Chapter 269

After finishing the filming of "Fengshen Bang 2," Yan Li's work has been scattered.

Meetings, assignments, social engagements, event appearances, site visits, interviews—miscellaneous tasks left Yan Li sometimes unsure of what he was even busy with.

But that's how work is: you can't socialize forever, can't always stay at the company, and can't never go on location.

Fortunately, there are only so many events and site visits to attend, and after selecting interviews, the remaining ones aren't many; specific work and social obligations are unavoidable, but after a period of hustle, things gradually stabilized.

In early April, Yan Li went on a location assignment to participate in one episode of the program "Person in Dream of the Red Chamber."

"Person in Dream of the Red Chamber" is the casting variety show for "New Dream of the Red Chamber," organized by Jingcheng TV and the company behind "New Dream of the Red Chamber."

One of the program's directors is Hu Mei, the director of "New Dream of the Red Chamber."

Yan Li came this time partly out of respect for Hu Mei—she had been something of a mentor to him, casting him in "Emperor Wu of Han."

Though Yan Li was already on the rise back then, Hu Mei's status as a mentor carried some watered-down value, yet there remained a bond of goodwill, and Yan Li always showed Director Hu respect.

This time, Director Hu asked him to come lend support; since he had time, Yan Li showed up to make an appearance.

But once he arrived, he realized Hu Mei hadn't invited him just to make a cameo as a variety show guest.

Yan Li had heard of the "New Dream of the Red Chamber" project.

It was somewhat like "Red Cliff" mentioned earlier—high investment, wide scope, complex internal and behind-the-scenes composition.

It was said that as early as 2001, someone had wanted to launch this project; it wasn't until 2003 that official authorization was obtained from relevant authorities, followed by years of preparation and bickering, and it wasn't until 2005 that it finally got underway.

In early 2006, amid the nationwide popularity of talent shows, the "New Dream of the Red Chamber" crew also wanted to ride the trend and launch a talent-show-style casting process.

The plan was actually decent—the 1987 version of "Dream of the Red Chamber" had also carried a hint of talent-show selection.

Actors were recruited nationwide, screened through multiple rounds using various methods, then concentrated for training, ultimately producing the most classic version of "Dream of the Red Chamber."

Now, times are different: the foundational conditions are better than back then, and it can generate profit while promoting the drama.

But there's one prerequisite: the selection must be genuine, and the chosen actors must actually be used.

More crucially, that prerequisite doesn't exist.

Perhaps it existed at first, but as the show began and gained influence, it inevitably became affected by various parties, and the entire program lost its original flavor.

According to Yan Li's understanding, Hu Mei, as chief director, had clashed repeatedly with the production company and Jingcheng TV over casting, creating a certain rift.

The production company and Jingcheng TV had considered replacing her; Director Hu had even declared she would start anew, filming "New New Dream of the Red Chamber" with her preferred actors.

Yan Li was invited this time not because Hu Mei wanted him to bring investment, but because she somewhat intended to use his influence as a warning to the production company.

After all, Yi'an has people, money, and channels; Hu Mei's crew and actors are already in place; if the two sides cooperate and smooth out a few connections, they might actually seize control of the project.

But they overestimated—Yan Li had no real interest in the "New Dream of the Red Chamber" project.

One reason: it's too complex, involving too many facets, and has been operating for years.

If Yan Li were to take it over, not to mention reputation, the cost and the number of people he'd offend would be excessive—completely uneconomical, with abysmal cost-benefit ratio.

Another reason: he himself isn't particularly drawn to the "Dream of the Red Chamber" subject matter.

This is evident from Yan Li's personality and background: he's read all Four Great Classical Novels, but "Dream of the Red Chamber" is the only one he never finished reading—though, of course, the original text itself was never "completed."

This project requires heavy investment and wide scope; Yan Li can't possibly be a passive investor.

But if he himself isn't passionate about the subject, how can he possibly make the project succeed?

Another reason: considering Yan Li's reputation, if he gets involved in an adaptation rich in classical literature and female actors, who knows what rumors might surface.

The "Dream of the Red Chamber" could become the "Yan's Dream of the Red Chamber," and the Twelve Beauties of Jin Ling could turn into the Twelve Beauties of Xiao Yanzhi—entirely possible.

Yan Li never doubts the online crowd of gossip-seekers and haters' ability to fabricate rumors in such matters.

So overall, the "New Dream of the Red Chamber" project is a thankless burden for Yan Li—he won't get involved, and he can't possibly get involved.

If he truly craved the influence of the Four Great Classical Novels, he wasn't limited to just "Dream of the Red Chamber."

In fact, Yan Li had already considered a Four Great Classical Novels project last year.

Even Yongle had raised it earlier than him—because of the success of "Fengshen Bang," Cheng Lidong was eyeing "Journey to the West."

Yan Li didn't compete with him; he thought "Journey to the West" was hard to film, difficult to launch new actors, and prone to being compared with the 1986 version.

Perhaps he could participate a little, place a few actors, but taking full control wasn't necessary, and Yi'an was already stretched too thin.

So Yan Li turned his attention to "Romance of the Three Kingdoms" and "Water Margin."

The actor-launching effect would surely be better than leading with "Journey to the West," but whether the launched actors would have commercial value was debatable.

But Yan Li was certain: such influential works, with sufficient investment, would absolutely attract fierce bidding from TV networks, and could even become a drama king that breaks market ceilings.

Moreover, such large-scale productions bring many benefits to the company itself.

Including production experience and talent, the company's influence both externally and within the industry—in plain terms, making such dramas could generate several clean, impressive financial reports for an IPO.

But even just two dramas would be too much for Yi'an to handle alone.

Not because they couldn't handle it, but because it was neither necessary nor wise for one company to shoulder all the funding and risk—bringing in partners was essential.

In Yan Li's mind, if they truly wanted to film these two dramas, and the scale was decent, 100 million was the bare minimum.

For something like "New Romance of the Three Kingdoms," with its massive battle scenes, 100 million might not even be enough.

In today's TV market, where 50 million is considered a big-budget production, a project of this scale can't be decided on a whim.

Yan Li only had plans and thoughts—he hadn't decided whether to film them, or how to film them; it all needed careful deliberation.

Just look at the current mess of "New Dream of the Red Chamber"—it's likely the lowest-cost of the Four Great Classical Novels, yet it's turned into utter chaos.

The other Three Great Classical Novels involve even broader scope and greater influence; their complications are far worse.

…

Though Yan Li knew full well the hidden schemes behind "New Dream of the Red Chamber," he refused to get involved, so he resorted to playing dumb.

He claimed to know nothing, understand nothing, and had simply come at Hu Mei's invitation to lend support.

If any rumors surfaced, he would clarify or explain as needed.

Then, his old connection with Director Hu would be essentially spent—at least, if she ever asked him for help again, Yan Li wouldn't be so quick to agree.

Honestly, Yan Li's current status and fame have been leveraged and exploited countless times—he's grown accustomed to it.

But he came to help out of old friendship and good intentions; at least you could've warned me ahead of time.

Others' thoughts didn't matter—he himself felt uneasy.

After recording the show, Hu Mei still wanted to invite Yan Li to dinner, but Yan Li found an excuse to politely decline.

Yet before his return car had gone far, another call came in; after a moment's hesitation, Yan Li told the driver to change course.

A certain restaurant

Yan Li shook hands with a short middle-aged man: "Sun Si, which immortal dragged you here as a go-between?"

"Acquaintance, acquaintance."

Sun Si led Yan Li into a private room; Yan Li smiled when he saw the two people sitting inside.

"I thought it was who—got Sun Si to come all this way? Wang Director, we've known each other for ages; why go through all this trouble?"

Wang Director of Jingcheng TV, primarily responsible for film and television investment and production, was also an old colleague of Sun Si's—the latter had once worked at Jingcheng TV before moving to the Propaganda Department.

Yan Li had dealt with Sun Si many times; he knew Wang Director well enough to just make direct appointments—no need for a middleman.

He looked at the other man and understood what was going on—he recognized him: a senior executive of Hualu Bainai.

Hualu Bainai, though not famous, was in fact extremely powerful, backed by a central state-owned enterprise—rich and influential—and it was also the primary producer of The New Dream of the Red Chamber.

Yan Li himself was slightly surprised by his own clout; they'd barely finished recording the show, and they were already knocking on his door.

But Yan Li didn't care—he had no guilty conscience, so he wasn't afraid of ghosts knocking at his door. He'd speak plainly, unafraid of probes or schemes.

In fact, Yan Li began to think about Hualu Bainai's executive.

If they were willing to invest in The New Dream of the Red Chamber, were they interested in The New Three Kingdoms or The New Water Margin?

Yi An's production team and resource channels were far superior to Hu Mei's.

Yan Li had always been sharp, and years of experience had honed him—this kind of situation was nothing.

In a few words, he distanced himself, making it clear he had no intention of getting involved—yet left no opening for blame; how they interpreted it was their own business—he said nothing.

Once the misunderstanding was cleared up, the atmosphere grew livelier; after dinner, they moved to a second venue.

Besides the original few, there was also the director of The Dream of the Red Chamber Contest and several more ambitious contestants.

Yan Li was impressed—everyone said backstage at talent shows was messy, but he hadn't expected The Dream of the Red Chamber Contest to be this way; how could such contestants possibly portray Lin Daiyu and Xue Baochai?

The contestants hadn't expected Yan Li to be there; their ambition surged even higher.

Among those present, no one matched Yan Li's stature!

Even if The Dream of the Red Chamber Contest flopped, just being associated with him offered plenty of chances for fame.

Only a few contestants showed up, yet three Misses crowded around Yan Li—and one guy too.

Yan Li remembered two clearly: one named Lan Yan, graduated from Shanghai Theatre Academy, like Bai Bing, also under Yinghuang.

Yinghuang must be tied to this drama somehow—otherwise why pack in so many newcomers for the contest?

The other was Yao Di; Yan Li remembered her for two reasons.

One was that during his earlier show recording, he'd heard of her—she'd performed exceptionally well, a top contender.

The other was that Yao Di had approached him right away calling him "senior"—only after her reminder did Yan Li recall seeing her on campus; he asked and learned she was a 2001 graduate of Beijing Film Academy's Vocational Class.

Yan Li had only attended Beijing Film Academy for two years, so the only cohort of junior students he'd actually seen were the 2001 class.

But back then, Yan Li's attention had been mostly on Dong Xuan, partly on Huang Shengyi—he hadn't really noticed this junior.

Leaving aside other things, as one of the rare acting-focused talent contests, the contestants of The Dream of the Red Chamber Contest were genuinely high-caliber.

Graduates from Beijing Film Academy, Central Academy of Drama, and Shanghai Theatre Academy were everywhere; many also came from the PLA Art Academy, China Communication University, and other arts schools; some had trained since childhood in dance, opera, guzheng, and other instruments.

Many contestants had already acted in films or dramas, possessing performance experience—just not yet famous.

All of them were waiting to use this nationally watched Major Production to launch themselves into stardom.

Yan Li once again felt grateful for his system's advantage; otherwise, he might've been one of them.

He might even have been eliminated earlier—after all, his build and appearance were unsuitable for playing Jia Baoyu.

Perhaps it was nostalgia, perhaps a sudden feeling, perhaps because Yao Di, Lan Yan, and the others simply weren't his type—Yan Li ignored their advances, chatted casually for a while, then found an opportunity to leave. Yao Di, Lan Yan, and the others were disheartened—their golden opportunity slipped through their fingers, and they didn't even get his contact information.

Isn't this guy supposed to be a womanizer?

Back home, Lan Yan even called her agent Lina, grumbling—Yao Di had at least been somewhat reserved and embarrassed, but she had been extremely forward.

She'd even physically pressed herself against him, yet Yan Li remained indifferent—he spoke more to Yao Di than to her.

Was it because she was too forward? Did Yan Li prefer passive types?

But Yao Di had been passive—and he'd only talked a little more, nothing else.

Lina wasn't surprised at all—no matter how much Yan Li liked women, he was still an entertainment titan, a young billionaire, someone who'd seen and tasted it all.

Though they were decent-looking, they were all newcomers still struggling to establish themselves in the industry, dressed plainly, hardly distinguishable from ordinary people—hardly likely to catch Yan Li's eye.

"If you really want to get close to him, try going through Bai Bing."

Lina, Lan Yan's agent, was also Bai Bing's agent; both were Yinghuang newcomers and had both joined The Dream of the Red Chamber Contest, so they shared the same team.

Earlier, Lina had learned from Bai Bing that she knew Yan Li, and had urged her to be bold and take action.

But whether Bai Bing refused or Yan Li was indifferent, Lina had heard nothing.

If so, better to let Lan Yan try—she was at least willing to go all out, and with today's groundwork, reaching out wouldn't seem abrupt.

The resources and influence in Yan Li's hands were too tempting to pass up.

Hearing this, Lan Yan immediately went to find Bai Bing—they were from the same company and both were recording in Jingcheng, so they stayed at the same hotel.

Bai Bing was already asleep, but Lan Yan woke her up; upon hearing Lan Yan wanted Yan Li's phone number, Bai Bing frowned slightly.

"How do you know I have Yan Zong's contact info?"

"Who else? Obviously Sister Lina."

Both were newcomers; Lan Yan's fame and status were slightly lower than Bai Bing's—she knew if she asked outright, Bai Bing might not comply, so she brought up her agent.

Sure enough, when Lan Yan mentioned Lina, Bai Bing hesitated—but still refused, claiming the number couldn't be casually given to strangers.

"I'm not a stranger—I just had drinks with Director Yan a moment ago, but I missed my chance to get his number. Don't worry, I won't sell you out."

Director Yan's phone number isn't exactly a major secret.

If Lan Yan truly wanted Director Yan's number, it might not be easy, but it wouldn't be impossible either—though the number she got might not be his personal one.

After all, someone at Director Yan's level having multiple phones and multiple numbers is perfectly normal.

The work phone, though still usable for private matters, is vastly different in nature and effect.

Lan Yan didn't know whether Bai Bing's number was Director Yan's personal one, but she felt it was more reliable and direct than her own inquiries.

"You had drinks with Director Yan?"

Bai Bing was deeply surprised—she remembered Lan Yan had gone out with the production team for networking.

They'd even called her, but Bai Bing disliked such occasions and, confident in her own connections, chose to ignore it.

"Yeah, Director Yan was there too—he didn't come for our show, probably just for the TV station's hospitality; this has happened before."

"..."

Bai Bing was speechless—why did the production team keep such tight lips? If she'd known Director Yan was there, wouldn't she have gone?

Of course the production team kept quiet—if they hadn't, all the contestants would've rushed over.

At such events, having many people doesn't matter—what matters is ambition!

"Hey, are you giving it to me or not?"

Seeing Bai Bing's expression change but refusing to respond, Lan Yan couldn't help pressing—Bai Bing, annoyed, let out a huff.

"No. If you want it, go get it yourself."

Saying that, she ignored Lan Yan and slammed the door shut. Lan Yan was rebuffed and immediately went to complain to her agent, Lin Na.

Lin Na called back quickly—not to scold Bai Bing, but to reason with her gently.

"If you're not taking action yourself, you can't block others from advancing. If Lan Yan really makes a connection and gains something, I won't let her forget you."

Bai Bing could ignore Lan Yan, another newcomer, but she dared not offend her agent.

Still, Bai Bing didn't want to help Lan Yan—not only because their relationship was average and she didn't want her to rise, but also because of Wang Ou: she couldn't let her big sister's backyard burn.

But she couldn't ignore Agent Lin Na's face either—she could refuse, but needed a plausible excuse.

"Sister Lin Na, I'll be honest with you: I've been in contact with Director Yan lately, and things are starting to look promising. Giving the number to Lan Yan would just sabotage me."

Bai Bing understood: Agent Lin Na wanted her own artist to connect with Director Yan to climb higher and gain benefits.

Who made the connection didn't really matter to Lin Na.

She'd pushed Lan Yan only because Bai Bing hadn't moved—she didn't want to waste the chance—but if Bai Bing acted, Lan Yan wouldn't be needed.

True to form, upon hearing Bai Bing's words, Lin Na perked up: "Really?"

"Yeah, but I'm not sure, and I'm a bit embarrassed, so I didn't tell you. Sister, you'll keep this quiet, right?"

"Of course, I'll keep it secret."

Lin Na said that aloud, but internally calculated: winning over Director Yan was difficult; Bai Bing's lack of confidence was normal.

Embarrassment was understandable too—she was a latecomer to the industry, still new, and her mindset hadn't fully shifted yet, so her words carried some credibility.

Of course, this might also be a lie from Bai Bing—and the odds were high.

After all, she'd been silent for so long, and the moment Lan Yan moved, she suddenly claimed things were promising—this could easily be an excuse.

But Lin Na had no intention of exposing her. Compared to letting Lan Yan try, she favored Bai Bing more—after all, Bai Bing was the one who'd actually interacted with Director Yan and had his contact.

This showed Bai Bing had made a good impression on Director Yan, giving her a higher chance of success.

Her earlier support for Lan Yan was partly to avoid wasting the opportunity, and partly to spur Bai Bing on.

Now that Bai Bing had been spurred, she'd spoken boldly, revealing her true intentions.

That meant Lin Na could now follow her plan and have grounds to pressure or even arrange things.

Lin Na was practical—she immediately abandoned Lan Yan and began advising Bai Bing.

Director Yan came today to record the show and exchanged a glance with Bai Bing—she could use that as an excuse to chat with him, then steer the conversation toward last night's drinking gathering.

Bai Bing hadn't attended the networking event and missed Director Yan—seemingly a loss—but from another angle, it became an advantage.

For people like Director Yan, lacking ambition is boring, but being too ambitious seems frivolous.

Bai Bing could easily step on Lan Yan and the others—not to appear as a lotus rising pure from mud, but at least to let Director Yan know she was cleaner, enhancing her appeal and value.

Listening to Lin Na's confident talk on the phone, Bai Bing looked utterly bewildered.

At first glance, the advice sounded reasonable, but the more she thought about it, the more awkward it felt—Sister Lin Na's tone didn't sound like an agent's, but like... a madam.

Shaking her head, Bai Bing brushed aside the thought and mumbled her way through the conversation with her agent.

After letting out a long sigh, Bai Bing grew anxious again—Lin Na was taking this seriously, and she couldn't keep fobbing her off; she'd have to show some results.

But how could she produce such results? She had no power to make Director Yan play along.

Hmm, looks like she'd have to ask Big Sister Ou for help.

Thinking of that big sister, Bai Bing felt reassured—this was also shielding her, and Big Sister Ou wouldn't let her die.

Bai Bing put down her phone, ready to go back to sleep, but for some reason, she simply couldn't fall asleep.

Thinking over Lin Na's advice, Bai Bing gritted her teeth, pulled up Director Yan's number, and drafted a greeting text.

No other intent—she just disliked Lan Yan, and simply wanted to give her a little prick...

Fuli City

After washing up, Director Yan glanced at the screen and replied with two words, then turned his attention back to Qin Lan.

"And then?"

"Then I list them as backup members. How's that? To pave the way for Gan Wei joining the group, I even brought in Ying Cai'er, recommended by Liu Yun—this way, it's not abrupt, and it's balanced."

LeTV's Lao Jia had his eyes on the Teddy Sisters, and sent his girlfriend Gan Wei to infiltrate them.

To take on this task, Gan Wei worked hard for half a year, using her good friend Xiong Naijin to recruit and bribe Huo Siyan and Li Xiaolu, spending a considerable amount.

Then, through the three of them, she connected with Qin Lan, and after a period of emotional cultivation, finally convinced Qin Lan to accept her into the Teddy Sisters Group.

Of course, Gan Wei is still a probationary member, with a so-called observation period—but barring any mishaps, she will become a full member in time.

Lao Jia and Gan Wei were delighted, unaware that Qin Lan agreed to admit Gan Wei only because Yan Li had guided her.

As previously mentioned, LeShi's eventual downfall was bad, but its development phase still yielded many benefits.

These benefits were sometimes inconvenient for Yan Li to handle directly; he could use Qin Lan, through the Teddy Sisters Group, as his glove—whether profit or loss, it would appear unrelated to Yan Li and his enterprise.

You could call it covering one's ears while stealing a bell, but often, covering one's ears while stealing a bell is necessary.

Qin Lan did not understand Yan Li's intentions, but whatever he said, she did.

As for Ying Cai'er, she was met by Liu Yun on the set of "The Deer and the Cauldron," got along well with her, and also got along decently with Huo Siyan, gradually becoming familiar with the Teddy Sisters Group.

Qin Lan had a good impression of her, feeling they were compatible; to help Gan Wei join in harmony and balance the power of Huo and Li, she brought her into the sister group too.

The Teddy Sisters Group grew from seven to nine members, nearing double digits.

Yan Li did not care how many members were in the Teddy Sisters Group—he only cared that Gan Wei had joined.

As for Gan Wei's treatment, Yan Li instructed Qin Lan not to take her too seriously, just treat her normally.

This was merely a sideline move; whether it would ever be used, and when, remained uncertain.

Qin Lan nodded to show she understood, and seeing Yan Li occasionally fiddling with his phone, she couldn't help asking.

"Who are you chatting with?"

Yan Li replied calmly: "Fan Bingbing."

Qin Lan grew annoyed at those two words and didn't bother asking whether it was Li or Fan—she simply demanded Yan Li stop talking to her. Yan Li complied without protest and tossed his phone aside.

"Don't talk to her. Talk to me."

Qin Lan felt a pang of regret—this bastard had been drinking today—but there was no escape; to suffer less, she had to deploy every trick she had.

So she reached behind her back…

(End of Chapter)