Chapter 319: New Cinema Landscape: Cat vs. Dog Battle, Dark Horse and New Film

July arrived, and the summer film season kicked off.

In fact, the summer film season had already begun by late June, with the best-performing film being the animated movie *Kung Fu Panda*.

This Hollywood animated film blends China's national treasure, kung fu, and ancient Chinese elements.

Though many aspects feel incongruous, the characters are likable, the action is solid, and the production is polished—it's been warmly received domestically, with box office nearing 150 million yuan in just over a week, and over ten million yuan in Taiwan.

Outside North America, this film's box office in China is among the highest overseas earnings.

Yan Li paid attention to this film because Yi'an Cinema Chain made money from it.

Animated films primarily attract parents with children and trend-following couples; Yi'an's community-oriented strategy is beginning to show its power.

Compared to ordinary cinemas, Yi'an offers more amenities, better service, and diverse entertainment—it no longer limits itself to just watching movies, delivering an exceptional experience.

Though Yi'an still can't match Wanda's foundation of integrated entertainment complexes, it can easily outperform ordinary cinema chains.

If Yi'an cinemas were located within China Resources' integrated complexes or major commercial districts, they could achieve Wanda's results—or even surpass them.

So far, Wanda has mainly pursued market expansion, while Yi'an, even as it expands, has consistently focused on deepening, refining, branding, and community-integrating its cinemas.

In short, if you can't compete on scale, compete on service—create a distinctive advantage.

Ideally, establish a fixed audience perception: Wanda is large and convenient; Yi'an is refined and comfortable, steadily attracting its target customers.

Under these conditions, for specific films like *Kung Fu Panda*, Yi'an Cinema Chain—which already ranks among the top in industry scale—can deliver outstanding results.

A few days ago, Yan Li reviewed Yi'an's half-year data; the cinema chain's cumulative box office has approached one hundred million yuan.

With two key periods ahead—the summer season and the New Year season—a doubling of revenue should be achievable, though the exact figure depends on execution.

In today's cinema market, Wanda has begun to rise and may challenge China Film StarMedia for the top spot this year.

Shanghai United, the perennial number two, has slipped to third but still maintains stable advantages.

China Film South Line, centered in the Pearl River Delta, is one of the fastest-improving chains this year, vying with traditional powerhouse New Film Alliance for fourth and fifth place.

These five cinema chains form the absolute first tier, with outstanding scale and box office—Yi'an currently cannot match them.

Its rival is Guangzhou Golden Eagle Pearl River Cinema Chain, a chain rooted in South China and expanding nationwide, the clear leader below the first tier.

Based on first-half 2008 box office data, the two are competing for sixth and seventh place; Golden Eagle Pearl River, with higher market concentration and more screens, holds the advantage.

As for lower-ranked chains like Zhejiang Times, Liaoning North, and Sichuan Pacific.

Though all are developing well, they remain primarily regional; compared to national chains, they still lag behind and pose little threat unless major changes occur.

After reaching the top ten in cinema chain scale, Yi'an's established goal of entering the top ten in box office should not be an issue.

But moving up further—say, into the top five—becomes much harder.

Even New Film Alliance, ranked fifth, earned nearly 200 million yuan in half a year, operates about eighty cinemas, and has nearly 250 screens—it was firmly in the top three just two years ago.

But every hurdle is overcome one step at a time.

Compared to New Film Alliance, plagued by problems and declining, Yi'an Cinema Chain is advancing rapidly, with broader prospects and stronger momentum.

…

Compared to Hollywood blockbusters, the industry places greater emphasis on the domestic epic *Red Cliff: Part I*.

China Film and Orange Sky pulled out all the stops, even securing live broadcast rights from Beijing Television—a rarity among major releases.

Considering China Film's prestige and Fan Xiaopang's involvement, and since Yi'an is also one of the distributors of *Red Cliff*, Yan Li attended.

The Bloggate incident posed no serious threat to Yan Li, but it did have some impact; out of caution, he avoided public appearances.

Only recently, after submitting official news to his superiors proving there was no issue, did Yan Li re-emerge.

This time, Yan Li appeared publicly with Fan Xiaopang, sparking media frenzy and wild speculation about palace intrigues.

This year's entertainment gossip has been dominated by the X-Zhao scandal, followed by Yan Li's Bloggate.

Bloggate originally referred to celebrities humiliated by anonymous comments, but because Yan Li was so prominent, it became his solo drama, evolving into rumors of tangled romantic entanglements and the commercial battle between blogs and microblogs.

Because of the last point, Yan Li was slightly annoyed—he felt it merely boosted blog traffic, and he'd rather call it Weibo Gate.

He even considered deleting his blog account to avoid being set up again by Sina.

But blogs don't have a delete function, nor do microblogs—unlike later versions with fifteen-day cooling-off periods; the feature was too useless and would be refined later.

But if you can't delete, you can erase all posted content, leaving only an empty account—effectively equivalent to deletion.

Yan Li's attitude toward Bloggate is mixed: good because it brings traffic, bad because no one wants their private life endlessly scrutinized.

Stirring up scandals is for profit; without profit, Yan Li isn't willing to have his personal affairs endlessly dragged out.

Fortunately, entertainment circles always have gossip; with his Weibo account, Yan Li can gently guide attention, and once this wave passes, it'll fade.

If needed, he can introduce other figures to share the spotlight and maintain Weibo traffic—like the annual "Four Young Masters of Beijing" from the intelligence circle.

Wang Dashao has gone low-key; Wang Ke has calmed down since marrying.

Wang Le and Wang Xiaofei have been more active: the former is romantically linked with multiple actresses, fueling constant rumors; the latter has recently been seen often with Zhang Yuqi, the new star of *Chang Jiang Seven*, playing out the rich girl-meets-star drama.

Yan Li is too busy to personally stir up gossip every day; audiences grow tired of the same faces; new faces are more refreshing.

For the crew, Yan Li is a guest—he appears on the red carpet, says a few words, then heads inside.

Fan Xiaopang and the main cast are the real focus, the real chance to shine; Fan Xiaopang spent half a day on her look and wore custom-made clothing.

The effect was excellent—her beauty and fame instantly outshone countless cameras.

But Yan Li also thought Lin Zhiling looked good; though darker, his height and modeling background gave him strong stage presence—he actually gains advantage on such red carpets.

Poor Xiao Songjia, who played Lady Li, and the actress portraying Madam Mi—their spotlight was stolen, their presence painfully minimal.

When the main cast entered the venue, Yan Li strode forward, greeted Director Wu, ignored Fan Xiaopang, and instead looked at Hu Jun with concern.

"What happened to you?"

The guy had been wheeled in today, startling Yan Li.

*Three Kingdoms: The New Era* is about to start filming; the early episodes focus on Liu, Guan, and Zhang—they can't wait for him.

Hu Jun tapped his wheelchair and smiled bitterly: "Don't mention it—I got injured while filming a Tang Dynasty movie."

Yan Li asked further; the injury wasn't severe, but Hu Jun couldn't stand yet—he found crutches unattractive, so he opted for the wheelchair.

Still, Hu Jun's recovery will delay *Three Kingdoms: The New Era*, but the schedule can barely accommodate it.

The key is smooth recovery—if his rehabilitation stalls or he decides to rest longer, things could get messy.

Moreover, Guan Yu's role involves heavy filming and many action scenes; whether Hu Jun, freshly recovered, can handle it remains uncertain.

Yan Li chatted with Hu Jun, urged him to focus on healing, and immediately reported the news to the *Three Kingdoms: The New Era* crew.

From Hu Jun's tone, he still wants to play Guan Yu—it's a uniquely tempting role for any actor, and he's optimistic about his recovery.

But the crew can't rely on an actor's personal wishes; they must prepare a backup plan—if Hu Jun can't perform, they need a quick replacement, like Yu Rongguang, who previously competed for the role.

Personally, Yan Li hopes Hu Jun can play Guan Yu.

Leaving aside fame, though Hu Jun's appearance slightly deviates from the ideal, he has one major advantage: exceptional acting skill.

Because of his role as Qiao Feng, many automatically label him a martial arts actor, but he's actually a graduate of the Central Academy of Drama, with outstanding dramatic ability.

Whether as Qiao Feng, Zhu Yuanzhang, Fu Chai, or in *Infernal Affairs*, *Blue Gate Crossing*, or *Assembly*, he's delivered outstanding performances and compelling character portrayals.

Actors like Lu Shuming, who perfectly embody both spirit and form, are rare; the rest either capture the spirit or the appearance.

Hu Jun was chosen for *Three Kingdoms: The New Era* precisely because he had the absolute acting edge among all candidates—he could portray the spirit of Guan Yu: pride, loyalty, righteousness, benevolence, and strategy.

His rival, Yu Rongguang, while slightly better in height, has a superficial understanding of the character and weaker acting.

To put it bluntly, the Guan Yu he portrayed had his eyes practically on his forehead—he was even more deserving of a beating than Lu Bu.

Actors aren't afraid of poor technique—they're terrified of not thinking, of failing to understand the character; the harder they try, the worse the result.

Yan Li silently wished Hu Jun a smooth recovery; if Yu Rongguang had to replace him, it would be a nightmare.

For the rest of the time, Yan Li was transparent—so transparent that some were surprised.

Because everyone knew he was filming *Three Kingdoms: The New Era*; given the massive hype around *Red Cliff*, it seemed odd for Yan Li not to ride the wave, given his personality.

But Yan Li remained calm—he'd considered it, but after watching the original *Red Cliff*, he abandoned the idea.

He feared it would damage *Three Kingdoms: The New Era*'s reputation.

Even if *Three Kingdoms: The New Era* doesn't match the CCTV version of *Romance of the Three Kingdoms*, its plot is grounded in historical sources and carefully refined—it won't sink to the level of this "cute and standing up" trash.

How could anyone think up such a line?

Yan Li saw this line and glanced at Han Sanye's face—he could visibly see the man's lips twitch, likely equally stunned.

After the screening, a reporter asked a question; Yan Li couldn't ruin the event publicly: "The battle scenes are grand and majestic, the costumes and props are exquisitely crafted, rich with traditional Chinese cultural symbols, and the actors are handsome and beautiful—I learned a lot from it."

The sets and costumes were decent, the actors were attractive, and promoting culture deserves praise—everything else was garbage.

But Yan Li's final remark wasn't just politeness—he genuinely learned something; learning from failure is still learning.

Later, he planned to organize the *Three Kingdoms: The New Era* crew to watch *Red Cliff* together, to see how Director Wu stumbled, and then avoid those pitfalls during filming.

In truth, beyond personal taste, Yan Li truly owed Director Wu a thank-you.

Regardless of everything, *Red Cliff* sparked a Three Kingdoms craze, laying the market groundwork for *Three Kingdoms: The New Era*.

It also provided a safety net—no matter how bad *Three Kingdoms: The New Era* turned out, it couldn't be worse than *Red Cliff*; in fact, by contrast, it might even gain some positive reception.

Therefore, Yan Li specifically attended the post-premiere banquet for *Red Cliff* and toasted Director Wu, thanking him for his help with *Three Kingdoms: The New Era*.

He also used the occasion to arrange a Weibo exclusive interview—*Red Cliff* may be terrible, but its buzz was undeniable; Weibo should benefit from the glow.

Besides Director Wu, Yan Li also chatted with Jin Chengwu.

July marked the rise of Weibo's male idols; besides those previously mentioned, Jin was another major sensation with extremely high popularity.

This was natural—Jin was universally recognized as handsome, not just by women but also by many men; he was in a career ascent phase, with relatively lower national recognition but solid fanbase and popularity.

Yan Li wanted him to open a Weibo account; Jin Chengwu said he needed his agent's approval.

At this time, Hong Kong and Taiwan stars were more commercialized, especially top-tier celebrities—everything had to be negotiated for money, and many distrusted or were uninterested in the internet.

On the mainland, things were better; unless special circumstances arose, most would comply out of face, even finding it fun and opening accounts themselves.

Yan Li had experience with this—he suggested the account could be opened under the studio, company, or official fan club name instead of the artist's personal name.

This way, it avoids direct personal commercial involvement while still serving as a representative voice and a channel for fan interaction.

Yan Li used this indirect strategy to attract big names like the Four Heavenly Kings, Xingye, and Zhou Jielun to indirectly join Weibo.

Once this group experienced the benefits of Weibo, they would naturally use it more and more, increasing the influence of their related accounts, even using them to publicly release official artist information—making such accounts, even if not personal, effectively half-joined.

Jin Chengwu no longer refused this time; he could decline on commercial grounds, but personal favors and money must be separated.

But they had stepped back, merely asking to open an official account for a studio or fan club—harmless and beneficial to both sides; refusing again would be impolite.

Yi'an now holds substantial power in the industry, and Yan Li controls a sizable cinema chain—he is a genuine film and television tycoon.

If you don't give him face now, when you need something later, Yan Li won't give you face either—then it'll be too late to regret.

…

Halfway through the banquet, Yan Li left, and Fan Xiaopang left with him.

"Chibi" is currently in hot release; she needs to go on promotional tours, spending at least one or two weeks traveling, planning to come back and demand more public funds.

Xinghewan

Yan Li, who hadn't eaten enough or too much at the banquet, planned to have some late-night snacks; his maid wanted to cook, but he stopped her—he was in a good mood tonight and would cook himself.

Qin Lan and Dong Xuan both hired maids, but for various reasons, the maids didn't live in, coming daily to buy groceries, cook, and manage household chores; Yan Li often came home late and had barely seen them.

Wang Ou simply hired hourly workers only when needed; her place was too chaotic, with constant comings and goings, making it inconvenient for outsiders to visit regularly.

Xinghewan was too large, and Fan Xiaopang was too busy, so they hired a live-in maid to watch the house and handle chores; Yan Li specifically vetted her through his system—she was a trustworthy person.

Seeing Yan Li cook personally, Fan Xiaopang—who hadn't wanted late-night snacks—became interested.

"Make me some too."

Yan Li cooked less and less these days; whenever he did, it was a bonus—no matter the taste, a billionaire tycoon cooking himself satisfied his vanity immensely.

He casually added some ingredients and glanced at Fan Xiaopang: "Watch yourself—you're still filming Diaochan; if you get too fat, you'll look just like Dong Zhuo."

"Shut up—I'd still seduce you even if I weighed two hundred jin."

Fan Xiaopang resented Yan Li constantly making fun of her weight, brimming with grievance.

Yan Li was speechless—this woman turned things around; it was she who started complaining whenever she gained weight, blaming him for not stopping her, and now that he was trying to stop her, she complained he thought her too fat.

Hmph, women!