Chapter 309: October Siege: Does the Teddy Sisters

Jingcheng, Film Bureau

In a small meeting room, Yan Li was chatting idly with Fatty Yu; this old fellow had been riding high lately.

For the Spring Festival season, two major films: "The Assembly" was forced to withdraw early, with box office under 150 million.

"The Warlords" became the ultimate winner, breaking 200 million in box office, claiming the 2007 annual box office championship; Bona, as co-producer and distributor, was naturally delighted.

And this year's Spring Festival releases, "Seven Swords" and "Kung Fu Hustle."

The former was also co-produced and distributed by Bona; its box office, expected to surpass 200 million, would surely net Fatty Yu a handsome profit.

More importantly, in today's film market, Bona had now consecutively produced and distributed two films each earning over 200 million, once again proving its status as the leading domestic film distributor and significantly easing pressure from Huayi and Yi'an.

Fatty Yu's Bona was thriving, but Yan Li's Yi'an was doing quite well too.

Because Yi'an was also one of the distributors for "The Assembly" and "The Warlords," and for "Kung Fu Hustle," Yi'an was the main domestic distributor.

Bona may have the reputation, but Yi'an's track record wasn't Bai Hun.

Having continuously participated in the distribution of several major films, and with modestly budgeted films like "Message from the Future" performing well, Yi'an's distribution business had steadily risen in the industry.

Now, film crews were approaching Yi'an to collaborate, seeking independent or primary distribution.

"Kung Fu Hustle" was just like that: Wong Jing's Oriental Film made the connection; Oriental handled Hong Kong, Taiwan, and overseas, while Yi'an handled mainland distribution.

Keep in mind, when "Kung Fu Hustle" premiered, it was during the snowstorm season, which was highly unfavorable for film releases.

But Yi'an overcame all difficulties, leveraging its own strengths and channels, combined with the film's advantages, lifting its mainland box office to 130 million, making lead actor Jay Chou a new box office sensation.

Such a string of achievements still fell short of matching Bona or Huayi as industry leaders, let alone competing with state-owned giants like China Film, Shanghai Film, or Huaxia.

But it had successfully secured a seat at the table, beginning to compete with other distribution companies in the market.

As the two were chatting, Zhang Weiping from Xin Huamian walked in, plopped down beside them, and said nothing.

Fatty Yu winked at Yan Li, whispering with a touch of schadenfreude: "You say he doesn't make films, then why come to meetings?"

Since the end of 2006, after "House of Flying Daggers" premiered, Old Master Zhang had been busy with the Olympic opening ceremony, and for over a year now, Xin Huamian had simply ground to a halt.

Yan Li also shook his head: "You say Xin Huamian isn't short of money or staff, yet they just sit around waiting?"

He understood Xin Huamian relied on Old Master Zhang, but it didn't have to cling to him so desperately; considering other development paths would benefit the company more.

"Hmph, put nicely, it's a company; put bluntly, it's just Zhang's personal studio—everyone circling around Zhang's projects, used to making easy money, now lacking both motivation and guts to pursue other ventures."

Fatty Yu looked down on Xin Huamian, or perhaps felt a bit jealous.

Other film companies, no matter how well they performed, were all legitimate businesses; Xin Huamian just clung to Old Master Zhang's leg to survive.

Yan Li had similar thoughts, but he also understood Xin Huamian's approach.

Why risk it when you can just lie back and earn? Besides, without Old Master Zhang, others might not buy their films.

Yan Li's personality was cautious and suspicious; he could never place a company's future on one man—too risky, too limiting.

As for Boss Zhang, who knows—he might be counting on a lifelong partnership with Old Master Zhang.

Soon after, everyone arrived: last year's meeting had six private film companies—Huayi, Bona, Starlight, Xin Huamian, Chengtian, and Yi'an.

This year, a newcomer joined: Wang, boss of Guangxian Media.

Actually, Guangxian had begun laying groundwork for its film business in 2006, but back then, it hadn't yet gained significant influence, so it didn't make the table.

But in 2007, Guangxian invested in and distributed multiple films, performing quite well.

Though Guangxian Media was a newcomer to the film industry, it was powerful, actively aligned with the authorities, and thus became the seventh private film company at the Film Bureau meeting.

It's foreseeable that with the film industry booming, the number of companies attending future meetings will only grow.

But who knows—amid the turbulent market, will some of the old faces here suddenly "disappear"?

The meeting had nothing new—mostly the same old routine, then discussions on key projects from several companies, and talk about next year's tribute films.

Oh, this time they specifically mentioned the issue of "scale butt."

Many in the room turned sharply to Wang Zhongjun, who had come to the meeting; some glanced at Yan Li.

Everyone in the industry knew what happened with "The Assembly."

Some supported Yan Li's actions; others disliked his meddling, but faced with this energetic young man, most still smiled politely.

Yet Wang Zhongjun of Huayi remained calm; after the meeting, he invited Yan Li to dinner.

Yan Li didn't refuse—he wanted to feel out Huayi, see if they were scheming behind his back.

Seeing Yan Li meet with Huayi, Fatty Yu also showed up; Qin, boss of Starlight, joined in; soon, the others couldn't stay away—they dragged along several cinema chain bosses, and everyone gathered for a small get-together.

Industry gatherings naturally involved discussions on the current film market.

Last year, only three Chinese-language films broke 100 million: two from the Spring Festival season—"The Assembly" and "The Warlords"—and "Lust, Caution," which came close to the holiday.

This year, before March even ended, two films had already broken 100 million: "Seven Swords" and "Kung Fu Hustle."

Beyond those, several other films showed strong potential.

"Boss Yan, your Yi'an's 'Painted Skin,' Boss Wu's Chengtian's 'Red Cliff,' Boss Wang's Huayi's 'Kung Fu Panda,' and Director Chen's 'Mei Lanfang'—these four are guaranteed to break 100 million."

Fatty Yu listed this year's hot films—all recognized blockbusters, some even expected to surpass the box office record of "House of Flying Daggers."

Yan Li shook his head: "Brother Yu, your info's outdated—Huayi is currently preparing Feng's next comedy; that's his specialty, easily breaking 100 million."

Starlight's Qin boss chimed in: "I remember Yi'an has another film, 'Love in the Peach Blossom Season'—strong cast; the first two 'Message from the Future' films did well; are you making the third? If so, it's a promising prospect."

Other bosses added more examples; Guangxian's Wang chuckled.

"Add it all up, this year's going to be a massive box office year—maybe all top ten will break 100 million. The market's looking great."

Everyone smiled broadly; whether it would happen or not, it was certainly a good omen.

We're all in this business—when the market thrives, we all thrive.

But Boss Zhang of Xin Huamian suddenly sighed: "Too bad 'The Emperor and the Assassin' flopped; otherwise, we'd have another 100-million film."

At this, Fatty Yu's face darkened.

Bona had been riding high these months, but it hadn't escaped setbacks—"The Emperor and the Assassin" was one such failure.

"The Emperor and the Assassin" had an investment over 100 million; Bona was the Lead Producer, bringing in Hong Kong stars like Anita Yuen, Donnie Yen, and Li Tianwang—but box office barely reached 40 million, a catastrophic loss.

I don't know whether Boss Zhang is just emotionally clueless, or if he's jealous watching the other bosses profit, or if he overheard Yu Pangzi and Yan Li's whispered conversation.

Either way, that remark shattered Yu Pangzi's composure—he would've cursed outright if the setting weren't inappropriate.

Yan Li and Yu Pangzi were close; he wouldn't defend him outright, but he helped smooth things over, shifting the topic.

"By the way, there's a Hong Kong director named Chen Desen who's scrambling for investment—has anyone heard of him?"

"He came to me."

Star Beauty's Boss Qin spoke up: "But this guy's appetite is way too big—over twenty million U. S. dollars in investment. Can he even break even?"

Yu Pangzi added: "I've heard of this project for years—it's been chasing investment all along, and there were even legal disputes in between."

"Mm."

Yan Li explained that when the project was first mentioned in the late 90s, the investment was too massive and no one cared; after waiting years, they finally found an investor—then things went wrong.

Now, the project has resurfaced because Chen Desen got Chen Kexin to help; she took on the role of producer and spearheaded bringing in Shanghai Media Group to build a Hong Kong city.

Although the film "The Promise" lost money, its performance wasn't bad, and it boosted Chen Kexin's reputation.

Projects she leads still attract plenty of backers.

For instance, Star Beauty's Boss Qin perked up the moment he heard Chen Kexin's name; Yu Pangzi also fell into thought.

"Boss Yan, your Yi'an also participated in the investment."

Yan Li smiled without answering—Yi'an didn't invest, but Ju Xin, which he led the financiers to form, did; Yi'an thus secured the film's distribution rights.

To be honest, he had mixed feelings about this film—somewhat optimistic, but not fully convinced.

And he thought the investment's cost-benefit ratio was low, so he had Ju Xin invest.

It wasn't about screwing the financiers; Yan Li believed the film still had profit potential, just uncertain how much, and Yi'an's capital was limited—no need to pour it into these outside projects.

The reason he preferred investing in "October Siege" over Yi'an's own films had to do with some financiers' preferences.

These financiers gave money to Ju Xin for Yan Li to manage, yes, to make money—but many also had needs for face and showing off.

So among them, many were blockbuster fans, idolizing star-studded epics, feeling that participating in such projects was thrilling; even those more focused on profit, seeing the box office charts, believed blockbusters were safer.

Although Yan Li held considerable control over Ju Xin's funds, he couldn't ignore the financiers' preferences.

So he tended to direct Ju Xin's capital toward blockbusters and big productions—partly to share financial pressure, partly to satisfy the financiers' demands.

As for projects that looked mediocre on the surface but offered higher returns than blockbusters, those had to be handled by Yi'an alone.

No choice—the financiers didn't care about small sums; they loved projects requiring hundreds of millions in investment and earning hundreds of millions at the box office, regardless of actual profit—what mattered was the thrill and the face.

Of course, beyond that, Yan Li didn't know whether there were other hidden demands or maneuvers.

Either way, Yi'an and Ju Xin's contracts were fully legal, transparent, and clear—whatever they did privately was personal, and had nothing to do with Yan Li.

Although Yan Li invested some money in "October Siege," it still wasn't enough, so today he also took the chance to promote it, seeing if he could find partners.

Yu Pangzi was tempted, but when he heard the distribution rights went to Yi'an, his interest faded.

Star Beauty's Boss Qin was more enthusiastic and even scheduled a meeting; Orange Sky's Boss Wu hesitated but stayed silent.

Hua Yi's Wang Zhongjun never showed any reaction throughout.

The "October Siege" project clearly involved Yan Li deeply; securing distribution rights meant actors would also want a share.

In this situation, Bo Na and Star Beauty were fine—they could offer help with distribution and theater access beyond just capital.

Orange Sky and Hua Yi each had large rosters of artists, and their other businesses overlapped heavily with Yi'an's; unless Yan Li absolutely couldn't secure investment, he had no reason to cooperate with them.

Hua Yi had Feng Xiaogang and plenty of other film collaborations, so they sat comfortably on Taishan.

Orange Sky, aside from "Red Cliff," had few standout film projects, so they couldn't help but be tempted.

Unfortunately, Yan Li and Boss Wu had a strained relationship; the latter simply couldn't bring himself to lower his pride.

Guangxian's Old Wang, unaware of the details, held back; Zhang Boss of New Screen remained utterly unmoved.

The gathering broke up; everyone returned home, or paired off for the next event.

Star Beauty's Boss Qin invited everyone to Tian Shang Ren Jian; Yu Pangzi eagerly went to enjoy himself, but Yan Li declined.

Once or twice was novel; after that, it was just routine—no matter how famous the courtesans or top girls, they couldn't compare to real movie stars.

————

Yan Li arrived at the Palm Springs Apartments; Huo Siyan and Li Xiaolu, who had been notified in advance, were already waiting.

He'd been busy lately, irritable and restless, wanting to speed—so he called Li Xiaolu, who enjoyed high-speed drives.

Huo Siyan wasn't just an afterthought; this little vixen had gotten into the internet, her insight skyrocketing—she could always spot new demands, solve new pain points, address user issues without blind spots, and occasionally propose innovative strategies for new tactics.

One could endure pain, the other brought novelty—letting Yan Li feel satisfied while keeping things fresh.

Since the Lunar New Year, Yan Li had called on them far more often than all of last year combined.

The storm had passed; Li Xiaolu was mentally drifting off as usual. Yan Li traced Huo Siyan's mole and asked:

"Be honest with me—did you delete the photos?"

Yan Li's women, when keeping mementos, were generally cautious; someone like Jiang Xin, who thought ahead, never touched such things at all.

The most reckless were Wang Ou and Huo Siyan; Wang Ou was better—she at least had some restraint, taking photos but never showing her face; Huo Siyan was utterly unrestrained, almost ready to set up a camera.

Yan Li used to not care, but now he knew the stakes—he deleted what needed deleting, hid what needed hiding, prioritizing caution above all.

He'd previously told Huo Siyan to handle it, and she agreed—but the system showed she'd kept some behind.

This raised some suspicion in Yan Li—he didn't know what Huo Siyan intended to do with them.

Threaten him?

Chen Laoshi's fate was right before his eyes; Yan Li couldn't help but overthink, and some photos included Li Xiaolu—potentially illegal.

Huo Siyan sensed the faint displeasure in Yan Li's tone and quickly explained:

"No, I didn't mean anything by it."

Huo Siyan glanced at Li Xiaolu, leaned close to Yan Li's ear, and whispered: "I think she's too wild—who knows if she'll cause trouble one day? Keeping some backup, just in case."

Worried Yan Li wouldn't believe her, Huo Siyan analyzed it further—the photos contained Yan Li, but also her.

Yan Li hadn't wronged her in any way; she had no reason to keep this backup—if the photos really leaked, Yan Li might not suffer much, but her life would be over.

Targeting Li Xiaolu wasn't about exposing the photos, only using them as a threat to intimidate.

If Yan Li still didn't believe her, she could hand the photos over to him to deal with, to prove her innocence.

"Don't give them to me. Delete them all."

Yan Li waved his hand; he didn't care if Li Xiaolu tried to provoke him—he had the confidence to crush her if she dared, and keeping these photos was meaningless and despicable.

"Understood. I'll delete them when I get back."

Huo Siyan nodded. Yan Li glanced at her: if she listened this time, fine; if not, their relationship was over.