Chapter 234: One Battle, Instant Fame, Dual Rewards of Fame and Fortune

《Summer Blockbuster Opens, the "Crazy" Stone Receives Acclaim》

《Exclusive Interview with Ning Hao of "Crazy Stone": Unveiling the Genius Director's Journey》

《Mastering Black Humor, a Single Stone Stirs a Thousand Waves》

《Three-Day Box Office Reaches 14 Million Yuan; Yan Li Crafts the Year's Biggest Chinese-Language Film Dark Horse》

《"Stone Fever" Sweeps Universities Nationwide; Students Declare It the Best Comedy Film》

《Yi'an's Anti-Piracy Efforts Yield Results; Authorities Shut Down Over Ten Piracy Operations》

《...

As Yan Li had predicted, after the opening day's 3 million yuan box office, the next two days—coinciding with the weekend—brought another small surge.

The nearly 14 million yuan in three days drew widespread attention from industry insiders.

Earlier promotions and hype for "Crazy Stone" had indeed drawn attention to the film, and some had taken it seriously.

But no one expected "Crazy Stone" to perform so brilliantly.

As its title suggested, it truly carried a touch of madness.

The striking box office performance drew more and more people to discuss the film; most viewers who watched it gave positive reviews, and as word-of-mouth spread, the two forces combined to make "Crazy Stone" grow increasingly popular.

The film's promotional team even coined the slogan: "Watch football, then watch the Stone," piggybacking on the World Cup in Germany.

The ground promotion teams also seized the momentum, negotiating with theaters for better terms and launching offline promotions at local cinemas, malls, and schools.

Zhejiang Province, Hangzhou City

Liu Feng, Yi'an's Hangzhou representative, finished negotiating with the theater manager, then called a colleague to share the good news.

"We've secured the university district theater—tomorrow we get at least six additional shows, all in premium halls."

As mentioned earlier, due to factors like technological development and management models, many theaters retained strong autonomy over their internal scheduling.

Especially independent or franchise theaters, where the theater manager decided how much screen time each film received—even the theater chain's directives often held little weight.

Even in more strictly managed direct-operated chains, while some scheduling directives were issued, there was always some leeway left for theaters to adjust.

After all, both theater chains and individual theaters existed to make money.

If a blockbuster film failed to attract audiences in a particular city, why fight the market?

Theaters were the frontline directly facing audiences; they knew best which films drew crowds, which had high occupancy rates, and which drove the most ancillary spending.

Thus, theaters needed the flexibility to adjust—and could even feed data back to theater chains, helping them better understand the market and make broader adjustments.

Yan Li's original ground promotion strategy was precisely to establish direct contact with local theaters and secure the theater managers' scheduling authority.

If one theater added three more shows, a hundred theaters meant three hundred extra shows. At 30 to 50 viewers per show, with tickets averaging 25 yuan, that's 200, 00 to 300, 00 yuan in daily box office gains.

Not to mention, this is just a rough estimate—the actual effect could be even better.

Moreover, Yi'an's current ground promotion network extended far beyond a hundred theaters.

At the same time, stronger box office performance would trigger other theaters to follow suit—once one moved, all moved, and the winner took all.

Liu Feng's colleague replied: "Our events are going well too—attendance isn't as high as on weekends, but it's still far better than other films."

The entire Hangzhou city had only two official ground promotion staff: Liu Feng and his colleague.

Liu Feng handled the city-wide promotion plan and theater negotiations; his colleague focused primarily on offline promotion.

Of course, one person couldn't manage all the promotion work, so the colleague had several part-time college students under him—one or two assigned to each theater or promotion point, with the colleague or occasionally Liu Feng visiting each site to supervise.

"Excellent. Keep pushing—if you secure first place, the bonus won't be short."

Liu Feng encouraged his colleague; Yi'an, well-versed in film distribution, had long established a comprehensive performance incentive system.

The higher the box office in a city where ground promotion operated, the larger the bonus—and there were additional rewards for ranking among cities of comparable size; winning first place brought a separate bonus.

As the provincial capital of Zhejiang, Hangzhou was economically developed and inherently advantageous; Liu Feng had fought hard to secure this territory and couldn't afford to waste the opportunity.

Otherwise, if you failed, plenty of other cities' successful ground promoters would be eager to come to the capital and claim the performance rewards.

Moreover, since film ground promotion was still in its infancy, everyone reported directly to headquarters—but later, regional consolidation was inevitable.

Consolidation by province was unlikely; more probable was grouping by region: East China, Southwest, Northeast, or Jiangsu-Zhejiang-Shanghai, Guangdong-Guangxi-Fujian-Jiangxi, Sichuan-Chongqing-Guizhou-Yunnan, Heilongjiang-Jilin-Liaoning, etc.

No matter how it was structured, regional managers would be needed; no one wanted to stay stagnant—Liu Feng wanted advancement too.

He had little chance of directly becoming regional manager for Jiangsu-Zhejiang-Shanghai or East China; the Shanghai manager was far more likely to get promoted.

But if that manager moved up, the Shanghai position would open—and Liu Feng had his eyes fixed on that role.

No matter how good Hangzhou was, it couldn't match Shanghai, the nation's economic center; if Liu Feng moved to Shanghai, his salary, bonuses, and future prospects would all skyrocket.

So Liu Feng was going all out, determined to crush rivals like Suzhou and Nanjing.

After ending the call with his colleague, Liu Feng contacted the company again, strongly requesting that the "Crazy Stone" crew come to Hangzhou for a roadshow—it would greatly boost offline promotion and theater negotiations.

The company gave no firm answer, only saying they were coordinating.

After all, many cities wanted the creative team for roadshows, and since the early phase was the peak box office period, roadshow effectiveness was highest—everyone was fighting for scheduling slots.

Liu Feng argued with the company for a while, then prepared to have lunch before heading out to visit more theaters in the afternoon.

But he hadn't even sat down when he received a call from headquarters: "According to reports, XX Theater is suspected of ticket fraud—likely methods include… You may proceed with inquiries."

Liu Feng was startled, then clenched his teeth.

Fuck, I've worked my ass off for this box office, and now someone's stealing tickets right under my nose—what a heartless bastard.

Ticket fraud was common in this era, primarily carried out by theaters or their staff.

Since most movie tickets were still sold offline, theaters had ample room to manipulate.

Handwritten tickets, invalid tickets, fake refunds, dual accounting, bundled sales—there were countless tricks.

If they sold 1 million yuan worth of tickets, they'd only report 900, 00 yuan; the remaining 100, 00 yuan would be pocketed—no revenue sharing, no taxes.

So distributing films in this era was truly difficult—everywhere was a trap, and everyone wanted a bite.

Upon receiving the tip, Liu Feng immediately went to confront the theater.

The theater naturally denied everything, at most blaming technical glitches or temporary workers.

Liu Feng pressed hard, citing the intelligence he'd received, and eventually forced the theater to concede—returning the stolen box office revenue and increasing "Crazy Stone"'s showings.

That was enough.

Yi'an wasn't trying to cleanse the entire industry—it aimed solely to protect box office revenue, deterrence, and to stop such behavior.

But if a theater repeatedly defied warnings, especially independent theaters or small chains, then Yi'an would expose them publicly—make an example of them to scare others.

In TV drama distribution, TV stations held the strongest power, yet Yan Li never bowed to them.

And in film distribution, it was a three-way power struggle, each side with its own leverage—besides, Yan Li himself had come from the theater chain side.

If distributors and producers caused trouble, they might unite theater chains against them—but internal theater chain conflicts were a different matter entirely.

You stir the pot, I'll form alliances; if necessary, we'll clash and see who's stronger.

Yan Li didn't seek conflict, but he wasn't afraid of it.

Some needed to be united and asked to make concessions; others had to be crushed—or swallowed whole. If you feared offending people, don't go into business…

…

Liu Feng in Hangzhou was merely one example among Yi'an's ground promotion team.

Across dozens of first- and second-tier cities nationwide, there were many more like Liu Feng, each day fighting to secure showtimes, promote the film, and stop ticket fraud.

They used every possible means to push "Crazy Stone"'s box office higher and higher.

And "Crazy Stone" did not disappoint—it kept climbing.

15 million, 18 million, 20 million… ultimately, its first-week box office exceeded 23 million yuan.

This figure had become the biggest dark horse of the summer season—and indeed of the entire 2006 film market.

Moreover, due to its strong word-of-mouth, the film had tremendous staying power.

Many industry insiders predicted its final box office would surpass 50 million yuan, possibly even higher.

Director Ning Hao, already heavily promoted by Yi'an, was now lauded to the skies—and Yan Li received considerable praise as well.

That year, Yan Li entered the film and television industry with "Conquest," a low-budget hit that earned him tens of millions and launched his entrepreneurial journey.

Now, entering film with another low-budget triumph, "Crazy Stone," he delivered a dazzling opening—no wonder he was called a business genius.

Many reporters wanted to interview Yan Li, but all were refused—not because he was aloof, but because he simply had no time.

The spectacular box office success attracted countless flies; beneath the public triumph of "Crazy Stone," Yan Li's war against pirates had entered its most intense phase.

In a private QQ group, several underground pirates were fiercely debating.

Yes, pirates had connections—they were colleagues, some bitter rivals who reported each other, others close partners.

They'd form QQ groups to discuss which films, TV dramas, or albums were selling well, so others could follow suit, or to coordinate cross-distribution and resale.

【Damn, another one got caught in Hunan—guys, count up, how many have we lost now?】

【Close to twenty, maybe more—almost every day someone gets arrested】

【Rumors again? You believe the news?】

【Some are official police announcements—with interviews and photos. Even if exaggerated, can it all be fake?】

【Better believe it than ignore it—Old Zhang was bragging just two days ago, where is he now?】

【Maybe he didn't get caught—maybe he's just busy and offline】

【Haha, I don't know if Old Zhang got caught, but Fatty definitely did—I live nearby, went to check, and heard the whole thing: every last person was arrested, production lines and stock seized—no way out for three to five years】

【This Yan Li's got a dog's nose—last year or the year before, maybe one or two got caught. Now, in less than half a month, at least ten gangs are in jail】

【Is there a traitor?】

【Exactly—so many pirates trade and distribute with each other, someone's bound to slip up. We've always had informants reporting rivals—I suspect someone's using this to clear competitors and seize territory】

【That's unlikely—if it gets too big, everyone suffers. If exposed, it'd spark outrage. I think it's probably someone well-informed who wants to retire and sell this info for one last payout】

【Fuck, both possibilities are real—don't let me find out who it is, or I'll kill them】

【Who cares how the leak happened—what do we do now?】

What else can we do? Take him down, boys—band together and go after this Yan guy, see how he handles it.

You're tough, go ahead and try—did you forget this business is illegal? Even making quiet money requires caution. You're practically jumping out to get caught, don't you think you're dying too slow?

It's just one movie, not worth fighting to the death over.

That's right—movies are selling best right now. If I were Yan, I'd crush anyone who pirated it. Once the movie leaves theaters, he'll probably lose interest anyway, and we can still make money—just less of it.

The crackdown's too harsh—my wife and kids can't do without me. I give up. I'm out this time.

Money's endless; no need to charge into the wind. I'll shut down my machines and lie low for a while.

A bunch of cowards. Piracy? So what? I want to see what this Yan guy can do to me.

…Wait, how did this guy go offline?

Probably went to work. Honestly, no need to get angry. If the opponent's strong, pick the soft targets.

He was just bragging—why'd he suddenly log off? Could he have been arrested?

【…】

Somewhere, a residential home

Several young men in floral shirts huddled in a corner, handcuffed; one greasy-haired youth crouched, pointing at a computer screen showing a QQ group.

"Uncle Officer, everyone in this group is into piracy—go investigate them, you'll catch a few. Does this count as me helping the authorities?"

The officer glanced at him and smiled: "Didn't you say, 'What can Yan do to me?' Now you know what he can do, right?"

The greasy-haired youth grinned sheepishly: "Yes, yes, yes—I was overconfident. I'll be a good man from now on."

The officer shook his head and told his subordinate: "Report this QQ group to headquarters."

On July 6, 2006, led by the propaganda department and joined by multiple agencies, a special operation was launched against piracy and related crimes.

The enthusiastic citizen Mr. Yan actively cooperated with the operation, providing multiple credible leads.

After meticulous preparation, the task force launched a thunderous strike, dismantling over twenty piracy production and sales dens across provinces and cities within days, seizing nearly thirty production lines and confiscating hundreds of thousands of pirated discs.

Add to that the piracy dens previously uncovered by individual provinces and cities, along with the pirated websites taken down in passing.

This year's "Sweep Pornography and Crackdown on Piracy" campaign has been remarkably successful, severely crushing the arrogance of pirates and safeguarding the integrity of the cultural market.

【…】

Bona Company

Yu Pangzi stared blankly at the newspaper report, then called Han Sanye.

"Sanye, cracking down on piracy caused this big a stir? Is this kid really someone's secret son?"

"Don't believe rumors."

Han Sanye dismissed the gossip, then sighed: "I just found out—it's not Yan Li using the Sweep Pornography and Crackdown on Piracy office. It's the Sweep Pornography and Crackdown on Piracy office riding on Yan Li's coattails."

"You have no idea how powerful this kid is."

Han Sanye had been holding it in—he began gossiping about what he'd just learned.

Yan Li provided the task force with leads of extremely high accuracy. Naturally, they grew curious about his sources. Yan Li gave them a small demonstration of his "intelligence analysis ability."

As an office tasked with sweeping pornography and cracking down on piracy, they received countless tips—but most were a mix of truth and falsehood, difficult to verify.

Yan Li took a portion of the tips, and within two days, helped the office uncover multiple genuine leads.

"The head of the relevant X department even wanted to poach him—but no offer could match what Yan Li already had. The X department chief was genuinely disappointed."

Han Sanye had learned something new this time.

No wonder Yan Li rose so fast—he's truly extraordinary.

In business, you need vision, instinct, judgment, and analytical ability.

Yan Li excels in these areas. He can crack down on piracy—and apply the same skills to clients and projects.

That's why he's a natural salesperson—he quickly became the King of Movie Sales, with uncanny precision, betting right on dark horses like The Conqueror and Crazy Stone.

Add to that his other outstanding qualities, and his growth has been rapid.

Han Sanye connected all the dots—his admiration for Yan Li rose sharply.

What a fine young man—just a bit of a playboy. Otherwise, I'd seriously consider him as a son-in-law.

Even Han Sanye felt he couldn't compete. Yan Li, a young talent like this, if he were even slightly more grounded and showed interest in marrying up, plenty of families would line up to offer their daughters.

Many upper-class families or individuals aren't short on money or power—they're short on capable descendants.

Unworthy heirs are the beginning of a family's decline.

If your son can't carry the family, a son-in-law can become a pillar. Even if your son is reliable, having a capable brother-in-law or brother-in-law's support is still beneficial.

So throughout history, no matter how many cases of "phoenix sons" turned traitor, good sons-in-law remain in high demand—because the need is great.

After all, compared to the relatively rare cases of betrayal by phoenix sons, the far more common tragedy is having no successor at all—being completely swallowed up by outsiders…

Yu Pangzi didn't care about Han Sanye's complex emotions. When he learned Yan Li had truly crushed these pirates, he wanted to call Yan Li "Dad."

Isn't he Dad?!

With the crackdown this tight, piracy's impact on The Dragon and Tiger Gate's box office at month-end will plummet.

Even a 10%—or even a single-digit—box office increase means millions.

"Famous overnight, famous overnight."

Yu Pangzi kept marveling—this time, with Crazy Stone, Yan Li had truly become famous overnight.

The film's success goes without saying; Yan Li and Yi An stole the spotlight.

Within the industry, Yan Li's success in cracking down on piracy carried even greater weight than the film itself.

Everyone had long suffered under piracy but could do nothing about it. Yan Li's effective countermeasures were his unique advantage.

After being hit so hard this time, pirates will think twice before pirating Yan Li's next movie.

Even if some daredevil still shows up, Yan Li didn't win by luck—he won by ability. He can crush them once, he can crush them again.

Not to mention he's now connected with the Sweep Pornography and Crackdown on Piracy office—he handed them a victory. Why wouldn't they cooperate?

Large-scale special operations might be rare, but smaller ones? Always possible. Who dares gamble they won't be the chicken chosen to scare the monkeys?

If Yan Li can firmly suppress these pirates, making them avoid him like the plague…

"Hmm."

Yu Pangzi, a veteran distributor, understood perfectly how much room for maneuver this created.

"Sanye, I found a great restaurant recently. My treat—let's get together with Director Yan."

Han Sanye agreed.

China Film Group also had no solution to piracy and shared Yan Li's need for cooperation.

Moreover, Yan Li's demonstrated potential and ability made Han Sanye value and favor him even more.

There are too few talents in mainland cinema who can stand alone. He was willing to support Huayi, Bona, and Starlight—and now he was willing to support Yan Li and Yi An, to counter Hong Kong and Taiwan, to resist Hollywood.

It wasn't just Bona and Han Sanye seeking Yan Li—Huayi's Wang brothers called even faster.

"Director Yan, about that misunderstanding earlier—we've thought it over and feel deeply apologetic. We've set up a banquet to apologize—please do us the honor of attending."

Listening to the voice on the phone, Yan Li smiled. Apology? Bullshit—he wasn't a fool.

In September, The Banquet and Baby Plan were coming out—both films had Huayi's investment and were under their distribution.

Yi An's ground promotion and piracy-cracking abilities were things Huayi couldn't match.

To make money, the Wang brothers naturally wanted to make peace and cooperate for mutual gain.

"I'll check my schedule."

Yan Li planned to go—honestly, these two films had some profit potential, but not much.

After all, Huayi's distribution capability was already solid—they just wanted Yan Li to add a little extra shine.

Ground promotion and piracy-cracking would help box office, but how much? Hard to measure.

Yan Li couldn't just say "I'll boost it by X%" and expect Huayi to believe him. If he asked too high, Huayi would rather do it themselves.

So Huayi's distribution share for Yan Li wouldn't be high—likely limited to mainland box office revenue only, excluding other distribution income.

Compared to producers and theater chains, distributors' shares are already low—usually 5% to 15%.

Yi An could only claim part of that distribution share—even if the film grossed over a hundred million, it'd be just a few million.

Those few million had to cover Yan Li's time, ground promotion costs, taxes, and other miscellaneous expenses—what remained in his pocket was barely hard-earned wages.

Yan Li was going not for the money, but for the advertising, experience, networking, and other benefits.

To catch fish, you need bait.

Waiting for business to come to you won't work.

The Banquet and Baby Plan were both solid projects. Getting involved would train his distribution team, raise his industry profile, and maybe even poach talent from Huayi.

Feng Xiaogang, Cheng Long, and even non-mainland film investors who partnered with Huayi.

Yan Li wanted them to know: mainland China isn't just about Huayi.

【…】

The backstabbing among film companies was unknown to outsiders.

Even the credit for cracking down on piracy—industry insiders knew the truth, but publicly, Yan Li gave all credit to the Sweep Pornography and Crackdown on Piracy office.

Some spotlight wasn't worth taking!

Highlighting your own brilliance—how would the relevant agencies feel? The connections you just made might turn into enemies.

Also, from the public's perspective, cracking down on piracy wasn't popular—people preferred cheap pirated copies. Fighting piracy felt like spoiling entertainment.

State agencies doing this? Fine—it's fighting crime. But a private businessman being so eager? He's just "had too much to eat."

Though he gave up some spotlight, some glory no one could take from him.

After earning over 23 million in its first week, Crazy Stone's second week saw slower decline thanks to further word-of-mouth, herd behavior, and the strict anti-piracy campaign—ultimately grossing over 17 million.

Combined, Crazy Stone's two-week box office exceeded 40 million.

As of now, it ranks eighth on the 2006 annual box office chart and second among Chinese-language films.

However, with the box office surge of the first two weeks over, Crazy Stone's box office trend will inevitably keep declining, especially as new films are coming out.

New films have already arrived—Hollywood's imported blockbuster Superman Returns premiered just two days ago and performed well.

Another Hollywood blockbuster, Mission: Impossible III, is set to release in late July, and Dragon Tiger Gate at month's end will also impact Crazy Stone's subsequent box office.

Fortunately, these films differ in genre from Crazy Stone, leaving it some breathing room.

According to industry insiders' rough estimates, Crazy Stone's total mainland box office of 50 million RMB is hardly a problem; 55 million is not out of reach.

Whether it can reach 60 million is uncertain—it depends on fortune.

Regardless of how far it goes, a box office of at least 50 million has earned Crazy Stone and its team overwhelming praise.

Undoubtedly, the film's greatest contributor is director Ning Hao, but the one who made the most money is definitely Yan Li.

One media outlet did the math: if the box office reaches 55 million, the producers and distributors' share will be at least 20 million RMB.

This is only the mainland box office revenue.

Yi'an has already begun cooperating with Hong Kong and Taiwan to arrange Crazy Stone's release there—another source of income.

Meanwhile, the DVD rights for such a hit film command a high price, especially now that piracy is being heavily cracked down on; prices will surely rise.

Add in other miscellaneous revenues like TV rights, and Yan Li can expect at least 30 million RMB from this film alone.

Even after deducting costs, taxes, and expenses, Yan Li can net roughly 15 to 20 million RMB.

Beyond financial gains, Yan Li and Yi'an have gained massive visibility this summer, signed the crucial talent Ning Hao, and secured various hidden benefits.

Fame and fortune, both reputation and substance, fully secured!

Yan Li has vaguely sensed the power of the film industry—its attention is truly immense.

He had previously handled TV projects that earned more than this film, but none had anywhere near the impact of Crazy Stone.

This may be due to the tangible box office numbers and the short-term, high-intensity promotion.

TV dramas usually gain popularity through actors and plot, and audiences rarely pay attention to behind-the-scenes figures.

Films, however, carry entertainment, economic, and social elements, often breaking out across all spheres, giving the behind-the-scenes team substantial exposure.

Yan Li still enjoys stepping into the spotlight—partly out of vanity, partly because it benefits his business.

The louder his reputation as a business genius, the more people will seek to collaborate with Yan Li—even bringing money to him. That's the power of fame and persona.

…

"Director Yan, good. Look this way. Yes, look more cold and stoic."

In a studio in Jingcheng, a photographer frantically snapped pictures of Yan Li in a sharp suit.

After shooting for a while, they finally finished. Yan Li changed clothes and bid farewell to the organizer.

This was an official Jingcheng campaign—a selection event for social elites under 35—and Yan Li was one of the chosen, having just completed an interview; the previous photos were promotional shots.

As always, the award and title don't matter—it's the fact that he was selected that counts.

Yan Li operates in Jingcheng; the authorities are willing to promote him, and he's happy to cooperate—mutual benefit, win-win.

"Where to next?"

After getting in the car, Yan Li asked his assistant Ding Feng about the schedule. The spotlight doesn't come free—these days, Yan Li is busier than ever.

Not just company work, but countless events, meetings, and social obligations.

Originally, after the World Cup ended and Italy won, Yan Li planned to go to Hong Kong himself—but he had to send a trusted aide instead.

Fortunately, everything went smoothly; 50 million HKD now sits safely in Yan Li's Hong Kong account.

Damn it!

Though Yan Li has complained about it more than once, every time he thinks of it, he can't help grumbling.

Crazy Stone required massive effort and months of work, yet earned less than 20 million RMB.

Betting on the World Cup? Aside from finding a safe, reliable channel—which took a little effort—he didn't have to lift a finger. Just watched a few matches, and 50 million HKD landed in his lap.

"…"

Shaking his head, muttering "gamblers never die well," Yan Li snapped back to attention and listened to Ding Feng's schedule report.

"At two this afternoon, there's a charity event to support mountain village children…"

Once you've made money—especially when everyone knows you've made money—you're expected to give something back.

Especially for companies and industries like Yan Li's, which rely on public goodwill, such activities are unavoidable.

Yan Li himself isn't particularly enthusiastic about charity, but he doesn't resist it—spend a little money, consider it good karma and a purchase of reputation.

He can be a jerk, but he can't be a monster.

Yan Li slacks off on moral image-building, so he must strengthen other positive images to make the public believe that though he's flirtatious, promiscuous, and keeps multiple women on the side, he's still a good guy at heart.

"Check which artists are currently in Jingcheng and call them all to join."

Yan Li needs charity to build a positive image; the artists need it even more.

Since he's spending money anyway, it's wasteful to go alone—bring the artists along to get some face time.

This isn't Yan Li taking advantage—the artists' participation in charity isn't just about donating; the key is promotion and momentum. Their presence boosts the event's visibility.

If absolutely necessary, he'll just donate more himself—charge it to the artists' accounts.

Yi'an now has plenty of resources, but the artists each have their own schedules; few are staying long in Jingcheng or have free time.

After calling around, only Ning Hao—the director who just finished his roadshow—was available.

He didn't come alone—he brought Huang Bao; the two are close friends.

Yan Li looked at Huang Bao, his eyes slightly brightening, remembering the monthly intelligence triggered after the premiere.

【Monthly Intelligence x: In 2009, Huang Bao's career soars—he becomes the lead in a billion-RMB film and wins the Golden Horse Award for Best Actor…】

Yan Li never expected his ugly, unassuming junior brother to be a hidden gem…

(End of Chapter)