Chapter 284: The Era of the Assertive Independent Agent Is Coming to an End

In early August, Yi'an hosted a small celebration banquet for The Legend of Chu Liuxiang.

Winning isn't just about words—it takes a concrete ceremony to demonstrate and validate it.

After all, the banquet was already held; even if you didn't win, you still won.

Yan Li used to think all this was flashy nonsense, formalism, a waste of money and manpower.

But after trying it, he realized some forms truly had their necessity.

It costs little, boosts the company's influence, benefits future TV drama releases, gives actors exposure, and unites and strengthens confidence within the company and among investors.

Of course, anything in excess is harmful—proper form brings more benefit than harm, but too much form becomes a burden.

Just like Yi'an's artist and director signing ceremonies—not everyone qualifies, and similarly, celebration banquets aren't held for every project.

Only when a project like The Legend of Chu Liuxiang reaches a certain level in revenue, performance, popularity, influence, artist contribution, and other aspects is a celebration banquet held.

This is Yi'an's first television drama since 2007 to hold a celebration banquet.

Previous Yi'an productions like The White-Haired Witch and The Great Qing Harem received no such treatment.

Yan Li's The Legend of Xue Rengui nearly had one, but he later chose to stay low-key and felt it smacked of self-promotion, so he declined.

In the hotel banquet hall, The Legend of Chu Liuxiang's director Ju Jueliang, along with Qiao Zhenyu, Dong Xuan, and Shu Chang, opened a bottle of champagne and poured it into the champagne tower.

Several reporters and Yi'an staff took photos—the reporters for coverage, the staff for keepsakes and website promotion.

Yes, Yi'an has a website; many reputable companies now maintain corporate websites.

Yi'an was slow to start—it only began this year, and only after relocating offices did it truly get on track.

Now, Yi'an's website updates artist news, positive stories, project progress, company highlights, and more, with decent click-through rates.

One reason is the abundance of content, such as exclusive behind-the-scenes footage from popular artists and hot TV dramas.

The second reason is the two interactive sections: 【Fan Zone】 and 【Drama Fan Center】.

Fans and viewers can leave messages here, offering feedback and suggestions.

Sometimes the company runs events, drawing random fans and viewers to award gifts like artist autographs or drama CDs.

At the table, Yan Li, talking with Wang Decai, waved off the website staff who suddenly turned to photograph him.

To be honest, Yan Li's vanity isn't small—otherwise he wouldn't always stay in the spotlight.

He's willing to get some exposure on the website.

But his staff are too eager to flatter him—if he cooperates, the corporate website could become his personal one.

Everyone likes to hear praise, Yan Li included—he secretly enjoys being fawned over by employees.

But private praise is fine; putting it on the company website for everyone to see is different, especially when their wording is excessive—he found previous website updates about him deeply awkward and humiliating.

Since then, Yan Li has avoided the website, and even when unavoidable, he demands conservative, understated coverage.

The small celebration had no elaborate procedures or empty speeches—just a ceremony, a photo, a few representatives speaking, then dinner.

Of course, during this time, some people would separately cooperate with reporters or the website for brief interviews.

Yan Li sat at the head table, chatting with Ju Jueliang and Qiao Zhenyu.

Deng Chao's Xiao Shiyilang is still in script refinement and preparation; the company's next project is The Legend of Chu Liuxiang 2.

Almost all the original cast and crew are retained—the behind-the-scenes team, of course, are all Yi'an people.

Most of the lead actors and creatives are the same.

Because The Legend of Chu Liuxiang is an anthology, most supporting characters from the first season were dropped, retaining only the main cast.

Among the main cast, Dong Xuan needs no mention; Qiao Zhenyu and Yang Xue are both Yi'an artists, and Wu Yue is a longtime collaborator.

The only two less familiar were Zhao Hongfei and Shu Chang—the former had fewer offers and was easily signed.

The latter was slightly more complicated—these past two years have been Shu Chang's rapid growth phase; The Legend of Chu Liuxiang's popularity boosted her career.

Shu Chang not only had a tight schedule, but was also the only artist who negotiated a major pay raise for the second season.

When a TV drama's first season succeeds, it's common—and expected—for actors to demand higher pay in the second.

The production profits, so sharing some benefits to retain key creatives makes sense—everyone continues collaborating and earning.

But the raise must be reasonable; excessive demands cross the line.

Especially with a major company like Yi'an, mutual goodwill opens doors to more future collaborations.

The difference between one full meal and daily meals is easy to understand—many actors accept lower pay to join big companies for more opportunities.

The acting industry is highly uncertain.

Most actors don't worry about fame—they worry about how many projects they'll get this year.

Of course, some think differently: the higher the uncertainty, the more they must earn; offending one company doesn't matter—there are many in the entertainment industry.

In short, Shu Chang is in demand, has no shortage of offers, and has strong leverage—Yi'an's reputation means less than money.

"I'm still not doing well."

Yan Li felt a pang of reflection—he'd been treated with deference everywhere, had grown a bit arrogant.

This time, facing disrespect, he was humbled and his mindset readjusted.

Afterwards, Yan Li had the company negotiate with Shu Chang's team—pay could rise a bit, but not excessively beyond other actors'; it wasn't about money, but about justifying it to other creatives.

A TV drama project originally planned to cast Shu Chang was immediately canceled.

Shu Chang's demand for a big pay raise wasn't unreasonable, and Yan Li wasn't particularly angry.

But since her side treated it as purely professional, no personal ties, Yi'an naturally responded the same—only business, nothing else.

Undoubtedly, while Shu Chang has good popularity and acting, she isn't irreplaceable.

If The Legend of Chu Liuxiang 2 wants to retain the original cast, fine—but for other projects, Yi'an can easily find actors more loyal and offering better value.

Shu Chang was present today; Yan Li specifically asked about her schedule.

She's currently filming Magic Mobile—would it conflict with The Legend of Chu Liuxiang 2's upcoming shoot?

If impossible, redistribute Song Tianer's scenes among other actresses and new supporting roles—this eases scheduling, shortens filming time, and makes pay negotiations easier.

Shu Chang looked embarrassed and mumbled, "I'm fine with anything—the crew can decide."

Yan Li nodded. Shu Chang gathered courage and raised her glass to Yan Li: "I'm sorry, Manager Yan, I've caused you trouble."

"As long as it doesn't delay the project."

Yan Li said a few empty platitudes, ignored her toast, and turned to talk with Qiao Zhenyu.

Not being angry doesn't mean he has to smile and pretend.

Shu Chang clenched her lips, sat quietly, her eyes brimming with grievance.

It wasn't really her fault.

Though she debuted early, she's only twenty this year, still in college, and her career is mostly managed by a relative.

It's common in entertainment for relatives to act as agents.

Few succeed; many cause trouble. It's hard to say their intentions are malicious, but due to limited vision, ability, and mindset, they unknowingly lead artists into trouble.

Shu Chang's father left after divorce, her mother died early—she was raised by relatives and naturally relied on their opinions.

Academically, she once passed the Central Academy of Drama, but under family advice, she enrolled in a school unrelated to acting as a backup.

Same with her career—she's a child star, raised with plans laid out for her, accustomed to it.

Broadly speaking, Shu Chang's relatives aren't entirely clueless.

Whether through genuine insight or luck, their project selection has been decent—her career has indeed grown rapidly these past years.

But other aspects have been disappointing—they once broke a contract, took a deposit, and "disappeared."

Of course, later it turned out there was more to it.

But the agent team's unprofessional conduct and letting the incident escalate to this point, causing various negative effects on the artist, proved their incompetence.

This pay raise incident with The Legend of Chu Liuxiang 2 is the same—Shu Chang realized too late.

Her relatives' reasoning was solid: The Legend of Chu Liuxiang's biggest stars were Qiao Zhenyu and her—they contributed to the first season's success and are indispensable to the second.

Qiao Zhenyu is an Yi'an artist, under Yi'an's control; they aren't, so they must demand more money.

They aren't afraid of offending Yi'an—Yi'an has many female artists; Shu Chang won't necessarily benefit, and might even attract Yan Li's attention. Better to just cut ties.

Shu Chang didn't know how to argue—she sensed something was off, but couldn't refute it, so she defaulted to silence.

She'd hoped to mend relations with a toast at the banquet, but seeing Yan Li's demeanor, she realized it was already ruined.

At that moment, she noticed Dong Xuan beside her, thought quickly, and raised her glass again.

"Sister Xuan, I toast you."

After working together, she could sense something between Yan Li and Dong Xuan.

Though on set Dong Xuan mostly hung out with Guan Yue, Yang Xue, and Tong Yaya, she still got along well with Shu Chang—barely friends.

Shu Chang wondered if she could get closer to Dong Xuan, asking her to mediate—not to restore normalcy, just to avoid being targeted.

She wasn't as optimistic as her relatives—though she's doing well now with plenty of roles, she has no connections or backing.

Her relatives' assumption is that Yan Li won't hold a grudge—but if he's petty and strikes back, trouble will follow.

Last time, even that obscure production team had made her suffer terribly—if Yi'an acted, they couldn't destroy her, but they could make her life hell.

Dong Xuan didn't know the details; seeing Shu Chang suddenly become overly friendly, she was confused.

But she'd just seen Yan Li's attitude toward her—though she liked Shu Chang, she knew where her loyalty lay.

Whether Yan Li was right or wrong, privately they could debate, but publicly, their alignment must be absolute.

So Dong Xuan, usually warm and kind, responded to Shu Chang with coolness and indifference, making Shu Chang even more anxious.

Only after the banquet ended, when Dong Xuan rode with Tong Yaya in Yan Li's car and asked about it, did she learn the full story.

From Yan Li's perspective, there was no meddling relative—Shu Chang, as the artist, bore full blame.

This changed Dong Xuan's impression of Shu Chang—this incident didn't match her image of a sweet, well-behaved girl.

Yan Li didn't dwell on it; instead, he began chatting with Dong Xuan about overseas vacations.

Two days later, Tong Dawei and his wife got married, then set off for Europe on their honeymoon.

Yan Li and Dong Xuan traveled with them, expecting to spend seven to ten days abroad; after returning, Yan Li would be busy preparing for the filming of "Painted Skin," while Dong Xuan would join the cast of "The Legend of Chu Liuxiang 2."

"What I mean is, if they head straight to Europe after marrying, we go together; but if they need to live apart for a couple more days or visit family, we go first and wait for them in Europe—we can extend the trip and have some private time."

Yan Li explained his idea, and Dong Xuan nodded eagerly.

Traveling with a best friend is nice, but having some private space as a couple would be even better.

Nearby, Tong Yaya felt a pang of envy but wisely stayed silent.

They were on their honeymoon, and they were longtime friends; she was single and a newcomer—she had no right to intrude.

…

Yan Li and Dong Xuan returned home, first dropping off Tong Yaya, who, though still in school, had moved out due to work and income.

This was normal for art students—most came from families with some means, and many began earning money during school.

Especially in the Acting Department: if they couldn't land roles, they could do commercials, model, sing in karaoke bars, host events, or work as teaching assistants—any odd job would do.

Combined with living expenses, this income was enough to cover rent, offering greater comfort, convenience, privacy, and freedom than dormitories.

Thus, students who stayed quietly in school for years were the minority.

Even the school turned a blind eye—perhaps they enforced rules in freshman and sophomore years, but after that, they didn't care.

Tong Yaya's apartment was close to the Central Academy of Drama, likely for convenience in attending classes.

After dropping her off and exchanging greetings, the car pulled away slowly; Tong Yaya exhaled, picked up her bag, and walked toward the compound—when someone called out to her.

"Zhang… Senior Sister?"

Tong Yaya looked at the tall, slender girl before her, blinked once, then remembered who she was.

Zhang Li, from the Class of 2003 at the Central Academy of Drama; they had collaborated twice in school—Zhang Li was a dancer, while she was a host; their relationship wasn't close, just acquaintances.

"Just back from work?"

Zhang Li greeted her cheerfully; Tong Yaya nodded, and seeing Zhang Li's intent to enter the compound, she asked in surprise.

"You live here too?"

"I've lived here for two years."

Zhang Li smiled—she was from the Class of 2003 and had just graduated in June; since she hadn't found a suitable apartment yet, she was staying here temporarily.

As a senior, she spent most of her time outside doing gigs and rarely returned to school; Tong Yaya also worked, so they'd never crossed paths until now.

"By the way, I brought some fruit—take some."

Zhang Li generously handed Tong Yaya some fruit from the bag; unable to refuse, Tong Yaya accepted.

"Thank you, Senior Sister."

"Don't be formal—we're from the same school and live in the same compound; we'll see more of each other, and help each other out."