Chapter 237: Sassy Chicken Phoenix Sisters, Bei Dian Alumni Association, Aura
"Cheers!"
In a private room at a restaurant, Qin Lan, Huosiyan, Li Xiao, Ma Yili, Liu Yun, and others from the Teddy Sisters group gathered to celebrate their successful debut.
Among them, Huosiyan was the most excited.
She cut ties with the Seven Fairies, introduced the Teddy Sisters group, and instantly connected with over a dozen actresses—she stole the spotlight.
Don't be fooled by the fact that Huosiyan has now fallen out with the Seven Fairies.
But falling out doesn't mean the Seven Fairies no longer exist; it just means that, compared to their former sisterly bond, her future interactions with the other Fairies will mostly revolve around conflict, grudges, and competition.
Perhaps she's less proactive now, and there's plenty of controversy, but it's still exposure.
In fact, whenever the Seven Fairies are mentioned, you can't avoid Huosiyan anymore.
Because she's the female lead of "Happy Ever After: The Seven Fairies," she's fallen out with the Seven Fairies, and she's been jointly ostracized by the other Fairies—in all news and discussions about the Seven Fairies, she is the true "top streamer."
The Seven Fairies can't escape her, and the Teddy Sisters group has now officially appeared—she has her place in it.
Just by riding the coattails of these "good sisters" and their traffic, Huosiyan will never lack exposure again.
Most importantly, this scandal has greatly boosted her fame, even briefly making her the center of the entertainment circle—a huge satisfaction for Huosiyan, whose vanity is immense.
Qin Lan was also very happy.
At the premiere of "Crazy Stone" last time, she brought along many people to show support.
But the effect of flexing her muscles wasn't great, and the attention it drew wasn't particularly significant.
This time, the Teddy Sisters group officially formed, with a shared name and collective action, creating considerable momentum; coupled with the clash with the Seven Fairies over Huosiyan's incident and the association with a hot topic, their fame exploded overnight.
I bet those two women can't sleep now!
Hu and Qin were the happiest; the others were in good spirits too, including Li Xiao and Ma Yili, who had previously been half-hearted.
Although this forced them to pick a side and possibly offend some people, it's undeniable that the Teddy Sisters group's exposure gave them some visibility and showed them the benefits of sticking together.
When one is in trouble, all others lend a hand.
If it weren't for Qin Lan rallying the Teddy Sisters group to support her, Huosiyan would've been reduced to universal loathing.
Ma Yili, being mature and cautious, still had some reservations, understanding that such a group had both advantages and drawbacks.
If someone thrives and gains a good reputation, others benefit by association; but if one person becomes infamous, everyone else gets stained by the stink.
Li Xiao didn't think as much as Ma Yili did.
She loved fun, attention, and being in the spotlight; she was bold, and now that she'd tasted the sweetness and power of the Teddy Sisters group, her sense of belonging soared—unlike before, when she'd just gone along with it half-heartedly.
She even began actively correcting everyone's address, insisting they call her "Third Sister," "Fourth Sister," etc., according to seniority, to strengthen internal cohesion.
The remaining Xiong Naijin, Liu Yun, and Zhao Ke, though they only played minor roles this time, still gained some screen time and exposure.
More importantly, now everyone knows they're part of the Teddy Sisters group; should any conflict arise in the future, opponents will think twice before acting, knowing they have backing.
In short, joining the Teddy Sisters group gave these minor actresses an organization and a backer.
Even if the senior members don't offer resources, just using this name alone can help them immensely.
Aside from Liu Yun, Qin Lan's close friend, Xiong Naijin and Zhao Ke had privately thanked their luck more than once.
Right now, countless minor actresses like them want to join the Teddy Sisters group but have no chance—not just minor actresses, even some famous ones want to band together for mutual support.
Today's gathering was not only for celebration but also to discuss "recruitment."
Almost every member present had friends or sisters who had reached out.
"Sis, what should we do?"
Ma Yili's joining made Qin Lan shift from "Big Sister" to "Second Sister," but everyone knew who the true Big Sister was.
Everyone else called each other by rank—Third Sister, Fourth Sister—but Qin Lan was rarely called "Second Sister"; everyone called her "Sis" or "Lan Jie."
"We can recruit, but as always, we must be strict."
Qin Lan paused: "The Teddy Sisters group is about sisters—people who get along, who truly connect. We can't just chase numbers."
Ma Yili agreed: "Exactly. The more people, the more uneven the quality, the more likely trouble will arise and drag others down."
Though she'd only joined recently, she was still the Big Sister, and her fame was substantial—so her words carried weight.
Liu Yun also voted in favor: "Fewer people, tighter unity; more people, more chaos. If a few have conflicts, they can always be resolved, but with too many, factions form, and it ends up ugly."
In seniority, Liu Yun was second to last, just above Zhao Ke.
But she had a close personal relationship with Qin Lan and held considerable internal standing; her words even carried a hint of implication.
As for faction-building, Huosiyan was the de facto leader of the Teddy Sisters group—Li Xiao, Xiong Naijin, and Zhao Ke were all brought in by her and were close to her.
Qin Lan had brought in Liu Yun and Ma Yili partly to balance things out.
Ma Yili was new and always smooth; her stance was still unclear. Liu Yun, on the other hand, clearly disliked Huosiyan—the two had exchanged plenty of barbs.
But since Liu Yun only targeted Huosiyan, and had Qin Lan behind her, Li, Xiong, and Zhao pretended not to notice—or mostly acted as mediators to calm things down.
Qin, Ma, and Liu opposed large-scale recruitment; Xiong Naijin and Zhao Ke, being low-ranking, had no say.
This disappointed Huosiyan and Li Xiao, who wanted to grow the group.
They longed to recruit a hundred or so actresses, parade around with entourages, gang up on anyone they disliked, and dominate the entertainment circle—that's true glory.
But there was no way around it: Qin Lan was the final authority in the group.
Even though Huosiyan had many followers, if Qin Lan gave the word, several would defect—including Huosiyan herself, who dared not easily defy Qin Lan.
But she soon came to terms with it.
Not recruiting en masse doesn't mean not recruiting at all—over a dozen actresses was still a formidable force.
And the higher the entry threshold, the more valuable the Teddy Sisters brand became; as the de facto leader, she'd grow even more powerful, and everyone wanting to join would have to flatter her.
"Sis is right, but many friends are begging to join—we can't just turn them all down."
"How about this: each of us gets one nomination. We can slowly get to know them—if everyone else agrees, we can prioritize them."
Huosiyan still left a loophole: everyone had one priority recommendation right.
This suited everyone's interests; after some discussion, they collectively approved it.
After eating, the Teddy Sisters took a group photo—this was their usual routine, but it was the first time all seven were together.
"Post this on your blogs when you get back—post together, then interact and chat, let them see how united we are."
Li Xiao loved this kind of lively, attention-grabbing activity—she was even more enthusiastic than Huosiyan, endlessly reminding the group members.
…
A certain apartment
Wang Ou sent screenshots of Huosiyan and others' blogs to a QQ group, messaging Yang Rong and Wu Jiani inside.
【Look at the momentum Qin Lan and Huosiyan are building—damn, their influence is growing bigger and bigger】
Wang Ou had personally witnessed and experienced how Qin and Huosiyan grew close and founded the Teddy Sisters group.
To some extent, she was even one of its promoters.
If it weren't for her, Qin and Huosiyan might never have become so close, nor pulled in Zhao Ke from the same "Great Qing Palace" set.
Yang Rong: 【What's wrong? Are you jealous?】
Wang Ou: 【Of course I'm jealous—how impressive it is. Why don't we form our own little group too? Recruit people, grow big and strong.】
Wu Jiani: 【Sounds good, I support it.】
Yang Rong: 【Qin Lan is favored, Ma and Hu are popular, so people flock to them. But us three—who'd care?】
Wang Ou: 【Don't let their fame dim your spirit. Am I not favored? Am I not popular? Aren't you and Jiani doing fine too?】
As previously mentioned, Wang Ou's career was going well—she could now be called a rising star.
She might still lag slightly behind the newly famous Huosiyan and the long-established Li Xiao, but she hadn't fallen too far behind.
Yang Rong had starred in several hit dramas and already had some fame; Wu Jiani had appeared in "Lu Xiaofeng Legend" and "The Investiture of the Gods," shedding her obscurity—her visibility was at least higher than the three minor players in the Teddy Sisters group.
So together, the three of them couldn't match the Teddy Sisters group, but they weren't insignificant either.
Wu Jiani: 【Sis Ou is right. Even if we don't recruit soldiers or horses, forming a group creates some noise and exposure; at the very least, it lets others know we're not alone.】
Yang Rong: 【Jiani knows how to speak, unlike someone who makes it sound like a gang.】
Yang Rong liked to needle Wang Ou but treated Wu Jiani more politely.
One, Wu's personality was soft and respectful toward her; two, they weren't that close.
Besides, she didn't oppose the idea—their relationship was already strong, and they'd even started a business together; they were already banding together, now they were just formalizing it.
Wang Ou: 【Since we're all in agreement, shouldn't we pick a name? Like '___ Sisters Group'?】
Yang Rong: 【We're only three—we can't call it a group, just flowers. You started it, so use your nickname: 'Sassy Chicken Sisters.'】
Wang Ou: 【You're the sassy chicken, you're the sassy chicken Rong! Say that again and I'll flip out.】
Wu Jiani: 【(smirking)】
Wu Jiani: 【How about using the dance studio's name? Phoenix—Phoenix Sisters.】
Wang Ou: 【That's better! Much nicer than 'Teddy.' And it promotes our dance studio too.】
Yang Rong: 【From Sassy Chicken to Phoenix—Little Ou, you've got big ambitions. Afraid of getting punished?】
Wang Ou: 【Enough nonsense. This name was chosen by Yan Li—it symbolizes the phoenix rising from ashes, meaning hard study and training lead to success. Phoenix stands for success and elegance, and there's even the phrase 'dragon flying, phoenix dancing'—perfect for our dance studio's vibe.】
Wu Jiani: 【And we're all women—the phoenix represents us too.】
With Yan Li's support and Wang Ou's drive, the dance studio project was officially launched.
Yan Li funded it, opening a dance studio for Wang Ou and Wu Jiani—any losses were his, any profits theirs.
Later, Wang Ou convinced Yang Rong to invest as well; total initial investment was 1. million yuan, with Wang Ou and Wu Jiani each holding 40%, Yang Rong 20%.
Wu Jiani managed the studio's operations—first because Wang Ou didn't have time, second because the studio was opened for her.
When Wu Jiani learned the truth from Wang Ou, she was deeply moved.
Opening a dance studio had been one of her lifelong dreams—perhaps even greater than becoming an actress.
And she'd never even told Wang Ou about it; she'd only mentioned in passing to Yan Li that she wanted to become a dance teacher someday—never imagining he'd remembered.
She had once harbored some resentment over Yan Li's coldness, but now it vanished entirely, and she even took the initiative to seek Yan Li's "advice" regarding the dance studio.
If Wang Ou hadn't been on a business trip just then, Yan Li could have taken on the two Xuan Yuan demons alone.
But given the current situation, there's no need to rush.
Wu Jiani placed great importance on the dance studio; according to Wang Ou, her attitude toward Yan Li was dripping with honey. Once the right opportunity arose, everything would fall into place naturally.
Yang Rong, however, seemed to be avoiding Yan Li lately, though she still answered his calls regularly.
Wang Ou seized the chance to urge Yang Rong to come to Beijing and visit her.
Yang Rong didn't say yes or no—she merely said she'd have to see how her schedule looked.
…
Wang Ou was merely watching for entertainment and joining the buzz; she didn't feel deeply connected to the Teddy Sisters Group.
Dong Xuan, on the other hand, was under considerable pressure.
Originally, she and Qin Lan were both "newbies," but suddenly Qin Lan had formed the Teddy Sisters Group and successfully rallied support.
Realizing she had suddenly become the lagging party, Dong Xuan spent these past few days strengthening ties with Jiang Xin and Yang Xue, then consulted Guan Yue for solutions.
But she hadn't yet come up with any good ideas.
One reason was that she had started late—following in their footsteps would mean merely recycling others' ideas, which she refused to do.
Another was that while she wasn't short on connections, she lacked suitable talent.
Indeed, only when seriously considering forming a group did Dong Xuan realize how vital someone like Hu Siyan was—someone skilled at building factions.
Without such a person weaving connections, organizing events, and continuously boosting cohesion, a sisters' group would be nothing but an empty shell, likely dissolving soon after forming.
Thus, while Qin Lan was the core of the Teddy Sisters Group, Hu Siyan was its soul—and now a third, the lively Li Xiao, had joined.
Alone, Qin Lan could gather people, but couldn't hold them together.
Dong Xuan was the same—she had neither the will nor the ability to spend every day studying the group's meals, entertainment, and exchanges. Guan Yue was the same, and her lesser fame couldn't command respect.
So copying Qin Lan's approach was unlikely to work; even if forcibly attempted, it would struggle to match the Teddy Sisters Group.
Dong Xuan had been so troubled she couldn't sleep, until Yan Li, unable to watch any longer, offered a suggestion.
"You're a teacher at Beidian—why are you obsessed with gathering sisters? Leverage your school's network and start an alumni association. The cohesion may be weak, but the numbers will be large."
"If you think the alumni group is too scattered, pick a few suitable people within it and privately form a subgroup—say, the Class of '05 or the Beidian Circle."
"That's far better than wandering the streets searching for people. And given Beidian's nature, you'll continuously absorb new members—perhaps in a few years, you'll become the leader of the Beidian faction."
Dong Xuan's eyes lit up at Yan Li's words—yes, she'd been led astray by Qin Lan and forgotten her greatest advantage.
Qin Lan, an outsider, could only rely on other outsiders like Hu Siyan and Li Xiao to recruit people.
But she could go straight to the source—using Beidian as a hub to build a vast network of Beidian-affiliated connections.
It's undeniable that Beidian had produced too many artists and stars—even the Teddy Sisters Group's Xiong Naijin and Zhao Ke were Beidian alumni.
But…
Dong Xuan looked at Yan Li, puzzled: "Why are you giving me advice now?"
Of course I'm afraid you'll lose!
Yan Li needed to maintain balance among them—if one side grew too powerful, their ambitions would swell, and he'd lose his leverage. So he had to intervene, keeping their sense of crisis alive so he could play both sides and profit from their rivalry.
He pulled Dong Xuan close and kissed her soft forehead, speaking gently.
"I'm afraid you'll be bullied—whose advice would I give if not yours?"
"Heh."
Dong Xuan wasn't fooled: "If you're afraid I'll be bullied, just crush her. Why should I bother myself?"
"…"
These women were getting harder and harder to fool.
Dong Xuan didn't let him off the hook, staring at him suspiciously: "Was the sisters' group your idea all along?"
"No, it wasn't."
Yan Li protested—officially, the Teddy Sisters Group had nothing to do with him.
But behind the scenes, his subtle encouragement and protection were indispensable.
For one thing, without Yan Li's presence, Hu Siyan wouldn't have been so well-behaved; for another, Qin Lan's maneuvers within the group had received Yan Li's guidance.
His reason for helping Qin Lan was the same as now helping Dong Xuan: Qin Lan was too weak—he couldn't stand by without tilting the balance.
"Dog man."
Dong Xuan wasn't sure whether to believe him, but she knew he was the root cause of her feud with Qin Lan.
Just as Yan Li was about to use his famed persuasion skills to soothe Dong Xuan's resentment, she shoved him away and called Guan Yue with renewed determination to discuss the alumni association.
To be fair, her rivalry with Qin Lan stemmed mainly from Yan Li, though other factors existed too.
For instance, one was a "housewife," the other a university teacher—both led rather dull, monotonous lives.
Having a bitter rival to feud with made life less boring.
…
The Teddy Sisters Group had spurred some action from Wang Ou, Dong Xuan, and others.
Only Fan Xiaopang had ignored it entirely, continuing as usual.
In tandem with the promotional campaign for "The Mermaid," she shot ads, posed for magazines, gave interviews, and recorded albums—as if the Teddy Sisters Group didn't exist.
In truth, she genuinely didn't care. In her own words—
"Rustic chickens and broken dogs—pathetic!"
Honestly, this woman was growing more popular and more arrogant by the day; Yan Li was even starting to worry about Qin Lan and Dong Xuan.
If things ever came to a head, even tilting the balance wouldn't stop Fan Xiaopang's dominance.
Yan Li wondered whether he should personally intervene and broker an alliance between Qin and Dong—would they even give him the courtesy?
————
By August, "Crazy Stone" had not yet left theaters, but its box office had dwindled to just tens of thousands—or even a few thousand—per day.
At this point, "Crazy Stone"'s total box office had reached nearly 55 million RMB.
60 million was out of the question; if it withdrew mid-month, it might reach 56 million or more.
Hong Kong had also scheduled its release, but performance was merely average.
After all, the film's dialogue was heavily laced with mainland dialects and plot elements only mainland audiences could grasp—it didn't resonate in Hong Kong, and featured no local stars. It was doubtful it would even hit 1 million HKD in final box office.
Yan Li wasn't disappointed—he never expected to make much in Hong Kong.
The Hong Kong film market had long lost its former glory, far outpaced by the mainland, reduced to what was called a "box office stronghold."
The term sounded impressive, but in reality, it meant turning Hong Kong from a market into just another city.
Moving north to seek opportunity had become the consensus among savvy Hong Kong film professionals.
Those who failed to recognize this—or clung stubbornly to Hong Kong for various reasons—would be slowly abandoned and eliminated by the times.
Among these savvy individuals, Chen Kexin was undoubtedly the smartest of the smart.
At a film conference led by China Film Group, Yan Li met this Hong Kong director.
In terms of seniority, Chen Kexin wasn't particularly old—he didn't truly emerge until the late 80s, and only produced his first major work in the 90s.
Though he debuted late, he rose quickly, directing many films, especially romantic dramas, winning numerous awards—but among Hong Kong's famed directors, he wasn't especially dominant, even slipping into horror films for a time.
But fortune favors the prepared: Chen Kexin's brilliance lay in seizing the critical moment when the mainland pushed for co-productions. He became one of the earliest directors to enter the mainland market and delivered hits like "If You Are the One," which earned both critical acclaim and strong box office.
Meanwhile, thanks to his overseas education, he had connections and funding sources in the U. .
As a Hong Kong director and one of the first to establish ties in the mainland, he could serve as a bridge between the two sides.
With all relationships aligned, funding secured, and personal capability proven, Chen Kexin naturally rose to prominence.
He directed "The Promise," a major production jointly funded by China Film Group, Universe Entertainment, and U. . capital behind Chen Kexin—300 million RMB in total.
Most astonishingly, rumors claimed he was negotiating with Li Lianjie to pay him 100 million RMB for the lead role.
For "Hero," Li's rumored fee was 70–80 million RMB; for "Fearless," released earlier that year, rumors said he waived his fee, converting it into equity investment, demanding 10 million U. . dollars—roughly 80 million RMB.
A 100-million-RMB fee would shatter records for Chinese-language cinema—and possibly all of Asia.
Even Cheng Long had never received such a direct salary in a Chinese-language film—he usually took profit-sharing instead.
Yan Li didn't know how much of this was publicity, but he knew the risk was enormous.
Profit-sharing and paying 100 million RMB outright were entirely different things.
Profit-sharing meant splitting the gains—if the film failed, no one got paid.
Paying 100 million RMB outright meant that sum was gone regardless—production had to bear the cost risk of that 100 million, plus the challenge of funding other expenses after spending it.
Like "Red Cliff," "The Promise" was clearly targeting more than just the mainland market.
Asia and the West were their real goals.
To be honest, Yan Li sometimes felt he was a lonely oddity among his peers, stubbornly rooted in the domestic market while others chased blockbusters or overseas opportunities.
Even Han Sanping had subtly criticized him, urging the young man to have boldness—there was vast potential overseas.
Yet Yan Li remained unmoved—the overseas market was not easy to crack.
The success of "Hero" and "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" had been accidental and serendipitous.
The rhetoric of "defending abroad" and "cultural export" was largely hollow—deep down, it still reflected disbelief in the potential of the domestic market.
One could understand it: in 2005, China's box office totaled only 2 billion RMB—less than the gross of some Hollywood films.
Not only did people then have a "foreign moon is round" mentality, but even the sheer market gap forced them to look overseas.
If Yan Li hadn't had his "cheat," he wouldn't have believed how terrifyingly fast this land would develop.
Precisely because of this, Yan Li firmly focused on the domestic market, unaffected by his peers.
He now even encouraged other filmmakers to go abroad.
Everyone rushes outward, but he firmly builds up within the mainland, and by the time they finish their struggles and return, they find Yi'an has accumulated advantages they can never match.
So Yan Li gets along well with Han Sanye, Chen Kexin, Wu Baige, and other big-budget film factions, happily helping with distribution and cooperation—but no investment money, not a cent.
Under normal circumstances, it's not up to Yan Li alone to refuse investment.
China Film Group and the Film Bureau are both pushing the big-budget strategy to stimulate the market; as an industry member—and even a key backbone—Yan Li can't just stand by doing nothing.
But Yan Li has a perfect excuse—the cinema chain.
Making big-budget films to boost the market is fine, but Yan Li's money goes into cinema chains, building theaters, driving real employment, which equally supports and promotes the film industry.
In a way, Yan Li has greater vision than these big-budget filmmakers.
No one can find fault with him.
Especially when Yan Li stated at the meeting that next year Yi'an Cinema Chain will continue investing hundreds of millions.
You don't care whether Yan Li's words are true or not—Yi'an's theaters are genuinely under construction, and Yan Li keeps publicly pushing forward; no one dares speak out against him.
After the meeting, Yu Pangzi and Yan Li gathered: "Are you really planning to keep investing in cinema chains next year? Where's the money coming from?"
"With my current fame, how many people are lining up with cash to partner with me? You think I don't have money?"
Yan Li wasn't boasting—his business grows hotter, his fame rises, and the money knocking at his door keeps increasing.
If Yi'an Cinema Chain were allowed to freely raise capital, I won't say millions—tens of millions would come easily; with looser terms, over a hundred million wouldn't be especially hard.
This is even under today's booming stock market, where many prefer investing in stocks—otherwise, even more capital would flow in.
"Tsk tsk, fame rises, profits follow."
Yu Pangzi sighed, then wondered if he could imitate this—he wasn't that old yet.
But after glancing at Yan Li's appearance, he silently gave up.
Yan Li is now held so high not just because he's young—he has good looks, rose fast, is highly capable, keeps delivering blockbusters, carries the actor's halo, and is surrounded by many beautiful women—all buffs stacked to the max; no ordinary person can copy him.
The business world has had some young people try to imitate Yan Li.
But those young and self-made lack Yan Li's success; those with high overall quality still fall short, and rich second-generation kids? They're born with "original sin," living off their parents.
"There's a new shop opened in Wangjing, felt good—come have a drink with me."
Yu Pangzi rarely ran into Yan Li and grabbed him, refusing to let him leave; Yan Li teased.
"Director Yu's making money off 'Dragon Tiger Gate.'"
"Don't mock me—I made nothing, I'm just drinking to drown my sorrows."
"Heh."
Yan Li sneered: "Stop pretending. 'Dragon Tiger Gate' has grossed over 30 million across mainland China, Hong Kong, Singapore, and Malaysia—less than a week in, you've already sold Japanese and Taiwan copyrights, and made plenty from DVDs."
"Add up all these miscellaneous earnings—how could you not profit? Don't tell me your 80-million investment was real. You're fooling fools."
'Dragon Tiger Gate' was advertised as an 80-million investment, but in reality, the lead actors and special effects didn't cost nearly that much.
Donnie Yen is currently only a second-tier actor in film, and he signed a few films with Huang Bai-ming's company—probably no more than 5 million.
Xie Tingfeng is expensive for TV dramas, but can't carry box office; his current market rate is 4 to 6 million.
Together, they total around 10 million—hardly more. The two female leads, Dong Jie and Li Xiaoran, are even cheaper.
So the film's cost couldn't possibly exceed 40 to 50 million.
If Yu Pangzi dares claim the 80-million investment was real, Yan Li will report him for money laundering.
"Even if you profit, it's just hard-earned cash—and given this box office trend, you might barely break even."
Yu Pangzi spoke with bitterness—Bona previously thought distribution profits were too low and they were too dependent on others, so they invested in production.
But film production runs even deeper; after all that effort, you barely break even or make a small profit—and that's if you're lucky; some just lose money for the sake of publicity.
Yan Li didn't offer comfort—he'd just made a huge profit from 'Crazy Stone,' so any sympathy would ring hollow and might even sting.
"Alright, I've got nothing else today—I'll join you for a drink."
As Yan Li agreed, a voice came from behind: "Where are you drinking? Count us in."
He turned around—it was all familiar faces.
Wu Boss from Orange Sky, Qin Boss from Starlight, and some random Li Boss from Little Horse Sprinting who'd wandered over.
"Li Boss, haven't seen you in a while."
Yan Li shook hands with Li Boss, who'd shaved his head— they'd known each other before.
Little Horse Sprinting was similar to Yi'an—both started with TV dramas; though originally, Little Horse Sprinting had also done advertising.
In the past two years, Little Horse Sprinting has done well too, with 'The Sky of History' as its signature work, closely collaborating with directors Zhang Jiandong and Gao Xixi.
Almost simultaneously with Yi'an, Little Horse Sprinting also tried making a film—but 'Crazy Stone' exploded, and theirs made no waves.
This Li Boss had a bold, generous personality; he shook hands with Yu Pangzi and declared directly.
"Since we've met, let's all gather—I'll treat."
Qin Boss from Starlight met Yan Li for the first time, exchanged a few pleasantries, then said outright: "I'll arrange the second venue."
No one challenged him; everyone smiled as if it were obvious.
The famous Beijing entertainment venue "Heavenly Realm" was owned by Qin Boss's own elder brother.
Of course, rumors say last year something happened, and Qin's brother "sold" Heavenly Realm—but those who know, know.
Yan Li chatted and laughed with Qin Boss, Li Boss, and Yu Pangzi, ignoring Wu Boss entirely.
He remembered the old grudge—Hua Yi's brothers had thrown a banquet to apologize, but Wu Boss said nothing.
Yan Li values harmony in business—but not at the cost of self-respect. If you don't give me face, why should I give you mine?
Seeing this, Wu Boss made no attempt to reconcile; he exchanged a few polite words with others and excused himself to leave.
Yu Pangzi winked at Yan Li: "This guy's got serious momentum—watch yourself."
"Just a traitorous lackey—and a clueless one at that."
Orange Sky had shallow roots in the mainland to begin with; they provoked Hua Yi first, then offended Yan Li, and when chances for reconciliation arose, they ignored them—this kind of person won't last.
Yan Li has dug up plenty of Orange Sky's secrets, and his evaluation of them has dropped further and further.
They seem fierce, but are in fact hollow inside, constrained and timid—nowhere near as threatening as Hua Yi's brothers.
Nearby, Li Boss found it amusing and patted Yan Li's shoulder.
"Brother, you've got guts—I like that."
Qin Boss smiled warmly: "I've heard so much about your youthful spirit, Yan Zong—today I see it's true. Let's drink well tonight."
Yan Li held a hard line against Orange Sky, but turned into a gentleman with everyone else.
"I won't compete with you two for hosting—but I've got a few bottles of aged wine in my car. Let's all taste them."
(End of Chapter)
End of Chapter
