Chapter 198: Two Palaces Recruit and Buy Horses; The King of Film Sales Strikes Again

Haidian, Yi'an Internet Cafe

Qin Lan glanced at the month's accounts: "Business is good this month."

The manager, Yan Xin, Yan Li's cousin, smiled: "It's summer vacation—students flood in, sit all day, we're packed every day."

These days, students have so few entertainment options; at home during break, those without money watch TV, those with money come to internet cafes.

Few can afford a computer at home, and even if they can, the specs and speed rarely match the comfort of a cafe.

Qin Lan noted the figures, then added: "Watch out—don't let in kids too young. Last time, the Xuanwu branch let a twelve-year-old in, got reported, the internet fees didn't cover the fallout."

Yan Xin nodded: "Got it."

At that moment, a fair-skinned girl brought two chilled drinks: "Sister-in-law, have some water."

Qin Lan watched the girl leave with a smile, then turned to Yan Xin: "You've got her?"

Yan Xin scratched his head and chuckled.

He'd been in Beijing with his cousin Yan Li for a long time, started as a supervisor, slowly became manager, now runs two cafes.

That's right—Yi'an Internet Cafe has expanded; there are six locations in Beijing alone.

Planned to open ten, then stop. Yan Li doesn't plan to stay in this business long—just make some money and place a few people. His real focus is the cinema chain.

This group, Yan Xin's cohort, has gained experience; those capable and ambitious will likely be transferred to manage cinemas.

In his early twenties, managing two cafes, earning well, respected—he naturally drew attention from girls.

But this kid's picky—he didn't fancy the female net cafe attendants or girls from the neighboring shop. Finally, he set his sights on a sister who came to fetch her younger brother—the fair-skinned girl just now.

Native Beijinger, good-looking, a primary school teacher, family well-off, parents even had some minor official position.

Yan Xin, apart from his cousin, didn't have much in terms of strength or education.

But young men don't care—they see someone they like, they go after them.

Yan Xin wasn't as handsome as his cousin Yan Li, but he was a decent-looking guy, plus the Yan family had some innate charm, and years in the cafe had made him smooth-talking and good with people.

After persistent pursuit, he actually succeeded—she was on summer break from school, now came to the cafe to date and help out.

"Does your brother know?"

"I haven't told him, but I think he might know."

Forget the system—these hometown brothers are Yan Li's eyes; nothing escapes him.

"Say it out. Let your brother vet her."

Qin Lan muttered, pulled out her wallet, took a stack of cash, and despite Yan Xin's protests, shoved it into his hands.

"Listen to your sister-in-law—dating means taking her out. You need money."

"Don't touch the shop's public account—this is private money from me and your brother. He's busy, doesn't have time to watch over you. If anything comes up, come to me."

"…."

Yan Xin couldn't refuse, took the money. Qin Lan then casually asked:

"Last time your brother mentioned your mom—your second aunt—is coming to Beijing. Why hasn't she arrived yet?"

Yan Xin hesitated: "I'll… ask later?"

"Good. Let me know what you find. If she's coming, I need to prepare properly."

"Understood."

After a few more words, Qin Lan grabbed her bag and left. Her girlfriend, who'd been watching closely, hurried over.

"Didn't your sister-in-law say she'd treat us to dinner? Why didn't she mention it just now?"

Yan Xin scratched his head, whispered: "Don't make a fuss—it's not the same one."

The girlfriend, aware of Yan Xin's cousin's status, suddenly brightened: "Is it Fan Bingbing? I used to love watching 'My Fair Princess'."

"Uh, no."

"Aren't you online saying Fan's your cousin's girlfriend?"

Yan Xin scratched harder: "I don't know if she still is—he never told me."

"So you take money from one and promise dinner to another?"

"What can I do? Who dares offend them? He says 'sister-in-law,' I call her sister-in-law. Whatever they say, I listen. If unsure, I ask him. You do the same—whomever you meet, treat them as the real sister-in-law."

"Tch."

The girlfriend looked at him with disdain: "Playing both sides—you're just like your cousin."

Yan Xin frowned: "Don't talk nonsense. Insult me, fine. Don't insult my brother."

The girlfriend knew Yan Li's weight in her boyfriend's heart, changed the subject, voice threatening: "Don't you dare copy your cousin. Or else—hmm."

"I don't have the guts or the ability…"

Yan Xin began professing loyalty again—his cousin was great, but his lifestyle tarnished the Yan family name.

He himself got scolded by his girlfriend regularly; he'd heard even his eldest cousin back home was tightly watched by his sister-in-law.

Even his father and two uncles, men in their fifties, had been affected. Lucky his grandfather died early—otherwise he'd have been caught too…

…

After checking accounts, Qin Lan visited a pet store, preparing to stock up.

After 'The Inspector' became popular, script offers poured in, but Qin Lan was now 'picky'—turned down many.

She was famous enough, and had powerful backing—her agent and company couldn't force her.

Luckily, she cooperated with some commercial and advertising events, so the company still made money and turned a blind eye.

And she didn't reject every script—she accepted 'The Inspector 2,' currently in prep, slated to start shooting by year-end.

But Qin Lan heard the lead actor might be replaced.

Some said He Bing, others said even she'd be replaced—no clear info yet, but she kept her schedule open.

Recently, Ma Yili recommended her a role in her own drama, 'Embroidered Uniform Guard.'

The part wasn't big, but she accepted because of director Zhang Li's reputation.

More importantly, she figured Yan Li might be shooting 'The Legend of Xue Rengui' in Hengdian—she could go find him there.

If the role was big, she'd have no time to see him; if small, she could spend more time with him.

Just leaving the pet store, she got a call—a production team wanted to meet her for an audition.

"Audition?"

Qin Lan was confused—why hadn't her agent told her about this?

Suspecting a scam, she was about to hang up when the caller mentioned the drama was produced by Yi'an.

"Uh…"

Qin Lan hesitated—could this be a role Yan Li arranged for her? But why hadn't he told her?

She called Yan Li—he told her to wait. Ten minutes later, he called back, voice odd.

"The producer and screenwriter think your image fits. If you're free, go check it out—if it's right, you'll play it."

Qin Lan thought it over—since it was confirmed as Yi'an's project, she had no reason to refuse. Any role was a role—better to help her own business.

She called back the number, got in her red BMW, and drove to Yi'an Film & Television.

She'd rarely visited the company her boyfriend founded.

Yet another woman was about to openly become the company's top star—and in many hearts, the boss's wife.

Hmph—she mentally stuck pins into that pair of bastards, then stepped into Yi'an Film & Television.

The office felt much more spacious than last time, more staff—she didn't have time to look around before being led to the reception room.

Soon, a young man with glasses entered, beaming with flattery, extremely courteous.

"Miss Qin Lan…"

After a few words, she learned his name was Yu Zheng—Yi'an's screenwriter and one of the producers of 'The Qing Palace,' the drama that had invited her.

These days, screenwriters often became producers or even directors.

Though sometimes undervalued in the industry, screenwriters were indispensable—many climbed up through them.

Many famous directors and producers started as screenwriters; the Haiyan and Qiong Yao dramas centered entirely on them.

But for someone like Yu Zheng, so young, to be directly appointed producer—rare.

"It's all thanks to Director Yan's boldness—he's willing to promote and elevate us newcomers. Yi'an's rapid growth owes entirely to his foresight…"

Yu Zheng went on gushing—Qin Lan nearly couldn't bear it.

She realized—he'd been groveling since he saw her, showering Yan Li with praise—he definitely knew her relationship with Yan Li.

"Director Yu… how do I audition?"

"Just call me by my name."

Yu Zheng dared not be arrogant—he needed her help.

'The Qing Palace' had been greenlit but was still unstable—even funding wasn't fully secured; the company clearly prioritized other projects.

Newly promoted producer Yu Zheng was anxious, so he turned to people close to Yan Li.

Everyone knew Yan Zong's style—pillow talk definitely worked.

He first tried asking Fan Xiaopang; Fan helped a bit but was already committed to 'The White-Haired Witch'—couldn't give much.

Luckily, some company staff had worked on 'The Investiture of the Gods' and 'The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng'—sharp-eyed ones, under Yu Zheng's efforts, dug up Qin Lan.

This was someone even Fan Xiaopang kept his distance from!

Yu Zheng was thrilled—if he could get Qin Lan onto 'The Qing Palace,' many things would become easier.

To prevent mishaps, he didn't even notify his superiors.

After all, he was the producer—he had casting authority. Plus, Qin Lan's status was discreet—he pretended ignorance, acted as if he'd simply noticed her image and acting, and got her here first.

But one problem: Qin Lan didn't match his envisioned female lead, Xilin Chun—she'd suit better as second or third female lead.

But if Qin Lan could whisper a word or two to Yan Li on his behalf, he thought he could accept it—just tweak the character's backstory if needed.

What he hadn't expected was how unexpectedly cooperative Qin Lan was.

She did, however, resist playing a villainess, willing only to audition for a female second lead who redeems herself later, or a tragic supporting female role.

That would be fine!

When Yu Zheng noticed Qin Lan hadn't chosen the female lead, he immediately finalized the casting.

He'd watched Qin Lan's performances before—her acting was solid, and her Qing-dynasty costume look was flawless; after all, she debuted in *My Fair Princess 3*.

You can say Zhihua is evil, but you can't say she's ugly.

The later salary negotiations would be handled by the production team and Qin Lan's agent; now that Yi'an had money, though her fee remained somewhat conservative, it was merely cost control—not nearly as stingy as before.

After *The Great Song Inspector*, Qin Lan's fame wasn't bad—she could be considered a second-tier actress, with a per-episode fee of roughly 10, 00 to 30, 00 yuan.

The exact amount depended on episode count, role, and production conditions; for *The Qing Dynasty Harem*, her role spanned thirty episodes, and with Yu Zheng sure to give her some preferential treatment, her fee wouldn't be lower than 600, 00 to 800, 00 yuan.

Anything more wouldn't work—not just for cost control, but because an excessively high fee for a single role, if leaked, could spark resentment among other actors and disrupt internal harmony.

The production set was a world of fame and profit; even the order of names on the credits sparked disputes, let alone real money in salaries.

Yu Zheng wanted to invite Qin Lan to dinner to build rapport, but she declined.

Qin Lan's first impression of Yu Zheng wasn't good.

She wasn't stupid; combined with his attitude and that phone call she'd had with Yan Li, she guessed she might be used.

If the script hadn't been good, if it hadn't been her own company's project, and if Yan Li hadn't spoken up, Qin Lan would've left long ago.

Yu Zheng realized he'd slipped up, but at least he'd gotten her here. He'd make up for it gradually, smiling as he saw Qin Lan off.

Just as they reached the door, he saw a round-faced girl waiting—and froze.

"Hu Zong?"

"Producer Yu."

Hu Ya greeted him, then beamed at Qin Lan: "Sister Lan, why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

As Chief Eunuch and Head of the Office of Ceremonial, Hu Ya primarily handled company affairs, but she'd occasionally dealt with Qin and Dong due to various matters, and knew their weight in the boss's eyes—she dared not be careless.

"Not bad—you've been promoted to Hu Zong."

Qin Lan chuckled teasingly; when she first met Hu Ya, the girl was just a junior, and now she was a "big shot"—even Yu Zheng, a producer, had to address her as "Zong."

Hu Ya quickly waved her hands: "It's all just joking around. Yan Zong isn't here—I'm just riding on his coattails."

After chatting a bit and learning Qin Lan was leaving, Hu Ya immediately gripped her arm.

"Don't go yet—it's almost dinnertime. You rarely come to the company; I have to treat you properly. There's a great Hunanese restaurant nearby—I'll take you."

"This…"

Qin Lan was willing to give Hu Ya face—she'd just turned down Yu Zheng; now accepting Hu Ya's invitation—wouldn't that look like favoritism?

Yu Zheng didn't mind. He grinned and said boldly: "Ladies, can I tag along? I just remembered some character details I'd like to discuss with Sister Lan."

Qin Lan: "..."

Hu Ya calling her "sister" was fine—she was genuinely younger. But how old was Yu Zheng? Why call her "sister"?

Yu Zheng was indeed older than Qin Lan—by just one year—but in this circle, calling someone "brother" or "sister" wasn't about age.

Qin Lan couldn't refuse, but she didn't want to have dinner with Yu Zheng. As she hesitated, Yu Zheng gritted his teeth and whispered:

"Sister Lan, here's the thing: someone recommended Dong Xuan for the female lead. I think she's unsuitable, but I can't easily turn her down—I'd like you to mention it to Yan Zong."

Qin Lan frowned at Yu Zheng. Whether this was true didn't matter—what mattered was the attitude he revealed.

After a moment of silence, Qin Lan smiled: "If you're tagging along for dinner, you're paying."

Yu Zheng grinned sheepishly: "Of course."

Hu Ya: "..."

She didn't want to go anymore. It was just a meal—how did she end up picking a side?

Yu Zheng wanted to cling to a powerful leg; she didn't want to offend Dong Xuan.

Most importantly, Fan Xiaopang was coming soon—he was the real tough guy, and he was in the company. If he thought she favored one side, he might take it out on her.

But if she bolted now, she'd alienate Qin Lan completely. She had no choice but to force a smile and join them, silently cursing Yu Zheng to hell.

Yu Zheng vaguely sensed Hu Ya's mood but didn't care.

Betting on Qin Lan wasn't something he'd thought about for just a day or two.

Hu Ya's indecisive behavior wasn't likable, but since Yan Li protected her, it didn't matter.

But others who tried to avoid offending anyone were safe, yes—but they also gained no support or favor from either side, making it hard to rise.

Fortune favors the bold!

Choosing a side might invite some hostility, but it also made it easier to gain strong backing from one faction.

Qin Lan was an "unheated stove"—not yet noticed or bet on by many. The risk might be high, but the payoff, if correct, would be huge.

Yu Zheng was a gambler. After brief contact with Qin Lan, he'd subtly gauged her personality, combined with prior research, and made his move decisively.

Of course, he played it safe—he ignored Fan Xiaopang, who had helped him before and was powerful, and targeted Dong Xuan instead.

If Qin Lan proved unreliable, he could still crawl to Fan Xiaopang for help...

The dinner left Qin Lan and Yu Zheng very satisfied; Hu Ya, however, was restless.

After much hesitation, she pulled out her phone and called Yan Li.

"Hmm, I know."

Yan Li hung up, his mood still calm.

He'd long sensed this tension. Though Huang Shengyi had stepped forward to "take responsibility," calming tensions.

But Fan Xiaopang's imminent arrival still stirred nerves among Qin and Dong.

The two, who had previously focused only on Yan Li, now began consciously courting others—even meddling in Yi'an, which they'd never interfered with before.

Qin Lan had Yu Zheng, her "fire-stoking expert," on her side; Dong Xuan, meanwhile, claimed kinship as sister-in-law, showing concern for Zhang Songwen, Lin Jiachuan, Zhou Yiwei, and several of Yan Li's hometown brothers.

Zhang, Lin, and Zhou—their college roommates—had known Dong Xuan since university and naturally trusted her more, as she was Yan Li's earliest sister-in-law.

Those hometown brothers, facing Dong Xuan—the first sister-in-law Yan Li ever introduced—also treated her with great respect.

The roommates held little real power in the company, but their relationship with Yan Li meant everyone had to give them some face.

Those hometown brothers weren't ordinary staff; some capable ones had risen to lead production teams.

Through them, plus her own status, Dong Xuan could influence many things.

How to put it? Neither truly sought power or profit—just one thought: they couldn't let Fan's side take over the company.

If Fan Xiaopang became Yi'an's boss lady, commanding obedience while they were ignored, what would be left for them to do?

Yan Li didn't take it seriously. Even without Qin and Dong, the company had plenty of small factions.

Their people were, in a sense, his people—they all knew who truly held power.

Of course, he still had to give warnings to prevent internal conflict.

Uh… internal conflict was inevitable—no growing company escaped it. The key was keeping it controllable, not letting it disrupt the company's overall stability.

Ignoring these minor incidents, Yan Li finalized negotiations with Hunan Satellite TV over *The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng*.

The result was somewhat disappointing, but Yan Li had prepared for it.

He'd dealt with many satellite channels; Hunan TV was the hardest to negotiate with—possessing platform advantages, strong confidence, and professional staff, which squeezed producers' profits.

Selling to them guaranteed profit, but to make big money, you needed luck.

Though *The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng* was progressing slowly, *The Investiture of the Gods* was going well.

Hunan Satellite TV favored the divine battles in it, believing it would attract many teenage viewers—they valued this market segment highly and showed greater sincerity.

Yan Li, however, wasn't obsessed with breaking records for *The Investiture of the Gods* and hadn't set an exorbitant price.

The only issue left: the price hadn't been settled!

Yan Li hoped for 30 to 32 million yuan; Hunan TV preferred no more than 28 million.

Hunan Satellite TV was negotiating for exclusive first-run broadcast rights—this price wasn't low, but not exceptionally high either.

At least Yan Li was confident he could find several satellite channels for a joint broadcast and sell first-run rights for over 30 million.

But Hunan TV offered one tempting condition: full payment within one month after broadcast.

This was why, despite being difficult, Hunan TV remained one of Yan Li's top preferred partners.

They bargained hard, but paid promptly!

Many second- and third-tier satellite channels offered high contract prices but delayed payments for years—or never paid at all. Even if the price was 100 million, Yan Li wouldn't work with them.

Lower price but prompt payment? Higher price but delayed payment? Anyone who's done business knows who to choose.

Money in hand is money!

Only Yan Li, with his system, knew the true bottom price and could hold out—others would've agreed long ago.

Finally, after securing additional promotion and media resources, plus several variety show appearances, Yan Li gave in.

*The Investiture of the Gods: Phoenix Sings at Qishan* was acquired by Hunan Satellite TV for 28 million yuan in exclusive first-run broadcast rights.

Since it was sold alongside *The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng*, the terrestrial channel distribution hadn't been rolled out yet—but it still earned several million.

The final investment for this drama was roughly 35 million yuan—already nearly recouped.

How much profit it would make was uncertain—it depended on subsequent distribution and satellite broadcast performance.

But for Yan Li, money was already coming in.

For *The Investiture of the Gods*, 30 million yuan in external investment accounted for 60% of shares; he and Yongle each held 20%, contributing 5 million yuan together.

Of course, the coal boss wasn't stupid—this ratio was absurdly skewed.

So Yongle valued the production costs as compensation, and Yan Li and Yi'an's distribution share was only 8%.

Even so, Yu Yanli could claim nearly ten million from current earnings, and after deducting costs, he'd still net several million in profit.

Not to mention, more revenue would keep flowing in continuously, all pure profit.

But this return paled in comparison to The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng.

After leaving Xingcheng in Hunan Province, Yu Yanli went to the Magic City, then headed for Jingcheng; with prior groundwork, he finally secured the first-round broadcast rights for The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng.

Three provincial satellite channels—Jingcheng, the Magic City, and Anhui—acquired the first-round broadcast rights for The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng at one million per episode, totaling forty million.

Yi'an, having invested over two million plus production costs, held a 40% share of the drama and an additional 12% distribution cut.

Since Yi'an's distribution contracts typically deducted distribution fees from the total sale price before allocating profits to investors according to their shares.

Thus, Yi'an's share amounted to roughly twenty million; even after subtracting the two-million cost, it far surpassed the profits from The Investiture of the Gods.

Keep in mind, this was only the satellite channel's first round—revenues from terrestrial channels and other sources hadn't even been counted.

If it performed well, it had a strong chance of surpassing Yi'an's most profitable project, The Seven Fairies.

…

Yu Yanli made no effort to hide that The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng had broken records.

He aimed specifically to break records—not just to earn more, but also for publicity.

When The Seven Fairies was sold, Yu Yanli had already tasted the benefits of this strategy.

The higher you price it, the more valuable the drama appears, the more eager buyers become, and the higher your asking price can be.

Yi'an wasn't yet at the stage of quietly accumulating wealth; at this point, if you weren't making money, you had to shout that you were, and if you were making money, you had to scream even louder, until your voice broke.

But unlike last time with The Seven Fairies, when everyone was merely stunned by the sky-high price,

this time, while marveling at Yu Yanli's reputation as the King of Drama Sales, their eyes turned to The Return of the Condor Heroes.

The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng sold for one million per episode—The Return of the Condor Heroes was still slightly more powerful in momentum; how much could it fetch?

Whoosh~

Zhang Dashizi angrily swept the meeting room documents onto the floor, glaring furiously at the distribution head and roaring insults.

"Useless! They're selling one episode for a million—what the hell are you even doing?"

"If you're so great, go sell it yourself!"

The distribution head was also fed up; since the start of distribution, Zhang Dashizi had been pressuring him daily.

Didn't he know how damn difficult those TV stations were?!

His team had traveled nationwide, eating poorly, sleeping poorly, groveling, smiling through every humiliation; several team members ended up hospitalized, one with gastric bleeding; he himself had had blood pressure above 180 for over two months.

After all that grueling effort, they finally secured a price of 850, 00 per episode.

It wasn't the highest in the industry, but it was top-tier distribution—other production teams would have treated him like a god of wealth; yet he was being pointed at and cursed.

"I quit."

The distribution head kicked his chair aside: "You go flexing your muscles and use me as a scapegoat—clean up your own shit. All you know is bluster—go sell it yourself! If you can get eighty thousand per episode, I'll take your surname, fuck."

Someone tried to intervene, but Zhang Dashizi waved them off: "Let him go. I don't believe it—Yu Yanli's little bastard can sell for a million, and we can't? He sells for a million, we'll sell for 1. million per episode."

Upon hearing this, the two remaining members of the distribution team immediately stood up to leave.

This guy was truly unhinged—no one could serve him anymore.

Zhang Dashizi was now truly furious: "All of you leave—I'll sell it myself. I refuse to believe I can't land a one-million-per-episode contract."

Hearing this, the representative from Ciwen Pictures, the producing company, frowned.

"Director Zhang, I understand your frustration, but we can't let petty pride harm everyone's interests."

Zhang Dashizi could still land a one-million-per-episode contract if he was willing to push hard.

But a contract isn't the same as actual revenue.

A listed price of one million doesn't mean the TV station pays one million—some stations only pay six hundred thousand upfront and withhold the rest; such deals aren't unheard of.

But doing so damages the investors' interests, risks tax issues, and may affect broadcast performance, potentially undermining the entire drama's success.

To chase a hollow reputation and risk so much money and exposure—Zhang Dashizi might be reckless, but others wouldn't follow him.

"So you want me to admit defeat to that kid?"

Zhang Dashizi refused to yield; others urged him: "First-round sales aren't everything—we can strike later and make even more than he does."

The words were true, but everyone had witnessed the King of Drama Sales in action.

He sold satellite first-round rights at a million per episode—how could terrestrial channels possibly lag behind? Later gains? They feared falling further and further behind.

No sooner had the words ended than a nervous assistant came in to report: "Director Zhang, Yi'an has announced they've sold the Taiwan rights for The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng."

Everyone tensed, watching Zhang Dashizi; he took two heavy breaths, then suddenly blurted out:

"What if we hand The Return of the Condor Heroes over to him for distribution?"

"???"

————

PS: Got held up today, fewer words—will make up tomorrow.

(End of Chapter)