Chapter 364: Yan Li: Upon Opening His Eyes, Three to Four Thousand Employees Depend on Him for Food, Drink, and Daily Needs

The box office performance of "Night Club" was decent, with its opening weekend grossing nearly 14 million, though subsequent daily increases dropped to just a few hundred thousand each day.

At this trend, reaching 30 million should be no problem, with a chance of hitting 35 million.

That’s already good enough—after all, the cast was solid, but aside from Xu Zheng and the recently popular Yang Mi, there was little else worth noting.

The film’s quality wasn’t particularly outstanding, it was a low-budget production with limited appeal, and it faced multiple strong competitors in the same period.

Without backing from Yi’an, it’s questionable whether it could have even reached 20 million.

Although the box office was low—even lower than "Chase and Escape"—the film’s investment was tiny.

The setting was just a small supermarket; the lead actors Xu Zheng and Yang Mi had modest salaries, and the rest of the cast were even cheaper.

Combined with its modern setting and minor product placements arranged by the advertising department, the final production cost was squeezed to around 1.5 million.

Of course, additional funds were later poured into promotion and distribution, but after deducting these costs and factoring in box office dividends and other revenues, Yi’an’s profit from production and distribution alone could exceed 10 million—not counting Yi’an’s theater chain revenue.

A 10-million profit, while nowhere near the earnings of blockbusters, was still real, tangible profit with a high return rate.

Investors and the stock market love stories like this—underdogs turning a million into ten or even a hundred times more.

So although "Night Club" was insignificant among Yi’an’s many projects, its story potential made it a key promotional focus.

It continued Yi’an’s established image of small investment, big returns, annually producing dark horses, emphasizing sharp vision, strong execution, and willingness to back new directors.

In contrast, Huayi was in a slightly awkward position.

This summer, Huayi was also low-key, focusing more on National Day and the New Year season, but still invested in and distributed one film.

It was Wu Zhenyu’s self-directed and self-starring "Chase Shadow," a title similar to "Chase and Escape," with a strong cast including Wu Peici, Xie Na, and Dragon Prince.

But its performance was abysmal.

It ran into competition from "Chase and Escape" and another Hollywood film, earning less than 10 million.

The studio claimed a 20-million investment, likely inflated, but given its historical setting, the figure wasn’t wildly exaggerated.

With box office under 10 million, the rights couldn’t fetch a high price—the project was definitely a loss.

This was common in the industry; why is filmmaking such a high barrier? Because it’s easy to lose money—most people can’t afford to play.

Yan Li is called a business genius, yet he once failed on Jiang Wen, and several other films, though not losing money, earned barely anything—just barely breaking even, like "Chase and Escape."

Although Huayi wasn’t as powerful as Yi’an, its film projects still had a high profitability rate; occasional losses on minor projects weren’t a big deal.

In the past, such incidents wouldn’t have drawn much media criticism, but now there’s Yi’an.

During the New Year season, Huayi’s "If You Are the One" won the top spot; although "Crazy Stone" saved face, and with films like "Ip Man," Yi’an’s total box office was still higher.

But Yan Li still felt a bit uneasy.

This summer, Huayi’s project flopped while Yi’an produced a dark horse—unless Yan Li took a shot at them, he wouldn’t be Yan Li.

Even if he didn’t win, he’d still win; if he won, he’d win big.

Thus, "Chase Shadow," which had quietly flopped, suddenly gained fame after its box office collapse, dragging Huayi into the spotlight.

Wang Zhongjun was forced to personally deny rumors, stating Huayi was merely one of the investors with limited input—implying the losses weren’t severe.

He had to explain; Huayi was preparing for its IPO, and whether a project made or lost money was a sensitive topic.

The incident infuriated the two Wangs, who were determined to make a comeback during the National Day season.

This year’s National Day season was a group effort of tribute films; besides the star-studded "The Founding of a Republic," Yi’an’s "The Message" and Huayi’s "Dawn 1949" would clash head-on.

Many were eagerly awaiting this direct confrontation—losing would mean massive humiliation.

Especially Huayi, which planned its IPO at the end of October; the National Day results could directly impact its stock price.

Because of this, Huayi was internally divided—many hoped to avoid a direct fight with Yi’an, fearing the cost of defeat would be too high.

But others saw it as an opportunity—if they won, it would be a major boost for Huayi.

After much deliberation, Huayi decided to take the fight.

The risk was high, but constantly avoiding confrontation meant Huayi would be increasingly trampled by Yi’an.

Considering Yi’an’s current scale and strategy, Huayi didn’t expect to win outright, but occasionally reclaiming a small victory to stay close and threaten Yi’an was a valuable industry positioning.

The leader can sit back calmly; the runner-up must hustle—otherwise, everyone will lump the runner-up together with third, fourth, and irrelevant players.

Huayi preferred being a persistent runner-up over being a company with no presence at all.

Yan Li supported Huayi’s strategy.

Without opponents, how could there be exposure? If the entertainment industry were a stagnant pond and Yi’an ruled alone, it might sound great—but it was bad for the company and commercial development.

When Huayi jumps, Yi’an has someone to compete with, which highlights its own brilliance, fuels internal motivation and urgency, enlivens the industry, and makes its stories more credible.

Why did the influence of many unified dynasties fall short of the small state of Shu Han? Because Shu Han had drama, had appeal.

For the National Day season, Huayi was willing to gamble, and Yi’an was ready to match them blow for blow.

If they won, no need to elaborate; if they lost, Yi’an’s core wouldn’t be damaged.

According to plan, Yi’an wouldn’t go public until next year—plenty of time to absorb any negative impact.

Moreover, unlike Huayi, which relied solely on film production and star strategy—both vulnerable to fluctuations—Yi’an had additional safeguards.

Yi’an also had its theater chain as a foundation, plus two major strategic partners: Weibo and Tudou.

As long as the theater market didn’t collapse and Weibo and Tudou remained stable, Yi’an could recover even after a string of ten flops.

Yan Li even called Wang Zhongjun directly to discuss the details of the National Day battle.

If they were going to fight, they’d fight well—otherwise, wasting such a good opportunity would be a shame.

In Huayi’s office, Wang Zhongjun hung up the phone, looking slightly bewildered; his brother asked:

“Brother, what did Yan Li mean?”

Yan Li’s first call, Wang Zhongjun dared not answer—he summoned his brother and several Huayi executives, then called back with speakerphone on so everyone could listen.

Wang Zhongjun shook his head: “Hard to say.”

In the call, Yan Li’s message was simple: let’s fight a civilized battle; since these are tribute films, many underhanded tactics are off-limits, so both sides should make gentlemanly agreements and avoid crossing lines over box office rivalry.

Additionally, Yan Li said that if Huayi lost, he wouldn’t pursue it relentlessly—he’d stop at the point.

The first part was clear to all Huayi executives, but the second part was puzzling.

Humiliation? Unnecessary—and Yan Li sounded sincere.

It sounded genuine, but why would Yan Li do this?

One executive pondered a moment, then said: “Could Yan Li not want Huayi’s stock price to drop?”

Another executive questioned: “How’s that possible? We’re rivals—Huayi’s fall should make him happy.”

“Why not?”

Wang Zhongjun suddenly understood: “You’re only looking at our rivalry with Yi’an, ignoring the entire industry’s big picture.”

At this, some suddenly grasped it, others still half-understood; Wang Zhongjun continued.

“Yan Li always thinks big—he never limits himself to one battle or one territory, but views things from a global, future-oriented perspective—taking one step, looking ten ahead.”

“When Yi’an was just starting, everyone wanted to make movies—he did the opposite, taking huge risks to build a theater chain.”

“Back then, people laughed at him for being foolish, for overreaching—but now? After merging, Yi’an instantly filled its weak link, Datongle the entire industry chain, and overtook everyone on a curve.”

“So his thinking can’t be judged by ordinary logic.”

“We see only Huayi versus Yi’an, thinking only about who wins or loses—he sees the entire industry, pondering total victory or total defeat, or how Yi’an can win even bigger.”

“Think about it: Yi’an will definitely outpace Huayi—the higher Huayi’s market value, the higher Yi’an’s ceiling becomes; conversely, if Huayi’s stock price falls, Yi’an will be affected too.”

“In this sense, Yan Li might even hope Huayi’s stock surges more than we do.”

Wang Zhonglei’s eyes lit up: “Then if that’s the case, let’s lower our stock price…”

He hadn’t finished speaking when he slapped himself.

If Huayi’s stock price was low, Yi’an could compensate elsewhere—but Huayi would lose real money.

Wang Zhongjun didn’t get angry; Huayi had suffered too many losses at Yan Li’s hands, leaving both brothers with psychological scars—whenever they saw a chance to make Yan Li suffer silently, they forgot everything else.

He sighed, murmuring: “This is Yan Li’s other trait—he excels at using open strategies.”

Even if you figure out his plan, you’re still forced to follow his path.

One path leads to mutual gain; the other leads to killing him eight hundred but losing three thousand five hundred—anyone with a functioning brain picks the former.

Wang Zhongjun had clashed with Yan Li more than most, understood him better—and the more he understood, the more his morale crumbled.

When Yi’an was weak, Yan Li used underhanded tricks; now that he held clear advantage, he simply crushed opponents with raw power.

This approach was the most frustrating!

The key was Yan Li was exceptionally sharp—he easily countered any dirty tactic, forced you into open combat, then pounded you with sheer strength.

Originally, Huayi had been full of fighting spirit for this National Day battle—win or lose, they’d show Huayi’s spirit.

Now, they realized: whether they won or lost, Huayi gained less than Yi’an—it was just doing someone else’s laundry, and morale was already slipping.

Seeing the complex expressions on their faces, Wang Zhongjun quickly shifted focus away from Yi’an and turned to their own situation.

With the IPO imminent, Huayi would soon have money—and needed to act boldly.

Besides Feng Xiaogang’s earthquake epic, Xu Laoguai’s historical epic, and a joint all-star blockbuster with several top celebrities.

Also, they needed to invest in theaters and the internet.

Yi’an’s model of film + theaters + internet had become the standard answer for every film company.

Orange Sky’s acquisition of Shaw Brothers focused on theaters; Huayi, Bona, and others were all planning theater investments.

If you had the ability, build your own; if not, partner up or take equity; if all else failed, just slap your name on a theater—either way, you must have a theater division.

As for the internet, Weibo’s importance to Yi’an was obvious to anyone with eyes.

But unlike theaters, where even a failed strategy still leaves you with real cinemas that won’t lose much, the internet was too deep—ordinary attempts were just throwing money away.

Huayi’s strategy was to cling to a big leg—they’d already clung to Jack Ma and could still talk to Tencent.

Yi’an had its own internet system; neither Tencent nor Alibaba could break in—perfect opportunity for Huayi.

Meanwhile, while imitating Yi’an, Huayi would also explore real-world entertainment, music, and gaming.

Music is one of Huayi’s strengths and the only area where it can surpass Yi’an, so it must be given serious attention.

Gaming is the business that the Wang brothers favor; if done well, it could become a cash flow source.

As for physical entertainment, it involves building cultural theme parks based on film IPs.

In plain terms, it’s a disguised version of Disneyland and Universal Studios—developing film-related merchandise and integrating culture with tourism.

The Wang brothers felt it would be hard to surpass Yi’an in theater operations, so they decided to forge a different path by combining physical entertainment to build Huayi’s unique physical advantages.

This way, they could both leverage and establish Huayi’s distinctive strengths while avoiding direct competition with Yi’an by targeting different market timing.

Though they never said it aloud, both Wang brothers felt a bit uneasy facing Yan Li.

Yet they did not know that Huayi’s so-called strategic development plan had long been known to Yan Li.

Move away from film-only focus, develop diversification, and build a larger cultural and entertainment ecosystem.

Huayi’s strategy is sound: film carries high risk, is asset-light, and faces the formidable rival Yi’an—anyone would want to expand into new businesses and build a moat.

But getting the direction right doesn’t guarantee success.

The Disney model is right there—everyone wants to replicate an Eastern Disneyland—but can anyone truly copy it and establish a lasting foothold?

Yan Li had also considered physical entertainment, but quickly abandoned the idea.

The film market, at least for the next decade, remains in an upward phase—even an explosive one; theater investment is a Fengkou , and the prospects are clear.

Physical entertainment is less certain: it’s not just cultural entertainment but also involves tourism and commercial complexes, requiring massive investment and facing far more complex competition, making future prospects hard to judge.

Moreover, Yi’an already has the money-sucking beast of theater operations, so physical entertainment was temporarily shelved.

The reason it wasn’t fully abandoned is that the industry still holds potential—better to observe for now; if one day Yi’an has surplus capital, they could try it, or partner with some company.

Large corporations, once they reach a certain scale, don’t necessarily need to operate certain businesses directly—investment is also a major profit model for big companies.

The same applies to the gaming industry: everyone knows games are profitable, but the key is whether you can outcompete others.

Tencent, NetEase, Shanda, and Giant all started in gaming; other internet companies and various capital firms have also participated to varying degrees in gaming companies and projects.

Not to mention, Yan Li’s YanYe Capital has invested in two gaming companies—with losses and gains alike.

Yaozhidao , Yan Li’s most important investments, even without future intelligence to guide them, are still thoroughly vetted using daily intelligence reports, allowing Yan Li to directly and precisely understand and assess each project.

Even so, losses still occur.

This is an industry where winners take all—Tencent and others grow immensely wealthy, while beneath them lie the accumulated bones of failures.

Thus, under Yan Li’s influence, Weibo and Yi’an, though also exploring gaming ventures, maintain a conservative stance, prioritizing stability.

As for music, Huayi has misunderstood this point.