Chapter 248: Fan Xiaopang Grows Invisible Wings, Plotting the Great Director

Yan Li and the other two sat in the living room, listening to the bedroom erupt in crying and shouting for a long while.

When the noise finally subsided, Yan Li checked his watch and said to Dong Xuan, "It's about time. Go check on Guan Yue—see if they're leaving together, or if you should take her home first."

Dong Xuan nodded, went inside, and emerged leading Guan Yue: "I'll take Lao Guan home first."

Yan Li nodded: "I've called a car. Just go straight. I'll chat with Da Wei."

Qin Lan raised her hand: "I'll go with them."

Yan Li hesitated slightly: "Fine, but no fighting."

"Who's fighting? We just argued a bit, shoved each other a couple times—don't make it sound worse than it is."

In front of Guan Yue, Qin Lan still cared about face, downplaying the scene of hair-pulling and clothes-tearing as a minor squabble.

Dong Xuan agreed—even though Guan Yue was her best friend, she'd rather not mention the humiliating events from last night and this morning.

Yan Li thought the two had seemed relatively calm earlier, and with Guan Yue's incident now fresh, they wouldn't escalate further, so he let the three leave together.

After they left, Yan Li called out to the bedroom: "Alright, I'm the only one left. Come out."

Tong Dawei emerged from the bedroom, expressionless, hair disheveled, faint bloodstains and palm prints visible on his face and neck.

Yan Li tossed him a cigarette: "This isn't my fault—it's just bad timing. Those two women were watching too closely, or I'd have warned you."

Tong Dawei lit the cigarette silently. He believed Yan Li.

Dong Xuan helping Guan Yue catch her husband in the act was understandable. As for Yan Li, whether by personal conduct, status, or private friendship, he had no reason to show up here just to gawk.

"Sorry you had to see this."

Tong Dawei's voice was dull. Yan Li waved his hand: "Last time on the set of 'Struggle,' you watched my mess too. Consider it even."

Last time, Qin Lan and Dong Xuan ran into each other during a visit to the 'Struggle' set, clashed, and came to blows.

Tong Dawei had been right there pulling them apart, watching the whole show. Now, helping Guan Yue catch her husband, Dong, Qin, and Yan were all the same players from last time.

Every sip and bite is predestined—no one has the right to laugh at another.

Hearing this, Tong Dawei felt a little better, but still smoked in silence.

Yan Li didn't press further—it wasn't really worth asking about.

A popular young actor, good-looking, with some money—women throw themselves at him constantly. It's not hard to understand if he can't keep his pants zipped.

Yan Li had seen too much, and had too many himself—he had no right to preach or counsel, and no real authority to do so.

After smoking two cigarettes, the only thing Yan Li asked was how Tong Dawei planned to handle things with Guan Yue going forward.

Tong Dawei had done this before—last time he wasn't caught red-handed, they argued for a while, then got back together.

But this time it was so violent—could they still live together peacefully?

Could Guan Yue tolerate it? Could Tong Dawei?

Yan Li's eyes were sharp, his mind quick—he understood their core issue wasn't Tong Dawei's infidelity, but that his mindset had drifted.

Plainly put, now that he was famous, he looked down on Guan Yue, his old wife, or wanted a wife at home and a mistress outside.

To be fair, Yan Li bore some blame here.

He himself kept women on both sides, eating here and sleeping there—who wouldn't envy that? Who wouldn't want to copy him a little?

Tong Dawei was close to him and knew Dong Xuan well. He'd seen Yan Boss's carefree life, and watched Dong Xuan endure humiliation, show understanding, and never complain—it was only natural he'd develop ideas.

Yan Li had long stopped arguing against such thoughts.

He'd tried advising others before—playing this game isn't as simple as it looks.

You need money, status, youth, looks, generosity, emotional intelligence, skill in balancing and soothing, a mix of soft and hard tactics—and most crucially, a system cheat and a strong kidney.

Even then, aside from the few women he truly cared about, Yan Li always prepared himself for their departure.

So people only see the glamour in front, ignoring the effort behind.

Ordinary people trying to copy him? Wearing a green hat is the mildest consequence.

Of course, Tong Dawei still had some self-awareness—he knew he wasn't as capable as Yan Li, and one big, one small was enough for him.

But Guan Yue wouldn't tolerate it. If he sneaked around once and wasn't caught, fine—but keeping a mistress? She'd never accept it.

Copy Yan Li?

You copy his women, but why not copy how he makes money and runs a company?!

Guan Yue felt Tong Dawei had become arrogant, full of tricks, nothing like the honest, simple man who once pursued her.

Tong Dawei thought that even if he wasn't as good as Yan Li, he was still a popular actor—Guan Yue, a lowly teacher, had climbed up to him, and now she controlled everything, ungrateful and unreasonable.

Listening to Tong Dawei's endless complaints, Yan Li shook his head.

So don't meddle in married life—each has their own thoughts and reasons, and each believes they're right.

Tong Dawei had drifted, but Guan Yue judged him by old standards—she had her own problems too.

A woman must be firm when needed, but also soft when needed. If you're never soft, he'll find someone softer outside—and of course he'll be tempted.

Yan Li didn't urge him further—just listened, as a decent listener, as Tong Dawei poured out his grievances for a long while.

Until Tong Dawei asked Yan Li what he should do—then Yan Li paused thoughtfully.

"Your marital issues—you have to solve them yourselves. But as friends for so many years, I'll say one more thing."

"No matter how wrong Guan Yue may be, when she first stood by you, you weren't a famous star. Through all these storms, she's walked every step with you."

"Now the women clinging to you—what are they after? Will they stand by you through hardship? You must know the difference."

Conflict is normal, but don't only remember the hardships—remember the sweetness too.

"..."

Yan Li had many women, but the ones he truly cared about were Dong Xuan and Qin Lan—because when they chose him, he was nothing.

Tong Dawei and Guan Yue were the same!

Sure, Guan Yue may have been betting on his potential—but even betting on potential is still a bet.

Back then, 'The Jade Guanyin' was delayed endlessly; Tong Dawei was constantly anxious, and Guan Yue comforted and encouraged him. When the Shi Xiba Mei scandal dragged him into a PR crisis, it was Guan Yue supporting him behind the scenes.

Don't underestimate this—being alone in despair versus having someone steadfastly beside you is worlds apart.

Besides, over the years, whenever Tong Dawei was away working, Guan Yue handled everything at home.

Tong's father was a vegetable, cared for by his mother, but still required much help—Guan Yue assisted with many things.

Not being able to keep his pants zipped? Yan Li could understand. But he believed you must know the difference between playing around and recognizing who truly belongs to you.

Of course, this was Yan Li's view—if Tong Dawei truly couldn't live with Guan Yue anymore, he couldn't stop him.

You choose your own path; you eat your own bitter or sweet fruit.

…

After chatting a while, Yan Li parted ways with Tong Dawei and returned to Yangjiao Deng Hutong.

Dong Xuan was still with Guan Yue; Qin Lan had already come back.

Their relationship was still awkward, and since Qin Lan had a flight that night, she stayed only briefly before leaving early.

"What did Guan Yue say?"

Yan Li was curious. Qin Lan shook her head: "What can she say? Cry, of course. She shouts about breaking up, but I can tell she doesn't want to."

Men understand men; women understand women.

Yan Li could dissect Tong Dawei's thoughts; Qin Lan could also sense some of Guan Yue's feelings.

Besides, she'd been through something similar.

When she first found out about Yan Li's affairs, she'd cried privately, thought about leaving—yet in the end, she accepted it.

Qin Lan had seen what real, determined breakups looked like—Liu Yun had been dead-set on leaving. Guan Yue wasn't like that.

"Nie Yuan's no good, Tong Dawei's no good—why are all you men like this?"

Qin Lan began generalizing. Yan Li disagreed: "A few individuals, don't generalize to the whole group. Pan Jinlian murdered her husband—does that mean all women are like her?"

"Besides, don't compare me to them—they're not even in the same league."

Qin Lan sneered: "You're worse than them."

Still, just like last time when Nie Yuan's scandal made Yan Li look better, these messy boyfriends of her friends actually worked in Yan Li's favor.

When everyone shares the same weakness, you win by playing up your strengths—no matter how you play, Yan Li wins.

Even to some extent, Nie and Tong both "abandoned their old wives," but Yan Li, no matter what, always held onto the past—on this point, he subtly outshone them.

Last time, Qin Lan comforted herself. This time, it was Dong Xuan's turn.

Dong Xuan stayed with Guan Yue overnight. When she returned the next day, the resentment in her gaze toward Yan Li had noticeably faded, replaced by a touch of dependence.

Yan Li seized the moment, pulled her close, cooed soothing words, skillfully shifted the conversation back to Tong and Guan, and by morning, the incident between Dong and Qin was mostly forgotten.

It made Yan Li want to create a long-term "catch-them-in-the-act" package with Tong Dawei or the Teddy Sisters' "brothers-in-law."

First, build up your own image, then go catch theirs.

It vents your anger, enhances your reputation, and works far better than struggling to soothe them yourself.

Qin Lan returned to France. Dong Xuan stayed two more days, mainly to comfort Guan Yue, then went back to Xinjiang.

Tong Dawei and Guan Yue hadn't broken up, nor had they returned to normal—they were in a cold war.

This was standard procedure: cool off, let tempers settle, then act. If they could move past it, fine; if not, they'd part ways.

Yan Li didn't pay much attention to the couple. Since mid-November, Yi'an's new drama had finally aired.

'The White-Haired Witch' premiered on Beijing TV on November 18.

Over the past two years, Yi'an's TV drama distribution had been formidable—enough to be called industry leader—but not so powerful that every drama could go straight to national satellite premiere.

Precisely put, Yi'an could do it—but how much it could sell, which satellite channel would buy it, and how much revenue it would generate, remained uncertain.

So, besides a few select dramas that went straight to satellite, the standard Yi'an distribution process remained: premiere on local channels first, then negotiate satellite deals based on ratings.

'The White-Haired Witch' had a strong cast and no shortage of satellite interest, but the price had never been settled.

After discussion, they decided to air it on local channels first, gauge its reception, then negotiate with interested satellite networks.

Good ratings mean high prices.

Mediocre ratings still warrant a discount.

This kind of bet-like distribution model is becoming increasingly common in Yi'an and across the entire film and television market.

Television networks aren't fools; sometimes their shrewdness and stubbornness surpass even private enterprises.

If distributors and producers want more money—or even to sell at all—they must share the risk.

It's not just TV dramas; film distribution follows similar tactics.

Either sign a bet contract with theater chains to secure more showtimes, or sign a guaranteed minimum contract with the producer to obtain distribution rights.

Especially those guaranteed minimum contracts—no one knows which bastard invented them, but they've ruined a bunch of distribution companies.

BoNa originally only handled film distribution; one major reason they began investing in production was precisely because of guaranteed minimum contracts.

Suoweifaxingbaodi, Jifaxingfangweilenadaodianyingfaxinghetong, Yuzhizuofangyuedingbaodi 。

For example, a hot film with strong box office potential attracts several distributors; one distributor, eager to secure the rights, agrees to a guaranteed minimum contract with the producer.

A guaranteed minimum means ensuring the producer receives a 【minimum net income】.

For instance, if both sides agree to a 100-million-yuan guarantee, regardless of whether the film earns over 100 million, the distributor must guarantee the producer receives their share of 100 million in box office revenue.

In plain terms, the distributor pays the producer to cover the bottom line.

But distributors aren't idiots—they won't cover losses for free; typically, if the box office exceeds 100 million, the distributor takes a larger cut.

This model lets distributors potentially earn more, but the risk is high.

Passive, risky, and requiring upfront deposits—after crunching the numbers, companies like BoNa realized: since it's all gambling anyway, better to invest directly and skip the middleman.

The longer Yan Li stays in distribution, the more he feels the importance of participating in production and investing in theaters and video platforms.

No matter how mighty you call yourself "King of Distribution," you're still stuck in the middle, always getting squeezed from both sides.

Besides "The White-Haired Witch," Fan Xiaopang's new film "Mo Gong" will also premiere in late November.

And Fan Xiaopang's new album "Just Begun" will launch and chart in December.

The title "Just Begun" was chosen by Fan Xiaopang herself.

Her first album, released after joining a new agency, symbolizes that her acting and music careers are now "just begun."

Of course, it also hints at another path just beginning—those who understand, understand.

One drama, one film, one album, plus "The Legend of Yang Yuhuan" still not wrapped, plus advertising campaigns and year-end galas.

Fan Xiaopang will be swamped in the final two months of 2006!

But Yan Li has no time to pity her; while Fan Xiaopang is busy, he's no better off.

As year-end approaches, every company must review and summarize, then plan next year's strategy.

Outside, there are endless year-end events, meetings, and awards—all requiring the presence of this outstanding young entrepreneur.

Put it this way: if Yan Li were willing, from mid-November until Spring Festival, his evenings and lunchtimes would be fully booked, and he'd often have to rush between multiple events.

Even now, after carefully declining and turning down invitations, he has at least twenty days a month where he doesn't even consider going home for dinner.

Yan Li now looks at TV drama bosses who go home on time every day and wants to curse the screenwriters for having no real-life experience.

Bosses who live such comfortable lives either have bankrupt companies or have been stripped of power.

Yan Li doesn't actually dislike banquets—he often organizes them himself.

What he truly dislikes is that most banquets are useless networking—or at best, low-value, low-efficiency affairs.

But for various reasons, you can't avoid them; they bring no benefit, waste time, and drinking too much harms your health.

Sometimes Yan Li truly wants to shoot a drama and become an actor—not because he wants to act, but just to escape these useless banquets.

Whether acting counts as "neglecting one's duties" doesn't matter; at least it gives him a clear excuse to avoid everything else and find some peace.

…

The premiere ratings for "The White-Haired Witch" were decent, and the reception was acceptable.

In short, it didn't flop, but it didn't explode—solidly above average.

Yi'an was slightly disappointed, but still accepted it; besides, this was only the premiere—there would be reruns later.

Like last summer's "The Investiture of the Gods," though its premiere wasn't a smash, its rerun numbers and frequency ranked among the highest of all dramas this year.

Fan Xiaopang's popularity surged this year not just because of buzz—her role as Daji genuinely won her a large fanbase.

As always: face matters more than kingdom.

Since emphasizing her 【beauty】 as a key strength, Fan Xiaopang's potential has been maximized.

Even now, with "The White-Haired Witch," all promotional focus centers on Fan Xiaopang's face.

Yan Li even said: the drama can flop, but the person must be lifted up.

Lie a hundred thousand times and it becomes truth—Fan Xiaopang's beauty and fame can be deeply ingrained through marketing, let alone that she's naturally beautiful and already famous.

"The White-Haired Witch" still has considerable potential, but the film "Mo Gong" is mediocre.

In terms of box office, this film can't even be called a flop.

With an estimated 60 million yuan or more, it's poised to rank in the top five of 2006 domestic films, at least securing a top-ten spot.

But when weighed against its budget, the numbers look grim—this film was touted as costing over 100 million yuan.

Even if that figure is inflated, current box office suggests the film won't turn a profit—it might not even recoup its costs.

Not only did it bomb at the box office, but the reviews were terrible.

You wouldn't call it outright terrible—it's not as insulting to intelligence as "The Promise."

But the director tried to cram in too many ideas, the storytelling was chaotic, the film's artistic tone clashed with commercial expectations; it's not a total mess, but it's still not enjoyable.

A low-budget film can still profit even if it's unwatchable; a high-budget commercial film that's unwatchable will definitely flop.

Fortunately, the film flopped, but it's not Fan Xiaopang's fault.

Because Liu Tianwang is the lead and primary box office draw; after him comes the director; Fan Xiaopang, as the female lead, ranks even lower than Wang Zhiwen in blame.

Not only does she avoid blame—her team shamelessly markets a claim that her annual cumulative box office will surpass 100 million.

Besides "Mo Gong," she also starred in "The Tokyo Trial," released in September.

With nearly 25 million yuan from "The Tokyo Trial" and over 60 million from "Mo Gong," round it off—it's roughly 100 million.

Don't fear embarrassment; how can a star become famous without thick skin?

Even though "The Banquet" was trashed, Zhang Ziyi and Zhou's teams and fans still hyped their idols as "box office anchors."

Xu Jinglei, who appeared in "The Warlords," had less screen presence than Fan Xiaopang in "Mo Gong," yet she was still crowned a top-tier film diva.

Li Bingbing played the same game: in "Clouds of the South," she was third-billed, yet she buried her second-billed co-star Xu Ruoxuan, even overshadowing the male lead Chen Kun. These popular divas are all ruthless.

They master the tactics: snatching roles, suppressing roles, "the movie flopped, but I won." They fight on set, then fight each other.

The Four Little Divas fight among themselves, then Li Bingbing and Fan Xiaopang fight again, then Li Bingbing and Fan Xiaopang team up to drag down the lesser divas.

Fan Xiaopang's agent Jia Qian and Li Bingbing's sister Li Xue nearly cursed each other with voodoo dolls a few days ago; a few days later, they were on the phone nonstop, talking longer than lovers in the honeymoon phase.

Compared to the forced face-saving in film and TV, the album—originally just a trend-following move—made Fan Xiaopang the star of the 2006 year-end.

The album launches in December, but promotion and charting began in November.

Neither Yi'an nor Fan Xiaopang's team are skilled at music album distribution.

But everyone understands the real goal.

Selling albums for profit is secondary; the key is expanding and elevating Fan Xiaopang's fame and exposure, while solidifying and gaining fans.

Once the main goal is clear, it's simple.

Just spend money to get media and critics to praise it, buy a few fake charts and fake awards, and the album can be declared "nationwide sensation"—a total win.

But once charting began, Yi'an and Fan Xiaopang's team realized they didn't need to buy promotion or fake rankings.

After the two lead singles, "Invisible Wings" and "Cherry Grass," started charting.

With only normal promotion and Fan Xiaopang's existing popularity, and before even heavy resources were deployed, both songs skyrocketed up the charts.

Especially "Invisible Wings"—within a week, it climbed to the top of multiple charts.

TV and radio stations actively aired it; portal and music websites saw explosive growth in downloads.

Top ten!

Top five!

Third place!

Number one!!!

Before the "Just Begun" album officially launched, "Invisible Wings" reached number one on multiple music charts.

Online streaming and download rates remained high; music index rankings stayed in the top five; numerous music media and online features ran extensive coverage.

Fan Xiaopang, who had returned to the "The Legend of Yang Yuhuan" set, was urgently called back for a signing event and fan meeting.

Yi'an gradually upgraded the resource allocation for Fan Xiaopang's album, even prompting Yan Li to personally coordinate multiple resources.

For example, partnering with internet platforms to promote songs and MVs, organizing ground promotions through various channels, running offline campaigns, and engaging traditional media and platforms.

Traditional media, online promotion, physical channels, and offline outreach—all deployed together, letting this invisible wing fly higher and farther.

…

In Jinling, biting cold winds couldn't dampen the fans' passion.

Over a thousand fans who bought the album lined up for the signing; even more bystanders watched.

Fan Xiaopang's singing may not match professional singers, but her composure is unmatched.

Unfazed, she took the stage and delivered "Invisible Wings" flawlessly, earning thunderous applause and fans chanting her fan slogan in unison.

"Bing Bing Bang Bang, Bing Bing Bang Bang."

"Where Bing is, love endures."

"Bing Reigns Supreme, Irreplaceable."

「……」

Since "Super Girl" became popular, all celebrities developed similar fan group names.

Fan club for Fan Xiaopang is called 【Bingbang】, a pun on "bingbing bang," and some also call it 【Bingbang】, implying "buddy" or "soldier" of Bingbing.

Because Huang Xiaoming's fans formed a Ming Jiao, a small faction of fans created 【Bingbang】 for her and called her "Bangzhu."

But perhaps because "Jiaozhu" sounded better, this title never caught on.

Notably, Li Bingbing's fans are also called 【Bingbang】, with a slogan similar to Fan Xiaopang's.

As a result, when the two fanbases fought, it felt like two Bingbang factories clashing.

After the performance ended, Fan Xiaopang began signing autographs, working nonstop until noon, then skipped lunch and had several local interviews; in the afternoon she went to Suzhou, where her autograph session and meet-up would be even larger than in Nanjing.

Only by nightfall did Fan Xiaopang finally get a moment to rest and call Yan Li.

She'd been swamped these past few days—when her earlier films and TV dramas became popular, she'd never been this busy.

Everywhere she looked, there were her fans; interviews flooded in, online and offline, everything was about her and "Invisible Wings."

Fan Xiaopang couldn't help muttering: "If I'd known singing could make me this famous, I shouldn't have become an actress back then—I might've already become a diva."

"If you hadn't been an actress, you wouldn't be this famous."

Yan Li saw it clearly: the massive success of "Invisible Wings" was partly due to the song itself.

But it also owed much to massive promotional investment and Fan Xiaopang's own popularity.

An artist's popularity is interconnected: a popular singer acting in films boosts box office and ratings; a popular actor singing can drive album sales and song popularity.

This had precedent: Xiao Yanzi and Zhou Young Master both delivered strong musical performances.

Under her huge popularity, Xiao Yanzi's albums even outsold many top singers, and she released several albums herself.

Zhou Young Master's signature song "Drifting" was an annual blockbuster, outperforming many popular singers and hit songs.

"Invisible Wings" + popular Fan Xiaopang.

Perhaps the song's quality didn't improve, but its reach and buzz were maximized—not to mention the behind-the-scenes power of Yan Li, the media tycoon with vast networks.

Fan Xiaopang asked curiously: "How many albums have sold?"

"Distribution has already reached 300, 00 copies and is still soaring; 500, 00 shouldn't be a problem, but beyond that, it's hard to say."

"So few?"

"Sis, it's 2024 now—outside of fans and music lovers, who buys legitimate albums? Piracy is everywhere; you can download freely online, and now there are ringback tones too—500, 00 is already an incredible achievement."

The physical album market was being hammered from all sides.

Conservatively estimated, only a handful of albums sold over a million copies annually—only top-tier artists like Zhou Jielun and Cai Yinong, or a few super girls with extremely loyal fanbases.

For other singers, reaching over 300, 00 sales was extremely rare.

"Invisible Wings" was a hit song with a hit artist, but that didn't guarantee equally massive album sales.

After all, Fan Xiaopang's fans were mostly film fans and Yan fans, not many music fans; the album had only one or two hit singles, which affected overall sales.

But if the album didn't sell well, she could make up for it with ringback tones.

Album sales depended on people; ringback tones depended purely on songs—whichever song was popular earned the most.

Rumor had it that the singer of "Rat Loves Rice" earned over 10 million yuan in annual royalties from just that one song; for the super girls' ringback tone bundle license, Tianyu made 40 million yuan.

With "Invisible Wings" this popular, the ringback tone earnings wouldn't be bad—it could rake in a lot of money, possibly even more than the album.

Of course, compared to the album itself, the real money-maker was Fan Xiaopang.

"Invisible Wings" was the real wings, carrying Fan Xiaopang soaring high.

Yi'an Talent Agency had paused all ongoing advertising negotiations and planned to restart talks after New Year's Day.

They demanded a price increase of over 30%, contingent on the song's and album's future performance—if results were good, prices would rise further.

With the New Year and Spring Festival approaching, many commercial performances sought Fan Xiaopang, specifically requesting "Invisible Wings"; each performance's fee was at least 500, 00 yuan.

Previously, Fan Xiaopang had endorsed clothing and jewelry brands, with appearance fees between 250, 00 and 350, 00 yuan.

According to Yi'an Talent Agency, this one song, "Invisible Wings," could dramatically boost Fan Xiaopang's commercial value and market worth.

She was already valuable; adding one valuable song gave her dual fame as actress and singer, creating premium demand and high profits.

Earning for a lifetime might be exaggerated, but if this song stayed popular, it would let Fan Xiaopang live comfortably for years.

Moreover, as Fan Xiaopang's fame grew, so did the song's value.

Not only did Fan Xiaopang grin at this, but Yan Li even considered writing two more hit songs for Wang Ou.

"In a couple days, I'll have a meeting with a deputy head of CCTV—see if I can get you on the Spring Festival Gala."

The CCTV Spring Festival Gala would be highly beneficial for Fan Xiaopang.

But "Invisible Wings" was released too late—it was already nearing January, just days before the New Year; it might not make the cut.

Fortunately, the song was hot, so there was still a chance.

Appearing on the Gala wasn't just about exposure—it signified official recognition.

To be honest, Fan Xiaopang had been popular this year, but also faced plenty of controversy; the best way to reduce it was to appear on the biggest stage—the Spring Festival Gala.

Xiao Yanzi had used this tactic before, with good results; Yan Li wanted to emulate it.

Fan Xiaopang had been on the Gala once before, so she wasn't overly excited—she was more focused on another matter.

"If I go on the Gala, will you stay in Beijing with me for the New Year?"

Since meeting in winter 2002 during the filming of "Jubao Pen," they'd known each other for less than five years, yet had spent three New Years together.

The first was during the 2004 New Year of "The Seven Fairies," the second in 2005 when "The Seven Fairies" appeared on the Gala, "Double Ice on the Same Wall," the third in early 2006 on the Hengdian set, "Ice Orchid in Full Bloom."

If they spent this New Year together, it would be four consecutive years—more than Dong and Qin combined.

If Fan Xiaopang hadn't reminded him, Yan Li had never counted it this way.

He'd originally planned to take his parents to Sanya, but remembering how exhausted Fan Xiaopang had been this year—especially these past months, working nonstop—he realized she deserved some company.

Moreover, spending three New Years together had become a habit; breaking it would be a pity.

"Whether or not you go on the Gala, I'll spend the New Year with you."

Fan Xiaopang's heart warmed, then she remembered something and warned: "Just you and me—no messing around."

After all, she'd been "stacked" twice before—she couldn't be careless.

"Relax, this year I'll serve only you."

Yan Li did want to "stack," but feared scaring off the Spring Festival bonus—he'd rather wait a year, lower Fan Xiaopang's guard, then stack her next Spring Festival.

As for his parents, after the New Year, he and Fan Xiaopang would each return home—he'd take the elders out then.

…

Fan Xiaopang's new song's explosive popularity indirectly boosted the deal for "The White-Haired Witch."

Unfortunately, "Mo Gong" had passed its box office peak and faced competition from "Curse of the Golden Flower," gaining little advantage.

In December, the hottest song was "Invisible Wings," the hottest movie was "Curse of the Golden Flower."

Old Mo was truly Old Mo—no matter the controversy, his box office performance was undeniably powerful.

At the current trend, 200 million yuan was definitely not the ceiling.

It might even break the domestic box office record set by "Hero," and possibly even surpass "Titanic."

Previously, Chen, Zhang, and Feng—the three big mainland directors—each made a commercial blockbuster; Chen the Big Director pulled off a massive hit, Feng Xiaogang also got slapped in the face.

Old Mo's "Curse of the Golden Flower," though controversial, outperformed the other two directors in both quality and box office, achieving total victory.

Yan Li watched the movie's box office and influence with envy.

He'd long favored Old Mo—even endured the resentment from the earlier "New Picture" casting incident—and personally approached them seeking distribution cooperation.

But Zhang Boss of New Picture, used to monopolizing profits, ignored Yan Li completely.

Ignore him? Fine—business was full of such things—but his condescending attitude annoyed Yan Li.

Yan Li had dealt with many film industry bosses; each had flaws, but also strengths.

Even those he disliked, like Chengtian Wu and the two Wangs of Huayi, he acknowledged had their merits.

But Zhang Boss of New Picture—Yan Li had dealt with him twice, each time more irritating than the last.

Honestly, only Old Mo's reputation and the Olympic Opening Ceremony's prestige saved him—if not, Yan Li would've made his life hell.

Fuck it, I don't care about his reputation.

Boss Yan was famously petty; after returning home, he stewed in anger and immediately hired two media outlets to stir trouble.

Soon, "insiders" with a sense of justice leaked various behind-the-scenes secrets of "Curse of the Golden Flower."

For example, due to Zhou Jielun, the two Zhangs clashed creatively, forcing Old Mo to revise the script.

For example, the much-criticized golden armor and full-city chrysanthemums originated from Zhang Boss's idea; the art director nearly quit.

For example, Zhang Boss orchestrated fake news of Gong Li and Zhou Runfa slapping each other, angering both stars, forcing Old Mo to take the blame and issue a public apology.

Several actors had their own issues.

Zhou Runfa demanded luxury hotels and RVs, costing huge daily expenses; following Hollywood rules for overtime pay, he demanded tens of thousands per hour, forcing the crew to cut scenes.

Gong Li felt the Empress role was thin and demanded more scenes; because the golden armor restricted movement, she once refused to perform action scenes, forcing the crew to compromise.

Zhou Jielun's team was large; to prevent paparazzi, they rented an entire hotel floor, barred outsiders, improvised lines, and drove the screenwriter to quit.

Liu Huohua suffered worst—his role was drastically cut; originally the male second lead, he was reduced to a marginal figure by the two Zhous.

Additionally, there were anonymous reports of paint damage to crew members during the Golden Hall scene, millions of chrysanthemums air-freighted, wasteful spending, Zhangs clashing repeatedly, and Old Mo claiming the film was a money-corrupted work.

These secrets, except for a few previously rumored, were known only to the crew.

Upon seeing the leaks, the "Curse of the Golden Flower" crew's first move wasn't denial—it was finding the mole.

When they failed to find the mole, suspicion spiraled.

The leaked big-name actors suspected Zhang Boss had leaked it intentionally—he had a history of such behavior and had previously clashed with several teams, even publicly criticized Zhou Runfa.

Zhang Boss suspected Old Mo was targeting him, since the leaks focused most on him.

The notoriously hot-tempered and gossipy Boss Zhang launched the first attack, blaming everyone from Old Master to the actors to the entire crew.

Brother Fa isn't easygoing; though he didn't show his face himself, his wife stepped in to confront Boss Zhang head-on.

Gong Li and Boss Zhang had old grievances—when she broke up with Old Master, this guy had surely stirred trouble behind the scenes, so she joined the project without hesitation.

Zhou Jielun stayed silent, but his fans weren't to be trifled with—they wrecked the website hosting the new footage.

Seeing this, Boss Zhang didn't back down; instead, he escalated his attacks, even forcing the mild-mannered Old Master to speak out publicly and admit that parts of the script had been interfered with.

In short, The Golden Chicken was a mess, with endless conflicts.

It did, however, give box office performance a certain boost, since the hype attracted some viewers.

But for New Vision, it caused significant negative fallout—many popular actors now held unfavorable views of Boss Zhang and his company.

Even if there are disputes, you don't tear each other apart like this—that's not how the industry operates.

Anyone thinking of collaborating with him in the future will have to think twice about whether they'll get covered in shit.

More importantly, the rift between the two Zhangs is widening—and that's the most dangerous part.

…

"Boss Zhang, I'm afraid I'm talking too much—it sounds like I'm stirring things up—but honestly, no one else would do something like this. I feel so sorry for you. If we ever collaborate… I'm saying too much, I'm saying too much."

"Haha, thank goodness Boss Zhang didn't hire me back then—if he had, given my temper, I'd have gone straight for his throat on set."

"What? Didn't you reject me? I heard you didn't want me. I see. No problem, I understand."

"Boss Zhang, you're my senior, one of my favorite directors—I'm just going to speak up. Listen if you want to, ignore it if you don't."

"Boss Zhang isn't a good man. If you have other plans, always keep a backup card—better safe than sorry."

"…"

Yan Li hung up the call, one meant to sow discord and win over Old Master.

The intent was obvious, but it didn't matter—many others coveted Old Master too. Rather than hiding it, better to be direct.

Yan Li had only wanted to vent, but he hadn't expected such a strong reaction. When he realized the rift between the two Zhangs was growing wider, he pulled out his hoe.

Old Master is a true commercial powerhouse—a director who makes money, delivers high output, and commands immense reputation and influence.

With such a renowned director on board, the company gains countless advantages—even its stock price could surge.

At this stage, the two haven't fully broken ties. Yan Li plans to lay more groundwork, maintain frequent contact, and step forward the moment an opportunity arises.

Old Master is a man who values loyalty and sentiment. Throwing money alone won't work—emotion plus incentive is the right path…

————

PS: Ten thousand words (4000/7000)

(End of Chapter)