Chapter 261

Yan Li's New Drama Airing, Chronicling the Legendary Life of Xue Rengui

National Ratings Break 3%, Yan Li and Li Bing Star in a Tang Dynasty Love Story

Sensational in Jinling: "The Legend of Xue Rengui" Hits Nearly 10% Ratings in Jinling and Other Regions, Peak Episode Rating Around 13%

Blog Views Surge as Yan Li's New Drama Goes Viral, Cementing His Status as "Hottest Young Actor"

New Favorite of Film and TV Industry: Multiple Projects Invite Yan Li to Star, Including Works by Renowned Directors

……

With the drama's popularity, news reports flooded in, and Yan Li's name surged into the spotlight, enjoying a wave of celebrity exposure.

Yan Li had received plenty of exposure before, but mostly behind-the-scenes or gossip-related; this time, it felt more like a proper artist, with numerous reports on his acting career.

This was both advantageous and disadvantageous for Yan Li.

The advantage was greater fame.

As previously noted, not everyone enjoys gossip or financial news; Yan Li was well-known, but many still didn't know him.

But the drama's explosive success gave him another channel for recognition—perhaps they didn't know his name was Yan Li, but after watching, they knew he was Xue Rengui.

Moreover, Xue Rengui's positive on-screen image significantly enhanced Yan Li's personal image.

Especially Xue Rengui's heroic, rugged appearance and demeanor won him a large number of female fans and young admirers.

As always, the character and the actor are sometimes hard to separate.

Especially for ordinary viewers and younger audiences, they instinctively merge the TV character with the real person.

Disliking the character leads to disliking the actor; liking the character leads to liking the actor.

Since Xue Rengui was beloved, these viewers and fans extended that affection to Yan Li himself.

In the future, as they learn more, some may be disappointed and leave—or even turn hostile—while others will stay and become diehard fans.

After all, aside from lifestyle issues, Yan Li's overall conditions were impressive—perfect tools for attracting fans in the entertainment industry.

The downside was that he drew significant attention, bringing some inconvenience to his personal life.

Yan Li used to encounter fans or people who recognized him when going out, but now the frequency had increased dramatically.

Even the property management of Yi'an Company's office building had hired additional security personnel to maintain order.

Also, during social engagements, clients and friends would tease him, asking for autographs and such; Yan Li didn't mind, dismissing it all as jealousy.

My buddy's famous—you can't even get famous.

Yan Li didn't say it aloud, but he did enjoy this moment of skyrocketing popularity.

He was an actor by training; of course, he had that vanity.

When not busy, Yan Li would deliberately leave through the main entrance to sign autographs for fans; his bag always carried signed photos and DVDs, and the day before, he had even attended a film award ceremony as a presenter.

In Dong Xuan's words, Yan Li was like a sack on fire—showing off.

"Dong Teacher, such harsh wording—how are you supposed to be a role model?"

Yan Li strongly protested Dong Xuan's remark; Fan Xiaopang had joined the cast of "The Investiture of the Gods 2," Qin Lan was busy promoting "The Imperial Harem of the Great Qing," and Wang Ou and the others were all occupied; since returning to Beijing, Yan Li had mostly stayed at Dong Xuan's place.

"You're not my student, are you?"

Dong Xuan rolled her eyes, but Yan Li disagreed: "Who says that? I've taken plenty of Dong Teacher's physiology classes in private…"

Before he finished, Dong Xuan clapped her hand over his mouth: "Don't say nonsense—someone hears this, how am I ever going to live?"

"Why didn't you worry about that during class?"

Yan Li teased again; seeing Dong Xuan about to snap, he finally put on his own clothes.

"Alright, you play around. I've got a dinner engagement tonight—I'll probably get back after ten."

"Drink less."

Dong Xuan stepped forward to straighten his collar, then suddenly remembered something.

"Guan Yue asked me to find her a role—any role, she just wants to get out and clear her head."

Yan Li understood: after the Spring Festival, Guan Yue and Tong Dawei officially broke up; Guan Yue was in poor shape and unsuitable to continue teaching, so she planned to shoot a drama, leave Beijing, and change her mood.

"Alright, I'll mention it later."

Yi'an now produced, invested in, and distributed many dramas, and could influence several sets; barring unreasonable demands, arranging a role was just one word from Yan Li.

Even without Yan Li, Dong Xuan could handle it privately—mentioning it to him was just for formality.

After Yan Li left, Dong Xuan called Guan Yue and learned the latter was drinking alone at home, accompanied by her old classmate Yin Xu.

Yin Xu had once been Dong Xuan's best friend besides Guan Yue during university; though they'd grown somewhat distant over the past two years due to various reasons, they'd never lost contact.

Notably, Yin Xu was the first among the three to get married.

Last year, she married Zhang Ziyi's older brother, Zhang Zinan; Guan Yue and Dong Xuan attended the wedding and nearly became bridesmaids.

After marrying, Yin Xu became pregnant and gave birth to a daughter, paused her career, and focused on family.

Upon hearing this, Dong Xuan drove over to Guan Yue's place; the latter was already slightly drunk, while Yin Xu, needing to return home to care for her child, hadn't drunk.

Seeing Dong Xuan, Yin Xu—who hadn't seen her in a while—chatted about recent life; both felt a sense of nostalgia.

Dong Xuan remained the same: stable relationship with Yan Li, stable career.

When busy, she acted; when not, she taught; from 2004 to now, she was about to complete three years at Beijing Film Academy, and her part-time graduate studies were nearly finished.

That meant, after summer vacation, Dong Xuan would officially become a full professor at Beijing Film Academy, not just an assistant, and her degree would upgrade from bachelor's to master's.

Yin Xu's situation was more complicated.

How to put it? After graduation, she'd done fairly poorly—few dramas, though most Beijing Film Academy graduates were the same.

Someone like Dong Xuan, who starred as a lead before graduation and had steadily progressed since, was truly rare.

Though her career stalled, Yin Xu excelled in romance, attracting intense pursuit from Zhang Zinan, Zhang Ziyi's older brother.

At the time, Zhang Zinan wasn't doing badly—he was his sister's agent; as the hottest reigning diva, Zhang Ziyi earned handsomely, and as her agent and brother, Zhang Zinan's income and resources were substantial.

Yin Xu couldn't resist the pursuit and married Zhang Zinan, who was ten years older.

But after marrying into the Zhang family, Yin Xu realized she'd been deceived.

Zhang Zinan had no real ability—he lived off his sister; that was bad enough, but worse, he was trouble-prone and had caused Zhang Ziyi many problems before.

So although Zhang Zinan was nominally his sister's agent, most of her business had already been taken from him and handed to professional teams.

Put bluntly, Zhang Zinan had nothing but a good name—he had no money or resources.

Though she was famously Zhang Ziyi's sister-in-law, her entire family depended on Zhang Ziyi; she couldn't assert herself toward her sister-in-law, and even had to watch her every move.

Yin Xu's growing distance from Dong Xuan and Guan Yue stemmed partly from this.

Yan Li, of course, was the top bachelor in the industry; Tong Dawei was a rising young star; but she'd chosen the worst man—always feeling she couldn't hold her head up.

Now, with Guan Yue and Tong Dawei breaking up, Yin Xu suddenly showed concern for her old classmate.

Dong Xuan didn't want to assume the worst, but Yin Xu's behavior was suspicious.

Even Guan Yue sensed it; as soon as Yin Xu left, she spoke gloomily.

"You didn't come to visit me—you came to laugh at me."

Hate those who have, laugh at those who don't!

Even if they'd been close in university, human nature was too complex.

Not just Yin Xu—even between Guan Yue and Dong Xuan, who were so close, they'd sometimes envied or resented each other, though they never dared examine it closely.

Dong Xuan said nothing, only quietly poured Guan Yue another glass of wine: "Try to let go."

Guan Yue smiled bitterly—it was impossible to let go. Years of emotion, investment, expectations, dreams—all turned to dust. She was still only drinking alone; that alone showed remarkable mental strength.

"I've fallen—don't let yourself fall too."

Guan Yue took a sip and turned to advise Dong Xuan; only after losing something could you truly appreciate it.

Yan Li was even more desirable than Tong Dawei; Dong Xuan had given more than she had; if he ended up with someone else, she'd die with her eyes shut.

"Alright, stop worrying about that."

Dong Xuan pursed her lips, comforted Guan Yue for a while longer, then helped her to bed and prepared to leave—only to hear a horn blast outside: Yan Li's car.

Dong Xuan opened the door and got in: "Why are you here?"

"The event ended early, I didn't drink, going home was pointless, so I came to pick you up—shh, look over there."

Yan Li briefly explained, then pointed to a shadow in the distance among the trees.

Dong Xuan stared for a while, couldn't recognize it: "Who is that?"

"Dawei, of course."

Dong Xuan stared again, still couldn't tell—it was too far, and the person was fully wrapped up; she truly didn't recognize Tong Dawei.

"It's him—I saw his car outside the compound."

Dong Xuan perked up: "So Tong Dawei doesn't want to break up?"

Yan Li rubbed his chin: "Probably. I've been here over ten minutes—he's been pacing below the building, but never went up. Probably hesitating or feeling guilty."

Earlier, Guan Yue issued her final ultimatum; he didn't respond, and they broke up.

Now that it's done, he's realized the pain and wants to reconcile—but for some reason, he hasn't dared act.

"What should we do?"

Dong Xuan pulled out her phone: "I'll call Guan Yue, tell her to come down."

Yan Li shook his head: "Don't rush. Let's wait. If he wants to win her back, he'll act. If he's still hesitating, your rush will scare him off."

"Besides, since Guan Yue broke up with him, the power lies with her. Now's the time to stretch him out, build up the pressure, and break him completely."

Yan Li spoke with such logic that Dong Xuan was baffled: "Aren't you on his side? Why are you advising Guan Yue now?"

"I'm on the side of justice."

Yan Li smirked: "This guy made you worry a lot—giving him a taste of his own medicine is just payback."

Dong Xuan was speechless, but still called Guan Yue to warn her.

If you want to get revenge, there'll be plenty of ways later—right now, since they're showing signs of reconciliation, you must push them together quickly, or else they'll break up for good, and it'll be too late to regret.

When Guan Yue heard Tong Dawei had come, her tone grew excited—clearly, she'd been holding back her emotions.

But she didn't specify how to proceed; Dong Xuan wanted to ask, but Yan Li stopped her.

"This far is enough. What comes next isn't something outsiders can meddle in."

Yan Li muttered under his breath, then drove off. On the way, Dong Xuan fidgeted anxiously, unable to resist asking.

"If it were us having a fight, and you were in Tong Dawei's position right now, what would you do?"

"I'd never stand outside like an idiot waiting."

Yan Li first criticized Tong Dawei's approach, then paused, put himself in his shoes, and finally spoke a few words.

"Go upstairs, open the door, take off your clothes, and sleep her into submission."

Dong Xuan: "..."

She couldn't help cursing him as a pervert, but Yan Li remained calm: "Husbands and wives fight in bed and make up in bed."

Tong Dawei simply isn't tough enough!

He's not tough in body, not tough in tactics, not tough in heart—if he'd managed even two of these three, he wouldn't be in such a miserable, stuck position.

Given today's scene, he should've gritted his teeth and stormed upstairs—even if he couldn't win her over outright, he could've broken the ice. Far better than pacing like a caged animal downstairs.

He's already split his legs wide open—now's not the time to be shy. Playing the tragic lover won't get him anywhere.

"I don't know whether I'm lucky or unlucky."

Watching Yan Li look so confident, Dong Xuan couldn't help sighing.

If she was lucky, she wouldn't have to endure the mutual torment Guan Yue and Tong Dawei went through—she just had to wait while Yan Li handled things.

If she was unlucky, she'd be trapped under this bastard's control for life, completely at his mercy.

"Then you're definitely lucky."

Yan Li said boldly, taking Dong Xuan's small hand and gently stroking it. "Got any sunflower seeds at home? Buy some—we'll have gossip to listen to when Guan Yue calls you tonight."

"You're so boring."

Dong Xuan complained, then added: "We've got sunflower seeds, but I want pistachios—and some chips too."

"..."

Yan Li shook his head: "Guan Yue's lucky to have you as a best friend—she's the one with bad luck."

Later, Yan Li learned that Tong Dawei still chickened out that night—paced around for hours, then left.

Though he didn't go upstairs, it wasn't useless. Standing frozen for hours created a tragic effect and softened Guan Yue's heart toward him.

Still, Guan Yue didn't agree to reconcile—she was using the moment to test his intentions and set conditions.

After being frozen out all night, Tong Dawei finally understood—he began courting Guan Yue, visiting her school regularly with food and drinks. Even Dong Xuan got free breakfasts.

At this point, Yan Li stopped caring about the details.

Their chances of reconciliation were high—it was just a matter of negotiating terms.

Yan Li guessed Guan Yue might seize the chance to marry Tong Dawei, sealing the deal so no one else could interfere.

That might not be good for Yan Li—Guan Yue marrying her best friend could trigger something in Dong Xuan.

As previously mentioned, Dong Xuan's career was growing more stable; she was about to become a full-time teacher at Beijing Film Academy, with reduced workload and greater security.

In short, she had more free time to think about Yan Li.

And Dong Xuan wasn't young anymore—she was already twenty-seven, one year older than Yan Li, and fast approaching thirty.

Though society now promotes late marriage and childbearing, and the entertainment industry has become more open, many people's thinking hasn't changed.

There's a popular term now: "leftover men and women"—generally referring to unmarried adults, with "advanced age" meaning over thirty, sometimes even twenty-five to thirty.

Yan Li usually avoided this topic altogether, dodging and deflecting—but even he couldn't shield himself from the shock of Guan Yue, his best friend, getting married.

"Damn it."

If it weren't so immoral, Yan Li would've sabotaged Tong and Guan's reconciliation himself—this was just adding to his troubles.

By contrast, the Teddy Sisters were more helpful—Li Xiao and Li Chen were in a fierce fight, letting Qin Lan see the true nature of "honest men," which boosted Yan Li's standing.

That's more like it!

Yan Li hoped Li Chen would hold out longer—give Li Xiao a real lesson, not turn out as weak as Tong Dawei.

————

In late February, Yan Li took time to visit the soon-to-open Phoenix Dance Studio.

After all, it was Wang Ou, Wu Jiani, and Yang Rong's project—especially Wu Jiani, who'd worked tirelessly inside and out, pouring her heart into it. Yan Li had to come see it.

The Phoenix Dance Studio wasn't large, but every detail of its decor was refined and luxurious, fitting its mid-to-high-end positioning—quality over quantity.

Yan Li checked the dance instructors—all graduates of Beijing Dance Academy, two of whom were also part-time performers with national dance troupes. The lineup was impressive.

But the best part was the three bosses: Wang, Wu, and Yang, as executives and honorary instructors, would be Phoenix's biggest draw.

"How's enrollment going?"

Yan Li sat on Wu Jiani's office sofa, curious. She closed the door, pulled the curtains, and sat beside him.

"We started recruiting during winter break—about twenty students so far, mostly short-term trial enrollments."

It was a new studio with high fees; even with celebrity appeal, parents still preferred to wait and watch.

Yan Li thought: "I think you should broaden your thinking—not just rely on celebrity status for recruitment, but expand your resources."

"Expand how?"

Wu Jiani didn't follow. Yan Li looked at her: "Of course, expand your resources."

"I don't know dance, but you know competitions and all that. But beyond dance, you have film and TV connections."

"Students who come here could be recommended by you for roles in Yi'an's dramas and films."

"Big roles? Hard to promise. But child roles or dance-specific supporting parts—I'll make a call. Who you use is who you use—why not use your own?"

"Learning dance plus a chance to act—that's your studio's advantage."

"..."

This tactic wasn't unique to Yan Li—many children's arts training institutions did the same.

The most famous example was Shichahai Martial Arts School, now a cradle for kung fu stars.

Many parents sent their kids there hoping they'd become the next Li Lianjie.

Many child actors landed TV roles early—not just by luck or family connections, but through such institutions.

Many dance students wanted to pursue art; even more wanted fame and to enter the industry.

With this shortcut, Phoenix Dance Studio could attract many students.

In the future, if it grew, it could expand into acting, modeling, vocal training—even child star management.

"This..."

Wu Jiani hesitated. She just wanted to run a dance studio, teach dance, make some money—no big ambitions. Yan Li's idea caught her off guard.

"I'm just throwing it out there—use it as a gimmick to attract students. You don't have to go all out."

Seeing her unease, Yan Li reassured her. He had a professional habit: whenever he saw a business, he thought how to scale it up.

In truth, if Wu Jiani had the ability and guts, she wouldn't need side jobs—she could climb straight up in entertainment.

"Don't stress too much. Go at your own pace. If you lose money, lose money."

Yan Li smoothed Wu Jiani's slightly furrowed brow. She was the studio's lead—she carried pressure.

"Mm-hmm."

Feeling the warmth of Yan Li's fingers, Wu Jiani leaned her forehead against his palm, savoring the intimacy.

Yan Li paused, then pulled her close. She kissed him passionately.

Among Yan Li's women, Wu Jiani had low visibility and wasn't particularly favored—he treated her with average care.

But she was content, especially after Yan Li funded her dance studio. She became especially obedient, readily cooperating when he paired her with Wang Ou.

Now, with the studio's grand opening approaching, and hearing Yan Li's thoughtful advice and reassurance about the business, Wu Jiani's emotions surged.

"Stay with me tonight."

"Okay."

Even if busy, Yan Li never spoiled a mood—but that didn't stop him from securing his own benefits.

As the silent owner, he needed to inspect the quality of the dancewear...

Apartment, bedroom

Wu Jiani's new apartment was just one building away from Wang Ou's—making it extremely convenient for "Ouniang."

Unfortunately, Wang Ou wasn't in Beijing now, so Wu Jiani bore the storm alone.

Still, Wu Jiani didn't forget her Ojie—she called Wang Ou during this time.

Yan Li: "..."

Others might be questionable, but this girl was definitely corrupted by Wang Ou.

On the phone, Wang Ou flew into a rage, vowing to punish Wu Jiani when she returned.

Yan Li would soon head to Hengdian to film "The Investiture of the Gods 2." Wang Ou would join after finishing "The Great Qing Harem," then it would be Wu Jiani's turn.

The two were the "Two Demons of Xuan Yuan"—their roles in "The Investiture of the Gods 2" were unavoidable.

Due to script revisions, their scenes with Yan Li and Fan Xiaopang were reduced, but they still had some—so they'd inevitably meet soon.

Facing Wang Ou's threats, Wu Jiani whimpered and clung to Yan Li for help.

Clearly, her mood and energy were good today—normally, Wang Ou bullied her, and she rarely provoked her back.

Letting the two bicker, Yan Li continued with his own work; only after Wu Jiani's voice went hoarse did he ask about the promotion of "The Qing Court Harem."

This drama follows "The Legend of Xue Rengui," with an interval of no more than a week.

Although its selling price was lower than the former, its broadcast across four satellite channels gave it considerable momentum.

Because Wang Ou, the company's second sister, and company artists like Qiao Zhenyu and Zhang Zhilin starred in it, Yan Li took this drama seriously.

If "The Qing Court Harem" became a hit, it could add several more money trees to the company.

Wang Ou's voice sounded slightly resentful, but she still honestly reported the promotion progress and complained about Qin Lan and Hu Siyan.

As for Qin Lan, she dared not file a formal complaint—she only hinted at it.

Hu Siyan, however, seized every opportunity to nag endlessly, even accusing her of wasting money if she ate one extra tea egg for breakfast.

Yan Li didn't need to ask—he knew this woman had likely been wronged by Hu Siyan and Qin Lan, especially Hu Siyan; otherwise, her bitterness wouldn't run so deep.

"Alright, I'll get you back someday."

Yan Li cut off Wang Ou's rambling, but she was quick: "How exactly are you going to get me back?"

"Didn't I just say? Someday."

Wang Ou: "..."

Forget it, just take it out on me instead—don't let that little dwarf off the hook...

In early March, the plot of "The Legend of Xue Rengui" had aired halfway; after the setup arcs were completed, it finally entered its climax phase.

Especially the series of scenes after Ying Mengxianchen assumed office—purely exhilarating—and drove the drama's ratings steadily upward; though it didn't break 4%, it was close.

Even more pleasantly surprising was its strong rerun performance.

Beyond the initial satellite broadcast, local and county-level channels nationwide delivered strong rerun ratings; one provincial channel in Jiangxi even outperformed all other prime-time dramas in rerun viewership, ranking number one in its time slot.

This showed that "The Legend of Xue Rengui" was not a fleeting hit but possessed significant long-tail effects.

As is well known, dramas with high long-tail effects best elevate actors' profiles and generate profits over longer periods.

This also attracted several satellite channels to bid for second- and third-round broadcast rights, at substantial prices.

Roughly estimated, if all parties proceed smoothly, "The Legend of Xue Rengui" could bring Yi'an approximately 20 million yuan in profit.

Another noteworthy point: Yan Li's fee had risen significantly.

Previously, Yan Li's fee was influenced by many external factors, inflated beyond typical actor rates; but since his roles had limited screen time and he led his own projects, he often accepted only a friend's discount.

But after "The Legend of Xue Rengui," Yan Li had a genuine hit as a male lead, and his fee now aligned with market standards.

For TV dramas: 50, 00 to 80, 00 yuan per episode; for films: 800, 00 to 1, 00, 00 yuan.

This wasn't Yan Li's guesswork—it was calculated based on market evaluations and the offers he received from production teams.

Of course, this refers to normal offers; there were also numerous chaotic teams offering over 100, 00 yuan per episode or multi-million-yuan package deals.

Yan Li even received one offer for a ten-million-yuan fee.

Sounds great, but that production team actually planned to use Yan Li's name to raise funds, rebrand the project as his own, and give him 10 million yuan.

In short, they were freeloaders—splitting the money among themselves and leaving Yan Li with the mess.

Worse still, some even tried dragging him into money-laundering schemes; all these tricks opened Yan Li's eyes to the industry's underbelly, thanks to his system.

He had never planned to join other projects; now he was even more cautious.

Not only did he refuse lead roles—even Yu Pangzi and Huayi's requests to appear in their dramas during this windfall went unanswered; he focused entirely on consolidation.

————

ps: (0/41000)

(End of Chapter)