Chapter 139: Made It Big: 2005 Top 50 TV Ratings

Yan Li's actions were even faster than Jiang Xuerou had expected; within less than four days, he finalized the contract.

The broadcasting rights for "Water Moon Cave Heaven" were acquired in first-run by Sichuan Satellite TV and Guizhou Satellite TV at a price of 600,000 yuan per episode, totaling 18 million yuan.

Of course, there was an additional clause: "Water Moon Cave Heaven" had to meet a minimum viewership standard.

In other words, it was a small bet.

If the ratings meet the target, they get the full 18 million; if not, the price per episode drops below the original 550,000 yuan, to roughly 15 million total.

A difference of 3 million yuan—one way or the other—the TV stations save money when ratings are low and profit when they're high, so it's perfectly reasonable.

Zhou Yi was hesitant, leaning toward securing a guaranteed payout, but Yan Li convinced them.

The bet contract Yan Li signed with the TV stations had low requirements, and involved many clauses regarding reruns and other terms, making success quite likely.

Zhou Yi was no rookie company; they'd had multiple hit dramas and still had confidence in their own project, so they ultimately agreed to take the gamble.

This also had to do with current industry trends.

TV drama prices kept rising, quality varied wildly, competition among stations was fierce, and buying a drama that lost money happened all too often.

Not to mention the human factors beyond the market.

Last year, a CCTV official was sentenced to ten years in prison for bribery.

Early this year, the former producer of "Emperor Yongzheng" and a key figure in CCTV's acquisition department followed suit, reportedly having repeatedly accepted bribes from production teams.

Such scandals, combined with the market environment, further pushed TV stations to become more cautious and "pragmatic" in acquiring dramas.

Many stations were deliberately tying acquisition prices to viewership ratings.

Especially CCTV, which was deeply embroiled in the controversy, was said to have clearly begun reforms and planned to launch 【Point-Based Acquisition】.

In plain terms, they'd air the drama first, then pay based on performance.

For example: if viewership is 1% or lower, pay 300,000 yuan per episode; if 3%, pay 400,000 yuan per episode; if x% or higher (capped), pay 500,000 yuan per episode.

This greatly protects the TV stations' interests while also improving the quality of prime-time programming.

But this would create serious problems for producers.

No one can guarantee their drama will be a hit; good dramas sometimes flop, bad ones sometimes surge in ratings, and many shows only become popular through reruns—this kind of system is far too risky.

But now it's a buyer's market; TV stations, especially CCTV, held overwhelming power—you didn't sell, someone else would.

Once CCTV led the way, other stations would likely follow suit, jointly suppressing producers' interests.

When Yan Li previously distributed "Water Moon Cave Heaven," he had talked with someone from Sichuan Satellite TV.

They half-jokingly said that next time they signed a similar bet contract, the terms might be much harsher.

Yan Li remained calm, because he didn't believe TV stations could stay unified.

Competition among TV stations was actually fiercer than competition among producers.

Even if CCTV led the charge, some stations might follow, but others would stab CCTV in the back to snatch up quality projects.

If CCTV implements 【Point-Based Acquisition】, but other stations stick to the old model, producers won't hesitate to choose which one to work with.

Everything has two sides!

Previously, CCTV's platform was the most powerful; good dramas were picked by them first, then local satellite channels got what was left.

Now, with 【Point-Based Acquisition】 introduced, production teams will vote with their feet—perhaps local satellite channels will divide up the best dramas, leaving only leftovers for CCTV.

With acquisition losses plus internal corruption, coupled with a sharp decline in quality projects, the overall revenue of TV stations is suffering—which is worse?

Yan Li had been anxious at first, but after gathering and analyzing intelligence through his system, he grew much calmer.

Although the situation won't deteriorate to such extremes, it's likely that requiring viewership ratings—and corresponding bets—in drama acquisitions will become the norm in the future.

Perhaps producers will eventually be forced to "buy viewership ratings" just to satisfy TV stations and meet bet conditions.

Many old friends who met Yan Li said he had changed—and changed quickly.

Every time Yan Li smiled on the surface, he couldn't help sighing inwardly—he was soaked daily in society's dye vat, dealing every day with seasoned predators who devoured others without spitting out bones.

If he didn't change, even with his system's help, he'd still be manipulated and devoured.

So he had to change—become slicker, darker, crueler—and with his system's aid, he could protect his own interests and even steal meat from those seasoned predators' hands.

…

Although there were some additional conditions, the contract for "Water Moon Cave Heaven" at 600,000 yuan per episode was real.

Yan Li had shown his ability to seize opportunities, and naturally, collaborators came knocking.

Not only were there those seeking cooperation, but also those wanting to recruit him into their ranks.

For example, Liu Yanming from Hai Run wanted him to bring Yi An and join Hai Run, forming a separate company to handle Hai Run's distribution business.

Not just Hai Run—Huayi also sent word through intermediaries, saying they were open to discussions.

This was a classic move in the film and television industry—or in business generally.

Both Huayi and Hai Run had done this before: when they wanted to expand into artist management, they directly poached Wang Jinghua and Chang Jihong, taking the people, teams, and resources all at once.

One side provided platforms and capital, the other provided expertise and connections—mutually beneficial, growing stronger together.

They treated Yan Li the same way: he excelled at distribution and held strong TV station connections; both Hai Run and Huayi needed such talent, and Yan Li, backed by a major company, had solid guarantees and great potential for growth.

Of course, that was what they thought—Yan Li didn't believe his own growth potential would be lower than joining Hai Run or Huayi.

He enjoyed being his own boss, full of energy, and had no desire to work for someone else.

Even if he did work for someone, Yan Li wouldn't choose private firms like Huayi or Hai Run—he'd rather join CCTV or China Film Group, the giants.

Perhaps years from now, he'd even enter the Ministry…

Regarding the recruitment offers from Hai Run and Huayi, Yan Li politely declined, but he was far more enthusiastic about cooperation with other companies.

Hengdian Film and Television Base

Under Cai Yinong's guidance, Yan Li arrived at a white three-story building.

"This is our Tang Ren outpost in Hengdian—it can store props, makeup supplies, and editing equipment. Before shooting begins, we gather some actors here for martial arts training—train during the day, sleep at night."

Yan Li examined the place Cai Yinong called the "White Building" with keen interest.

He mused that if Yian Film & Television filmed more dramas, they could set up a small base in Hengdian.

A production crew isn't just about the set and hotel—makeup rooms, rehearsal halls, meeting rooms, storage for props and costumes, and all that—requires dedicated rentals; having a dedicated base is indeed convenient, comfortable, and secure.

Compared to Zhou Yi's already several blockbusters, Tang Ren is currently far inferior.

Although they've had some decently performing dramas, many were co-produced with others.

Tang Ren's only well-known main-producer dramas are the series, The Book and the Sword, and The Yang Family Heroines.

Compared to film and television production, Tang Ren is even more praised in the industry for artist management.

Li Yapeng previously signed with Tang Ren, starred in To Love and To Cherish and The Smiling, Proud Wanderer, and became one of the Four Leading Men of the mainland.

Even Hong Kong's Guan Yonghe and Guo Jin'an have built considerable fame on the mainland.

Tang Ren's current top actress, Sun Li, was entirely nurtured by Tang Ren herself—she can be called a rising star, and she's even dating another rising leading man, Huang Sanshi.

In contrast, Zhou Yi's stubborn focus on the so-called "Zhou Yi Three Treasures" is something Yan Li simply can't understand.

Yu Bo is one thing, but the other two, aside from being martial artists, have truly poor images; Yan Li personally sees little value in them.

Probably Zhou Yi doesn't care much about this side of the business.

Nowadays, artists have limited earning power; many companies promote people not for the artists' own profits, but to use stars as banners to raise drama prices, while their own promoted artists appear in their company's dramas to cut salary costs.

Because of a certain nine-hundred-millionaire woman, Yan Li doesn't underestimate artist management and strongly endorses Tang Ren's model of combining stars with film and television.

To be honest, after meeting Cai Yinong, Yan Li found he got along well with her.

But Zhou Yi's Jiang Xuerou—though they were the first to collaborate—was merely a purely transactional relationship; their personalities and business philosophies simply didn't align.

Whenever he thought of Zhou Yi's costume, makeup, and props, he wanted to complain—but some of Tang Ren's ideas resonated with him.

After touring the White Building, Yan Li and Cai Yinong went to the second-floor meeting room and began discussing cooperation.

Tang Ren currently has few dramas in hand, only one television series called The Dandelion, starring their top actress Sun Li and a new artist named Hu Ge.

After glancing at Hu Ge's photo, Yan Li couldn't help but glance at Cai Yinong.

Yan Li admitted he had a weak heart—a no-name newcomer directly playing the male lead of a drama, with a female boss—how could he not think more?

Zhou Yi's Jiang Xuerou heavily promotes Yu Bo; there have always been all sorts of rumors, yet she's not even the boss—she's the boss's wife.

But none of this had anything to do with Yan Li; he briefly gossiped, then refocused on the matter at hand.

He read through The Dandelion's script, then watched a condensed version, his brow furrowing.

Sisters turning against each other over a man, plus amnesia plotlines.

Ugh, melodrama isn't the issue—the problem is there's no sense of standout appeal or selling points.

Sun Li has fame, but one person can't provide much boost to selling the drama; Guan Ying, Hu Ge, and the male second lead Yuan Hong are all complete newcomers—they'll definitely drag things down.

"Director Cai, to be frank, the chance of this drama airing on satellite TV is too slim, and there's little profit to be made."

Yan Li didn't want to take on this project.

Distribution is a two-sided business—you can't just build your reputation among production companies; the most valuable reputation is with TV stations.

You must maintain the seller's market, but even more so, the buyer's market.

True success in distribution means ensuring the TV station, the production company, and you as the middleman all profit together.

If most dramas passing through your hands become hits or perform well, guaranteeing TV stations also make money, you'll earn their recognition and trust.

Later on, you won't need to chase after TV stations one by one—they'll come to you for long-term cooperation.

Yian's drama selection? Trustworthy!

Therefore, Yan Li has requirements for distribution projects.

Especially after establishing a certain reputation, he won't take on just any project—he must be responsible for the TV stations' and Yian's reputation.

Still, in this business, one is bound by circumstances; Yan Li intended to secure Tang Ren as a major client and had his eyes firmly set on Tang Ren's upcoming project, The New Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio.

Thus, showing some sincerity was unavoidable.

Yan Li first claimed the satellite TV airing difficulty was too great, unsettling Cai Yinong, then switched tone and offered to help secure terrestrial channel distribution.

"I did a rough calculation—this drama is modern, mostly newcomers, and has few episodes; costs should be low. If Director Cai trusts me, I'll do my best to ensure you break even."

But Cai Yinong wasn't a greenhorn; though affected by Yan Li's words, she remained calm.

"Our drama has some shortcomings, but the quality is still solid. Besides, the more it needs help, the more it needs a distribution expert like Director Yan."

Yan Li said nothing, quietly sipped water, and looked at Cai Yinong: "What's your bottom line, Director Cai?"

"Satellite TV, first-run: ten million."

Yan Li put down his cup and stood up immediately: "Thank you for your hospitality—I'll be going."

Cai Yinong hadn't expected Yan Li to be so blunt; she quickly grabbed his arm: "Director Yan, don't rush—I never said we couldn't negotiate!"

Under Cai Yinong's soothing persuasion, Yan Li sat back down.

Having understood Cai Yinong's stance and seized the initiative, Yan Li adopted a stronger tone.

"Director Cai, I'll be straight: I'm here for Tang Ren and that new project, The New Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio. This one, The Dandelion, is just a side deal."

"I can help distribute this drama—I can't guarantee satellite TV, but breaking even should be no problem. How much profit you make depends entirely on the market and the drama's own strength."

Cai Yinong was still reluctant, but knew she had no leverage.

Both sides wanted cooperation, but Yan Li held the upper hand—he had other companies to work with if needed, while Tang Ren needed Yan Li's distribution ability.

With The Dandelion settled, they finally turned to serious cooperation: The New Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio.

This drama is Tang Ren's current flagship project, with Shanghai Film Investment involved; estimated cost: 18 to 25 million. The proposed cast is also decent.

Lin Zhiying, who became famous from The Legend of the Condor Heroes, and the currently popular Huang Xiaoming are on the list, along with Sun Li, Huang Sanshi, Young Master Zhou, Li Bingbing, Ren Quan, and others.

But the proposed list is inflated.

When The Seven Fairies of Huan Tian Xi Di did online voting, they claimed they'd get all four Little Fairies—but even getting half these stars for Tang Ren would be a stretch.

Yan Li still had high hopes for this project—the cast lineup was promising, The Strange Tales had strong name recognition, and Tang Ren's production quality was solid.

Not even mentioning risk-free distribution—even if he were to invest directly, Yan Li would gladly put up money.

"Director Cai, are you really not going to invest?"

Yan Li wanted a share, but Cai Yinong also saw great potential in "New Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio," and with Shanghai Film Corporation already on board, she was unwilling to dilute her stake further.

Seeing this, Yan Li could only drop it, then raised another request—he wanted to slip in two actors.

Cai Yinong didn't refuse this, but she gently said the actors must audition, and Tang Ren would decide their roles, though she'd try her best to accommodate.

Yan Li wasn't satisfied, but he understood—it was basically free anyway; if the roles were bad, he could just refuse them later.

Cai Yinong studied Yan Li's expression, then suddenly pulled a file from her desk.

"If Director Yan wants to invest, take a look at this project."

"The Sword and the Sorcerer?"

Yan Li opened the file, skimmed a few pages, and frowned: "A game adaptation? Can games even be turned into dramas?"

Cai Yinong had heard similar remarks before; many in film and television couldn't accept this idea.

"Hollywood's 'Resident Evil' was adapted from a game, right? Gamers are growing in number—they're the new soil for our industry."

"That's true."

Yan Li nodded. Compared to older film professionals, he was younger and more open to new things.

But regarding Cai Yinong's mention of gamers, Yan Li remained noncommittal—he was preparing to open an internet cafe and knew these people well; liking games and liking dramas were two different things.

"... 20 million investment?"

Yan Li nearly snapped the file shut—how much had "New Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio" cost? This drama alone wanted 20 million?

And he checked the lead cast—almost entirely unknown newcomers. Was this trying to trick a sucker into promoting Tang Ren's new actors?

Not just investment—he didn't even want to handle distribution!

Yan Li skimmed briefly, then offered a polite smile: "Investment is a major decision. I'll take it back, study it, and get back to you, Director Cai."

Cai Yinong saw through his perfunctory attitude and felt disappointed.

She had originally held high hopes for "The Sword and the Sorcerer," but every time she mentioned it, cold water was poured on her—earlier rumors even claimed some authority planned to shut down online game programs.

"The Sword and the Sorcerer" required heavy investment, so Cai Yinong had become hesitant and considered bringing in another company to share the risk.

But after testing a few, all responded coldly.

Yan Li and Cai Yinong had dinner, then left Hengdian for Wushi Film City.

"Huan Tian Xi Di Seven Fairies" was nearly finished—he, as producer, couldn't be absent.

When he arrived at the set, they were shooting night scenes; seeing everyone tired and low-spirited, Yan Li handed Wu Maowen a stack of cash and told him to get a few people to buy some late-night snacks to lift morale.

Then Yan Li stayed behind the director's monitor, watching the actors film, while chatting with Wang Decai, who had just arrived, about progress.

Half an hour later, Wu Maowen and others arrived with several large boxes—everything bought for the night snacks.

It was late, time was tight, but fortunately, many vendors in the film city operated night food services; the group didn't care about details and grabbed a huge pile of goods.

After informing the director, the crew took a short break; Wu Maowen and the crew assistants distributed the snacks.

One assistant director specifically shouted: "Director Yan, seeing how hard everyone worked, specially bought night snacks to reward you all."

Some savvy people immediately started chanting: "Thank you, Director Yan!"

Even several actors joined in: "Director Yan is generous!"

Yan Li took a bite of the pie: "You're not calling me Yan the Skinflint anymore?"

"Skinflint? Who said that? Step forward! Director Yan treats us so well—how heartless!"

Fan Xiaopang was indignant, jumping out to defend Yan Li; Yan Li watched coldly.

Who else could it be? You're the one who cursed him the most.

The system has already notified me five times: twice you muttered aloud, twice you cursed inwardly, once you dreamed of cursing him—wait, I'll make you learn what real skinflint means someday.

After finishing the snacks, filming resumed; Yan Li didn't leave, stayed nearby to oversee, while browsing the intelligence triggered at midnight.

Today was April 1st—the triggered items were all monthly intelligence.

Yan Li had become reckless now: besides annually offering incense for the yearly intelligence, he checked monthly intelligence only when in the mood.

But today, perhaps because he'd treated everyone to snacks, his fortune was good—he pulled eight pieces of intelligence.

【Monthly Intelligence 1: In August 2007, Li Bingbing won the Huabiao Award for Best Actress for the film "Clouds of the South."】

Yan Li memorized the three characters "Clouds of the South," then moved to the next.

【Monthly Intelligence 2: The famous Wu Xia drama "The First Supreme" began filming in April 2004 at the Wushi Film Base, with cast including Guo Jin'an, Li Yapeng, Gao Yuanyuan... Huang Shengyi...】

Yan Li had been puzzled how this intelligence triggered, but seeing the date, Wushi Film City, and Huang Shengyi, it clicked.

Good heavens—could this little witch be coming to "Huan Tian Xi Di Seven Fairies" to find him?

As for "The First Supreme" becoming popular, Yan Li wasn't surprised—Wang Pangzi carried the aura of a renowned director; this drama had already drawn heavy industry attention.

He was envious of this project, but couldn't join.

Hmm, maybe it wasn't impossible.

It depended on whether the crew had anyone who understood: many productions, even some TV stations, didn't know co-productions couldn't be broadcast on national channels—if reported, they'd be pulled.

The intelligence system had once listed Yan Li many TV drama distribution taboos and precautions, including this one.

"The First Supreme" had Xiangjiang backing—they might not know mainland rules; if they stepped into a trap...

【Monthly Intelligence 3: Actor Hu Ge rapidly rose to fame as a popular young actor due to the popularity of "The Sword and the Sorcerer"...】

?

Yan Li stared at this intelligence for half a minute, then pulled out his phone and sent a text to his secretary Hu Ya: gather all game materials for "The Sword and the Sorcerer."

【...】

【Daily Intelligence 8: Top 50 TV ratings of 2005—#1 "Beijing Smoke and Clouds," #2 "Bright Sword," #3 "Emperor Wu of Han"... #8 "The Song Dynasty Inspector"... #10 "Xiao Yuer and Hua Wuke"... #12 "The Sword and the Sorcerer"... #44 "The First Supreme"...】

Yan Li's eyes widened slightly—if he could secure half the distribution rights to next year's top fifty ratings, he'd immediately become a VIP guest at every TV station.

But soon, Yan Li calmed down; the distribution rights weren't something he could simply claim just by wanting them—he could only strive to secure them.

Moreover, Yan Li wasn't sure this intel was even accurate.

For example, "Drawing Sword" — before, there could be a monthly intel that plainly stated it was the 2005 ratings champion.

The system had triggered monthly intel quite a few times now, and Yan Li had figured out some patterns.

A piece of intel's future information didn't necessarily mean it was completely correct — differing angles, simplified information, or directly citing future data, among many reasons, could easily make part of the intel inaccurate or one-sided.

Take ratings, for instance: there were several statistical methods, and different methods produced completely different results.

National, regional, CCTV, and local satellite channel ratings rankings were all over the place, sometimes each ranking its own way.

So, most of the time, Yan Li could only treat this intel as a reference; if he followed it rigidly and obediently, he could be done for.

"Trash system."

But complaints aside, this intel's value was still substantial — Yan Li even felt it rivaled the annual intel.

Fifty dramas — even if some of the data rankings were off, they couldn't have been thrown together randomly; anything making the list had to have some real ability.

Yan Li could secure a few of these dramas, either as a producer or in charge of distribution, enough to make Yi'an Film & Television shine brilliantly next year……

(End of Chapter)