Chapter 310
That evening, the members of the Teddy Sisterhood posted a group photo of their gathering on Weibo.
This is also a small custom within the Teddy Sisterhood.
For some gatherings, especially large ones with relatively complete attendance, if a group photo is taken, everyone usually agrees to post it together on social media—everyone must post it—as both a declaration of bonding and a way to express the Teddy Sisterhood's unity and camaraderie.
Of course, there are downsides to playing it this way.
For example, too many gatherings invite criticism from fans who accuse them of neglecting their careers, and some who attend infrequently due to prior commitments are questioned or subjected to media-driven narratives and gossip.
But overall, under the currently harmonious atmosphere of the Teddy Sisterhood, the benefits outweigh the drawbacks.
Especially for those with lesser fame like Xiong Naijin and Zhao Ke, the Teddy Sisterhood is their most important platform for exposure, so they're eager to post photos and interact.
Compared to before, this time the Teddy Sisterhood gained one more member: Yang Mi.
She not only posted group photos and @'ed Qin Lan in public interaction, but also chatted enthusiastically with Liu Yun, Ma Yili, Gan Wei, and others.
To fans and bystanders, this was just entertainment, maybe a bit surprising that Yang Mi had joined, but not particularly unusual.
After all, others had attended Teddy Sisterhood gatherings before; everyone has a few industry friends, and it's perfectly normal to tag along when the opportunity arises.
But while this meant little to outsiders, it shocked those who understood the relationship between Qin Lan and Dong Xuan, and between Yang Mi and Dong Xuan.
Has someone stolen her away?!
Or has Yang Mi transformed into Yan Li, boldly stepping on two boats at once?
The posts were made by Qin Lan and her group, but Dong Xuan was the one answering calls nonstop—endless inquiries and probing left Teacher Dong frazzled, cursing Qin Lan in her heart for causing her trouble.
Regarding Yang Mi, she and Qin Lan had a certain understanding, but never agreed to make it so public.
Upon closer thought, this was probably Qin Lan's deliberate move!
After all, Yang Mi's closeness to Dong Xuan was obvious; although Qin Lan agreed to ally with Dong Xuan against Fan Xiaopang, she feared Dong Xuan might pull a "White Robe Crossing the River" and secretly join forces with Yang Mi to undermine her.
Making it public—and seemingly aiming to bring Yang Mi into the Teddy Sisterhood—was a blatant message to everyone: Qin Lan was Yang Mi's backer, and Yang Mi's future success owed much to her.
In the future, if Yang Mi ever wanted to betray her, she'd have to weigh whether she'd be branded the ultimate example of ingratitude.
"Got smarter."
Dong Xuan muttered, such a straightforward ploy felt beyond Qin Lan's intellect—she suspected someone else was advising her behind the scenes.
The reason she thought this was because Yan Li had once taught her how to handle Yang Mi.
That girl isn't innocent—ambitious, cunning, a sharp blade to wield, but one that could easily cut you too.
So Yan Li had advised her on how to treat Yang Mi: keep her obedient, make her both respect and adore her, and never let her entertain hidden schemes.
If he could advise her, he might very well have advised Qin Lan too!
That whole bunch of low-level hangers-on in the Teddy Sisterhood—Qin Lan managed them with surprising discipline, never letting anything major go wrong, and she was quite useful in many matters.
This was absolutely not something Qin Lan could have achieved alone!
After pondering left and right, Dong Xuan gave up trying to figure it out and called Yan Li directly.
"I want to publicly declare Yang Mi is mine—how can I do it naturally, without seeming forced?"
Yan Li: "..."
You two play palace intrigue every day without using your brains, coming to the referee for advice—no wonder Fan Xiaopang looks down on you both.
Behind Yang Mi stands Qin Dong; behind Qin Dong stands Yan Li, who doesn't want Fan Xiaopang to dominate alone.
"You're her teacher—isn't it normal to attend class reunions or student gatherings?"
Though he inwardly scoffed, Yan Li still gave advice—Dong Xuan's eyes lit up; the teacher relationship was far stronger than any plastic sisterhood.
After hanging up, Yan Li tapped the table, pausing in thought.
Making Qin Dong and Yang Mi's relationship public brought her many advantages, but also turned her into an enemy in many eyes.
But taking sides is like that—it's hard to please both sides; Yang Mi stepping on two boats is already a stroke of luck. Without Fan Xiaopang—or even two years ago, when Qin Dong's relationship with her was terrible—she could've been crushed by both.
Now Yang Mi holds every advantage, and the company will offer resources and protection—if she still can't make it through, she's worthless.
Worthless people aren't worth Yan Li's attention!
…
In early March, Weibo's user base officially surpassed 8 million; it was expected to hit 10 million by mid- or late March, and if things went smoothly, even faster.
By then, the Snowstorm Incident had passed, and though the X-photo scandal still had lingering momentum, its peak had mostly faded.
So after Weibo surpassed 10 million users, it began to be tied directly to Yan Li's name for promotional momentum.
After this promotional wave, Weibo would further expand its influence, marking the end of its initial phase and establishing the strength and confidence to compete with major blogs, beginning its bid for the top spot in social media.
To stabilize Weibo's traffic, Yan Li partnered it with the early casting process for "The New Three Kingdoms."
As one of the Four Great Classical Novels, public interest in it needed no explanation; previously, "The New Dream of the Red Chamber" held a casting reality show that became one of the year's hottest talent competitions.
"The New Three Kingdoms" couldn't do a public casting—after all, "Dream of the Red Chamber" featured young boys and girls suitable for talent shows, while "Romance of the Three Kingdoms" centered on a group of older men, mostly requiring specialized and mature actors, impossible to force-fit into a talent-show mold.
But even without public casting, there was still massive traffic; just the question of who would play Zhuge Liang could spark thousands of comments.
Releasing real and fake rumors, conducting related interviews, posting audition clips and costume photos—if the heat died down, it would be blamed on the production team's and Weibo's poor promotion.
"The New Three Kingdoms" and Weibo understood this well; from the start, they included all the most popular stars.
Like Fan Xiaopang playing Diaochan, Young Master Zhou playing Xiao Qiao, Xiao Yanzi playing Gan Fu Ren, Huang Xiaoming playing Zhuge Liang, Liu Huohua playing Liu Bei, Chen Kun playing Zhou Yu, Tong Dawei playing Sun Quan, and so on.
Whether true or false, the heat was roaring—supporters, abusers, refuters, counter-arguers—some topics briefly rivaled the former Weibo Goddess.
After all, some female stars might be unfamiliar, but very few people had never heard of or never seen the Three Kingdoms, or didn't know Liu, Guan, and Zhang.
Whether Fan Xiaopang or Liu Tianxian was prettier could be resolved by personal taste; but who was stronger, Guan Yu or Zhao Yun? That had to be settled.
Amid the chaos, "The New Three Kingdoms" officially announced its first major role.
Nie Yuan would portray Zhao Yun, Zhao Zilong!
This role was one of the least controversial within "The New Three Kingdoms," chosen precisely to start on a strong note.
Nie Yuan himself had the handsome, heroic look; he had previously played Luo Cheng to high praise, so his portrayal of Zhao Yun, while not perfect, was still relatively fitting.
Indeed, though some still found fault, most reviews were positive.
But the subsequent casting decisions were far less smooth than Nie Yuan's; not only were there external controversies, but even internally, debates raged on.
The several names gradually announced were all well-known roles, yet none were central to the entire drama.
Da Qiao and Xiao Qiao — Dong Xuan, Tong Yaya
One of them was one of their own, the other simply looked alike — naturally, a pair of sisterly beauties.
Sima Yi — Zhang Songwen
At first, he was a top candidate for Liu Bei, but internal disputes persisted; later, when rumors were leaked to test public reaction, they sparked massive backlash.
Thus, Zhang Songwen missed out on Liu Bei and took on Sima Yi, a role with substantial screen time in the latter half.
This character appeared loyal but was truly treacherous; Zhang Songwen had previously portrayed Yang Guozhong in "The Legend of Yang Yuhuan," another role of a man who seemed virtuous on the surface but harbored hidden malice.
Zhou Yiwei — Cao Pi
He was originally considered for Sun Quan, but after reading the script, Zhou Yiwei found Cao Pi — a cunning heir overshadowed by his father and threatened by his younger brother — deeply compelling, and with ample scenes opposite his old classmate and close friend Zhang Songwen, he actively applied for the role of Cao Pi.
As a result, Lin Jiachuan also played Cao Zhen, Cao Pi's staunch ally, forming a trio that built the great state of Wei together.
Xun Yu — Guo Dongwen
Jia Xu — Wang Jingsong
Cheng Yu — Zhang Laiqu Zhi Jian
All three were poached from the set of "Ming Dynasty 1566."
Guo Dongwen's portrayal of Zhang Juzheng exuded the elegance of a refined gentleman, perfect for the virtuous Xun Yu.
Wang Jingsong played Yang Jinshui, Zhang Laiqu Zhi Jian played Yan Shifan — both villains — so they were cast as Jia Xu and Cheng Yu, the two poisonously clever strategists.
Later, it was unclear whether the production team was influenced by this, but they deemed the "Ming Dynasty 1566" cast's quality excellent and recruited even more actors.
Figures like Zheng Bichang, Zhao Zhenji, Gao Gong, Prince Yu, Huang Jin — none were Han-Wei ministers or regional lords and scholars — even the two Embroidered Uniform Guard, Qi Dazhu and Jin Song played Dian Wei, Zhu Qi and Yang Hanbin played Xiahou Dun.
Fortunately, Jiajing and Hai Rui didn't show up, or else "Ming Dynasty" would have come alive again in Eastern Han.
Besides "Ming Dynasty 1566," the "New Three Kingdoms" production team also had their eyes on the CCTV version of "Romance of the Three Kingdoms."
One could call it publicity, or one could understand it as homage!
The plan was to invite the old version's Liu Bei to play Liu Biao, the old version's Guan Yu and Zhang Fei to portray elderly generals connected to Guan and Zhang, the old version's Cao Cao to play a loyal minister of the Han court, the old version's Lu Bu to play Ding Yuan, the old version's Zhuge Liang to make a cameo as Zhuge Liang's father-in-law, the old version's Sun Shangxiang to play Wu Guotai, and so on.
Of course, this was merely a concept; whether they could secure these actors was uncertain, how many they could attract was uncertain, and whether such references would break immersion was still under consideration.
Additionally, interacting with the CCTV version of "Romance of the Three Kingdoms" had another advantage.
That was the inevitable comparison between the new and old versions.
Considering the entire project, "New Three Kingdoms" could never belittle or undermine itself; if it attacked the old version, it would lack conviction and risk backlash; if left unaddressed, others might manipulate the narrative.
Rather than that, "New Three Kingdoms" would lower its stance from the start, actively engage with the CCTV version, respect and pay homage to the old one.
In plain terms: seize the moral high ground!
If it succeeded, it would be "New Three Kingdoms" surpassing the old one with the old version's support.
If it failed, it would simply mean there was still room for improvement, and future generations should learn from the masters.
But no matter what, the two versions maintained a clear lineage, mutual affection, and excellent relations — none of you bastards have the right to sow discord here.
These supporting roles attracted considerable attention and sustained momentum, though controversy remained significant.
Yan Li had grown accustomed to this; since "The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng," any adapted drama's casting could never be perfect or satisfy everyone.
If Yan Li once merely didn't care, now he even hoped for greater controversy, because it energized Weibo.
No wonder the industry chain is so well-developed — even being criticized can make money.
Aside from a few core creators and key supporting roles that Yan Li personally participated in, most casting work was left to the "New Three Kingdoms" crew.
He only required final approval: if he felt a good role was mismatched, he sent it back for recasting.
Such cases were rare, since most actors were seasoned professionals, or unfamiliar to Yan Li, and their appearances were acceptable enough that he wouldn't burden the team with extra work.
Besides "New Three Kingdoms," Yan Li also paid close attention to the casting of the film "The Message."
Last year, "Painted Skin" was Yi An's first film project; this year, it was "The Message," with an investment of 60 to 80 million, publicly stated as 100 million.
"The Message" and "New Three Kingdoms" were Yi An's two fully controlled, highest-investment, and most prioritized projects for 2008.
Projects like "The Road of Righteousness" and "The Siege" were also major productions, but either their budgets were inferior or Yi An did not fully control them.
Even if Yan Li participated in them, his level of attention was lower; at the very least, he had not personally served as executive producer as he did for the two prior projects.
Nowadays, Yan Li rarely listed himself as producer, but for certain projects, he would be credited as producer or executive producer.
Such projects signified Yan Li's level of attention, even amounted to him personally overseeing them — "Painted Skin" had been just like that.
"The Message" began filming around the same time as "New Three Kingdoms," roughly in August.
Although time was still early, the actors had already been mostly selected!
The two female leads: the battalion commander who appeared to be a traitor but was actually a mole — Sun Honglei; Qiao Zhenyu played the actor Bai Xiaonian; the interrogated Jin Shenghuo was portrayed by Liang Guanhua.
Other minor supporting roles were less critical; Yi An assigned some, the director picked a few, and if those didn't work, they'd find others.
The two roles still undecided were the two villains: the Japanese officer Wu Tian and the Special Services chief Wang Tianxiang.
Originally, Yan Li was considered for one of them, but he refused to play a Japanese officer or a traitor, and frequent scenes with Sun Honglei might bore audiences; better to save the opportunity for the likely-to-be-made "Painted Skin 2."
Also, "The Message" was a main melody film, an anniversary tribute; the borderline "dual-bing rivalry" was already sensitive, and a love-triangle promotional strategy was utterly unsuitable for this project.
Since Yan Li wouldn't act, and the other key creators were all big stars, they sought established stars for these two roles.
Originally, Deng Chao was considered for the Japanese officer, but he was fully committed to "The Road of Righteousness"; compared to Sun Honglei, his pressure was greater, he dared not distract himself, and he still owed previous acting commitments.
Later, they considered Tong Dawei, but after a screen test, director Gao Qunshu found his appearance and demeanor too soft and weak, so they ultimately chose Liu Huahua.
As for the other role, Special Services chief, it was played by Wang Zhiwen.
Looking at this, "The Message" had a formidable cast: Sun Honglei, Liu Huahua, Wang Zhiwen, Qiao Zhenyu, Liang Guanhua, plus several cameo stars — absolutely blockbuster caliber.
And like "Painted Skin," it remained a fully mainland Chinese cast.
This was truly bold; after "Assembly," Feng Xiaogang's new film was rumored to invite Shu Dazui, yet Yan Li's two over-100-million-investment films both used entirely mainland Chinese actors.
It's only because there's another dual-weapon supporter holding things up; otherwise, even Yan Li would have to work hard to secure investment.
As for "October Siege," it's still in the funding stage; casting hasn't officially begun, and there'll be more arguing later.
To be honest, Yan Li doesn't trust Chen Kexin much now; he's probed her bottom line and formed a poor impression of her.
He will definitely send someone to oversee the "October Siege" project; taking a little money is fine—no film crew doesn't make extra cash—but if they think they can fool him, Yan Li will make them know who the real big shot is.
End of Chapter
