Chapter 206: A Woman Who

The cast and crew of "The White-Haired Witch"

After filming ended, Fan Xiaopang and Li Lin headed to the dressing room; Li Lin quickly changed clothes, barely removed her makeup, and called out to leave.

"I'm going home to feed the baby. See you tomorrow."

Fan Xiaopang couldn't help shaking his head: "What a miserable marriage."

During last year's Spring Festival Gala, Li Lin was pregnant on set; even now, her child has only been born a few months, and she still has to breastfeed daily.

This state is clearly unsuitable for working outside.

But since Li Lin is the family's main breadwinner, after marriage and childbirth, expenses poured out like water, income couldn't cover costs, and there seemed to be some trouble on her parents' side too—financial pressure was heavy.

Just then, she had a minor quarrel with her husband; hearing Fan Xiaopang recommend her for "The White-Haired Witch," she impulsively came along, baby in arms.

Because she was still nursing, Li Lin had to divide her attention between the child, making many things inconvenient.

Fortunately, Fan Xiaopang helped mediate on set, and privately, her assistant and mother took turns caring for the baby, so Li Lin managed to keep up—but it drained her mentally and physically.

When she first joined the crew, Li Lin still had that postpartum softness, but soon after filming began, she lost weight rapidly.

Her eyes and brows carried a trace of fatigue, but since her character He Ehuah was tragic by nature, this weary look suited her perfectly.

Over these days, watching Li Lin suffer so much, Fan Xiaopang had learned quite a few lessons.

First, never abandon your career because of a man's recklessness.

Li Lin was once on an upward career trajectory; had she pushed a few more years, her fame could have risen further, or she could have saved more money before choosing to have a child—her life would've been far easier.

Second, don't marry a man inferior to you.

At critical moments, he won't help you—he might even drag you down—and daily conflicts often arise from the dynamic of a weak husband and strong wife.

Li Lin told Fan Xiaopang that after marriage, every argument she had with her husband, even if not sparked by this issue, was amplified by it.

Third, don't become a mother so young.

Li Lin is only one year older than Fan Xiaopang, just twenty-five, still in full bloom—but now she's tied down by the child, and even going out for dinner or shopping requires checking if the baby's bottle has enough milk.

When filming "The Seven Fairies," Li Lin played the eldest fairy, relying mostly on makeup, demeanor, and performance to portray the older sister.

Now, Fan Xiaopang felt she looked two or three years older than she did during the Spring Festival Gala.

Aside from Li Bingbing, the old hand, she's become the "real elder sister" now...

The more he thought about it, the more sighs he let out; as he stepped out of the dressing room and got into the car with a hot water bottle, he muttered to his assistant.

"All men are no good."

"How can you say that?"

The "driver" in the front seat expressed displeasure: "Don't smear an entire group—you're hurting good men like us."

"Driver, I'm not talking about you."

As the assistant was still explaining, Fan Xiaopang leaned forward, reached into the driver's seat, and pulled off the man's mask—surprised.

"What are you doing here?"

Yan Li, gripping the steering wheel, turned and kissed Fan Xiaopang: "Missed you."

"Liar."

Fan Xiaopang's surprise faded; she rubbed her cheek, disgusted by the kiss.

"When you celebrated your birthday in Beijing with your 'ex-girlfriend,' why didn't you say you missed me?"

Yan Li: "..."

This woman was never as easy to soothe as Qin Lan—or rather, she wouldn't and didn't bother pretending ignorance; she'd find fault and push back.

"I was busy with work. Besides, the moment I got to Hengdian, I came straight to you—I didn't even go back for 'The Legend of Xue Rengui.'"

"You went to 'The Imperial Harem of the Great Qing,' didn't you?"

Fan Xiaopang doubted him; Yan Li protested: "I swear, the moment I arrived in Hengdian, I came to you. Look, here's the highway toll receipt—check the time."

"I'm not looking."

Fan Xiaopang pretended not to look, but secretly glanced—there was indeed no issue.

Slightly pleased inside, she sniffed haughtily: "Set off for the palace."

Yan Li glanced at the assistant, pulled out her purse, randomly grabbed a few bills, and slapped them into the assistant's hand.

"My sister and I have something to do. Take a taxi yourself."

"Got it!"

The assistant beamed—this location wasn't far from the hotel; a tricycle ride would cost less than ten yuan. What a windfall.

Grabbing the money, the assistant hopped out happily; just before closing the door, she suddenly remembered and reminded:

"Sis, the one you told me to buy last time—it's in the innermost pocket of your bag."

"I know. Go now."

Fan Xiaopang shooed her away, embarrassed; once the assistant left, Yan Li raised an eyebrow: "Which one?"

"Stop nagging. Just drive."

Yan Li put on her mask, started the car, and headed straight for Dongyang city.

Hengdian's hotels were crowded and full of eyes; unless filming demanded it and time was tight, Yan Li preferred the city—more private, more secure.

After about half an hour, the car slowly entered a neighborhood called "Zhongtian Century Huacheng."

Fan Xiaopang instantly understood: "Bought another house?"

"Mm."

Yan Li always felt buying a house was safer than staying in hotels. She wanted to buy near Hengdian, but the nearby neighborhoods were underwhelming, so she settled for Dongyang for now.

This neighborhood, he'd searched for a while—it was a mid-to-high-end area in Dongyang, with relatively good internal facilities.

Crucially, it was close to Hengdian and well-connected by transport; if you drove fast, you could reach Hengdian in about half an hour.

They got out, took the elevator up, entered the apartment, and Fan Xiaopang started being difficult again: "Which woman have you brought here before?"

Yan Li glanced at her: "Are you done? How boring."

Dongyang's housing prices were far cheaper than Beijing's; Yan Li bought two apartments outright.

In the other one, he and Wang Ou tested the bed during Wang Ou's birthday; the one they were in now, Li Bingbing had visited once.

They were all old acquaintances, had slept together before—Fan Xiaopang shouldn't mind.

"Why so eager?"

Fan Xiaopang thought Yan Li was being evasive; he didn't argue, just pulled her close and kissed her fiercely.

"You're always jealous for no reason. Are you pickling vegetables?"

Once, Dong Xuan was the biggest jealous one; now it was Fan Xiaopang—even worse. If Dong Xuan was a vinegar jar, Fan Xiaopang was a vinegar barrel.

Fan Xiaopang squirmed in Yan Li's lap, embarrassed.

Sometimes she thought jealousy was pointless, but she couldn't help it—just imagining Yan Li being intimate with another woman made her ache.

All because of this damn man, turning her into a glamorous female star into a lonely, bitter wife.

Fan Xiaopang angrily bit down on Yan Li; Yan Li bit back, and soon they were biting their way into the bedroom.

Yan Li finally understood what "that" was—he'd never known something could be this thin.

Hmph, the Japanese really know how to research...

After the battle ended, Fan Xiaopang traced her finger over Yan Li's little bumps, complaining about Li Lin's hard life and her unreliable husband.

Yan Li half-listened, half-ignored; seeing his indifference, Fan Xiaopang pinched him.

"Why do you have no sympathy?"

"What's it to me? She's not having my child. She chose her own path—she walks it alone."

Fan Xiaopang empathized because she was close to Li Lin and shared the same gender and profession, but Yan Li couldn't relate.

So what if her husband's useless and she's working with a baby? There are countless others like her—many worse off.

Could he possibly sympathize with them all?

Still, she was a friend, and out of respect for Fan Xiaopang, Yan Li made a gesture.

"I'll get her a higher fee. Have the producer treat her better."

That was all—he couldn't go comfort her or babysit for her.

Fan Xiaopang could be bold, but Yan Li had no interest in affairs with married women.

Too immoral!

Even Jiang Shan in "Conquest" had been a stain on his life; since then, Yan Li had vowed never to touch a married woman—even those with partners were best avoided.

"Sigh, I always thought her husband was no good. She should've divorced him."

Fan Xiaopang turned her blame toward Li Lin's husband; Yan Li's eyes lit up and nodded: "Divorce is good. I'll take care of her."

"No need."

Just moments ago, Fan Xiaopang accused Yan Li of having no sympathy; now that he had "sympathy," she exploded.

"Don't think I don't know what you're thinking—you want to collect all seven fairies, don't you?"

Back when filming, this damn man had been itching to get his hands on them, always scheming for an advantage—but Dong Xuan led the crackdown and stopped him.

Now Dong Xuan was his, Li Bingbing was his, and knowing him as she did, he'd surely have other schemes.

Hu Siyan? No need to mention—she'd been eyeing Yan Li for ages; one signal from him and she'd be his.

Yang Xue? He knew her well—she kept quiet on the surface, but secretly held strong feelings for him; if he put in effort, he'd easily win her.

Jiang Xin was harder to judge, but she didn't seem to resist being close to Yan Li—watch out.

The only one who showed no interest in Yan Li—and whom Yan Li himself hesitated over—was married Li Lin.

If she divorced him, wouldn't that be exactly what this damn man wants?

Yan Li looked innocent: "You're the one who said she should divorce him, now you're blaming me? What's this about collecting seven fairy maidens—you're treating me like the Yin Shi King."

The Yin Shi King collected the seven fairy maidens to dominate Heaven, seize the Queen Mother, and become the father of the seven fairy maidens.

He… uh… cough… he'd rather be the Jade Emperor and be a good father…

Without further argument, Yan Li went along with Fan Xiaopang's complaints about Li Lin's husband.

Though somewhat dull, it wasn't without benefits—putting down the other made oneself look better.

At least Fan Xiaopang, by comparison, felt her own taste was superior.

Yan Li supports her career and holds up an entire sky for her; no worries about male weakness and female strength causing conflict—far superior to Li Lin's husband by many times.

Pressing her lovely face against Yan Li's chest, Fan Xiaopang sighed: "If you weren't so fickle, you'd be the best man in the world."

Yan Li grinned: "If I weren't fickle, you wouldn't have any business with me."

Fan Xiaopang: "..."

She truly had no strong rebuttal.

If Yan Li weren't fickle, and devoted himself to Dong Xuan or Qin Lan, she could only watch silently; when they married, she might not even get to be a bridesmaid.

So if you put it that way… was Yan Li being fickle actually a good thing?!

Yan Li looked at Fan Xiaopang, who seemed to be questioning reality, and shook his head.

She kept nagging him to turn from evil, but forgot she herself was evil—if he truly changed, she'd be the first to cry…

————

The next afternoon, Yan Li finally returned to the set of "The Legend of Xue Rengui," immediately beginning filming the scene where he rescues the emperor.

Emperor Li Shimin was being chased by the Bohai general Tie Shiwén and, in his panic, fell into a horse-trap.

The actor playing Tie Shiwén was Ji Chunhua, a renowned mainland villain actor known for roles like the Bald Eagle in "Shaolin Temple" and Duan Yanqing in "The Legend of the Condor Heroes."

In "The Legend of Xue Rengui," Tie Shiwén is modeled after Gai Suwen, who was said to be the reincarnation of Shan Xiongxin, harboring a grudge from his past life and determined to destroy the Tang dynasty.

First kill Tang Tong Li Shimin, then exterminate all the Wagang brothers to avenge his past.

In the original novel, Gai Suwen killed Qi Guoyuan and twenty-six other Wagang brothers; apart from a few like Cheng Yaojin, nearly all were killed—he was a ruthless man among ruthlessness.

The TV series cut many legendary plotlines and removed reincarnation and destined rivals.

Tie Shiwén is simply a man whose ambition has swollen—he plans rebellion because his martial skill and tactics are unmatched; other generals who face him are just cannon fodder. Veteran generals like Qin Qiong and Yuchi Gong are either dead or weakened and cannot defeat him—only Xue Rengui can.

Ji Chunhua is an excellent actor, skilled in both martial and dramatic scenes, especially in portraying ferocious, ruthless villains—he brings them vividly to life.

Seeing Li Shimin trapped in the pit, Tie Shiwén beamed: "Heaven aids me!"

The original script had Li Shimin begging Tie Shiwén desperately, even writing a document to cede half his empire.

Yan Li thought it was too humiliating. Though the protagonist needed to be highlighted, making Li Shimin appear weak, the great Emperor Taizong of Tang couldn't beg so humbly—it dishonored the Tang.

So he cut the begging scene; Li Shimin only cried out in desperate panic.

"Who will save me?"

"Who will save me?"

Watching Li Shimin's panic, Tie Shiwén smirked, deliberately letting him shout for a long while until his despair deepened, then laughed loudly.

"No one will save you."

As he raised his blade to strike, a sharp arrow whistled through the air. Years of battlefield experience let him barely dodge the lethal shot.

He turned to see a white-cloaked, white-armored general galloping toward him on a white horse, still drawing his bow.

"..."

Tie Shiwén's soul nearly fled—he twisted aside again, and the arrow pierced the tree beside his ear.

The once-arrogant Tie Shiwén, struck by the archer's divine shot, scrambled and rolled into the dense forest.

The newcomer didn't pursue; he first rescued Li Shimin. After brief exchange, Li Shimin realized the young white-armored general was the prophesied virtuous minister he had long awaited—Xue Rengui.

This plotline was the biggest climax of the early part of "The Legend of Xue Rengui."

After countless missed encounters, emperor and minister finally met; the truth was revealed, Xue Rengui saved the emperor, earning great merit—satisfying the audience's long-held anticipation, truly a climax within a climax.

But the original script handled it poorly—just driving Tie Shiwén away and recognizing each other was all.

This arrangement was like scratching through clothing—it should have been more thrilling, more satisfying.

So the new script completely overhauled it: a threefold rescue of the Tang emperor.

The first rescue was just now—the most perilous, a rescue from under the blade.

The second rescue: Tie Shiwén, startled by the divine arrow, regrouped with a few officers and troops to recapture Li Shimin.

This made more sense—the original script had Tie Shiwén flee alone after one defeat by Xue Rengui, which was absurd.

Plot-wise, Tie Shiwén launched a surprise attack; he held numerical superiority, and Li Shimin was the enemy emperor—he must capture him at all costs. How could he just give up?

With Li Shimin present, Tie Shiwén was cautious, fearing collateral damage, so Xue Rengui chose to charge in on horseback.

Tie Shiwén had fought Xue Rengui before and knew he couldn't win—he planned to surround and overwhelm him.

But Xue Rengui surged left and right, his halberd whirling like a storm, slaughtering Tie Shiwén's men into disarray; Tie Shiwén himself lost his helmet and broke his blade, fleeing in disgrace.

Li Shimin became a fanboy, watching Xue Rengui with delight: "The prophesied virtuous minister, a heavenly general—truly a blessing for the Great Tang!"

To show off, you must show off to the right person—perform before the old emperor, and the satisfaction comes.

But that wasn't the end. When the emperor and minister emerged from the mountains, Tie Shiwén returned again.

This time he brought tens of thousands of troops, surrounding them tightly. Even if Xue Rengui was invincible, he couldn't kill so many.

Tie Shiwén laughed arrogantly: "See how you two run now."

The villain gloated; the allies panicked. Li Shimin's face was filled with despair: "Is this where my minister and I will meet our end?"

Xue Rengui said: "Don't panic—watch me show off again."

He took off his armor and put it on Li Shimin, then mounted the same horse, letting the emperor cling to him, then spurred the horse into the enemy ranks.

Seven charges through seven lines, a wild slaughter—then they rode off unscathed.

Tie Shiwén's face turned ashen; he muttered dejectedly: "One day, I will surely die by this man's hand."

Li Shimin danced with joy, crying to the heavens: "Heaven protects the Great Tang! Heaven protects the Great Tang!"

Correct—this final segment was a blatant copy of Changban Slope, where Zhao Zilong saved the young lord, while Xue Rengui saved the old emperor.

Never mind whether it's real—what matters is whether it's satisfying!

Yan Li certainly enjoyed playing it; though the martial scenes were tricky, at least during the charge, the thrill made his crown feel cool.

Too bad the emperor behind him was an old man—if it were a beautiful woman, it'd be even better.

Director Feng Xiaoning also enjoyed it, watching the playback several times. Though the number of soldiers was small and the scene looked a bit sparse, it was undeniably an extremely thrilling charge sequence.

Especially Yan Li—he rode with mastery, his movements precise; when he accelerated slightly later, he became a true general descending from heaven.

Honestly, the script of "The Legend of Xue Rengui" was a bit weak.

After all, it was modeled after classical storytelling; even with major revisions, some plots remained clichéd—but the martial and battle scenes definitely lifted its quality.

The production spared no expense, the actors delivered, especially Yan Li's portrayal of Xue Rengui, which radiated the aura of a great general.

He had seen Yan Li's performances as Huo Qubing and the cavalry company in "Sword of the Loyal," both outstanding; now his Xue Rengui was equally brilliant. Soon, whenever similar general roles came up, the industry would think of Yan Li first.

"Uh..."

Feng Xiaoning suddenly realized: even if Yan Li was perfect, he didn't need money.

Even hundreds of thousands or even a million yuan per film wouldn't attract Yan Li...

Though "The Legend of Xue Rengui" had many scenes and plenty of martial action, Yan Li was a beast—endlessly energetic.

After daily filming, he'd rush to work, never neglecting either, yet still had time to ride horses and practice archery, or drag someone off to Dongyang city.

He even thought about revisiting the "dual soldiers on the wall" trope—but got scolded by Fan Xiaopang and Li Bingbing.

The "ice and snow horse Yan" duo of Li Bingbing and Li Xue was even less imaginable.

Yan Li had hinted once—almost got bitten by Li Bingbing; the next day, Li Xue was forcibly driven out of Hengdian by Li Bingbing.

With Li Xue gone and no one watching, Li Bingbing was free—and became the biggest winner.

No choice: she and Yan Li were on the same set, close at hand, with endless opportunities.

Next were Fan Xiaopang and Qin Lan.

Fan Xiaopang had more opportunities—she was more proactive; if Yan Li didn't seek her out, she'd seek him.

Wang Ou had it worse: Yan Li had no time, and she was watched by Qin Lan—if she made a move, Qin Lan would intercept.

Except for her birthday, even "drinking soup" was generous—she got to lick the bowl.

Of course, the worst off was Wu Jiani—Yan Li never once sought her out; she knew too many people watched him and dared not approach.

Wang Ou at least got to lick the bowl; she could only stare helplessly.

Hu Siyan was treated the same, but after she bonded with Qin Lan, Yan Li erased her name from consideration.

Oh, and there was Yang Rong, quietly observing.

Because she was close to Wang Ou, Yang Rong had more complete information and a deeper understanding of Yan Li.

While complaining about him being a fickle rake, she used her own observations to help Wang Ou strategize how to win his favor.

She meant no harm—just wanted to watch the drama, and help her good friend.

If Wang Ou succeeded, she'd get some benefits too.

After discussion, they felt Yan Li sometimes played favorites.

Emotion was one factor; status also mattered.

For example, Yan Li seemed more drawn to the "dual soldiers"—Fan Xiaopang aside, but between Li Bingbing and Wang Ou, Yan Li clearly favored the former.

This wasn't just because they were on the same set—it was also due to status, fame, and aura.

Li Bingbing had greater fame and was closer in status to Yan Li, so he naturally valued her more.

At the same time, the thrill and sense of conquest brought by this rising starlet is something Wang Ou, still a minor actress, could never match.

Even Fan Xiaopang's sudden rise likely has something to do with her celebrity aura— the more famous she becomes, the more Yan Li's vanity is satisfied, and the more he values and loves her.

"If you want your boss to value you more, focusing on your career is a good path—the more famous you become, the more he'll like you."

Yang Rong spoke at length, and Wang Ou nodded; these words aligned with some of her own earlier thoughts.

But then again, becoming famous isn't easy, and in the short term, she can't outshine Shuang Bing.

So she'd previously considered seductive allure and gentle, virtuous routes—both had some effect, but not as well as she'd hoped.

"It's normal."

Yang Rong understood—it wasn't Wang Ou's approach that was wrong, but the competition around her was too fierce.

Gentle and virtuous?

How many women around Yan Li aren't gentle and virtuous? Those trying to cling to his leg are all more understanding, more delicate and clinging than the last.

Seductive allure?

Yang Rong didn't know much about that, but she figured there were plenty of women willing to go all out.

She'd even overheard Li Bingbing and Yan Li having an intense exchange in the makeup room—this rising starlet played so openly, how could Wang Ou compete?

So Wang Ou must become famous!

Once she's famous, her aura multiplies—it's like having deep internal Qi; any move she makes becomes a killing strike.

Wang Ou thought it made sense, but she still felt anxious.

There was no way around it—Yan Li's circle of women kept growing, and the fighting seemed to intensify; she feared she'd be kicked out before she ever became famous.

Steady progress was fine, but couldn't she, just a little, try some unorthodox tactics?

Wang Ou subtly sized up Yang Rong a few times, then looked away.

Forget it—Yang Rong wasn't Wu Jiani; the latter hadn't resisted Yan Li at first, only held back slightly.

But Yang Rong had clearly expressed her distaste for Yan Li's promiscuity.

This sort of thing required mutual consent; since he treated Yang Rong as a friend, she couldn't betray his trust by dragging her into it.

Besides, there was still Wu Jiani.

That little girl had once insisted on fighting alone, only allied with her—but now that she'd experienced the reality of going it solo, Wang Ou wasn't sure how long she'd last.

Watching Wang Ou's agonized expression, Yang Rong couldn't help urging: "If it's too exhausting, why not just settle down as an artist?"

Under the current circumstances, Wang Ou has no chance of rising—better to plan ahead.

You can't spend your whole life as Yan Li's mistress, can you?

Wang Ou still has several quality dramas waiting to air; once they're broadcast and she gains fame, more roles will follow.

She doesn't need to leave Yi'an—just work steadily, stop obsessing over Yan Li. Given his nature, he'll likely remember old feelings and give her some consideration, and maybe Fan, Qin, and others, seeing she's sensible, will offer her some sweeteners to appease her.

When her contract expires and she leaves Yi'an, she won't be that old yet—her future will be wide open.

"You're right."

Wang Ou nodded; Yang Rong's plan made sense, but it overlooked one critical factor.

"Once a woman has been with a lion, how could she ever settle for a grazing sheep?"

Wang Ou didn't know what other women thought, but she had no intention of leaving Yan Li, nor any plan to find a man when she got older—she simply loved being conquered by a lion.

Especially this lion, who pulled her out of the "abyss" and had protected her ever since.

What's the point of marriage?

Her father and mother were married, yet they still divorced, abandoned their child—she, by staying with Yan Li, would have food, shelter, wealth, and luxury for life, and no one would dare mistreat her. What's wrong with that?

Yang Rong was stunned, and faintly realized that due to Wang Ou's childhood experiences, her values differed greatly from those of ordinary people.

"Uh…"

Just as she was bewildered, Wang Ou's phone rang; she answered, her eyes instantly brightening as she sweetly replied.

"Understood, I'm on my way."

Yang Rong asked: "Yan Li?"

"Yes, Boss Yan has an engagement and needs a female companion—he wants me to go."

"That doesn't sound right."

Yang Rong wasn't belittling Wang Ou, but she knew Wang Ou ranked low among Yan Li's women.

Fan Xiaopang was Yan Li's "public girlfriend"; if he needed a date, she should be first. Then there was Qin Lan, Li Bingbing—anyone else would come before Wang Ou.

Could this be some dirty setup, forcing Wang Ou to drink with clients?!

Wang Ou smiled: "Don't worry—he's extremely petty."

She'd been to banquets with Yan Li before; he'd rather break ties than let anyone humiliate her.

He called her because the others were unavailable.

After meeting Yan Li, the car headed straight for Shanghai. On the way, Wang Ou casually asked.

Sure enough—Fan Xiaopang had a night shoot today, her schedule couldn't be moved; Qin Lan was in her monthly cycle and couldn't come.

As for Li Bingbing, Yan Li didn't fully trust her… at least not as much as Wang Ou.

Though Yan Li seemed to favor Wang Ou less, in terms of trust, she ranked high among his women.

Only behind Dong and Qin, and even slightly ahead of Fan Xiaopang, whose relationship with him had recently surged.

After all, Wang Ou was one of his earliest women, someone he personally nurtured and supported—deep emotional ties, genuine admiration, and every aspect of her life remained under his control.

Yan Li had once imagined: if he ever went bankrupt or was imprisoned, the only women who might try to save him or stand by him—besides his mother—would likely be Dong and Qin.

As for Wang Ou, he wasn't certain, but he felt that as long as he didn't fall, she wouldn't betray him.

That level of loyalty was already highly trustworthy!

So for private matters like this, Wang Ou might not be his first or second choice, but she was absolutely a vital backup.

"There might be female guests tonight—just keep them company. Don't be too subservient, but don't be arrogant either."

Yan Li gave a few instructions, then examined Wang Ou's outfit, and pulled out two boxes containing diamond pendants and gemstone bracelets.

"They don't quite match your dress—try to buy two new outfits if you have time; if not, make do."

Yan Li fastened them on her, nodded in satisfaction; Wang Ou, overwhelmed, touched the pendant and bracelet.

"These must be expensive."

"Not bad—the bracelet's borrowed, the pendant costs over 400, 00."

"That expensive?!"

Wang Ou dared not touch them—her fame was low, her salary limited; this jewelry was far beyond her means.

Yan Li smiled: "After dinner, if you like the pendant, keep it."

Wang Ou's eyes lit up; she kissed him passionately—she adored these unexpected surprises from Yan Li.

Last birthday, he'd given her a 1000-gram gold ingot, still hidden in her hotel room, checked daily for fear of theft.

How little time had passed, and now he gifted a pendant worth tens of thousands.

All her resentment and bitterness vanished; she was already planning how to show off the pendant to Yang Rong, to let her see the lion's generosity.

…

Time was lost on the road; there was no chance to buy new clothes. Yan Li took Wang Ou directly to the destination—a private, upscale club.

Including Yan Li and the female companions, there were six or seven people at the dinner—old and young.

Wang Ou recognized one man—he'd been an investor in a previous drama—but what caught her eye more was a female star from Taiwan among the companions.

Though not especially famous, she'd had a brief moment of popularity and now drifted among second- and third-tier circles.

Wang Ou remembered she'd recently been linked to a rising young actor, only to become his mistress shortly after.

Though she herself was a mistress, seeing this woman's man—fat, bloated, at least fifty or sixty, balding—Wang Ou felt a sudden surge of satisfaction.

Then she noticed the pearl necklace around the woman's neck; Wang Ou subtly adjusted her diamond pendant.

She'd bet her life the woman's pearls were cheaper than hers.

Unaware of Wang Ou's gesture, Yan Li was chatting with the investors, then turned to business.

As Yan Li continued absorbing capital in the stock market, his cinema chain expansion was progressing, with some results.

"Gentlemen, I've secured a deal with China Resources—they're willing to grant us cinema space with ten years of rent-free occupancy. That saves us a fortune, especially in first-tier cities where rent is high and hard to get—I had to work extremely hard to land this."

Yan Li announced this major good news; several coal tycoons and investors exchanged glances.

"Rent-free? They're clearly after equity."

"Of course—they're not running a charity. They wouldn't let us open cinemas for free in their malls out of pure generosity."

"How much equity are they demanding?"

"22%."

Yan Li nodded, slightly pained: "They're huge—small deals don't interest them. But besides rent-free, they'll provide funding, and most importantly, they'll offer relevant resources and support."

Opening cinemas isn't just about picking a spot and installing screens—it involves countless details.

As one of China's giants, China Resources has strength and influence nationwide—they can assist with commercial real estate, protect the cinemas, and even resolve troubles.

Some equity is unavoidable!

At least China Resources is a state-owned enterprise; business dealings are transparent—there might be inconveniences, but it's safer.

Had Yan Li not exploited his system's advantages and gone through great effort, normal negotiations would've failed—China Resources might not have even accepted the offer.

Some of the investors were sharp—they raised their glasses: "Thank you, Boss Yan, for all your hard work."

"Don't mention it—I'm leading, so I must put in the effort."

Yan Li treated the investors with great courtesy; China Resources' entry brought many benefits, but it wasn't without risk.

Protection can turn into takeover—there have been cases where "protection" became full acquisition.

So Yan Li must also guard against the day he might be discarded after the mill has been turned.

Although his own shareholding percentage is not low, he still needs to court several major investors, getting them to stand on his side and fully secure absolute control over the cinema chain...

————

PS: A few hundred characters short; I'll finish it tomorrow.

(End of Chapter)