, and he didn't particularly want to; he lacked the capital and confidence to build his own small circle.

He still had to strive harder!

…

Yan Li settled the bill, called Qin Lan, and prepared to leave the restaurant; his agent, Sister Lyu, made an excuse to leave first.

After she left, Yan Li, having had a drink, wanted to call a car, but Qin Lan suggested: "It's not cold today—let's walk and stroll a bit; we haven't taken a walk together in a long time."

"Fine."

Yan Li had no objection, but he still put on a mask; Qin Lan wrapped a scarf around her head.

"Huanzhu Gege 3" made Qin Lan famous; she'd been recognized as Zhihua more than once or twice.

Yan Li was no longer unknown—he'd been on gossip headlines, and key dramas he'd appeared in had aired nationally.

"Conquest" was quite popular; "The Heroic Legends of Sui and Tang" was also doing well in broadcast.

Yan Li's role as Yuwen Chengdu, though a supporting character, left a strong impression on viewers due to the plot's brutality.

Once, on a flight, Yan Li encountered a little boy who, upon seeing him, burst into tears—half-scared, half-angry.

Later, after chatting with the boy's father, Yan Li learned the child had watched "The Heroic Legends of Sui and Tang," adored Li Rongrong, thought she was beautiful, and even said he'd marry her when he grew up—so naturally, he had psychological trauma toward Yuwen Chengdu.

Yan Li felt embarrassed and speechless; today's children were too mature.

When he was young, seeing that scene, he probably thought Yuwen Chengdu was just lining up with his men to beat up Li Rongrong.

But regardless, after "The Heroic Legends of Sui and Tang" became a hit, many viewers remembered Yan Li's face; the chance of being recognized on the street had increased somewhat.

Qin Lan wrapped her scarf tightly, pulled down the hood of her down jacket, concealed herself completely, then linked arms with Yan Li, walking and giggling foolishly.

"You're Yuwen Chengdu and I'm Zhihua—if we're recognized, won't we get beaten up?"

Yan Li glared at her: "If anyone gets beaten, it'll be you—I'll run fast."

This little vixen had cried at home after being hated for playing Zhihua, but once she saw him also "getting hated," she immediately bounced back.

She even developed a strange sense of "evil couple" pride, feeling they were "evil" together.

"Try running away."

Qin Lan tightened her grip on Yan Li, then added: "But I've seen online—though many criticize, it's mostly aimed at the characters and the screenwriters; there are actually quite a few compliments about you."

"What do they say?"

Yan Li regarded the role of Yuwen Chengdu as a black mark and avoided paying attention to "The Heroic Legends of Sui and Tang" altogether.

So he never searched for reviews or news; if he stumbled upon them by accident, he'd just click closed—he truly didn't know anyone had praised him.

"They say you're handsome, tall, imposing, and your appearance perfectly fits General Tianbao—you're the most handsome Yuwen Chengdu in history."

"Others defend you, saying if the plot weren't so terrible and the characters so vilified, your charm would rival that of villains like Yang Guang and Yang Lin."

In "The Heroic Legends of Sui and Tang," only the King of the Mountain was somewhat morally ambiguous and likable.

All other characters are cardboard villains, including Yang Guang, but Xie Junhao's design made him vivid and layered, elevating the role.

"Someone finally spoke up for justice."

Yan Li felt a pang of regret; his annoyance and resistance toward this character stemmed partly from this.

If Yuwen Chengdu's characterization had been slightly better, he could have portrayed a Tianbao General widely recognized and even praised.

Instead, he ended up playing a "clownish Yuwen Chengdu," and both he and the character were mocked and attacked.

Qin Lan knew this was a psychological wound for Yan Li, so she gave him an idea.

"Why don't you just shoot your own version of the Sui-Tang story later? Play Yuwen Chengdu again—doesn't have to bury this version, just prove you can do him right."

Yan Li raised an eyebrow: "A Sui-Tang drama needs tens of millions in investment. Just to settle a personal grudge? Am I that rich?"

"You don't have it now, but you will someday."

Qin Lan's confidence was even greater than Yan Li's; he laughed heartily, spotted a roadside vendor selling tanghulu, and bought her a skewer as a reward.

Qin Lan pulled down her scarf, bit into one herself, then held it out to Yan Li: "You eat too."

Yan Li didn't like the thing, but Qin Lan shoved the tanghulu at his mouth until he was forced to take a bite.

"Tasty?"

"Fine."

Qin Lan wrapped her arm around Yan Li, eating one bite herself and feeding him the next, then shifted to another topic.

"Lü Jie told me Aunt Qiongyao's company wants to sign me?"

Yan Li wasn't surprised; Qin Lan had become famous through *Return of the Pearl Princess 3*—it would be strange if Aunt Qiongyao hadn't noticed.

"Will your company let you go?"

"They didn't say yes or no. Lü Jie said the upper management's stance is ambiguous, given the relationship between our company and Aunt Qiongyao."

The rise of Hunan TV couldn't be discussed without mentioning Aunt Qiongyao's dramas; the two had collaborated extensively and maintained close ties.

Aunt Qiongyao's artists previously broke into the mainland market with substantial help from Hunan TV, which even took over partial management rights.

Likewise, if Aunt Qiongyao wanted one of Hunan TV's artists, the latter wouldn't block the move.

"Do you want to go?"

Yan Li knew Qin Lan wouldn't bring this up without reason; she nodded, then shook her head.

"I haven't decided yet. Lü Jie says Aunt Qiongyao's resources are far better than what we have now, but their rules are strict—if I sign with them, I won't be able to stay in Jingcheng much anymore."

Before, Qin Lan wasn't famous enough and her company had few resources, so they tolerated her pushing for roles and long stays in Jingcheng.

Now that she's famous, film offers are pouring in, and Aunt Qiongyao's company wants to sign her.

If she agrees, her career will surely rise—but her freedom will be restricted, and she'll see less of Yan Li, risking their relationship.

"You decide. I support you."

Yan Li approached this decision the same way he had when wrestling with whether to stay at Beidian over Dong Xuan.

He could offer advice, but couldn't make the choice for her—otherwise he'd be at her mercy.

If Qin Lan chose to pursue her career, she wouldn't be watching him constantly, making his life easier; if she chose to slack off, he could afford to keep her at home and feel at ease.

Every option has pros and cons. She's torn—he wouldn't join her in being torn. Accept reality, adapt as needed.

"…."

Qin Lan actually wanted to go out and strive.

Mainly because Yan Li's career kept rising, her sense of crisis grew—she needed to fight harder, become even more famous, and gain more confidence in their relationship.

She expected him to be unhappy or hesitant, and had prepared many arguments to persuade him—but he looked fully supportive.

Qin Lan didn't know whether to be moved by his support or suspect he wanted to get her out of the way so he could do something sneaky.

He'd just finished filming *The Seven Fairies*!

She'd seen the stills and materials—those seven fairies were all stunning, and some were already trying to stir up gossip with him.

If Qin Lan ignored it, she'd be a fool. If not for the system's reminders and Yan Li's repeated efforts to stop her, she'd have stormed the set long ago.

Thinking of this, Qin Lan dropped the topic of switching companies and lost all interest in walking. She pulled Yan Li quickly to the roadside.

"Where are we going?"

Yan Li was confused. Though he sometimes used the system to guess what women were thinking, there was always delay and uncertainty.

Most importantly, these women changed their minds too fast—once a day, even once an hour—the system often got "flashed."

Even the system struggled. Yan Li, though he prided himself on being adroit, often found himself utterly lost.

Qin Lan said nothing, hailed a taxi, and dragged Yan Li inside.

"Come on. Let's go home."

…

Over an hour later, Yan Li wiped Qin Lan's tears and couldn't help teasing.

"With skills like yours, you still dare to threaten me?"

Qin Lan's eyes were red-rimmed, glistening with tears—heartbreakingly lovely, yet brimming with shame and anger.

Just now, she'd tried to judge him, to make him feel the weight of her power and curb his scheming.

Instead, she'd been thoroughly overpowered by him, crying like a rain-drenched pear blossom. Had she not clung to her dignity and gritted her teeth, she'd have begged for mercy.

Thinking of this, Qin Lan grew even more wary.

When she was around, he barely got enough to eat, constantly forcing her to release his energy through other means or exercise—if she wasn't there, could that hungry wolf really resist cheating?

Qin Lan bit Yan Li hard, leaving a clear tooth mark: "I'm not signing with Aunt Qiongyao's company."

Yan Li now roughly understood her logic. He bent down and kissed her, then added a disclaimer.

"Don't regret it later and blame me."

Qin Lan rolled her eyes at him, then said, half-advising, half-testing:

"How about I sign with your company? I feel bad taking your resources for free—I'll work for you to earn it, and you promote me; that's only fair."

"You're not cut out for it."

Yan Li shook his head: "When I sign artists, I need people who are relentless—men and women who push themselves to the limit. You can't do that. Signing you would poison the company's culture and hurt morale. Besides, I can't bear to see you push yourself so hard."

This was a new excuse Yan Li had come up with to handle Qin Lan and Dong Xuan—two women with little ambition—striking right at their weak point.

Seeing Qin Lan still reluctant, Yan Li hugged her and soothed her: "Things are fine as they are. Your company doesn't monitor its artists tightly—just stay there. I'll find ways to get you resources."

"But I still feel weird taking your resources for free."

Qin Lan didn't mind relying on Yan Li, but she wanted to contribute something of her own.

No matter how small, there should be give and take; a one-sided flow of sacrifice isn't a healthy way for a man and woman to relate.

"How is it taking for free?"

Yan Li countered Qin Lan's claim: "You haven't made me money, but you've slept with me—that's labor, and it's perfectly reasonable."

Qin Lan couldn't help pinching him—how could he turn their love into something so crude?

"You say that so smoothly—have you ever taken advantage of someone else?"

"No."

Yan Li answered firmly: Dong Xuan wasn't one, Huang Shengyi didn't count, and Wang Ou was just a student.

If you really wanted to talk about quid pro quo, it'd have to be Jiang Shan—but the one who got taken advantage of was him…

(End of Chapter)