Chapter 368

Feng Xiaogang finished his cameo and left with deep resentment.

Xu Qing ignored him, and she couldn't afford to provoke Yan Li, so she left with resentment.

To be fair, Xu Qing using Yan Li as a shield was perfectly suited.

Even Jiang Wen, Grandpa Ge, and others might have liked her, but they wouldn't necessarily risk offending Feng Xiaogang, who was currently at the height of his influence.

Even if they were willing, they couldn't intimidate Feng—if he truly brazened it out and kept harassing Xu Qing, no one would dare openly break ties.

Only Yan Li didn't care whether he offended Feng Xiaogang; he even enjoyed seeing him humiliated.

And Feng Xiaogang, having been humiliated by Yan Li before, dared not persist or act like a bully—otherwise, if Yan Li lost his temper and pointed at his nose to curse him, Feng the Great Director's face would be truly lost.

So, during this cameo in Let's Shoot the Bullet, Feng Xiaogang didn't even brush against the goddess's side, got mocked by Yan Li several times as a face, and didn't suffer a hypertensive episode—considering his resilience, that was already impressive.

Although Feng Xiaogang had left, Xu Qing, using her "older sister-younger brother" routine and adding a new "repaying a favor" buff, grew even more fond of hanging around Yan Li.

But this older sister knew how to play hard to get.

She gave out sweets and benefits generously when needed, but at critical moments, she'd revert to the "I'm not that kind of older sister" act.

The meaning wasn't hard to guess: Xu Qing was past her prime, and Yan Li wasn't short of women—unless she played some games to slow things down, she feared he'd get what he wanted and then grow bored.

Besides, despite being over forty, due to her family, personality, and background, she still carried traces of a young girl's mindset.

That was precisely what made her ageless and uniquely charming: she possessed both the mature allure of years of experience and a touch of youthful romantic innocence.

Thus, Xu Qing thoroughly enjoyed the flirtatious atmosphere with Yan Li, this top-tier man—it made her feel young again.

Xu Qing was willing to play hard to get, so Yan Li played along, treating it as entertainment with a bit of sweetness.

Even if he lost out on age, he accepted it—after all, since childhood, his family had taught him that losing is fortune.

Set of Let's Shoot the Bullet, mobile trailer

Since filming had settled into a rhythm, Yan Li had acquired another mobile trailer, modified into a mobile office, to work on-site.

He could finish work during breaks, return home more relaxed, and still have time for personal matters.

This trailer wasn't the one from The New Three Kingdoms; though specially modified, it was outdated and still had many shortcomings.

Polite term? Mobile office. Impolite term? Mobile shed.

Back then, when money was tight, Yan Li had put up with it—but now he had a large cash reserve, so he wouldn't endure hardship anymore.

Thus, combining experience from The New Three Kingdoms, Yan Li made new demands and commissioned a custom trailer.

The new trailer was larger and more luxurious.

Besides a dedicated luxury desk and executive chair, it had a separate sleeping area and bathroom, equipped with high-end temperature control, ventilation, lighting systems, smart operation, full-vehicle premium soundproofing, plus refrigerator, coffee machine, printer, LCD display, and other living or office amenities.

To put it simply, many bosses' offices didn't have better conditions than Yan Li's trailer.

Yan Li sat at his desk, browsing relevant documents.

In late September, the National Day box office window was approaching; preliminary promotion for The Message was about to begin.

Unlike last time with Painted Skin, when Yan Li had held authority—he was the lead, and both actresses were co-females; under Yan Li's mediation, their rivalry wasn't intense.

But this time with The Message, Yan Li wasn't present; Sun Honglei, Liu Huahua, and others lacked weight and dared not compete with Shuang Bing for the spotlight.

So during the promotional period, over billing and related treatment, Shuang Bing started causing trouble.

The production team couldn't afford to offend either of them, so they escalated the issue to Yan Li for intimidation and suppression.

"Knew these two women weren't good people."

This was somewhat expected by Yan Li—after all, Shuang Bing's rivalry was normal, and in a dual-female lead, who was the primary actress definitely gained more benefits; even if they didn't fight, their teams wouldn't be able to hold back.

But while they quarreled, they still had limits—they didn't sabotage the production; Yan Li merely soothed and warned them a few times, and the issue wasn't serious.

Also, Yan Li reviewed Weibo's newly launched Weiyin Report, which, leveraging Weibo's massive traffic and celebrity promotion, had registered quite well.

Meanwhile, Weibo and Weiyin were actively interacting, deepening synergy in the music section to attract and activate music-loving users.

Compared to other music players, Weiyin's key advantage, beyond listening and Weibo traffic, was its ability to build social attributes via Weibo.

For example: sharing a song on Weibo, discussing it with netizens, viewing related follow dynamics, or seeing which songs celebrities listened to or recommended, and so on.

Using music to build interest communities enriched Weibo's entire user ecosystem and increased stickiness.

In short, Weibo wasn't just making Weiyin a player—it was creating a highly integrated, tightly bound music business segment.

Record albums were out of fashion; portable players were long obsolete; online or mobile phone listening was gradually becoming mainstream.

At this moment, music players were like old radio stations and music charts—likely to become the strategic battleground for pop music.

Whoever seized this key territory first might not monopolize the entire market, but could carve out a solid share.

Yan Li thought for a moment and issued relevant directives.

First, continue exploring the "music + social" path—leveraging Weibo's advantages while also feeding back to Weibo.

Second, increase high-quality content to attract users.

Current pop music is dominated by Hong Kong and Taiwan singers—more accurately, by Taiwan Province singers.

But with the development of the internet, mainland China has produced some talented online singers, though these people still receive little attention.

Weiyin could seize this opportunity to sign them—enriching platform content while also launching a high-minded slogan supporting mainland new-generation singers.

Simultaneously, using Weiyin + Weibo + Yi'an's low-cost, low-risk star-making investments, landing even one successful artist is profit; if they gamble right and hit one or two high-popularity acts, it's even sweeter.

Third, acquire legitimate music copyrights.

Just as film and television copyrights will continue to be formalized, music will follow suit.

In fact, compared to internet film and television in its infancy, music, due to its simple medium, was easier to spread and had long been pirated online—contributing significantly to the decline of record albums.

Until now, some music companies have gradually begun to value internet music copyrights, but the market remains chaotic.

At this moment, Weiyin can opportunistically acquire song copyrights or permanent authorizations from singers and companies at low prices.

Even if Weiyin ultimately fails, this collection of copyrights could still be sold for a good price.

After handling some miscellaneous tasks and making two calls, Yan Li checked the time—there was still a while before his next scene; he decided to watch a drama.

At that moment, the trailer door suddenly knocked, then opened, and Xu Qing stepped in, wearing a qipao.

Yan Li was speechless; this sister was becoming increasingly brazen.

Generally speaking, female stars still care somewhat about public perception on such matters.

Aside from Fan Xiaopang, who openly flaunted it, others might cover their ears while stealing a bell, or hold back out of caution—but in front of others, they'd at least conceal it, keeping things low-key.

But Xu Qing, perhaps because rumors about her never stopped, didn't care what was said about her and Yan Li.

Beyond putting on the facade of "sister and younger brother," she never hid her closeness to Yan Li, even when she heard whispers from the crew—she simply did as she pleased.

Xu Qing had visited Yan Li's RV often enough that the guards and assistants nearby no longer bothered to announce her—she could just knock and walk in.

"Busy?"

Xu Qing glided over to Yan Li's side, leaning casually against his desk: "You're filming and working at the same time—aren't you exhausted?"

"If I don't work hard, how else will I eat?"

Yan Li stood up, stretched, and since the RV had air conditioning, he'd taken off his costume and worn only an undershirt, his muscle contours faintly visible.

Xu Qing's eyes lit up; she reached out to touch him directly—through the fabric wasn't enough, so she slipped her hand inside.

"Sister Xu, you do this every day—I feel like you're taking advantage of me."

Yan Li grumbled, but Xu Qing didn't care: "You're my little brother—what's the harm if I touch you? You can touch me back."

What's the point of just touching?

Yan Li sat back down, wrapped his arm around her slender waist, and pulled her onto his lap: "Sister, I'm leaving the set in a couple days."

Xu Qing froze: "Why?"

"National Day holiday—I need to check in. I've taken a few days off from Old Jiang."

"Then go. I'm not leaving."

Xu Qing had few scenes; if she wanted to finish and leave, she could wrap up the remaining few in just two or three days—but she wasn't in a hurry, lingering lazily around the set every day.

No one knew whether someone had given instructions or whether Jiang Wen was showing support, but her scenes were arranged more sparsely, making it perfectly natural for her to stay on set.

"I don't believe you—what if you lie to me?"

Yan Li pressed his head against Xu Qing's chest, hesitating as he asked. Xu Qing tilted her head slightly, gently biting her lower lip.

"I… I won't lie to you."

"I don't believe you."

Yan Li's meaning was simple: verbal promises alone weren't enough—there needed to be a verbal promise.

In plain terms, the previous sweet treats weren't enough anymore—they needed to be amplified.

Xu Qing was used to this; though it seemed like she was the one pulling the strings, the real control always lay with Yan Li.

Yan Li played along with her, but every couple days his appetite grew larger, so she had to slowly give in, satisfying—even indulging—him.

So Yan Li moved the mouse, opened the bearded version of "The Smiling, Proud Wanderer," and found the clip where Xu Qing portrayed Ren Yingying.

On screen, Ren Yingying and Linghu Chong played flute and guqin in perfect harmony, but Yan Li didn't understand musical instruments, so he let Xu Qing play alone.

————

Two days later, Yan Li left the "Let the Bullets Fly" set to attend the premiere of "The Message."

Before that, "The Founding of a Republic" had already been released in mid-September.

This film featured a star-studded cast, backed strongly by China Film Group, and due to its status as a tribute film, some institutions and affiliated organizations had even arranged group viewings—no need to compete directly with "The Message" and other films during the National Day holiday.

And "The Founding of a Republic" performed exceptionally well; by the eve of the National Day holiday, its box office had already surpassed 250 million.

Considering a small surge during the National Day holiday, over 300 million was certain, and it had a real chance of breaking the domestic box office record.

Yet beneath the roaring box office, "The Founding of a Republic" received mediocre reviews.

Those who disliked mainstream propaganda criticized its propaganda; those who supported mainstream propaganda found it frustrating that the film focused on democratic factions, putting the cart before the horse.

In short: the right complained it was too left, the left complained it wasn't left enough!

Meanwhile, the massive use of celebrity bombardment for promotion was debated as commercial fraud, and some actors' performances and nationalities were also criticized.

Of course, there was no shortage of praise, especially from mainstream media outlets, which offered considerable acclaim.

Most audiences also gave it some recognition; though the plot wasn't particularly brilliant, it wasn't dull either, had certain highlights, and the sea of stars truly shone brightly—just for that, the ticket price was worth it.

For a tribute epic, high box office, wide influence, and acceptable reviews—with no sensitive missteps—this was already a success.

Either way, China Film Group and Han Sanping were satisfied and had already begun planning a post-National Day victory banquet.

For this premiere of "The Message," Han Sanping came in person to show support.

Notably, the day before, Huayi Brothers held the premiere of "Dawn 1949," and China Film Group's representative was their second-in-command.

Han Sanping could have easily treated both sides equally, but whether to express his regard for Yi'an's Priority or to thank Yan Li for his help on "The Founding of a Republic," this time he clearly took sides.

Not only did he take sides at the premiere, but more importantly, he took sides in theater screenings.

"The Message" and "Dawn 1949" were both scheduled for the National Day holiday, with release dates just one day apart—direct, head-to-head competition, blade to blade.

In today's theater market, although Wanda had become the industry leader, China Film Group held shares and broad influence across multiple chains, and with its unique status, remained the undisputed powerhouse.

China Film Group's backing of "The Message" directly resulted in its screening rate being 15% higher than "Dawn 1949."

Note: this 15% was achieved even though "The Founding of a Republic" still occupied a significant share.

As a result, from the very start, "Dawn 1949" was placed on the defensive.

"The Message" premiere began at 10 a. m.; after arriving, Yan Li's first move was to go to another theater to watch "Dawn 1949."

Since this was direct competition, and "Dawn 1949" was independently distributed by Huayi Brothers without Yi'an's Priority's involvement, Yan Li had never seen the finished film.

Although he'd read online reviews and audience feedback from the first day, without watching the film himself, he still felt he lacked direct insight into this competitor.

Fan Xiaopang, Li Bingbing, and the others were preparing for the red carpet; Deng Chao, Wang Ou, and others accompanied Yan Li to watch the movie.

Among them, Wang Ou had already seen it once and gave his evaluation: "It's okay."

The film began; the villain portrayed by Huang Xiaoming appeared first, establishing the theme with assassinations and sabotage.

Yan Li looked at Deng Chao: "Look—progress isn't just yours anymore."

Appearing in works such as "The Right Path of Humanity Is Vast Change" and "Let the Bullets Fly" was a significant trial for Deng Chao's acting, and his professional level showed visible improvement.

This slightly altered his mindset, and when Huang Xiaoming appeared in "Dawn 1949," Deng Chao immediately felt the pressure.

In past roles, Huang Xiaoming's acting was heavily marked, making it easy for audiences to sense he was performing, thus breaking immersion.

Only a few roles suited him well enough to let him perform effectively, but such roles often caused him to unconsciously adopt an air of superiority, appearing pretentious.

This was true of Yang Guo in the later part of "The Legend of the Condor Heroes," Xu Wenchang in "New Shanghai Bund," and the sniper in "The Gunman," released in April.

The antagonist in "Dawn 1949," while still retaining a hint of pretension, was handled naturally.

His appearance also broke new ground: he abandoned his usual handsomeness, becoming unkempt and rough, with a temperament and personality that was irritable yet tinged with gloom—two entirely opposite traits that he somehow blended well.