Chapter 150: Old Place, New Twist: Hai Run and

Near Beijing Film Studio, a barbecue stall

"Cheers."

Yan Li clinked his beer bottle with Zhou Yiwei, Zhang Songwen, and Lin Jiachuan, then gulped down nearly half the bottle.

After taking a sip, Lin Jiachuan stared at Zhou Yiwei with bright eyes: "Good job, kid. When did you hook up with Hai Run? Lead actor in Hai Yan drama—next up, Lu Yi or Tong Dawei."

Zhou Yiwei showed little expression: "They wanted new faces. I just submitted a resume. Didn't expect to make it all the way to lead role."

Zhang Songwen nodded: "This drama used a lot of newcomers. Zhou Yiwei, the female lead, and the second female lead are all young actors."

"Bro, you might still know them."

Zhou Yiwei looked at Yan Li: "The female lead? The actress you queued up for in 'Heroes of Sui and Tang'—Tong Lei. The second female lead is Wang Luodan. One year below us. I met her during audition. She said she knows you."

"…."

Yan Li chewed silently on two skewers. The world really is small—this could actually be connected.

But no matter what, this is Zhou Yiwei's first lead role—and the first lead role for all four of us. Definitely worth celebrating.

"Back in school, I said the two of you, Li and Yiwei, had the best shot at becoming leads. Turns out I was right."

Lin Jiachuan boasted about his foresight. Zhou Yiwei had been proven right, and Yan Li—even though he hadn't played a lead yet—could decide who played lead. That was even more powerful than being the lead.

"Bro, when can I get a lead role?"

Lin Jiachuan stared hopefully at Yan Li, who shoved a lamb kidney skewer into his mouth.

"The day I make a drama about ex-prisoners reforming, you can be the lead."

"That's fine. As long as I'm the lead, I don't care about the subject."

Lin Jiachuan chuckled, unfazed. He knew his limits. His chance of ever being a lead was tiny. If such an opportunity came, he'd take it—any genre, just to live the dream.

Zhang Songwen smiled as he watched Yan Li and Lin Jiachuan fool around. When they finished, he poured Yan Li more wine and spoke softly.

"Yiwei has a shot at the lead, but there's a problem."

Yan Li raised an eyebrow: "Hai Run wants to sign him?"

He wasn't surprised. After 'Never Close My Eyes' exploded, Lu Yi and Yuan Li became famous, their fees skyrocketed. Hai Run couldn't afford to hire them anymore.

Since then, Hai Run began focusing on artist management, recruiting Chang Jihong, and nurturing new talent.

Most of their newcomers later signed contracts or had deep ties. If a drama succeeded, the profits stayed within the family.

How could Hai Run possibly not sign Zhou Yiwei as the male lead of a Hai Yan drama? They've probably already locked down Tong Lei and Wang Luodan too.

Zhang Songwen confirmed Yan Li's guess: "Can you intervene? Talk to Hai Run and see if we can avoid signing."

"What does Yiwei think?"

Yan Li remained neutral, turning to Zhou Yiwei, who replied bluntly: "Bro, I don't want to sign with Hai Run."

"Then who do you want to sign with?"

"I want to follow you."

Yan Li smiled: "My company doesn't have an artist agency yet. Not much resource."

"Then I'll still follow you. Even if it's just behind-the-scenes work, like Jiachuan."

Zhou Yiwei spoke firmly. When he had no roles, wandering Beijing doing odd jobs, Yan Li took him to act in 'Conquest' and taught him to sell braised meat for cash.

Later, when Yan Li earned money and started investing, he placed Zhou Yiwei and Zhang Songwen into various productions.

In 'Happy Seven Fairies,' apart from Yan Li, all five male partners of the fairies were well-known actors. He was the only newcomer—and still ended up paired with the hottest actor, Li Bingbing.

Zhou Yiwei remembered all this. No Hai Run lead role could erase it.

He, Lin Jiachuan, and Zhang Songwen had already agreed: unless Yan Li refused them, they'd all sign with Yi'an and follow Yan Li.

Zhang Songwen held back Zhou Yiwei's rising emotion and spoke to Yan Li.

"When Yiwei heard he might sign with Hai Run, he planned to turn down the role. I thought the opportunity was too rare, so I came to ask your opinion—see if there's a middle ground."

Zhang Songwen was older, steady, and thought more deeply.

Zhou Yiwei, a junior actor, could only refuse if he didn't want to sign. But he couldn't negotiate with Hai Run—Yan Li could.

Didn't Tong Dawei from 'Jade Guanyin' also refuse to sign with Hai Run? It all came down to connections and influence—make Hai Run see the value in cooperating.

Yan Li nodded: "You're right. Turning it down is a waste. I'll talk to Hai Run."

"Bro, forget it. I don't want you to beg for me."

Zhou Yiwei gritted his teeth. He didn't lie—he wanted the role. But if it meant dragging Yan Li down, he'd rather walk away.

"It's not as dramatic as you think."

Yan Li knew better. This wasn't a bad thing. The industry worked this way: you help me, I help you. Slowly, everyone exchanges favors, cooperates.

He'd been planning to build ties with Hai Run anyway. Zhou Yiwei's situation was a perfect opening.

Seeing Zhou Yiwei still emotionally stuck, Yan Li patted his shoulder.

"Don't be sentimental. When I make you famous, you'll just be earning money for me."

As always: being alone on top was meaningless. Yan Li wanted to lift his brothers up together.

When his brothers gained benefits, they naturally supported and followed him—and that brought Yan Li advantages too.

Lin Jiachuan and Zhang Songwen could at best become top supporting actors.

Of the three, Zhou Yiwei had the most potential. The role of 'Rock Boy' in Hai Yan's drama wasn't just a label.

As for female artists, forget it—Hai Run had unique, precise taste for male actors.

Hu Yajie, Lu Yi, Tong Dawei, Liu Huohua, He Rundong, Chen Kun—some weren't especially handsome, but each had something distinctive.

Simply put: they were all men with character.

Zhou Yiwei was the same. His looks weren't stunning, but he was handsome in a lasting way—thick eyebrows, big eyes, youthful and clean, with stubbornness and obsession in his gaze. Raised in an artistic family, he was introverted and sensitive, carrying an artistic aura.

Yan Li thought he was perfect for cold, conflicted, or tragic roles.

Once famous, he could be packaged as an intellectual youth—even without packaging, he already was one.

Yan Li wasn't particularly fond of intellectual youths, but plenty of people were.

If handled well, Zhou Yiwei might not become top-tier, but becoming a popular heartthrob was no problem.

Currently, Yan Li is prioritizing film and TV investment and production; even if Yi'an Film later launches an artist agency, it will sign only a few artists, adopting a premium strategy.

One superstar could outvalue dozens or hundreds of minor or average artists.

Beyond Zhou Yiwei and his inner circle, Yan Li preferred ambitious, standout talents like Fan Xiaopang.

Of course, this was limited by current company scale and resources. As the company grows, artist agency strategy can adjust.

"Enough. Let's talk later. We haven't hung out in a while. Drink."

Yan Li raised his bottle. With more women around him, the company busy, and relatives scattered, he'd been neglecting his dorm mates lately.

As his status rose, pure friendships from humble days grew scarce.

Aside from his hometown folks, these dorm mates were his closest in Beijing. He cherished this friendship and hoped they'd walk this path together long-term.

"Cheers."

Lin Jiachuan, Zhou Yiwei, and Zhang Songwen raised their glasses.

Yan Li had succeeded without forgetting his old brothers, always helping and promoting them. They were deeply grateful and willing to follow and fight alongside him.

…

Yan Li woke to his phone ringing. Opening his eyes, he startled at the unfamiliar room.

After a moment, he remembered: after the barbecue, they'd gone to karaoke, stayed up late, then returned to Jimenli.

Since living with Dong Xuan and Qin Lan, he rarely came back to Jimenli.

Plus, Zhang and Lin now had steady income from acting or salaries, could afford rent—so Yan Li moved out.

After he left, Zhou Yiwei, unwilling to rely on his parents, moved into Jimenli to live with the brothers.

He answered the call—it was Dong Xuan. Her parents were at the hospital for checkups today, so the house was empty.

"…."

Yan Li understood her meaning: "Isn't that risky? What if your parents come home and catch us in bed?"

Being caught naked in bed would be too embarrassing.

Dong Xuan thought the chance was low, but after hearing Yan Li's warning, she dared not risk it—she'd come to him.

With Yan Li abroad and her stuck at home for days, they hadn't seen each other in a long time. She missed him badly.

"I'm at Jimenli. Come find me."

Yan Li gave the address, went to the bathroom to pee and wash up, then stepped out to see Zhang Songwen sleeping on the sofa.

This apartment had only three rooms. Zhou Yiwei had drunk too much last night and slept like a log. Zhang Songwen and Lin Jiachuan shared a room. Yan Li slept in Zhang Songwen's room.

"Why are you sleeping in the living room?"

Zhang Songwen woke at Yan Li's voice, rubbing his aching head: "Jiachuan is a slob. That sheet and blanket haven't been changed in ages. I couldn't sleep in that bed."

"Sorry."

Yan Li sympathetically patted Zhang Songwen. Of the four, Zhang was the cleanest and most meticulous—so Yan Li chose his room. Now he'd trapped him.

"Go back to your room. I'll be out soon."

Zhang Songwen couldn't hold his liquor or energy like Yan Li. Exhausted, he hugged his blanket and pillow and went back to sleep.

Yan Li washed up quickly, reviewing today's daily briefings, when the doorbell rang. He opened it—sure enough, it was Dong Xuan.

Though Jimenli and Beiyingchang were close, she arrived fast.

Dong Xuan stepped in, glancing around: "Where are they?"

"Drank too much last night. All asleep."

Dong Xuan relaxed, then hugged Yan Li and kissed him: "Without me, weren't you bored?"

Actually, not really.

None of the women were around; Yan Li worked during the day and spent his nights being entertained by his brothers, eating, drinking, and having fun—it wasn't bad at all.

But saying it outright would invite a scolding, so Yan Li bit down on Dong Xuan, his tone utterly plaintive.

"Can't go home, sleeping in hotels or crashing at others' places every day—what do you think?"

It just so happened that Yan Li had spent the night the day before in Jimen, and Dong Xuan had seen him there.

Dong Xuan didn't know the man had multiple hiding places; she truly believed Yan Li was wandering homeless, and felt a twinge of guilt, soothing him.

"Don't worry, I'll get my parents to leave as soon as possible."

"No need for that—they hardly ever come, let them enjoy themselves a bit longer. Besides, I'm heading back home soon to shoot a drama."

Yan Li's goal wasn't to drive Dong Xuan's parents away—he wanted compensation from her.

"Fine, fine, whatever you say."

Dong Xuan felt she'd been tricked, but she didn't care—after all, he was her man; let him play his games.

Yan Li sent a message, and the two left Jimen, planning to take a taxi to a hotel.

But as Yan Li stepped to the curb and raised his hand to hail a cab, Dong Xuan grabbed his arm, her fair face slightly flushed.

"Let's go for a stroll in Xizhimen."

Yan Li's eyes lit up—Xizhimen wasn't far from Beijing Film Academy; he and Dong Xuan used to hang out there often during school.

It wasn't that the place was especially fun—it was just that there was a clean, cheap hotel there, which had once been their weekend rendezvous spot.

Since graduation—or since their last breakup—they hadn't been back; it had been over two years.

Yan Li's voice was firm: "Let's go to Xizhimen."

Returning to an old place, revisiting familiar ground with new twists—nostalgia and romance combined.

He loved it!

————

Two days later, Yan Li met with Hai Run's boss, Liu Yanming.

Liu, whom Yan Li had long admired and called before, was someone he'd never met in person until now.

Liu Yanming was from Beijing, a journalist who later joined CCTV, becoming a producer; in the late 1980s he went into business, initially focusing on advertising, then shifting his focus to film and television in the mid-1990s.

Hai Run's rise owed much to Hai Yan and Feng Xiaogang.

Together with boss Liu Yanming, the trio—a producer, a director, and a screenwriter—formed a kind of iron triangle.

"Never Close Eyes," "Like Mist, Like Rain, Like Wind," and "What Can Save My Love?" were all their collaborative projects—the sharpest weapons Hai Run used to expand its territory in the industry.

Currently, in mainland China's film and television scene, Huayi led in films, while Hai Run quietly led in television dramas.

Of course, though these two led, neither held a decisive advantage; many companies were eager to overtake them.

Including Yan Li—despite chatting amiably with Boss Liu now, he'd long coveted seizing Hai Run's top position in television dramas.

In contrast, Liu Yanming remained remarkably calm.

Yan Li's current strength wasn't enough to be seen as a rival; he was viewed more as a capable junior.

The fact that Zhou Yiwei hadn't signed with Hai Run didn't take much discussion between them.

Hai Run didn't need one more Zhou Yiwei or newcomer, and Yan Li, who currently had no artist management, offered to open his future projects to Hai Run's artists—mutual benefit, and they quickly reached an agreement.

Compared to Zhou Yiwei's agency contract, Liu Yanming was far more interested in Yan Li's upcoming project plans.

"The Seven Fairies" earned 32 million in its first round of sales, recouping costs immediately, and likely turned a profit—impressing many film and TV companies.

Add to that the handling of "Conquest" and "Water Moon Cave Heaven."

Regardless of other factors, the industry widely acknowledged Yan Li's distribution and commercial acumen; if possible, Liu Yanming wouldn't mind collaborating.

Yan Li didn't hide it: "I'm currently considering several projects, mostly costume dramas."

At this, Liu Yanming immediately perked up.

Hai Run was indeed powerful, but it had a flaw: most of its standout works were modern or Republican-era dramas, focused on romance and realism.

For a film and TV company, this was a serious imbalance; Liu Yanming had long wanted to enter the costume drama market and expand the company's horizons.

Hai Run had made a few before, the most famous being Yu Feihong's "The Young Master's Sword," but aside from that, the rest performed poorly.

This further tilted Hai Run's projects toward modern and Republican-era themes.

But Liu Yanming hadn't given up; he wouldn't take the lead, but he was willing to invest and share in the profits.

He'd previously discussed collaboration with renowned producer Zhang Jizhong, but the talks ultimately fell through.

Yan Li had proven some capability—if his project suited them, Liu Yanming genuinely intended to cooperate.

"Mind sharing what projects you're considering?"

"Not finalized yet—mostly mythological and historical satires, though we won't rule out wuxia or comedy."

Yan Li spoke confidently on the surface, but inwardly he was anxious—he had no shortage of funds, but lacked projects that truly satisfied him.

He currently had three or four scripts and six or seven story ideas, even including two that had triggered monthly intelligence alerts, yet he still felt none were good enough.

The main project Yan Li wanted to lead had to guarantee quality, but crucially, it also needed commercial appeal and entertainment value.

In short: it had to be enjoyable and profitable.

Easy to say, hard to find.

If Cheng Lidong hadn't warned him ahead of time, he'd have tried to snatch the "Investiture of the Gods" project himself.

What about "The Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea," "The Legend of the White Snake," "The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl," "Classic of Mountains and Seas," "Yu Gong Moves the Mountain," and so on? None felt as thrilling or visually exciting as "Investiture of the Gods" with its divine battles.

In fact, Yan Li hadn't come to Hai Run today to seek investment—he was eyeing their projects.

He'd heard Hai Run was considering producing a war-resistance drama: "Bright Sword."

Long ago, Yan Li had coveted this project, even considered stealing it from Hai Run to produce himself.

But after researching, he found it difficult: the author of "Bright Sword," Liang Xiaosheng, had already partnered with Hai Run on "Blood Romance," and their intentions were longstanding—he couldn't just snatch it.

Since he couldn't steal it, he'd join in; after all, Hai Run didn't prioritize this project much—just exchange some benefits for a share.

Profit was one thing, but Yan Li needed a hit drama to rapidly boost his company's visibility, draw traffic to his other businesses, and attract investors.

"Conquest" had already brought him many benefits; "Bright Sword" was even better—he'd fight harder to secure it.

(End of Chapter)