Chapter 244: Setting a Trap for Huayi and the Bond Between the Two Forces

"Yan Er, are you investing in 'The Sun Also Rises'?"

After seeing off Uncle Han and Jiang Wen, Yan Li chatted with the teahouse manager about follow-up arrangements, then headed home—only to receive a call from Fatty Yu halfway.

Lately, Yan Li and Fatty Yu had grown closer; once their relationship solidified, their forms of address changed too.

Fatty Yu called Yan Li "Old Yan" or "Yan Er," the latter being a single syllable with an erhua ending; Yan Li called him "Bro Yu" or "Old Yu."

They were less than ten years apart in age, barely peers, and held similar status—changing how they addressed each other made things feel warmer.

In Jingcheng, this kind of informal address was popular—calling each other "Bro" or "Brother." Yan Li had even been called "Yan Ye."

But Yan Li wasn't fond of it; if he wasn't close to someone or didn't respect them, he preferred formal titles.

"You've got good connections."

Yan Li raised an eyebrow: "You've been watching this for a while, haven't you? So, you want a cut too?"

Fatty Yu didn't confirm it, instead probing Yan Li's opinion of 'The Sun Also Rises.'

Yan Li understood Fatty Yu well enough—given the relationship between China Film and Bona, if Uncle Han needed someone to help Jiang Wen secure investment, Fatty Yu would've been ranked above Yan Li.

But since no connection was made, Fatty Yu must have had reservations.

Still, Jiang Wen's name carried weight, and Yan Li, who had previously helmed 'Crazy Stone,' that year's surprise hit, also carried some clout.

When the two joined forces, Fatty Yu grew restless and called Yan Li to scout the situation.

"Bro Yu, between us, I won't lie—this film carries serious risk, but I believe in Jiang Wen and'm willing to bet on him."

"If we win, everyone's happy; if we lose, I'll just count it as making a new friend."

Yan Li spoke truthfully, though he omitted key details he couldn't reveal—yet to Fatty Yu, this was enough.

These days, investing in films is nothing but one gamble after another; if you're afraid to gamble, quit now.

Jiang Wen's project has buzz, but due to various reasons, everyone's hesitating—so if someone steps forward, others will follow.

"Don't rush to approach anyone else—I'll convene a meeting and think it over."

Fatty Yu hung up quickly; Yan Li stood there lost in thought, then called Li Xue.

"Spread a rumor at Huayi for me—say I'm extremely confident in Jiang Wen's 'The Sun Also Rises' and that Bona is pouring heavy investment into it."

Li Xue had done this before; after discussing details with Yan Li, she guaranteed the Wang brothers would hear the rumor within the day.

She had the confidence to say this—she was now one of Huayi's lead talent agents; spreading a rumor was effortless.

Yan Li hung up and called another acquaintance; Li Xiaolu's voice sounded surprised.

"What's the occasion, Boss Yan? Why the call?"

"Are you free to talk?"

Li Xiaolu glanced at her boyfriend Li Chen watching TV, hesitated slightly, then turned and walked into the bedroom.

"Now I can talk."

"I remember you're under Chengtian. Do you have anyone in the company who can spread a message without exposing you—ideally so your boss hears it?"

Yan Li laid out his request; Li Xiaolu frowned: "Why are you coming to me?"

Yan Li didn't have just one contact at Chengtian—not to mention Wang Jinghua; Tong Dawei and Yang Xue were both there now, and their ties with him were far stronger than hers.

"They don't have your guts, or your ability."

Yan Li hadn't randomly picked Li Xiaolu—though Wang Jinghua and others were familiar, they might not dare help him scheme against Chengtian; Li Xiaolu had a taste for drama and was more likely to be swayed.

Plus, Li Xiaolu was skilled at networking, held some status and connections, and was far more useful than Yang Xue or Tong Dawei.

More importantly, Yang Xue and Tong Dawei were on good terms with Yan Li—he didn't want to put them in a bind, and if things went wrong, they'd be dragged down too.

Li Xiaolu didn't matter as much—worst case, he'd give her some perks.

Li Xiaolu didn't know any of this; she remained skeptical: "How do you know I'll agree—or won't turn you in?"

"I trust my judgment."

Yan Li's words were pure nonsense—if Li Xiaolu refused, he'd find someone else; even if she betrayed him, it was just bait—he'd lose nothing if no fish bit.

Still, Li Xiaolu was flattered—she felt valued, treated like someone important, and wouldn't let herself down.

"No problem—I'll get it done for you."

Yan Li praised her again, then explained the plan and promised a reward.

"If you pull it off, I'll get you a role with good pay and lots of screen time."

Li Xiaolu didn't care about acting gigs—she had little ambition, came from wealth, didn't need money, and loved having fun; she had no strong desire to join a shoot.

"You owe me—help me get Li Chen a role."

Li Xiaolu didn't act herself, but she was happy to push her boyfriend Li Chen into acting—it would earn money, boost his fame, and make her look good when she took him out.

"That guy from the barbecue place last time? Easy."

Arranging for Li Xiaolu might take a bit more effort—she was a rising star; ordinary resources wouldn't cut it.

Li Chen's fame was far behind hers; with Yan Li's current resources and connections, landing him a male lead wouldn't be hard.

After hanging up, Li Xiaolu felt great.

She didn't know why Yan Li wanted her to spread the rumor, but it probably wasn't innocent.

Was she getting dragged into one of those legendary corporate wars?!

For Li Xiaolu, who loved mischief, this was thrillingly fresh.

Add to that the chance to get closer to a big shot like Yan Li and secure benefits for her boyfriend—and her mood soared; she hummed a tune as she stepped out of the bedroom.

Li Chen, curious, asked: "Who called?"

"No one. A friend."

Li Xiaolu had promised Yan Li secrecy, so she brushed off her boyfriend with a casual answer, then ate an apple while fiddling with her phone, thinking about who to send the rumor to—completely unaware that Li Chen's eyes flickered slightly as he watched her.

Her boyfriend saw her sneak off to the bedroom for a mysterious call, then emerge glowing with satisfaction, now texting on her phone and hiding it from him.

Who wouldn't be suspicious?

Li Chen felt somewhat insecure due to his lesser fame compared to Li Xiaolu and the imbalance in their romantic relationship.

Even without wind, ripples form on water—how much more so when a clod of dirt is thrown into it?

Taking advantage of Li Xiaolu's mid-meeting trip to the restroom, Li Chen couldn't resist glancing at her phone; her phone had no password lock, so he easily saw the previous call logs.

【Yan Li】

A man's name, a tree's shadow—everyone who knows knows Yan Lao's reputation; seeing those two characters as the contact label, Li Chen's blood nearly turned cold.

Think of Li Xiaolu's recent behavior, think of how often she'd been going out lately under the excuse of meeting her Teddy Sister group, her outings far more frequent than before, and how many times she'd expressed admiration and praise for Yan Li.

"…"

The more Li Chen pondered, the more he felt his head turning green—but he still clung to hope, since there was no solid proof, just his wild guesses.

Maybe he'd misunderstood!?

Li Chen wanted to ask Li Xiaolu, but was afraid; if he got it wrong, she wasn't the type to forgive easily—she'd scratch his face raw if she flew into a rage.

It must be a misunderstanding!

Finally, Li Chen convinced himself—then Li Xiaolu returned from the restroom, and after a while, she rushed into the bedroom to make a phone call, refusing to let him listen.

Li Chen: "…"

…

Li Xue acted with great efficiency; Wang Zhongjun soon received the news and fell into turmoil.

As for Jiang Wen's film, Wang Zhongjun had known about it far earlier than Fatty or Yan Li, since he'd been one of the investors in "Devils on the Doorstep," and Jiang Wen would naturally turn to old acquaintances for his new project.

But the experience from "Devils on the Doorstep" had been terrible for Wang Zhongjun, so he hadn't participated.

Yet like Fatty, he was still somewhat influenced by Jiang Wen's ability and reputation, leaving him internally conflicted.

When the film had faced constant setbacks, Wang Zhongjun had felt relieved he'd been smart enough to avoid the pitfall, even a little proud.

But now that he heard Yan Li and Fatty planned to invest, he could no longer feel proud.

Yan Li had a big reputation; Fatty's reputation wasn't small either, especially in today's film industry—Bona was practically the top distribution company, its credibility even greater than Yan Li's.

With the two of them joining forces to invest in Jiang Wen, and Han Sanye pulling strings, this lineup truly made Wang Zhongjun uneasy.

Had he avoided a trap—or missed a pie?

Wang Zhongjun hesitated, making several calls and mobilizing his connections to gather information.

When he confirmed that Yan Li was directly investing 10 million, and actively helping to recruit other investors, and that Bona truly leaned toward investing—even seeking distribution rights—he was shaken.

After a long hesitation, Wang Zhongjun called Jiang Wen and asked to meet.

Jiang Wen was a man of principle—he kept his appointments, and besides, he knew perfectly well what treatment he'd received from Huayi versus what he'd received from Yan Li.

Moreover, Yan Li had already warned him, so Jiang Wen told Wang Zhongjun to contact Yan Li, since Yan Li was now the producer of "The Sun Also Rises."

Wang Zhongjun played it safe and called Fatty to ask his opinion on the film.

Unlike Yan Li, Fatty genuinely believed in it and dared to bet, so his tone was bold.

Because of Fatty's stance, Wang Zhongjun directly contacted Yan Li—but the latter seemed reluctant.

"Manager Wang, there is indeed a funding gap; if you want to invest, I welcome you."

"But let me be clear upfront—this film carries risk. Please think carefully, don't come back blaming me for not being fair."

If Yan Li had welcomed him enthusiastically, given his ties to Huayi, Wang Zhongjun might have suspected something.

But Yan Li's subtle warnings, as if afraid he'd be tricked, made Wang Zhongjun all the more determined to join.

After all, Yan Li had genuinely invested 10 million—no one sets a trap like that.

Even if it lost money, the risk would be shared among Yan Li, Bona, and Huayi—it wouldn't be too much.

But if it made money—and made a lot—and Huayi had the chance but didn't invest, Wang Zhongjun would be heartbroken.

Thus, despite Yan Li's repeated warnings, Huayi still invested in "The Sun Also Rises" under "pressure."

Huayi's participation further strengthened Bona's confidence; Fatty didn't just want to invest—he wanted distribution rights.

Once the news spread, other companies also grew restless.

For instance, Orange Sky, which Yan Li had his eye on—Boss Wu seriously considered joining, but Orange Sky's funds were tied up in "Red Cliff" and it planned to acquire Shaw Brothers, leaving it with no cash left—so it could only regretfully miss out.

The swiftest mover was Xiangjiang's Yinghuang; Boss Yang greatly admired Jiang Wen.

Hearing of this opportunity for collaboration, with several mainland heavyweights vouching, he proactively contacted Yan Li, hoping to join as an investor.

Yan Li gave the same line: the risk is high, invest cautiously.

That line couldn't scare off Fatty, let alone Boss Yang, who had weathered decades of storms.

Which Hong Kong film giant hasn't lost money? Often they lost more than they gained—but they still invested.

Boss Yang didn't just invest—he invested heavily, throwing down 10 million at once; small stakes held no appeal.

This created a problem: there wasn't enough share to go around.

The planned fundraising target was 25 million; Yinghuang contributed 10 million, Yan Li 10 million—Huayi and Bona couldn't possibly each put in only 2.5 million.

So Yan Li studied the situation and said he'd emphasized the film's high risk purely to help a friend.

Grateful for everyone's support, he wouldn't hold back anymore.

Yinghuang's 10 million was a favor to a Hong Kong friend; he would reallocate 5 million from his own share, and Huayi, Bona, and Yian would each receive 5 million.

If we profit, we all profit; if we lose, we all lose.

Seeing this, Huayi and Bona felt Yan Li's arrangement was fair.

Investing more made them nervous; investing less wasn't worth it. Five million was just right—equal shares among the three, no one gained more, no one lost more, everyone felt balanced.

With Yinghuang, Yian, Huayi, and Bona all investing, the stir was significant.

Even Han Sanye hesitated, wondering if China Film Group should join—these four companies could silence many voices.

But Yan Li refused; shares were already stretched thin, it was too late to join—next time.

Yan Li wasn't just pushing back Han Sanye—he was also recommending several other companies, including Starlight, Xiao Ma Bunteng, and Guangxian.

Later, at a high-level gathering with Wang Zhongjun, Fan Xiaopang, and Ying Huang, Yan Li couldn't help mocking himself: he'd offended quite a few people this time.

Several bosses were very satisfied—things that are fought over are the most desirable.

Outside companies were scrambling to invest in Yan Li, but he refused them all, proving their choice was right; thanks to their good relations and acting early, they'd have gotten nothing otherwise.

However, Wang Zhongjun had been burned by Jiang Wen before and specifically warned Yan Li not to let Jiang Wen get too loose.

That old rascal acts on whims—he'd burn through any amount of money; he needs to be watched, or this 25 million will go over budget again.

By then, we might not lack investors, but it would definitely hurt our shares and profits.

Yan Li took this to heart and assigned someone specifically to monitor the funds.

Besides, Jiang Wen himself also put in a lot—he waived all his acting and director fees, effectively working for free, and invested his own money along with his wife's and younger brother Jiang Wu's.

Spending investors' money doesn't sting, but with his own, his wife's, and his brother's savings on the line, he had to have some sense of restraint.

After securing the investment, Jiang Wen took time off to return to Jingcheng to thank Yan Li. Yan Li was his first investor after hitting walls everywhere; the follow-up funding was also arranged by him. No matter how much others put in, Jiang Wen owed the favor to Yan Li.

Han Sanye felt the same—Yan Li showed face, delivered outstanding ability, took on the task, and handled it beautifully.

As for rejecting China Film Group Production's investment, it was trivial—it was just a tentative inquiry to begin with; if they didn't invest at first, how could they expect to hop on board late and get such good fortune?

Happy, Han Sanye added another private enterprise to the list submitted to a certain bureau for support.

Of course, Han Sanye didn't have that much authority—Yi'an was already qualified for selection.

But being qualified is entirely different from having someone key push you forward.

Sometimes, just one name can directly decide a company's future.

Yan Li reviewed it all: a small investment, gained Jiang Wen's favor, laid groundwork for entering "Let the Bullets Fly," and earned face with Han Sanye.

He never intended to trick Fan Xiaopang or Ying Huang—they came to him themselves, and he told them everything he should.

Huayi was bait he set, then he used a trick—but he felt zero guilt about swindling Huayi.

And it wasn't even necessarily a swindle—"The Sun Also Rises" was high-risk, but not guaranteed to lose; if it won an award or made a run for the Oscars, it might actually turn a profit.

Fan Xiaopang, Wang Zhongjun, and Boss Yang weren't fools—they'd thought of this too.

Jiang Wen had always performed well in Europe; if he won a major prize, with everyone pitching in on marketing and promotion, a domestic box office of tens of millions or even over a hundred million, plus overseas rights sales, could mean both fame and fortune.

Ying Huang even slipped in an actor—Jackie Chan's son.

Yan Li had originally considered letting Fan Xiaopang gain some prestige, but the latter had no availability, so he dropped it.

————

Yan Li didn't take "The Sun Also Rises" too seriously.

But many observant people saw in this incident Yan Li's connections and influence.

They didn't know the details—only that when Yan Li said he'd help Jiang Wen, in a few days he'd pulled together 25 million from Bona, Huayi, and Ying Huang, and turned down many who wanted to invest.

Perhaps Yan Li himself took it for granted—using his reputation, halo, and intelligence network to read people's minds, raising investment was truly no trouble for him.

But for filmmakers and crews who had begged and pleaded, hitting wall after wall, Yan Li's move was nothing short of divine skill.

Thus, Yan Li found his popularity in the film circle suddenly improved—many now sought him out to invest or raise investment.

For example, "Jin Ling, Jin Ling," a film that had struggled for years to raise funding.

This film had been in development for a long time; director Lu Chuan had been trying to raise investment, but it hadn't gone well.

There were many reasons—in short, it was not well regarded.

After hearing Jiang Wen's story, Lu Chuan, through connections, approached Yan Li, hoping Yan Zong could lend a hand.

Yan Li, having triggered Qin Lan's resume data, had a very average impression of Lu.

But considering the intermediary's face, he still took the script home to read, then replied with four characters: "Seek another expert."

Later, someone asked Yan Li his opinion on this film.

Normally, Yan Li wouldn't kick someone when they were down—but thinking of Lu Chuan and the film's plot, he gave his evaluation anyway.

"The screenwriter might be Japanese."

This remark spread, and Lu Chuan, as both director and screenwriter, was left wondering how to react.

But as Yan Li, who had just secured investment for "The Sun Also Rises," his words carried weight; "Jin Ling, Jin Ling," already struggling to raise funds, became even more ignored.

Besides this film, he declined many other films that came to him—but regardless of his opinion, he said nothing further publicly.

Most films were politely declined, but some caught Yan Li's eye.

For example, a low-budget film called "Love Is a Moving Target."

The plot was quite interesting: the male lead juggles twelve women like sugar-coated haws, interweaving major and minor events of 2006, a year-in-review film meant for New Year's celebration.

China Film Group Production originally wanted to partner with Chengtian, but Han Sanye thought Yan Li reliable, and since this film needed many female stars—Yan Li's strength—he pushed for Yan Li.

Yan Li thought this film had potential.

The cost was very low, and as a city-based film, many elements could easily incorporate ads, saving massive costs.

Meanwhile, with New Year's and romance as themes, it could leverage Yi'an's ground promotion strategy, aiding distribution.

Yan Li spoke with China Film Group and the crew, spent not a single cent, and secured 50% of the film's shares and distribution rights by securing ad placements (no less than 3 million) and low-cost or cameo appearances by actresses.

China Film Group had even considered whether Yan Li should play the male lead—jugging twelve women would be more sensational.

But Yan Li declined.

The film had a comedic tone, and the protagonist was designed as a middle-aged man who could only seduce women with cheat powers.

Neither Yan Li personally nor the public's perception matched this "pathetic" middle-aged man—forcing him to play it would feel jarringly off.

Xu Zheng was the better fit for the role—he could be the "angel" who helps him find women.

Actually, Yan Li didn't need to exert much effort—China Film Group could easily find several actresses on their own.

Yan Li just needed to ask Teddy Sisters, Seven Fairies, Wang Ou, and a few others who were free, and he could assemble them—all of them well-known.

Another film left an impression on Yan Li: "Apple."

The director was a woman named Li Yu—Yan Li had previously triggered intelligence on this film.

Li Yu approached Yan Li, one reason being to secure investment, the other to get Fan Xiaopang to play the female lead.

Yan Li had originally been quite interested in the film due to intelligence reports, but after reading the script, she told Li Yu to go cool off somewhere.

Li Yu still wouldn't give up, taking the script to Fan Xiaopang, and received the same cold shoulder.

Fan Xiaopang lived a comfortable life, neither short on money nor resources; why would she waste her time filming explicit scenes? She almost suspected Li Yu had been bribed by Dong Qin to trap her.

Still, though she didn't take the role in *Apple*, after communicating with Li Yu, Fan Xiaopang developed greater admiration for the director and personally invested one million yuan to become a film investor.

Having worked with Yan Li for a long time, Fan Xiaopang's thinking had shifted; beyond acting, she now consciously considered behind-the-scenes roles.

But since Yi'an had many projects requiring her, and Yan Li was already firmly in charge behind the scenes, Fan Xiaopang's inclination to transition behind the camera remained low—investing in *Apple* was merely a small test.

As for acting in films, Fan Xiaopang wasn't in a hurry, because before Li Yu approached her, Yan Li had already told her.

This time, he had found a decent script and was currently refining and revising it, along with preliminary planning.

The film's title was—*Painted Skin*.

…

Since entering the film market, Yan Li had always placed greater emphasis on theatrical releases and distribution, prioritizing low- to medium-budget productions.

But to be honest, in today's film market—especially if one wants to break into the top tier—investing solely in low-budget films is extremely difficult.

Low budget means no stars, poor promotional resources, weak audience appeal, and inherently low box office potential.

A few dark horses occasionally emerge, but Yan Li couldn't just invest in them at will, because many of these dark horses had backers already.

Other film companies aren't just sitting idle; if a script is solid and the cost is low, many are willing to take a chance.

Even if Yan Li casts a wide net, she might not catch any fish or get a share of the pie—low-budget films offer little profit.

So after all this back-and-forth, the matter circled back to square one.

For Yi'an to establish itself and grow strong in the film industry, it must produce large-scale films led by itself.

Yan Li had previously considered this, and had long been searching for a good script.

Perhaps because she kept thinking about it, the universe finally responded—or perhaps because more film crews had come to him recently; in any case, last month's intelligence report triggered future intelligence related to *Painted Skin*.

In fact, Yan Li had seen glimpses of this film in earlier intelligence.

But all she had was a title and fragmented details, leaving her with no way to proceed.

This time, the intelligence was far more detailed, opening Yan Li's mind to the core creative team, the film's strengths and weaknesses, and behind-the-scenes information.

Then Yan Li felt this film was quite suitable for Yi'an.

First, the investment, though not small—likely tens of millions—was still within acceptable limits.

Moreover, the box office projections in the intelligence gave Yan Li confidence; even if it failed, she wouldn't lose too badly.

Second, this film greatly elevated its leads: the male protagonist and both female leads all gained immense benefits.

Yan Li placed special emphasis on a film's "added value."

This was the film's greatest advantage—its added-value returns far exceeded its box office earnings.

A film with merely high box office numbers wasn't truly a qualified blockbuster.

Third, Yan Li had some confidence in replicating—or even enhancing—the film's selling points.

It wasn't that if intelligence said a film had high box office, Yan Li could just copy the name and make it succeed.

Many films succeeded only because timing, location, and human factors all aligned—actors, crew, promotion, release date—all crucial.

Take *Crazy Stone* as an example.

Yan Li didn't alter the film itself at all; instead, he increased the budget for optimization and focused heavily on promotion, plugging the gaps, which is why it became a box office hit.

If he had been clever-clever and tampered with the plot, or replaced the director or core actors, *Crazy Stone* might have flopped.

For *Painted Skin*, he had no intention of changing the screenwriter or director—only offering reminders based on the intelligence's revealed strengths and weaknesses.

The actors would definitely be replaced, but not randomly; he'd ensure acting quality and promotional appeal.

*Painted Skin* was marketed as a fantasy special-effects epic, but in reality leaned more toward emotion, precisely targeting audiences with themes of human love, Eastern aesthetics, and visual effects to harvest box office.

Another key point worth mentioning was the casting of multiple high-popularity stars to attract casual viewers.

Zhou Young Master guaranteed acting quality, Xiao Yanzi provided national recognition, Chen Kun was a current heartthrob, and added to that, Jet Zhang attracted action film audiences—this lead lineup was undeniably carefully chosen.

Yan Li, for various reasons, couldn't use this cast—but he had his own ace up his sleeve—

The Bond Between Shuang Bing!

In terms of national recognition and acting ability, Shuang Bing might not surpass Zhou and Xiao Yanzi, but both were well above average.

Moreover, their complicated history of grudges and affection made their joint appearance in *Painted Skin*—as rivals for the same love—extraordinarily eye-catching, creating a chemical effect greater than the sum of its parts.

Since *Huan Tian Xi Di Seven Fairies*, Shuang Bing had grown increasingly popular, their bond deeper.

Many had wanted to pair them together for profit, but Yan Li had always held them back; now, Yan Li felt it was time to let Shuang Bing reunite.

As for the male lead, there were currently three candidates.

One was Chen Kun; since he succeeded in the original version, he had undeniable merit.

Another was Deng Chao, Yi'an's future top star; promoting him would bring the company profit.

The last was Yan Li himself.

To be honest, casting Yan Li in this role was a bit of a waste—he was already famous and couldn't chase money like Deng Chao—but Yan Li had one advantage: he could maximize the Shuang Bing bond effect.

Shuang Bing alone were already captivating; adding Yan Li meant on- and off-screen, Shuang Bing vying for Yan Li.

The plot might be clichéd, but there were plenty who loved it!

With all three working together, they could save countless promotional costs and attract countless viewers, deepening their bond further and generating endless topics and benefits for the future.

Also, the male lead's character was a military general—tough yet tender.

Yan Li might not be great at other roles, but a military general was absolutely his comfort zone; no worries about acting or image.

Besides, Shuang Bing's bond was deep, and so was their conflict; it wouldn't be surprising if they came to blows on set one day.

Other male actors might not be able to control them, but if Yan Li was there, he might catalyze the tension—yet he could also hold the scene together, at least preventing outright brawls on set.

The more Yan Li thought it over, the more he felt he was the most suitable, but the project was still in preparation, so nothing could be confirmed yet.

Putting everything else aside, at this stage domestic blockbusters that didn't rely on those big-name Hong Kong and Taiwan actors to carry the film were pitifully few.

"Painted Skin" needed investment, so Yan Li had to test the market and investors' receptiveness to the idea.

On the other hand, Fan Xiaopang's side was easy to handle; Li Bingbing had a very good relationship with him, but she wasn't someone you could just summon at will either.

Many of the details here needed to be discussed clearly, so that Li Bingbing would know that doing it this way benefited everyone, and she had to be given sufficient respect.

Otherwise, if he forced the issue by leaning on personal ties to bring her in, once the film wrapped the relationship would be ruined, and later trying to reunite the "Double Bing" would be difficult.

If the "Double Bing" card was played well, it wouldn't just mean cashing in on one "Painted Skin."

While giving Li Bingbing benefits and respect, he couldn't shortchange Fan Xiaopang either.

Not to mention her relationship with Yan Li, just as his own studio's top actress, she couldn't be overshadowed within the Double Bing pairing.

As the saying went, Double Bing, Double Bing—only evenly matched forces made for a good show; one big and one small just didn't have that flavor.

So, getting the Double Bing to come wasn't necessarily hard for Yan Li; the real test for him was making the Double Bing collaboration satisfying, letting each shine, and ensuring they could continue working together afterward.

Yan Li was still confident, and at the same time he felt "Painted Skin" was very likely to be a milestone moment for the Double Bing.

Once their joint work on "Painted Skin" was a great success, it could further boost the Double Bing brand.

And because it was a commercial film success, the Double Bing's momentum would surge, truly standing shoulder to shoulder with the Four Dan, jointly entering the ranks of top-tier Hua Dan...

(End of chapter)