Chapter 309: October Siege: Is a New Member Joining the Teddy Sisterhood?

Beijing, Film Bureau

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

For the New Year slot, two major films were released; "The Assembly" was forced to withdraw early, earning less than 150 million.

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

Meanwhile, the two films that dominated the Spring Festival season were "Seven Swords" and "Kung Fu Hustle."

The former was also co-produced and distributed by Bona; its projected box office exceeding 200 million would bring Yu Fatty substantial profits.

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

Yu Fatty'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 was the main domestic distributor for "Kung Fu Hustle."

Bona may have the reputation, but Yi'an's track record wasn't earned by accident.

Having consistently participated in the distribution of several major films, and with modest successes like "Message from the Future," Yi'an's film distribution business had steadily risen in industry standing.

Now, film crews were approaching Yi'an to collaborate, seeking it as the sole or primary distributor.

"Kung Fu Hustle" was exactly like that: Hong Kong's Oriental Film brokered the deal, handling Hong Kong, Taiwan, and overseas distribution, while Yi'an handled mainland distribution.

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

Yet Yi'an overcame all difficulties, leveraging its unique strengths and channels, combined with the film's advantages, to push its mainland box office to 130 million, turning its lead actor, Jay Chou, into the industry's hottest new star.

Such a string of achievements still fell short of matching Bona or Huayi as industry leaders, and couldn't even compare with state-owned giants like China Film, Shanghai Film, or Huaxia.

But it had successfully secured a seat at the table and begun competing with other distribution companies in the market.

As the two chatted, Zhang Weiping entered with a new scene, plopped down beside them, and said nothing.

Yu Fatty winked at Yan Li, whispering with a touch of glee: "You say he doesn't make films—then why the hell is he even here at meetings?"

Since the end of 2006, after "House of Flying Daggers" premiered, Old Master had been busy with the Olympic opening ceremony, and for over a year now, New Picture had simply halted all production.

Yan Li also shook his head: "You say New Picture isn't short on money or staff—so why just sit around waiting?"

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

"Hmph, call it a company if you want to be polite; call it what it really is—a personal studio for Director Zhang, with the entire company revolving around his projects. They've grown used to making money lying down, with no drive or guts to pursue anything else."

Yu Fatty looked down on New Picture—or perhaps he was jealous.

Other film companies, no matter how well or poorly they performed, at least ran proper businesses; New Picture just clung to Old Master's coattails to survive.

Yan Li had similar thoughts, but he also understood New Picture's strategy.

Why risk it when you can just lie back and make money? Besides, without Old Master, no one else would buy their films.

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

As for Boss Zhang, who knows—he might be counting on partnering with Old Master for life.

Soon after, everyone arrived. Last year, six private film companies attended: Huayi, Bona, Starlight, New Picture, Orange Sky, and Yi'an.

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

Actually, Light Media had begun laying groundwork in film since 2006, but back then, it hadn't yet gained any real influence, so it wasn't invited.

But in 2007, Light Media invested in and distributed several films, performing quite well.

Though Light Media was new to the film industry, it was strong in resources and actively aligned itself with official circles, becoming the seventh private film company invited to the Film Bureau meetings.

It's foreseeable that as the film industry booms, more companies will join these meetings in the future.

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

The meeting followed the usual routine: mostly old talk, then discussions on key projects from several companies, and a mention of next year's tribute films.

Oh, this time they specifically brought up the issue of censorship.

Many in the room turned to look at Wang Zhongjun, some glancing briefly 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 even 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, Yu Fatty went too; Qin Lao of Starlight joined in, and soon the others couldn't stay away—they dragged along several cinema chain bosses, and everyone gathered for a small get-together.

Naturally, industry gatherings always involve discussions about the current film market.

Last year, only three Chinese-language films surpassed 100 million: two from the New Year slot—"The Assembly" and "The Warlords"—and "Lust, Caution," which came close to the New Year season.

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

Besides these, several other films showed strong potential.

"Director Yan, your Yi'an's 'Painted Skin,' Boss Wu's Orange Sky'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."

Yu Fatty listed this year's hot projects—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 a comedy directed by Feng Dao—it's his specialty, easily breaking 100 million."

Qin Lao of Starlight chimed in: "I remember Yi'an also has '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; Wang of Light Media smiled.

"Add them up, this year's going to be a blockbuster year—maybe even the 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 New Picture suddenly sighed: "Too bad 'The Emperor and the Assassin' flopped—otherwise we'd have another 100-million film."

At this, Yu Fatty's face dropped.

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

"The Emperor and the Assassin" cost over 100 million to produce; Bona was the lead producer, bringing in Hong Kong stars like Teresa Carpio, Donnie Yen, and Leon Lai—but it only grossed 40 million, a massive loss.

Was Boss Zhang just socially clueless, or did he resent seeing others profit while New Picture sat idle? Or perhaps he'd overheard Yu Fatty and Yan Li's earlier whispers.

Either way, the jab hit Yu Fatty hard—he nearly exploded, but the setting kept him silent.

Yan Li was close to Yu Fatty; he wouldn't fight his battles, but he helped defuse the tension, shifting the topic.

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

"He came to me."

Qin Lao of Starlight spoke up: "But his demands are huge—over 20 million U. . dollars. Can he even break even?"

Yu Fatty 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: The project was first mentioned in the late 90s, but the budget was too high, so no one cared. After waiting years, an investor finally came on board—then things fell apart.

Now the project has revived because Chen Desen got Chen Kexin involved; she's serving as producer and has secured funding from Shanghai Media Group to build a replica Hong Kong city.

Though "The Warlords" lost money, its performance wasn't bad—it boosted Chen Kexin's reputation.

Projects she leads still attract plenty of interest.

For instance, Starlight's Qin Lao perked up at the mention of Chen Kexin; Yu Fatty also looked thoughtful.

"Director Yan, your Yi'an has also invested."

Yan Li smiled without answering—Yi'an hadn't invested directly, but the fund he led, Juxin, had; Yi'an thus secured the distribution rights.

To be honest, he was somewhat optimistic about the film, but not fully convinced.

He also felt the investment's ROI was low, so he had Juxin invest instead.

It wasn't a scam on the investors; Yan Li believed the film could still turn a profit, just uncertain how much. Yi'an's capital was limited, so it wasn't wise to pour money into outside projects.

Why prefer "October Siege" over Yi'an's own films? It largely came down to the investors' preferences.

These investors gave money to Juxin for Yan Li to manage, not just to make money—they also craved status and bragging rights.

Among them, many were blockbusters fans, drawn to star-studded epics, believing such projects were more prestigious—even those primarily seeking profit saw big-budget films as safer bets.

Though Yan Li held strong control over Juxin's funds, he couldn't ignore the investors' wishes.

So he preferred directing Juxin's capital toward big films and major productions—partly to share financial pressure, partly to satisfy investor demands.

Projects that looked mediocre on the surface but offered higher returns than blockbusters? Those were left to Yi'an alone.

No choice—the investors didn't care about small profits; they loved projects costing hundreds of millions, aiming for billions in box office, regardless of actual returns—what mattered was the thrill and the prestige.

Of course, beyond this, Yan Li didn't know what other private deals or manipulations might be happening.

All contracts between Yi'an and Juxin were legal and transparent; whatever they did privately was their own business, with no connection to Yan Li.

Though Yan Li had invested some money in "October Siege," it still wasn't enough, so today he also used the occasion to promote it, hoping to find a co-investor.

Yu Fatty was tempted, but when he learned the distribution rights had gone to Yi'an, his interest waned.

Qin Lao of Starlight was more enthusiastic and even scheduled a meeting; Wu Lao of Orange Sky hesitated but stayed silent.

Wang Zhongjun of Huayi never showed any reaction.

The "October Siege" project clearly had Yan Li deeply involved—he'd secured distribution rights and likely a share of the cast.

In this situation, Bona and Starlight were fine—they could offer funding and help with distribution and cinema chains.

Orange Sky and Huayi each had large rosters of artists, and their other businesses overlapped heavily with Yi'an's; unless they truly couldn't find other investors, Yan Li had no reason to partner with them.

Huayi had Feng Xiaogang and plenty of other film collaborations—it could sit comfortably.

Orange Sky, aside from "Red Cliff," had no standout projects, so it was naturally tempted.

Unfortunately, Yan Li and Wu Lao had a strained relationship; the latter simply couldn't bring himself to ask.

Wang of Light Media, unaware of the details, held back; Boss Zhang of New Picture remained completely indifferent.

The gathering ended, everyone returned home—or headed off in small groups to the next event.

Qin Lao of Starlight invited everyone to Tian Shang Ren Jian; Yu Fatty eagerly accepted, but Yan Li politely declined.

Once or twice is fresh, but go too often and it's just the same—no matter how famous the courtesan, she can't compare to a real movie star.

————

Yan Li arrived at Palm Springs Apartments; Hu Siyan and Li Xiao had already been waiting, as he'd warned them ahead.

He'd been busy with work lately, irritable and restless, craving speed—so he called Li Xiao, who enjoyed being driven fast.

Hu Siyan wasn't just along for the ride; this little vixen had gotten into the internet, her insight skyrocketing, always spotting new demands and solving new pain points, covering every angle, occasionally even offering innovative suggestions for new tactics.

One handled the stress, the other brought novelty—letting Yan Li feel released while keeping things fresh.

Since the New Year, Yan Li had seen them more times than all of last year combined.

The storm had passed; Li Xiao was mentally checked out as usual. Yan Li traced Hu Siyan's mole and asked:

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

Yan Li's women were usually cautious about keeping mementos; Jiang Xin, who thought ahead, never touched such things at all.

The wildest were Wang Ou and Hu Siyan—the former at least had some restraint, taking pictures but never showing faces; the latter was reckless, almost ready to set up a camera.

Yan Li used to not care, but now he knew the stakes: delete what must be deleted, hide what must be hidden—play it safe above all.

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

This stirred some unease in Yan Li—he didn't know what she intended by keeping them.

To threaten him?

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

Hu Siyan sensed the faint irritation in his tone and quickly explained:

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

Hu Siyan glanced at Li Xiao, leaned close to Yan Li's ear, and whispered: "I think she's too wild—who knows when she might cause trouble? I kept some, just in case."

To make sure he believed her, Hu Siyan pointed out the photos included him—but also her.

Yan Li had done nothing wrong to her; she had no reason to keep this backup. If the photos ever leaked, he might not suffer much—but her life would be over.

It wasn't about exposing Li Xiao—just using the photos as a threat to keep her in line.

If he still didn't believe her, she'd hand the photos over to him to delete, to prove her innocence.

"No need to give them to me—delete them all."

Yan Li waved his hand; he didn't care if Li Xiao tried to stir trouble—he had confidence he could crush her. These photos were meaningless and beneath him.

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

Hu Siyan nodded. Yan Li looked at her—this time, if she obeyed, fine; if not, their relationship was over.