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

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

Winning isn't just about saying it—you need a concrete ceremony to demonstrate and confirm it.

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

Yan Li used to think all these were flashy, formalistic, and a waste of money and manpower.

But after trying them out, he found some forms truly had their necessity.

They cost little, boosted the company's influence, benefited subsequent TV drama releases, gave actors exposure, and unified and strengthened confidence within the company and among investors.

Of course, anything taken too far becomes counterproductive; appropriate forms bring more benefit than harm, but too many become burdens.

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 enhancement, and other aspects is a celebration banquet held.

This is the first Yi'an TV drama since 2007 to hold a celebration banquet.

Previous Yi'an productions like The White-Haired Witch and The Great Qing Imperial Harem never received this treatment.

Yan Li's The Legend of Xue Rengui almost had one, but Yan Li later opted out, preferring low-keyness and feeling it bordered on self-praise.

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

Several reporters and Yi'an staff took photos; the reporters need no explanation, while the staff did so for memorabilia and official website promotion.

Yes, Yi'an has an official website—many reputable companies now maintain corporate websites.

Yi'an was slow to start; it only got on track this year after relocating offices.

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

One reason is the abundance of content—for instance, exclusive behind-the-scenes footage of popular artists and hot TV dramas.

The second reason is the two interactive sections: 【Fan Universe】 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 was willing to gain visibility on the official website.

But his staff were too obsequious—if he cooperated, the corporate website would become his personal one.

Everyone loves to hear praise, Yan Li included; he secretly enjoyed being flattered by employees daily.

But private flattery was fine; putting it on the company website for everyone to see was different, especially when their wording was excessive—the previous website updates about him had left him deeply embarrassed and ashamed.

Since then, Yan Li had grown reluctant to appear on the website; even when unavoidable, he demanded conservative, restrained coverage.

The small celebration banquet had no elaborate procedures or empty talk—just a ceremony, a photo, a few representatives speaking on stage, then dinner began.

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

Almost all the original cast returned; the behind-the-scenes team, needless to say, were all Yi'an personnel.

Most of the main cast were the same.

Since The Legend of Chu Liuxiang was an anthology, most supporting characters from the first season were dropped, retaining only the core protagonists.

Among the core protagonists, Dong Xuan needed no mention; Qiao Zhenyu and Yang Xue were Yi'an artists, Wu Yue was a longtime collaborator.

The only two less familiar were Zhao Hongfei and Shu Chang; the former had fewer project offers and was easily secured.

The latter was slightly more troublesome—these past two years were Shu Chang's rapid growth phase, and The Legend of Chu Liuxiang's popularity had boosted her career.

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

When a TV drama's first season succeeds, actors demanding higher pay in the second season is common—and arguably expected.

The production profits, so sharing some benefits to retain and bind the main creatives ensures continued collaboration and further wealth.

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

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

The difference between one full meal and daily meals isn't hard to grasp—many actors willingly accept lower pay to join a big company for more work opportunities.

The acting industry is too uncertain.

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

Of course, some think differently: the higher the uncertainty, the more they must earn, even if they offend a company—there are many others in the entertainment circle.

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

"I'm still not doing well."

Yan Li felt a pang of reflection; normally, he was treated with reverence everywhere in the industry, and he'd grown a bit arrogant.

This time, facing disrespect and a slap to his pride, his mindset readjusted.

Afterwards, Yan Li had the company negotiate with Shu Chang's team: a higher pay raise was acceptable, but not excessively higher than other actors—not because he minded the money, but because he couldn't explain it to the other creatives.

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

Shu Chang's team demanding a big pay raise wasn't wrong, and Yan Li wasn't particularly angry.

But conversely, since Shu Chang's side treated it as pure business, no personal ties involved, Yi'an naturally responded in kind—only discussing cooperation, nothing else.

Undoubtedly, although Shu Chang had good popularity and acting ability, she wasn't irreplaceable.

If The Legend of Chu Liuxiang 2 wanted to retain the original cast, fine—but for other projects, Yi'an could easily find actors closer to them with better pay-to-value ratios.

Shu Chang had also attended the banquet, and Yan Li had specifically inquired about her schedule.

She was currently filming Magic Mobile; it was unclear whether it would conflict with The Legend of Chu Liuxiang 2's upcoming shoot.

If absolutely impossible, redistribute Song Tian's script portions to other female actors and new supporting roles—this would ease scheduling, shorten filming duration, and make pay negotiations easier.

Shu Chang's face turned awkward, and she mumbled, "I'm fine with anything; the crew can decide."

Yan Li nodded, and Shu Chang gathered her courage to raise her glass to him: "I'm really sorry, Director Yan, for causing you trouble."

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

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

Not being angry didn't mean he had to smile and humoring her.

Shu Chang pursed her lips, sat down silently, her eyes tinged with grievance.

It wasn't really her fault.

Though she debuted early, she was only twenty this year, still in college and not yet graduated; her work was mostly handled by her relative who acted as her agent.

It wasn't uncommon in the entertainment industry for relatives to serve as agents.

Few succeeded; most caused trouble. It was hard to say their intentions were malicious, but due to limited vision, ability, and mindset, they unconsciously led their artists into trouble.

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

For instance, she had once been accepted into the Central Academy of Drama, but under family advice, she applied to a school unrelated to acting as a backup.

This applied to her studies, and even more so to her career—especially since she was a child star, raised with every path planned for her, and had long grown accustomed to it.

From a broader perspective, Shu Chang's relatives weren't entirely clueless.

Whether through genuine insight or luck, their ability to choose roles was decent; over these past few years, Shu Chang's career had indeed risen rapidly.

But other aspects were less satisfactory—earlier, they had pulled a stunt: breaking a contract, taking a deposit, and then vanishing.

Of course, it was later proven there was more to it.

But the unprofessional conduct during that period, and how it escalated to this point, causing various negative impacts on the artist, was enough to prove their incompetence.

This incident over the pay for "Chu Liuxiang Legend 2" was the same—Shu Chang knew it was already too late.

Her relatives' reasoning was solid: Qiao Zhenyu and she were the most popular stars of "Chu Liuxiang Legend," instrumental to the first season's success, and indispensable to the second.

Qiao Zhenyu was an Yi'an artist, under Yi'an's control; they weren't, so they should demand more money.

They weren't afraid of offending Yi'an—after all, Yi'an had many female artists; Shu Chang might not benefit from their favor, and might even draw Yan Li's attention. If so, they could just stop working together later.

Shu Chang didn't know how to argue; she felt something was off, but couldn't find a rebuttal, and ultimately defaulted out of habit.

She had just thought of toasting at the celebration to ease tensions, but seeing Yan Li's demeanor, she realized the damage was already done.

At that moment, she suddenly noticed Dong Xuan beside her, her thoughts shifted, and she lifted her glass again.

"Sister Xuan, I toast you."

After all, they had filmed a drama together; she could sense something between Yan Li and Dong Xuan.

Though in the crew, Dong Xuan mostly hung out with Guan Yue, Yang Xue, and Tong Yaya, she still got along well enough with Shu Chang to count as an acquaintance.

Shu Chang wondered if she could get closer to Dong Xuan, asking her to mediate—not to restore normal relations, but at least to avoid being targeted.

She wasn't as optimistic as her relatives; though she was doing well now, with no shortage of roles, she had no connections or backing.

Her relatives' assumption was that Yan Li wouldn't care—but if he held a grudge and pulled some dirty tricks, it would be trouble.

Last time, even though the opposing side was just an obscure production team, they had made her suffer terribly; if Yi'an moved against her, they might not kill her, but they had plenty of ways to strip her down to the bone.

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

But she had just seen Yan Li's attitude toward her; though she liked Shu Chang, she knew well who was close and who wasn't.

Whether Yan Li was right or wrong, private discussions could wait—publicly, their loyalties had to align.

So Dong Xuan, usually kind and amiable, responded to Shu Chang with clear coldness and indifference, making Shu Chang even more uneasy.

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

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

This shifted Dong Xuan's impression of Shu Chang; this incident didn't match the sweet, well-behaved girl she remembered.

Yan Li didn't dwell on it; instead, he began chatting with Dong Xuan about traveling abroad for vacation.

In two days, Tong Dawei and his wife would get married, then depart for Europe on their honeymoon.

Yan Li and the others would join them, expecting to travel seven to ten days; after returning, Yan Li would get busy preparing for "Huapi," and Dong Xuan would join the cast of "Chu Liuxiang Legend 2."

"My idea is, if they leave right after the wedding, we go together; if they need to stay another day or return to their families first, we go ahead and wait for them in Europe—we can play longer and have some private time."

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

Traveling with a best friend was good, but having some private couple time would be even better.

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

They were on their honeymoon, and longtime friends at that; 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 common among art students; their families usually had money, and most began earning while still in school.

Especially in the acting department: if they couldn't land roles, they could do commercials, modeling, sing in karaoke bars, host events, or work as acting assistants—any odd job.

Combined with living expenses, this income was enough to cover rent; the comfort, convenience, privacy, and freedom far surpassed dorm life.

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

Even the school turned a blind eye—perhaps managing a bit during freshman and sophomore years, but after that, they didn't care.

Tong Yaya's apartment wasn't far from the Central Academy of Drama, likely chosen for convenience to 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?"

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

Zhang Li, class of 2003 at the Central Academy of Drama; they had collaborated twice in school—Tong Yaya as dancer, Zhang Li as host. Their relationship wasn't close, just acquaintances.

"Just back from work?"

Zhang Li greeted with a smile, and Tong Yaya nodded, surprised to see she was also entering the compound.

"Sister Zhang also lives here?"

"I've been living here for two years."

Zhang Li smiled; she was from the Class of 2003, graduated just this past June, and had yet to find a suitable apartment, so she was temporarily staying here.

Since senior year, she's been mostly out doing group assignments and rarely returns to campus; Tong Yaya also has a job, otherwise they would have met long ago.

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

Zhang Li enthusiastically divided some fruit from the bag and gave it to Tong Yaya, who could not refuse and accepted it.

"Thank you, Sister Zhang."

"Don't be so formal—we're from the same sect and live in the same compound; we'll see more of each other and look out for one another."