Chapter 361: Yan Li Secures the Deal

Yan Li truly felt he’d had bad luck these past two months, nothing but mishaps piling up.

But Sun Honglei had just signed with Yi’an, and had specifically called to beg him for help—he couldn’t just ignore it.

Some artists under contract with other agencies were willing to switch to Yi’an, not only because Yi’an had vast resources, but also because Yan Li was famously protective of his own—they were seeking a powerful backer.

Yan Li used this persona to recruit talent; he wouldn’t ruin his own reputation—he had to step up when needed.

Even without that, he and Sun Honglei had long-standing ties; over the past two years, Sun had grown close to Yi’an, and their relationship was good. When Sun came begging for help, Yan Li couldn’t just stand by.

Gansu Province, Zhang City

Yan Li originally planned to solve it with a phone call, but after thinking it over, he decided to come in person.

Sun Honglei, his agent, and a producer from “Three Guns Shoot the Shock” came out to meet him.

Yan Li noticed Sun Honglei’s arm was still bandaged, and couldn’t help asking.

“Did Xiao Shen Yang really beat you up?”

It wasn’t unreasonable for Yan Li to doubt it—in his mind, Sun Honglei was the type of tough guy who played Liu Huaqiang with grit, yet he’d been beaten by the effeminate Xiao Shen Yang.

The contrast was like Pan Changjiang knocking out Da Yao in a basketball game.

Sun Honglei stayed silent, but his agent explained: “Director Yan, Honglei had been drinking too much that day, and Xiao Shen Yang has martial arts training.”

The producer beside him added his own explanation, which Yan Li translated as:

Sun Honglei looked intimidating, but he couldn’t fight worth a damn. Xiao Shen Yang, though he played effeminate roles, had trained in martial arts and was hardened from years in Northeastern nightclubs—he was a fierce brawler.

But to be fair, Sun Honglei’s arm wasn’t broken by Xiao Shen Yang—it was accidentally injured by broken beer bottles during the shoving match; their actual conflict wasn’t that severe.

But since Xiao Shen Yang’s master, Zhao Ben Shan, was present, Sun Honglei felt vulnerable, so he asked Yan Li to come and lend weight.

Yan Li understood the situation and turned to Sun Honglei’s agent: “What’s the deal with your boss Zhao?”

Sun Honglei wasn’t just signed to Yi’an—he was strictly an artist under Xinbaoyuan.

Even Sun Honglei’s participation in “Three Guns Shoot the Shock” was thanks to Zhao Bao Gang. How this was resolved required Yan Li to coordinate with Zhao Bao Gang.

“We couldn’t get tickets, but Boss Zhao will arrive this afternoon. He already instructed us: whatever Director Yan decides, Xinbaoyuan will fully cooperate.”

Yan Li immediately understood what was going on.

Zhao Bao Gang was indeed a big shot in Beijing’s circle, but his influence was limited to Beijing—and even there, only within the arts and film industries.

In contrast, Xiao Shen Yang’s master, though also primarily in film and TV, was involved across all industries and wielded nationwide influence, especially in the Northeast.

Plainly put, Zhao Bao Gang couldn’t match Zhao Ben Shan.

Yan Li could have sought help from other Beijing bigwigs, but time might not allow it, and they might not want to risk angering Zhao Ben Shan.

That’s why Sun Honglei urgently begged Yan Li—he was the real powerhouse, respected across the industry and beyond.

“Honglei, what do you want to do?”

Yan Li understood Xinbaoyuan’s intentions and turned to Sun Honglei, who hesitated before saying:

“I just want to put this behind me and focus on filming.”

“Understood.”

Yan Li nodded—he didn’t promise to avenge Sun Honglei or make grand gestures.

He was the boss, not his father.

In this fight, Xiao Shen Yang was wrong, but Sun Honglei wasn’t entirely clean either.

Yan Li was always cautious; before coming, he’d checked through channels and found Sun Honglei bore significant responsibility.

After “Invisible Forces,” Sun Honglei became hugely popular, and inevitably grew arrogant, his attitude becoming loose.

Then he joined the “Three Guns Shoot the Shock” set, where he was constantly overshadowed by Xiao Shen Yang.

In status, Xiao Shen Yang was the lead; Sun Honglei was a supporting actor. In popularity, he still lagged behind Xiao Shen Yang, who had truly become a national sensation after the Spring Festival Gala.

Meanwhile, Sun Honglei, a classically trained actor with years of struggle, looked down on Xiao Shen Yang’s folk opera style, seeing it as heresy mixed with dumb luck.

As a result, Sun Honglei resented Xiao Shen Yang. At that gathering, drunk, he made some sarcastic remarks.

Normally, this wouldn’t be a big deal—actors on sets often disliked each other, exchanged bitter words, even had minor clashes—it was routine.

But Sun Honglei got cocky, and Xiao Shen Yang was even more so; Sun was annoyed, but Xiao Shen Yang didn’t even consider him worth noticing—so they directly clashed.

Both were Northerners; once they started arguing, tempers flared, and fists flew.

Even at this point, it could’ve been contained—fights among cast members weren’t unheard of; they were always settled internally, smoothed over, minimized.

But Zhang Yimou’s crew had too many eyes watching; media heard the rumor and leaked it.

Both were top stars, and their contrasting public images made the incident explosive.

Now the “Three Guns Shoot the Shock” crew couldn’t contain it. Xiao Shen Yang called his master for help, which made Sun Honglei overthink everything and start rallying his own allies.

Yan Li came here aiming for a peaceful resolution—he didn’t want to clash with the King of Northeastern Comedy.

If Sun Honglei thought Yan Li’s presence meant he could challenge Zhao Ben Shan and force the master and apprentice to apologize, Yan Li would seriously consider booking his return flight.

But Sun Honglei knew his place—he genuinely wanted to resolve this without making Yan Li’s life harder, and only then would Yan Li help him.

"Don't worry. With me here, you won't get hurt or be taken advantage of."

Yan Li made his guarantee: he wouldn’t help Sun Honglei bully others, but he wouldn’t let others bully Sun Honglei either.

When he stood up for Deng Chao against Feng Kuzi, Yan Li had first tried diplomacy.

If Feng Xiaogang had had any sense back then, said a few soft words, smoothed things over, and given Deng Chao proper face, it never would’ve escalated that far.

Arriving at the location, Yan Li first called Zhao Bao Gang, then asked:

“Where are they? Take me there.”

“Aren’t you waiting for Boss Zhao?”

What good would waiting do? Would he dare slam the table? Or throw a punch?!

Yan Li shook his head, but added a polite note for Zhao Bao Gang: “I’ll go first, size up the situation.”

Sun Honglei led the way, but then Zhang Yimou called, saying everyone was waiting in the set’s conference room, so they changed course and headed to the production office.

When they arrived, Yan Li noticed a few large men smoking in the parking area; the two leaders looked vaguely familiar.

Gangzi and Ahao from “Ma Dashuai”

Sun Honglei introduced them: these two were Zhao’s bodyguards, also known as the famous “Knives, Guns, and Cannons.”

“Wow, this show of force—did I bring too few people?”

Yan Li had come light: just one assistant, Ding Feng, and two bodyguards. That setup was fine for daily use, but today’s situation looked pitifully underprepared.

Ding Feng leaned in: “Boss, should I call for backup?”

Yan Li took security seriously; he could easily summon twenty to thirty bodyguards with a single call—all ex-military, professionally trained.

These were his direct guards. Through connections or money, he could easily muster a hundred—fighters, enforcers, loyalists, hardcores—all willing to go hard, even lethal.

“You think this is ‘Young and Dangerous’?”

Yan Li didn’t take these so-called “Knives, Guns, and Cannons” seriously—he didn’t believe Zhao would dare touch him.

On this land, thuggery was always low-class. If they so much as laid a finger on him, he could destroy the entire Ben Shan Media empire.

Even as he walked, Yan Li noticed the men staring at him—he stopped everyone, calmly saying:

“I’m tired. Let’s rest.”

He took a cigarette but didn’t light it, standing there, joking with Sun Honglei and the others.

“You think they’ll come beat me up if I stare at them?”

Sun Honglei gave a forced laugh: “Director Yan, we’re just standing here.”

“We won’t stand long—someone will come soon… Ah, here they are.”

A group emerged from the office building: Zhang Yimou leading, and Zhao Ben Shan beside him, wearing a baseball cap.

“Director Yan, it’s so hot out—why not come inside?”

“Director Zhang, Master Zhao.”

Yan Li greeted them politely, then nodded toward the men.

“I’m not going in because those guys look like monsters—I’m afraid. I traveled all the way to Gansu just to get beaten? That’s too unfair.”

Zhao Ben Shan knew this was Yan Li calling him out—he immediately scolded the men:

“Who told you to stand here? You’re just causing trouble. Get the hell out.”

Then he sincerely told Yan Li: “Director Yan, I apologize—my subordinates acted foolishly. I owe you an apology.”

“Oh, so that’s it? I thought Master Zhao was giving me a warning.”

Yan Li’s tone was hard to read—whether wistful or sarcastic, the sight of those men standing there had annoyed him.

Intimidation by force?

What did they take him for? A child to scare?

Zhao Ben Shan was getting impatient—he never intended to escalate things; he planned to team up with Zhang Yimou to bury the incident. But Sun Honglei got scared and called Yan Li, making everything complicated.

He was powerful, yes, but his influence was still mostly confined to the Northeast.

Beyond Shanhaiguan, Zhao Ben Shan ruled—but once you crossed Shanhaiguan, you had to play by the rules.

This time, with Xiao Shen Yang exploding in popularity, Zhao Ben Shan was planning to take his apprentice south to expand his market—the Liu Laogen Grand Stage in Beijing had only opened two months ago.

If he clashed with Yan Li—a media tycoon with deep ties across film, internet, and every sector—the trouble would be enormous.

Forget other things—right now, Xiao Shen Yang was popular but controversial. If Yan Li stirred the pot on Weibo, his reputation could flip overnight.

And Yan Li’s influence in film and TV was massive—if he publicly opposed the Zhao Clan, the latter would suffer terribly.

TV dramas might survive, thanks to CCTV and a few major IPs, but films would be crushed—just one reduction in screening slots could destroy all Zhao Clan movie plans.

So Zhao Ben Shan raised his voice, barking at the lingering men:

“Get out, all of you. Go back. Lao Liu, you go with them—don’t let them come back.”

Then he added, even more sincerely: “Director Yan, don’t misunderstand—these kids are just close friends. They’re probably worried about Xiao Shen Yang and waiting for news. There’s no other intention.”

Yan Li made no reply: “Let’s go inside and talk.”

Lao Mouzi, as host, personally guided both sides; Zhang Weijian did not show up—no one knew if he was too busy or for some other reason.

Inside a conference room in the office area, Lao Mouzi, Yan Li, and Zhao Ben Shan sat down, while the others stood.

Lao Mouzi spoke first, offering some formal pleasantries before getting to the point: “Since Director Yan is here, let’s discuss how to handle this.”

Zhao Ben Shan immediately followed: “I’ll state my position first: after what happened in the crew, with my disciple involved, no matter what, I as his master failed to manage him properly, and I’ve caused trouble for Director Zhang and Director Yan.”

Seeing this, Yan Li softened his tone: “I don’t know the full details, but Hong Lei is our company’s artist—he got injured on set, and rumors have spread everywhere. I came here specifically to see what’s going on.”

The phrase “came to shake things up” carried a confrontational tone; Yan Li stepped back, indicating he had come merely to check on his artist due to public pressure.

The three exchanged words, all aiming to defuse the tension.

Then Zhao Ben Shan called in the other party, Xiao Shen Yang, along with those who had attended the drinking session that day.

Lao Mouzi said: “Director Yan is here now—tell us exactly what happened that day. Don’t hide anything, don’t embellish, and don’t leave out key details.”

To avoid self-serving accounts from the two parties and bias from Zhao’s other two disciples, the main descriptions came from neutral third parties.

Through reconstruction, everyone gained a clearer understanding of what had occurred.

The incident was sparked by Sun Hong Lei; Xiao Shen Yang was the first to insult someone, and he was also suspected of delivering the first push.

Sun, being a veteran in the industry, knew some boundaries; Xiao Shen Yang, young and arrogant, was more impulsive.

Of course, Sun Hong Lei’s insults were also extremely harsh—he kept calling him “second chair,” which directly triggered Xiao Shen Yang’s outburst.

Yan Li felt the account matched what he had heard; he turned to Sun Hong Lei, who nodded, acknowledging the description.

A slight silence settled over the room.

Yan Li decided to hold his ground: no matter what, Sun Hong Lei had been beaten and injured—he couldn’t be the first to apologize.

Zhao Ben Shan, though verbally blaming his disciple, still favored his own; as a master, if he didn’t protect his students, morale would collapse—so he stayed silent.

Lao Mouzi glanced around, then broke the silence himself: “Gentlemen, I’ll speak frankly—this has escalated to this point, and I believe both parties share some responsibility.”

“But I also think this isn’t a major issue. Men drink, men fight—it’s normal. Disagreements happen; what matters is resolving them.”

As the director, Lao Mouzi couldn’t avoid this—he couldn’t ignore it; he had to force himself to mediate.

Fortunately, neither side wanted to escalate things; Lao Mouzi’s words provided a face-saving out, and the atmosphere noticeably improved.

Zhao Ben Shan glanced at his disciple, then at Sun Hong Lei’s injured hand, and spoke first.

“Shen Yang did wrong—he shouldn’t have hit anyone, especially not hurt Hong Lei’s hand. They’re even fellow Northerners.”

“Shen Yang, apologize to Hong Lei.”

Xiao Shen Yang, clearly prepped beforehand, immediately bowed deeply to Sun Hong Lei.

Yan Li glanced at Sun Hong Lei, then dropped his stiff demeanor and added: “Hong Lei made mistakes too—he drank too much and let his mouth run wild. You must learn from this.”

Sun Hong Lei understood—he immediately took blame: “Yes, yes, I’m wrong too. Right here, before Director Yan, Director Zhang, and Master Zhao, I apologize to Shen Yang.”

His goal wasn’t revenge—he just didn’t want to be targeted by the Zhao Clan. Mutual apologies gave everyone face, and he could finally relax.

Indeed, Zhao Ben Shan was pleased with this outcome—he clapped his hands: “No fight, no friendship. You two understand each other better now, spend more time together—you might even become friends. This bad thing turned good.”

Then he instructed his disciple to bow to Yan Li.

“After the Spring Festival Gala, how much did Director Yan promote you? He said, ‘From now on, who in the world doesn’t know you?’—how much face did he give you? He kept promoting you on Weibo. Without his support, where would you be today?”

“Yet you’ve repaid him with nothing, and now you’ve made him travel all this way—this is truly unacceptable.”

Sun Hong Lei feared being targeted by the Zhao Clan; Old Zhao worried his disciple would be remembered negatively by Yan Li. This speech was about rebuilding ties and reviving old goodwill, helping Xiao Shen Yang restore his image in Yan Li’s eyes.

Xiao Shen Yang responded promptly: “Director Yan, I was immature. I’ve long wanted to pay you a visit, but this incident brought us together—I’ve caused you trouble, please forgive me.”

Bowing to Sun Hong Lei, Xiao Shen Yang still carried a hint of resentment; bowing to Yan Li, however, meant nothing.

Not only had Yan Li once promoted him—he owed him that favor—but more importantly, their status gap was undeniable.

No matter how famous he was, he still had to make a living under Director Yan’s authority.