Chapter 293: The Only Super-Rich Film Star and Yang Mi

Hengdian, Yi'an Garden

When Yan Li arrived, dinner was just being served, so he decided to eat there and happened to see Deng Chao and Sun Li being affectionate, while Wu Jing nearby radiated bitter resentment.

When "Painted Skin" first started filming, the male actors arrived earlier.

So initially, Yan, Deng, and Wu formed a tight trio, gathering after each day's shoot for workouts, grilled skewers, and enjoying a pleasant little routine.

Once Shuang Bing joined the cast, Yan Li went solo, but the remaining two still kept each other company—until Sun Li arrived and Deng Chao abandoned Wu Jing entirely.

It was only then that Wu Jing realized the "Painted Skin" set was a damn trap.

Yan Li had Shuang Bing, Deng Chao and Sun Li were a couple, and among the main cast, he was the only one who came in alone.

Previously, Wu Yue, a fellow surname and martial arts background, had kept him company, but Wu Yue was also filming "The Legend of Chu Liuxiang 2," had few scenes here, and was often absent—then he wrapped up two days ago and completely left.

Today, Deng and Sun had no scenes, so they came to the rehearsal hall at Yi'an Garden to train for fight sequences.

Wu Jing had no scenes today either and planned to rest, but Deng Chao dragged him over under the guise of brotherly duty to act as coach—only for Wu Jing to end up as a third wheel, making him want to chop Deng Chao into pieces.

Yan Li carried his tray, greeted everyone along the way, and arrived at Wu Jing's table.

"Mind if I sit here?"

"Director Yan…"

Wu Jing rose to stand, but Yan Li pressed him down, then sat himself, placed his soup bowl down, picked up some stir-fried pork, and bit into it with a steamed bun.

"How's the set been these past few days?"

"Everything's normal. We shot a night scene yesterday, so today's a rest day. Today's outdoor ensemble scenes are all on the street set."

Yan Li nodded, then teased: "You were staring at that couple the moment you walked in—lonely?"

"It's not loneliness—it's that bastard Deng Chao being a total piece of shit."

Wu Jing recounted the whole story; Yan Li agreed Deng Chao was unscrupulous, but since he himself was a habitual case of abandoning friends for women, he offered no judgment.

"If you're upset, go hook up with someone yourself—we've got female actors in the crew."

The main cast of "Painted Skin" only includes Shuang Bing and Sun Li, but that doesn't mean there aren't other actresses—just minor supporting roles and background extras.

Like Xiao Rou, the personal maid to Lady Wang, or female guests visiting the Prince's mansion.

Since these roles involved Shuang Bing and weren't prominent, Yan Li didn't bother asking, handing it all to the producer.

The maid seemed to be an actress pushed in by an investor; the female guest was a host from Guangxian making a cameo.

The former's background was unclear, so Wu Jing shouldn't act on her; the latter was perfectly fine to approach.

Even if nothing works in the crew, Hengdian never lacks beauties—take a stroll, and opportunities arise.

"Forget it. I'm focusing on my career first."

Wu Jing wore the expression of a man who'd given up on love; Yan Li's eyes flickered slightly.

He smelled a juicy gossip!

A young guy, healthy, not short on cash, uninterested in women—either he's gay, or he's been heartbroken.

Based on his time with Wu Jing, though he was overly warm to his brothers, he didn't seem gay—and paired with this melancholy look, he'd clearly been hurt.

Yan Li was sharp—he knew that directly pressing Wu Jing now would likely get him nothing.

Men value face; being dumped isn't something you brag about.

So Yan Li adopted a roundabout strategy: pretending to support Wu Jing's career first, then complaining about unreliable women, citing two examples of men hurt by women, making Wu Jing feel understood, then prying open his mouth.

In a private setting with a couple drinks, this would've gone much smoother.

But even without alcohol, Yan Li's social skills were strong, and Wu Jing wasn't a deep or reserved type—by the end of the meal, Yan Li had pieced together most of it.

This guy had indeed been hurt by a woman!

When he first debuted, Wu Jing met a Hong Kong actress, gradually fell for her, and they got together.

Back then, the young Wu Jing was head over heels—he even moved into the Hong Kong scene partly because of her.

But he loved the wrong person—she later met a wealthy man who looked down on Wu Jing for being poor and left him for the richer man.

She'd done something particularly cruel back then, inflicting deep wounds; it had been years, but he still couldn't move on.

Yan Li ate his gossip while finishing his last sip of soup, then asked:

"That billionaire's last name is Luo—is he the Hong Kong real estate prodigy?"

Wu Jing looked at him and nodded: "Yeah, him. You took down that guy when you stood up for Zhang Zhilin and his wife—you've already avenged me."

Well then!

Yan Li had wondered why Wu Jing had been so close to him from the start—he'd assumed it was just flattery, which was common enough.

Later, he'd sensed Wu Jing wasn't blatantly sucking up, and had even wondered if it was his own charisma or prestige.

Now he understood—the reason was this: he'd accidentally avenged Wu Jing's "wife-stealing" grudge.

Come to think of it, that Luo guy had been arrogant in Hong Kong for years and had made many enemies; by taking him down, Yan Li probably earned more than just Zhang, Yuan, and Wu's gratitude.

But Yan Li didn't care much about that.

Like Wu Jing—a minor actor, barely even considered second-tier—what use was his gratitude to Yan Li?

Satisfied with the gossip, Yan Li offered a few casual words of comfort: everyone steps in shit at some point in life.

Wu Jing's career was decent, his looks weren't bad—he'd find a wife he liked and suited him.

Yan Li didn't have time to be a matchmaker, but Wu Jing could ask the woman-abandoning Deng Chao—he had good connections and Sun Li; maybe he could introduce someone decent.

…

After eating, Yan Li, since he had no scenes today, went to the office area to review Hengdian's work summaries.

Currently filming in Hengdian and associated with Yi'an include "Painted Skin," "In the Name of the People," "The Last Princess," "The Legend of Chu Liuxiang 2," and several others.

Additionally, "Xiao Shiyilang" and "Crimson Snow" are in pre-production, and once "Painted Skin" wraps, Fan Xiaopang, Deng Chao, and others will seamlessly move into the next project.

There are also projects such as "Xue Dingshan Conquers the West" and "The Right Path of Humanity" still in the planning stage—no construction has begun, and they may not even film in Hengdian.

Overall, this year Yi'an's TV drama output has grown only slightly due to its heavy involvement in films.

Investment ratios have been reduced, with Yi'an prioritizing self-controlled productions and promoting a centralized project model.

Previously, Yi'an had few self-controlled projects, partly due to funding constraints, but the key issue was lack of personnel and teams—good projects were hard to find.

Now, while not all these problems are solved, they've been greatly improved.

With ample funds and backup from Juxin if needed, as the company grows into an industry giant, it attracts a steady stream of talent and projects from within the industry.

Thus, with neither money nor talent lacking, Yi'an naturally prioritizes its own projects, earning more and gaining greater influence.

External investments will still happen, but only for strong projects or when Yi'an's funds are relatively abundant.

Of course, this applies to TV dramas; for films, due to high risk, Yi'an remains conservative about self-control, still favoring investment.

Even for self-controlled films like "Painted Skin," they've brought in multiple investors—integrating resources and sharing risk.

But next year, if "Painted Skin" gains fame, it will greatly boost Yi'an's film development.

If combined with Yi'an's sister company Yi'an, with upstream and downstream channels fully connected, both companies benefit, forming a strategic alliance.

Internally, there's been talk of merging the two companies to leverage full industry chain advantages—production, distribution, cinema chains—to go public.

This would be far more explosive than either Yi'an or Yi'an going public alone.

Yi'an's physical assets can anchor Yi'an's floor; Yi'an's constant exposure can drive stock profits—their union brings many benefits.

Yan Li has considered this issue, but merging Yi'an and Yi'an is a thorny problem.

It's not just about changing a name—weight, management quality, resource allocation, and most importantly, equity, are all hard to untangle.

Especially equity: Yan Li owns Yi'an outright—how many shares would he get in a merger?

Too few, and Yan Li won't accept it—he knows Yi'an already earns well.

Too many, and Yan Li, already the largest shareholder, will make other shareholders uneasy.

Is the merger for the company's sake or for personal power grabs?

If mishandled, Yi'an could split internally, dragging Yi'an into the mess too.

Yan Li has even regretted that when he started the cinema chain, he could've done it under Yi'an's name.

But thinking that way is hindsight bias.

Starting the cinema chain was a high-stakes gamble requiring massive equity dilution; Yi'an had its own business and profit points then—forcing cinema expansion would've required heavy capital injections, severely impacting Yi'an's rapid growth phase.

Maybe the Yi'an cinema chain wouldn't have succeeded, and Yi'an's thriving business would've been dragged down instead.

So Yan Li's original strategy of putting eggs in two baskets was correct.

Now, as the eggs in both baskets multiply, it's time to put them in a bigger container—and possibly cultivate an entire poultry farm.

Yan Li shook his head, setting aside this troubling dilemma for now.

Whether merging happens in the future, or whether it's good or bad, right now making both baskets bigger and the eggs more numerous is the right move.

…

The next day, after makeup, Yan Li saw Sun Li and Deng Chao fully geared up.

Today's scene: domestic violence.

Deng Chao, playing the lizard spirit, ambushes Sun Li, the demon slayer, slashing wildly, leaving her battered—until Wu Jing intervenes and they team up to drive him off.

When he agreed to play the demon slayer, one major reason was the heavy fight scenes with Deng Chao.

A true "rivalry"—they slash at each other fiercely, and in the end, Deng Chao dies by Sun Li's hand.

The couple had previously co-starred in two dramas, both romantic—this is the first where they kill each other, a huge selling point.

They're enjoying it too: Deng Chao, the clown, treasures this "legally beating his girlfriend" chance; Sun Li, who sleeps with him, isn't easy either, obsessively researching how to "kill her husband" more satisfyingly.

Yan Li privately warned Fan Xiaopang to stay away from Sun Li—don't get infected by these two crazy spouses.

Fan Xiaopang was intrigued—she'd "killed" Yan Li before, in "The Lucky Pig Zhu Bajie," but it was more like mutual suicide.

So she's fascinated by the idea of personally killing Yan Li, and is thinking about when they can do a fight scene together.

Yan Li was speechless, venting to Li Bing—but to his surprise, Li Bing also thought it sounded fun.

「……」

What kind of people are these!

Deng Chao and Sun Li have a scene together today, and Yu Yanli also has a scene with Li Bing, with him as the lead.

"Painted Skin" is about demons, but it's really about love.

Put more bluntly, it's the story of a fox spirit mistress who targets a married man, tries to destroy his marriage and take his wife's place, but fails.

Fan Xiaopang is the mistress, Li Bingbing is the lawful wife, and their rivalry is the most intense—but they can't do it without Yu Yanli's character, the male lead.

At first, Yu Yanli thought Wang Sheng was easy to play—just a man torn between his wife and the mistress, something he had experience with.

But once he started acting, he realized the role was far more complex than he'd assumed.

Wang Sheng's core is an extremely intricate contradiction: trapped between desire and morality, instinct and duty, hypocrisy and sincerity. His appeal—or his revulsion—lies precisely in the raw, authentic portrayal of human struggle.

Playing this role well is actually harder than playing Peirong or Xiao Wei.

Peirong embodies true goodness and beauty: she sacrifices herself for love, enduring hardship, yielding yet resolute—a classic image of gentle yet resilient femininity.

This character is actually the easiest of the three to handle.

Xiao Wei is more difficult, because she isn't entirely a villain; her evil differs from that of normal human society—she has her own logic, innocent and pure yet brutally cruel.

You must portray both her contradictions and her arc of growth—from demonic nature to human nature.

Yu Yanli believes Wang Sheng is harder to play than Xiao Wei because his contradictions are passive, and his moments of brilliance and eruption are fewer.

More importantly, Yu Yanli underestimated the role's complexity and found it hard to identify with him.

Wang Sheng's moral collapse and descent shatter his own self-perception, turning him from a resolute, decisive general into a hesitant, fragile "coward."

This clashes strongly with some of Yu Yanli's own personality traits, and he simply can't relate to the character's so-called inner turmoil.

As a husband, Wang Sheng violently vacillates between cheating and staying faithful; Yu Yanli is used to cheating himself, even forming a fixed mindset around it.

Playing deep affection is one thing—he does that regularly—but playing this weak, hypocritical contradiction, he couldn't quite grasp the right balance.

Sometimes, inevitably, he ended up portraying Wang Sheng as a total jerk.

This made Yu Yanli dislike the character Wang Sheng: either be a complete jerk, or be a decent man—the worst is this half-jerk, half-decent mess.

The mismatch between actor and character, plus the lack of identification, made Yu Yanli struggle to portray Wang Sheng.

On top of that, due to various work commitments, he couldn't fully immerse himself in filming, so he had to put in extra effort in his spare time.

In the evenings, when he spent time with Li Bingbing, it wasn't just about chatting—he also genuinely set aside time to study the roles and rehearse scenes with her.

Sometimes, when deeply in character, he'd even interact with her through the character's emotions.

In the film, Wang Sheng begs for forgiveness, making Peirong cry and forgive him many times; Xiao Wei isn't spared either, constantly hunted and exorcised.

Besides hard work, Yu Yanli also considered taking shortcuts—asking Li Bingbing to cooperate, sometimes letting him play second fiddle.

Filming, especially scenes with other actors, isn't just about individual performance—it's teamwork. If your scene partner cooperates, the character's impact improves dramatically.

But you can't always get your scene partner to yield to you, especially someone of Li Bingbing's stature.

Fortunately, Yu Yanli still had enough clout, and he was generous with his personal favors—so Li Bingbing and Fan Xiaopang were both cooperative.

Yu Yanli got to experience the feeling of two leading actresses building the stage for him—admittedly, it felt great to act like that.

Of course, Yu Yanli wasn't just taking—he also willingly played supporting roles during Li Bingbing and Fan Xiaopang's standout scenes, enhancing their performances.

Yu Yanli wasn't particularly eager to steal scenes or hog the spotlight; if not for the male lead being essential, he'd have been happy to make "Painted Skin" a true dual female-led film.

This isn't just Yu Yanli boasting—he'd previously discussed "Painted Skin 2" with the screenwriter and had two ideas.

If a sequel were made with the same cast, Yu Yanli considered reducing his own role's weight and giving more screen time to Li Bingbing and Fan Xiaopang.

He even considered adding a yuri element—he thought Li Bingbing and Fan Xiaopang as a couple might be more compelling than their rivalry over a man.

You don't even need to wait for "Painted Skin 2"—Yi'an's upcoming spy film could try casting Li Bingbing and Fan Xiaopang as comrades.

But whether this project would actually bring them together again, Yu Yanli couldn't guarantee.

Although the "Painted Skin" set seemed stable, behind the scenes there was plenty of friction—Li Bingbing and Fan Xiaopang would occasionally exchange polite greetings.

Under these circumstances, whether they'd be willing to collaborate again was uncertain.

Moreover, repeatedly pairing them and pushing the "dual lead" angle might trigger market fatigue or backlash—something that couldn't be ignored.

On the other hand, if "Painted Skin" succeeded and the "dual lead" brand gained reputation, continuously linking them in strong partnerships and releasing multiple works would significantly boost their career influence.

Perhaps, what Yu Yanli originally envisioned as "Four Dan, Dual Bing" could one day become "Dual Bing, Four Dan."

With this idea in mind, during breaks in filming, Yu Yanli began brainwashing Fan Xiaopang and Li Bingbing again.

Both were slightly tempted, but each had their own thoughts.

For instance, Li Bingbing actually wanted to try Hollywood, and while working with Yi'an once was fine, working with him multiple times might make Huayi uneasy.