Chapter 329

"What's this 'New Yi'an'? Sounds like some Xiangjiang gang."

Yan Li looked at the news outside and couldn't help but complain.

But it's understandable—after the merger, Yi'an Cinema Chain vanished entirely, leaving only the Yi'an brand; the new company, Yi'an Entertainment, had some changes from the original Yi'an Film, so adding the word 'New' made it easier to distinguish.

Don't overthink it—it's just a transitional term; once Yi'an Entertainment stabilizes, the 'New' will naturally disappear.

Merging two companies isn't just about swapping a signboard—there's a lot to do.

Yan Li brought both sides to agreement, reached consensus on key points, and passed the hardest hurdle.

Then came negotiating terms, drafting contracts, and handling procedures—after this step, the merger was officially complete.

What remained was integration: the two companies and their departments jockeying for power and influence.

Everything has pros and cons; the merger's overall direction and corporate interests were undeniably positive, but internal friction and bickering were unavoidable.

For example, previously Yi'an Film produced movies and then coordinated distribution through Yi'an Cinema Chain.

When the two companies cooperated under normal rules, it was at most strategic cooperation, with some preferential treatment.

But now it became a conflict between two departments or two business units—who leads, how do they coordinate, how are profits and performance divided? All became problems.

So the new company needed long-term integration and adjustment; for cases like this, they had to devise regulations that served corporate interests and were acceptable—or at least tolerable—to both sides.

This process would take a long time.

Even basic integration, clarifying systems and procedures, would take months; full fusion might not be achieved in one or two years.

Yan Li had long prepared for this—this was how things worked when companies grew large.

Not to mention merging two companies—even if he started a cinema chain from scratch, the fighting would still happen.

Didn't Yi'an Film and the Distribution Department already stir up trouble before? No factions, no alliances, chaotic as hell.

Fighting means they want to improve; no fighting would be worse—it means they have no ambition for the company or their careers, just a bunch of people who have given up and are content to lie flat, and the company would be doomed.

Yan Li couldn't stop the fighting, but he could use various methods to reduce its intensity, minimize internal waste, and turn it into healthy competition beneficial to the company.

Whether it was Yi'an Film or Yi'an Cinema Chain, Yan Li was the founder with the greatest influence.

Put simply, all senior executives and employees were his subordinates; Yan Li was confident he could control the situation.

Don't underestimate this point—many company mergers involve big swallowing small or uncontrollable suspicion chains leading to severe infighting.

But as founder of both companies, all employees trusted Yan Li; many even saw him as judge and protector, allowing him to control the situation and complete integration smoothly and at low cost.

Right now, the two companies were still in negotiations, but it was merely a struggle over interests and influence—the merger itself couldn't be stopped.

So Yan Li directly convened a joint meeting of senior executives from both companies to lay out the integration plan.

It was somewhat poignant: Yi'an Film and Yi'an Cinema Chain's offices were right above and below each other; now that they were merging, it was incredibly convenient—no moving needed, just minor adjustments and a new sign.

Although Boss Yan repeatedly claimed he originally placed them together just for his own convenience in working at both companies and negotiating with property management.

But now many suspected that even back when both companies moved in, Yan Li had already been planning the merger.

At the very least, he had the idea—if it failed, it was convenient for his work; if it succeeded, the upstairs-downstairs setup became one company.

So sneaky!

Specific implementation didn't require Boss Yan to worry—he had dedicated personnel to devise plans and execute them; his job was just to chant slogans and beat the drum.

That meant making his stance clear—in plainer terms, drawing a big pie and saying the ugly truth upfront.

After the merger, everyone gets sweet rewards—I eat meat, you drink soup.

Anyone who pretends to comply but secretly undermines him shouldn't expect mercy—he won't hesitate to be ruthless and forget old ties.

After the big meeting came the small meetings; the merger couldn't be hidden from core executives—all of them knew the score and had already aligned their thinking.

Yan Li demanded they actively supervise and pay close attention to the merger.

Ordinary executives and middle managers might lose power or benefits due to the merger, but core executives were highly likely to receive some original shares—the merger aided listing, everyone could earn more, so they had to sit on the right side of the fence.

Finally, Yan Li kept the HR Director behind to discuss recruiting a CEO or deputy CEO skilled in capital operations.

At this stage, with both companies merging, only Yan Li could hold things together—but after basic integration, planning for an IPO would begin.

Yan Li was inexperienced in this area, so he needed someone to steer the ship and drive Yi'an's IPO.

Money and original shares were easy; what mattered was real ability.

Yan Li pursued two paths: instructing HR to search, while also using the system to cast a wide net.

The latter required luck, but its value was high, and it could cooperate with HR for review and selection.

Many talents at Yi'an and Sina Weike had been dug up by Yan Li through the system.

To some extent, the HR Director was just a puppet—the intelligence system was Yan Li's true 【HR】.

…

After finishing his tasks, Yan Li checked his phone for various social invitations and chose "working overtime."

Earlier, he'd been away from Jingcheng for months—shooting in Xiangjiang—and now that he'd returned twice, first for the hit release of "Painted Skin," then for the Yi'an merger, coinciding with the financial crisis and bankruptcy rumors, too many people wanted to talk to him.

Annoyed beyond endurance, he ignored them all, stayed put to monitor a few companies' operations, then returned to Hengdian.

Arriving at his office, Yan Li turned on his computer and browsed Weike to see how the outside world viewed the Yi'an merger.

As expected, this move delivered a massive blow to the rumors of Yan Li's bankruptcy.

Someone had roughly estimated that after the merger, the combined valuation had jumped to billions; Yan Li held a large share, and his personal fortune soared.

He wasn't bankrupt—he was richer than ever!

But some held opposing views, like former Southern Metropolis Daily reporter Pang Yidian—this guy was a staunch supporter of the "Yan Li Bankruptcy Theory."

This bastard had previously been a cooperation partner of Yi'an, taking money to write articles for them, but he constantly delayed submissions and broke promises, until Yi'an, fed up, terminated the partnership.

Now, this shameless Pang Yidian had developed a grudge against Yi'an and Yan Li.

Since Pang Yidian had once been somewhat famous on his blog, he later joined Sina Weike, the archenemy of Weike.

The rumors about Yan Li's bankruptcy had been amplified by him and several other so-called big Vs on blogs, Weike, and Tianya.

Later, Weike promoted a few counter-voices to refute the rumors—not only to clear Yan Li's name, but mainly to reclaim the traffic.

Because Weike had many users and wide dissemination, it even forced several people to register for Weike, and the main battlefield gradually shifted to Weike.

This time, seeing Yan Li's bankruptcy theory suffer a major blow, Pang Yidian popped up again to spout nonsense.

He posted seven or eight Weike posts in a row, elaborating from multiple angles that Yi'an's merger was merely Yan Li's desperate last gasp.

Yan Li hoped to use this to prove he wasn't bankrupt, but the merger of the two companies offered little help to Yan Li's financial situation—it was instead a burden.

Originally, Yi'an Film & Television was profitable, while Yi'an Theater Chain was losing money; after the merger, Yi'an's profits flowed directly into Yi'an Theater Chain.

Yan Li directly lost a crucial cash pool.

The film industry is notoriously high-risk; if one day losses occurred, vast funds would be tied up by the theater chain, Yi'an's cash flow would snap, and collapse would follow.

This was a terrible move, a foolish move—Yan Li had already lost his composure; the glorious birth of New Yi'an was merely the beginning of the collapse of this towering structure.

Once Yi'an fell apart, the next target would be Weike.

If Yan Li were smart, he should have sold Weike early to salvage some dowry money; otherwise, both would plunge into the abyss together.

Watching this guy jump around like a fool, with plenty of supporters in the comments, Yan Li was utterly speechless.

A man with half a bottle of water, sloshing around—how could so many believe him?

But it was understandable; this was the era when Yi Lin and Zhi Yin, along with street-market antiques, ruled supreme—even if someone claimed American air tasted sweet, people would believe it.

Forget 2008; from the fragmented glimpses Yan Li had seen of future intelligence, even ten years later, there were still countless people believing rumors and conspiracy theories, with every major platform hosting a gang of story-tellers and their followers.

Yan Li did not retaliate against Pang Yidian; every platform needed not only positive accounts but also clowns and trash bins—using future terminology, electronic pets.

Pang Yidian seemed like a decent candidate.

Later, give him some traffic, wait for the right moment to humiliate him, make him black but famous, and provide entertainment for Weike's netizens.

Yan Li ignored Pang Yidian and began browsing Weike.

Whenever he had time, he almost daily scrolled through Weike, and every ten days or so, he thoroughly browsed the entire platform to experience its changes.

By now, Weike had passed its initial explosive growth phase and entered a steady upward phase and an era of competing for existing market share.

Attracting new users was important, but more important was keeping users active and willing to spend more time on Weike.

Besides Sina Weike, NetEase's and Sohu's microblogs had also rolled out; Fanfou received investment and expanded; the half-dead Penguin Taotao began revamping, adding features closer to Weike and attracting celebrities to join.

Earlier clashes with Weike were merely a trial run; the real Weike war had only just begun.

Weike had deployed its ultimate weapon: the Hot Search List.

The effect was still decent, but time was short—it had not yet generated sufficient influence and needed time to accumulate and ferment.

Moreover, Weike's various activities and features kept emerging, striving to maintain its lead; the rest was a battle of wits and resource-burning against other platforms.

Those who could hold on, held on; those who couldn't, got the hell out.

In Yan Li's view, NetEase and Sohu weren't taking the Weike war seriously—they had realized they could not rapidly grow and surpass Weike.

Given Weike's nature, being second or third place held little meaning.

Now, both clung to wishful hopes, watching whether they could snatch a share in the chaos, so they still supported their own platforms—but due to bleak prospects, their investments remained restrained.

Sina was slightly better—they entered earlier and still had some hope, so they gritted their teeth and stuck with it.

Fanfou was special: an independent platform, its fate depended on its prospects and the backing of its behind-the-scenes investors.

If prospects were strong enough, someone might back it to challenge Yan Li; otherwise, it would be abandoned as cannon fodder—a platform with high potential but also a low floor.

And Penguin Taotao was the most special of all!

Because of Penguin Taotao's strength and Weike's future, Yan Li had been most wary of Penguin Taotao from the start—even more than Sina.

Yet now, nearly a year after Weike's founding, Penguin Taotao's performance left him utterly stunned.