[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-intelligence-king-of-chinese-entertainment":3,"chapter-the-intelligence-king-of-chinese-entertainment-the-intelligence-king-of-chinese-entertainment-chapter-356":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The Intelligence King of Chinese Entertainment",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2260659,4411,"Chapter 356: Daily Drama Watching","the-intelligence-king-of-chinese-entertainment-chapter-356",356,"\u003Cp>The next day, Tudou.com, Weibo, and Yi’an discussed share swaps.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But unlike previous Weibo and Yi’an share swaps, these two companies were controlled entirely by Yan Li as their major shareholder and absolute owner, granting him absolute authority.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Moreover, Yan Li could cross-hold shares between the two companies, so the number of shares swapped between Weibo and Yi’an remained feasible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Tudou.com, after multiple rounds of financing and with numerous shareholders, couldn’t spare much equity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Li didn’t pressure them—he aimed primarily to establish a three-way cross-shareholding alliance, strategically binding them together; more shares were better, but fewer would still be acceptable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After extensive discussions, Tudou.com eventually managed to allocate nearly 5 percent of its shares.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Weibo planned to contribute 1.2 to 1.8 percent, while Yi’an offered slightly more—roughly 2 to 4 percent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Weibo dominated the social media landscape, and its current valuation and prospects far surpassed Tudou.com’s, which was locked in a bitter struggle with Youku.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As a film and television company, Yi’an was certainly no match for Tudou’s platform, but with its diverse content resources, the gap wasn’t too wide.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The exact share swap figures still required further negotiation among the three parties and the development of strategies to circumvent regulatory scrutiny.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cross-shareholding between interconnected companies offered many advantages but also attracted attention, so numerous contingency plans were needed to mitigate risks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Publicly listed companies were like that—plenty of benefits, but also many taboos; Yan Li spent every day reviewing documents and consulting legal teams until his head spun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fortunately, Tudou.com’s IPO wasn’t his immediate concern, and Weibo wasn’t close to going public yet—he only needed to manage Yi’an.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After resolving Tudou.com, Yan Li met over meals with Liu Lao from JD.com, Ganji.com, and other investment firms.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His aggressive pressure on Tudou.com might have unsettled these people.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Especially Liu Lao from JD.com, who was sensitive about control of his own company and whose business complemented Weibo’s—he was especially prone to overthinking, so Yan Li had to soothe him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As his fame grew and his power strengthened, he became increasingly pivotal in the industry; every move he made could trigger speculation and chain reactions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So after finishing his main tasks, Yan Li still had to handle countless follow-ups: building momentum and harvesting gains was one thing, but eliminating negative fallout was often even busier.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tuanjiehu\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Li sat on the sofa while Yang Rong warmed him a cup of honey water: “You quit drinking just the other day, and now you’re drunk again, face flushed.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qin Lan was filming “The Beauty’s Scheme” in Hengdian; Dong Xuan and Fan Xiaopang’s drama had also started shooting. Though based in Beijing, she spent most of her time on set.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Xin had been swamped since “The Undercover,” and Wang Ou wasn’t idle either, so Yang Rong came back to Beijing and became Yan Li’s haven during this period.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“A heart-to-heart session—how can you bond if you don’t drink your fill? But after this round, you’ll finally get some relief.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Li sipped from the cup. Quitting smoking wasn’t hard—he didn’t have a strong habit, and snacks easily kept the urge at bay.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Alcohol wasn’t something he couldn’t quit—it was just impossible to avoid entirely in business; he could only try to drink less.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yang Rong looked at him, heart aching: “They say you’ve gotten richer, but I feel you’re even more exhausted than before.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That’s exactly why it’s exhausting.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After finishing the honey water, Yan Li stretched and pulled Yang Rong into his arms, sighing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Money—when you don’t have it, you worry; when you have too much, you worry too. The happiest and most carefree I ever was was when I had one or two hundred million—enough to live comfortably, not yet overwhelmed, still with room to climb.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To wear the crown, you must bear its weight!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Li once thought powerful people spoke in empty posturing—talking from a position of comfort. But now that he’d reached a certain status, he finally understood: standing high wasn’t always comfortable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, this was just a touch of self-pity—he’d climbed this far, and he had no intention of going back down.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yang Rong watched Yan Li’s sighs, unsure how to comfort him, so she pressed her body closer, silently showing her support.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Li smiled. He liked Yang Rong not only because she was accommodating, but because her nature was equally so—she never fought or competed, and willingly tolerated his bad moods.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Previously, Qin Lan had played this role; now Yang Rong had joined, and they could take turns.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thinking of this, Yan Li suddenly asked Yang Rong: “If Wang Ou were here, how would she comfort me?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yang Rong paused, then said two words: “Bed?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Li shook his head, correcting her: “No—she’d call someone else to join and comfort me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yang Rong froze, pinched him: “I’m not her. Don’t even think about making me do things with others.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This dog of a man had tested this several times recently, always trying to pair her with someone else—all because of that little seductress Wang Ou.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But while Wang Ou indulged Yan Li, Yang Rong wouldn’t compromise—her limit was only ever Wang Ou.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You can’t even satisfy yourself, yet you won’t find help—aren’t you torturing me?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Li complained: other men near thirty saw their vitality decline, but he felt no such drop—instead, his desires seemed to grow stronger.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That’s why Qin Lan, Wang Ou, Fan Xiaopang, and others tolerated him so readily—either actively or half-heartedly—they simply couldn’t handle him alone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Earlier in Hengdian, Qin Lan stayed with him longer than usual, even moved back to a hotel under his pressure, and then Hu and Li teamed up to put out the fire.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These days were the same—Yan Li often came to Yang Rong’s place, but she couldn’t handle him alone either.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A day or two was fine, but daily hunger would make Yan Li complain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yang Rong bit her lip, feeling wronged: what could she do? She’d used every trick she had—she even felt discomfort after using the toilet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Why not go find someone else after you’re done?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yang Rong suggested: she couldn’t accept others joining her, so let Yan Li make the trip—after all, Wang Ou’s new recruit Bai Bing didn’t live far away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“...Forget it. I’ll endure.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Li was too lazy to bother—he knew such actions would hurt one and upset another.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wasn’t starving, just underfed; he’d make do, and visit “Du La La’s Promotion” in a couple of days.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Where’s the remote? Turn on the TV—I haven’t watched in ages.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Li wanted something to distract him, or else he’d lose control.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He really didn’t watch TV dramas much anymore.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even when he did, he rarely watched on TV—he streamed online to kill time, study market trends, or observe the performances of popular actors.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was already the absolute limit of what he could manage—a stubborn commitment as a part-time actor and producer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Perhaps years from now, he’d lose even the time and mindset to watch dramas for leisure; then he wouldn’t just lose touch with market trends—he might not even recognize some actors.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But by then, he probably wouldn’t need to personally oversee the specifics of film and TV production anyway.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Watch this one—‘The Snail House.’”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yang Rong flipped channels with the remote; when she reached a local station, Yan Li stopped her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew this drama—he’d once considered investing in it, but hadn’t gone through with it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A couple of days ago, he’d seen discussions about it on Weibo; though not yet broadcast nationally, its influence was already strong, boosting the popularity of actors Wen Zhang and Zhang Jiayi.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Surprisingly, Yang Rong also knew the drama—and even dropped a revelation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The female lead, Haizao, approached Ouou, but Ouou was busy, and the production insisted on intimate scenes, so she turned it down.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wang Ou?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Li stared at the actress on screen—her name was... Li Nian. She wasn’t stunningly beautiful, but looked pure and innocent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If Wang Ou had played her, she might’ve been a bit too seductive—but it wouldn’t have been impossible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That little seductress might act wild privately, but outwardly she was always proper.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her performance as the elegant Madame Ye in “Ip Man” was excellent; her signature roles in “The Qing Dynasty Harem” and “Detective Dee” were all similarly pure and dignified—occasionally flirtatious, but fitting the character of a college girl turned corrupt official’s mistress.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still, Yan Li felt Wang Ou would be too hard-edged for this role.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ideal fit would be someone like Yang Rong, Hu Siyan, or Bai Bing—softer features, delicate, vulnerable, and captivating, evoking a man’s protective instinct; if they carried a hint of seduction, they’d be perfect.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From his experience, women like this had devastating power over middle-aged and older men—he’d seen a significant proportion of powerful men’s mistresses fit this type.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Besides, many powerful men didn’t choose mistresses for beauty alone—they chose for compatibility and chemistry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Li had even seen mistresses who were plain-looking, even unattractive—but their lovers adored them anyway. What could you do?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Leaving Haizao aside, this drama’s boundaries were indeed bold.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The plot involving the corrupt official Song Siming made Yan Li instinctively rub his nose—though the writing was a bit exaggerated, some of its angles cut deep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then there was Haizao’s affair with Song Siming, the NTR plot—Wen Zhang’s Xiao Bei, wearing a green hoodie, talking on the phone with Haizao, while Song Siming crawled into bed—Yan Li nearly cracked up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beside him, Yang Rong seemed immersed in the drama—perhaps recalling past phone calls—she muttered angrily:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“How could this woman be so awful?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Li nodded: “You think Haizao’s bad?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course! She has a boyfriend and still screws around with another man, lies to him, and ruins his love—poor Xiao Bei adores her so much, it’s disgusting.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What about Song Siming?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He’s no better—has a wife and kids, old enough to be her father, still seduces a girl, destroys relationships. One’s a modern Pan Jinlian, the other’s a modern Ximen Qing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yang Rong delivered her sharp critique. Yan Li wanted to ask, “Then what are we?” but thought better of it—no need to invite trouble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Perhaps because of their different positions, ordinary viewers naturally identified with Wen Zhang’s Xiao Bei and raged at Song and Haizao as a pair of villains; Yan Li, however, instinctively identified with Song Siming.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He even understood Haizao’s actions—selfish, yes, but a smart choice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Damn, I’ve really become corrupted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Li gave himself a small reflection—he was drifting farther and farther from the pure, upright man he once was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yang Rong was still indignant on Xiao Bei’s behalf, so Yan Li comforted her: “It’s not so bad—looks like Haizao won’t marry him anyway, so she’s escaped one disaster.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Think about it—if they married, had children, and she kept acting like this, she’d destroy his entire life.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yang Rong thought it over—it was indeed bad for Xiao Bei, but from another angle, it was also good.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This drama’s pretty good. Buy me a DVD or download all the episodes online—I’ll catch up on the earlier plot, and also keep it as insurance.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though he’d watched less than two episodes, combined with online reviews, Yan Li could already discern the drama’s patterns—attacking real estate, extramarital affairs, class conflict, corruption—all societal pain points.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These elements were too sensitive—if the drama gained too much traction, authorities might step in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After two episodes ended, it was late; Yan Li had work tomorrow. He glanced at Yang Rong.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Did you see that scene? I want to play too.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yang Rong spat at him: “You’re Ximen Qing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yan Li didn’t care: “I’m Ximen Qing—you’re Pan Jinlian. Come, serve your great lord properly.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>「……」\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The drama \"Snail House\" became popular faster than Yan Li had imagined.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even before it aired on national television, it had already sparked widespread online attention and discussion due to its sensitive plot and solid quality, with multiple local channels scrambling to buy broadcast rights, and several internet video platforms jointly streaming it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Amid such extraordinary popularity, \"Snail House\" was beginning to seem like the successor to \"Invisible War.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Against this backdrop, Wen Zhang became one of the hottest actors of the moment, finally finding his comfort zone—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The little man!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whether due to playing himself or not, Wen Zhang portrayed this kind of man—neither bad nor capable enough, leading to problems with his wife and girlfriend, a pitiful little man—so vividly it felt real.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before this, his most iconic role was Xiang Nan in \"Struggle,\" which followed a similar pattern.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This time, Xiao Bei in \"Snail House\" was even more extreme, enhancing audience immersion and empathy, and drawing massive sympathy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This little-man archetype was highly appealing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It not only reduced male viewers’ sense of same-sex repulsion, but also won favor among female viewers through its traits of loving and fearing their wives.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The character’s halo projected onto the actor himself, and combined with Wen Zhang’s own real-life resemblance, the line between role and actor blurred, allowing him to wildly cash in on the character’s popularity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This could be seen from the speed at which Wen Zhang’s Weibo followers increased.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Although not as explosive as Jiang Xin’s surge after \"Invisible War,\" he routinely gained thousands of new followers daily, and over time, the growth was significant.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When a person becomes famous, their status naturally changes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not only did his standing rise within Orange Sky, but Yi An also extended an olive branch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With his current fame and popularity, he hadn’t yet reached the point where Yi An offered him exclusive contracts, but there were two projects well-suited to him, worth further collaboration.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For Wen Zhang’s type of role, Yi An currently had few actors who could do them justice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lin Jiachuan and Zhou Yiwei had stern, cold faces; Deng Chao and Qiao Zhenyu were too handsome; Zhang Songwen and Huang Bao had decent acting and temperament, but lacked in appearance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wen Zhang wasn’t handsome, but he wasn’t ugly either—he belonged to the type that was consistently appealing and approachable, which was precisely what allowed him to embody the little-man charm, harmonize the plot, and attract more viewers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So many things that seem insignificant actually have their own thresholds.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wen Zhang was quite agreeable; he had just begun to rise and hadn’t yet reached the point of ignoring Yi An.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Well, considering Yi An’s current scale, across the entire Chinese-language film and television industry—even across all of Asia—there were few who dared to ignore it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Recently, several South Korean companies had sought collaboration with Yi An, hoping to use it as a springboard to send their artists to the mainland to make money.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qiu Chixuan, who had previously collaborated with him on \"The Legend of Chu Liuxiang,\" had specifically visited the company to meet Yan Li, but unfortunately, she lacked sufficient clout, and Yan Li was too busy to see her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wen Zhang, however, did meet him!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After all, he was currently at the peak of his fame, and with some personal connections, Yan Li had specifically set aside time to meet him.\u003C\u002Fp>",2513,"2026-06-19T16:16:54.562Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","dbb99849d8e55c4a9ca932d812bd2e9b3884245d5f2f679136f8caf32bade063","the-intelligence-king-of-chinese-entertainment-chapter-357","the-intelligence-king-of-chinese-entertainment-chapter-355",405,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-intelligence-king-of-chinese-entertainment-cover.jpg"]