Chapter 372: Yan Li

“President Yan is coming to Hangzhou; we at Alibaba will sweep our floors clean to welcome him.”

Jack Ma shook hands with Yan Li and left first; Yan Li then greeted several Huayi shareholders one by one.

The Wang brothers felt a bit off—this was their home turf, these were their shareholders, yet it felt as if Yan Li were the host.

“Manager Wang.”

Yan Li called out; Wang Zhongjun instinctively answered, then hurried over with a beaming smile.

“President Yan, stay a while longer—I’ve got a bottle of fine wine stashed away; let’s find a quiet spot and savor it together.”

“No need for tasting—I’ve got other business. Let’s discuss today’s matter again; at least on Weibo, I’ll definitely support Huayi.”

Weibo thrives on buzz; Huayi’s IPO involves many stars getting rich overnight, so Weibo will naturally ride this wave of traffic—it’s also laying groundwork for Yi’an.

As for personally promoting Huayi, Yan Li didn’t commit, but he didn’t refuse either.

The meaning was simple: see how sincere Huayi is.

Wang Zhongjun understood—he wasn’t afraid of giving Yan Li some advantage, only afraid Yan Li would suppress Huayi and refuse.

It seemed Yan Li’s vision remained as broad as ever: grabbing territory was one thing, but if there was a win-win opportunity to expand the industry’s ceiling, Yan Li was willing to lend a hand.

“Tomorrow I’ll send Zhonglei to pay a personal visit.”

There were few things Huayi had that Yi’an truly cared about—perhaps just a few hot projects and some top-tier artists.

If Huayi could gain some market momentum, it would be acceptable to offer Yi’an a portion of its shares.

In fact, Yi’an’s involvement might even enhance the projects significantly.

As always: in business, few enmities are permanent.

Under any circumstance, making money comes first—today’s fight is for profit, tomorrow’s peace is for profit, and fighting while negotiating ensures profit on both sides.

Even though the two Wang brothers secretly hated Yan Li, if he could lift Huayi’s stock to twenty billion, they’d kneel and kowtow to him without hesitation.

Likewise, if Huayi could help Yan Li earn a few billion, they’d become his closest brothers, speaking sweeter words to him than they did to Fan Xiaopang and the others.

After some polite small talk, Wang Zhongjun left; Li Bingbing sidled up: “You going home?”

“Uh, I promised I would.”

Yan Li checked the time—it was late; Qin Lan was pregnant, so he’d better behave himself, though he wouldn’t mind working overtime otherwise.

“Alright then.”

Li Bingbing looked disappointed; Yan Li quickly changed the subject: “How’s the film ‘Detective Dee: The Mystery of the Phantom Flame’ coming along?”

“Not going well—it’s stuck between the director and Chen Guofu.”

“The Wind” is now just a step away from 300 million in box office; Li Bingbing, as a star shareholder of Huayi, needs to be tied to a momentum-building project, and many inside Huayi support her.

But director Xu Laoguai and producer Chen Guofu, having previously collaborated with Zhou Young Master, favor Zhou more.

Especially Chen Guofu—Li Bingbing once suspected he had some connection with Zhou Young Master, and he stubbornly backed Zhou; otherwise, the role would already be hers.

Another reason: this film is Huayi’s attempt to retain Zhou Young Master.

If they gave the role to Li Bingbing, Zhou Young Master—who has no equity stake—would be even more determined to leave Huayi.

“Understood. I’ll mention it to him later.”

Yan Li had no objection to adding another condition—he was used to it: taking Huayi’s resources meant owing him favors.

He even asked if there were any roles suitable for Xu Qing and Hu Siyan, offering to help secure them too.

Li Bingbing almost pitied the two Wangs: “Show some decency.”

“What’s that talk? I’m promoting your Huayi artists—meat’s still in the pot. Your boss Wang should thank me for recommending talent.”

Li Bingbing didn’t want to talk to him, but she said: “There’s a Wu Zetian role—it’s reportedly going to Liu Jialing, but Xu Qing could play it too.”

“Perfect.”

Yan Li gave an OK gesture, chatted a bit more, then turned to find Xu Qing, who had been waiting nearby.

“Sister, about last time… never mind, I won’t say it. Right now I don’t have suitable resources, but Huayi has a movie—I’ll go fight with Boss Wang for you.”

Some things must be done before speaking; others must be promised before being done.

Like now: promise something without committing fully. If it’s accomplished, it’s Yan Li’s favor; if not, it’s the Wang brothers failing to support their own. Then Yan Li can offer another resource—better results.

Ugh, Yan Li even felt he was getting downright wicked!

Xu Qing was slightly surprised—not because of the resource, but because of Yan Li’s thoughtfulness.

At her age, a comeback meant little; her drive for career wasn’t strong.

She’d grown up well-off, seen and experienced much; she didn’t have much money, but never lacked, and her material desires were relatively low.

So for Xu Qing, throwing money or resources helped—but emotional value and comfort mattered more; combining both worked best.

Giving you a resource versus personally fighting for you to get it—superficially similar, but the meaning was entirely different.

Xu Qing’s lingering resentment instantly dissipated; she leaned close to Yan Li’s ear, gave him her home address, and said she’d be home in the coming days.

After they finished talking, Yan Li returned to the car; Hu Siyan was already waiting, eagerly asking.

“Brother-in-law, about Xu Qing…”

Yan Li pinched her lips with two fingers: “Don’t ask. Don’t say.”

“Oh.”

Hu Siyan nodded. She wasn’t jealous—well, maybe a little—but mostly curious how the two had gotten together.

But Yan Li wouldn’t say, and wouldn’t let her ask; she had no choice but to bring up something else.

“Brother-in-law, Gan Wei’s been pretty active lately.”

Yan Li leaned back, lying on Hu Siyan’s lap: “How so?”

Hu Siyan expertly massaged his head, then explained.

“Before, our sister group’s big gatherings were always organized by me and Lan Jie—she gave the nod, I handled the arrangements, sometimes dragging Li Xiao Lu to help.”

“Now that Lan Jie is pregnant, she goes out less; outside of visiting her at home, most gatherings—except birthdays—have stopped.”

“But starting in October, Gan Wei slowly began organizing get-togethers again.”

“At first, they were just small groups of two or three; I didn’t pay much attention—big gatherings are hard to organize, relationships vary in closeness, small ones are normal.”

“But gradually I noticed Gan Wei’s gatherings were too frequent—sometimes even daily. That’s unusual.”

Daily gatherings weren’t impossible—close friends often stuck together, even lived together.

But Gan Wei isn’t that kind of person, and she’s married—she has to follow her husband’s schedule.

So despite not acting, she’s harder to pin down than some top stars—timing, location, and nature of gatherings all matter.

Under these circumstances, Gan Wei suddenly organizing frequent sister-group gatherings clearly has ulterior motives.

Hu Siyan attended a few herself and asked Zhao Ke and Li Xiao Lu—they found no abnormal behavior from Gan Wei.

But Gan Wei kept taking the group out to eat, drink, and play, occasionally giving gifts; people who accept favors are indebted, and Hu Siyan clearly felt Gan Wei’s popularity and influence within the group rising daily.

“I suspect she’s taking advantage of Lan Jie’s unavailability to buy loyalty and seize control.”

Hu Siyan voiced her judgment; Yan Li asked: “What’s her goal in seizing control?”

“For her husband’s LeTV.”

Clearly, Hu Siyan had done some research: “Her husband’s LeTV is investing in films and launching LeTV.com—it needs stars to drive traffic. Our Teddy Sister Group has decent fame and can serve them perfectly.”

When Weibo was first launched, Hu Siyan led the Teddy Sister Group in charge; she understood how stars could drive internet traffic.

“Good. Your level’s improved.”

Yan Li complimented her. Though Hu Siyan was a bit idle, pleasure-seeking, and vain, her mind was often sharp.

She immediately sensed Gan Wei’s small moves and made accurate judgments by connecting them to LeTV’s situation—most people couldn’t do that.

“What should we do now? Should I find a way to kick Gan Wei out?”

Hu Siyan certainly didn’t want the Teddy Sister Group taken over by Gan Wei.

With Qin Lan now pregnant, the Teddy Sister Group’s importance had declined—but Hu Siyan still needed it to boost her status.

“Just keep watching. I have my own plan.”

Jia Boss and Gan Wei’s schemes were already clear to Yan Li—he’d even deliberately allowed them.

LeTV had money and power; stars would flock to it anyway. Without the Teddy Sister Group, it’d just be slightly more troublesome.

Better to let the Teddy Sister Group help LeTV, while Yan Li stays behind the scenes and takes his cut.

Hu Siyan didn’t understand Yan Li’s plan and worried: “If we do nothing, won’t everyone be pulled over to LeTV?”

“No.”

Yan Li shook his head: “Think for yourself—if you weren’t connected to me, and faced Gan Wei’s overtures, would you pick a side, or avoid choosing, pleasing both?”

Hu Siyan paused: “I’d avoid choosing, please both—even favor you more, because Yi’an + Weibo is stronger than LeTV and more useful for artists.”

“Exactly. Even if I and LeTV were rivals, when gods fight, what’s it to you?”

“They won’t fully commit to me—why would they fully commit to LeTV?”

When he launched Weibo, Yan Li realized most people were fence-sitters; few truly committed.

This was the right choice: put yourself in their shoes—if Yan Li were one of these stars, he’d do the same.

That’s why he took this matter lightly.

As long as he was strong, and his company was strong, loyalty would follow; the tide was with him—even those who sided with others could still serve him.

“Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, you’ll stay firmly as the second-in-command of the Teddy Sister Group.”

Yan Li teased her—he knew her mind and didn’t mind letting her wave his banner.

“Thank you, brother-in-law.”

Hu Siyan kissed him, then whispered she’d recently bought new toys and asked him to come take a look.

Yan Li felt a headache coming—Qin Lan needed him, Dong Xuan’s dues couldn’t be skipped, and one or two others kept tempting him.

His energy was fine, but his time wasn’t.

……

Huayi had just gone public, and everyone began paying more attention to its total market value—but soon, people started digging into how much each star had made.

After all, Huayi’s market value meant little to most people, but how much the stars earned was a different story.

The former belonged to finance; the latter was gossip, and people were genuinely curious about such things.

This was also one reason Huayi gave stars shares: to leverage their influence and generate positive feedback for the company.

The biggest winner from Huayi’s IPO was Feng Kuzi.

Although the number of original shares remained unchanged, the IPO issued new shares, diluting his stake in Huayi to roughly 2%.

That meant the value of his shares was now close to 200 million.

Feng Kuzi had been Huayi’s first investor in a share issuance, buying original shares at an extremely low price—just a few jiao per share, totaling only a few million yuan—and now his investment had multiplied dozens of times.

Similarly, Zhang Dahuizi, Li Bingbing, and Huang Xiaoming were also early participants with large original shareholdings; each now held stock worth over 100 million.

A return rate of dozens of times, four brand-new entertainment industry billionaires, plus a string of celebrity shareholders worth tens of millions each.

These eye-catching super-hype stories immediately ignited public discourse.

“The God of Stocks Has Descended: Huang Xiaoming Makes Hundreds of Millions, Becomes a Life Winner”

“Feng Xiaogang Admits: I Never Expected to Make This Much”

“The Quiet Big Winner: Li Bingbing’s Net Worth Soars, He Declines Interviews, Focuses on Work”

“Huo Siyan Reveals Her Investment Multiplied Dozens of Times, Jokes About Sisters Begging for Money”

“……”

Countless related news stories kept emerging; entertainment and finance sections alike rode the wave, and Weibo trending topics kept changing to feature them.

Many stars, for various reasons, were reluctant to flaunt their wealth: press releases were fine, but they refused interviews or gave only brief comments.

Only two cases were somewhat special.

One was Huang Xiaoming: though he rarely gave interviews himself, press releases about him were issued constantly, marketing him as an investment master, spinning tales of wealth miracles and so on.

His team likely wanted to elevate him as an elite, all-around figure—this persona was highly valued today.

Also, Huayi needed an active celebrity shareholder to boost its visibility; Li Bingbing was likely to leave, Feng Kuzi lacked popularity, and Huang Xiaoming was the most suitable.

The other was Huo Siyan: this woman had no complex motives—she simply wanted to show off her big earnings.

She was naturally a show-off; if she’d been the only one making money, she might have held back a bit.

But everyone knew about it, and she wasn’t the only one profiting—so it was no surprise she couldn’t keep quiet.

Although Huayi’s Two Wangs had little fondness for Huo Siyan, among Huayi’s female artists who held original shares, either they were as low-key as Li Bingbing, or less famous or less wealthy than Huo Siyan.

For the company’s sake, Huayi had to cooperate by issuing press releases about Huo Siyan, positioning her as another star who had become rich thanks to Huayi.

Huo Siyan was always extravagant and vain, frequently posting on Weibo about luxury brands or gatherings with her friends at upscale venues—she already had a reputation for being wealthy.

Now that she’d made a huge profit, she showed off herself, and Huayi amplified the hype—making her the undisputed representative of wealthy female stars.

Hmm, though Huo Siyan’s title as “wealthy lady” was somewhat hollow.

But setting aside gold-digging powerhouses like the Four Dan and Two Bing, or those from wealthy families or married into rich households, most female stars simply didn’t have as much money as she did.

Even those married into wealthy families might not be worth as much as she was—after all, marrying into wealth didn’t mean you personally had money.

Though Huo Siyan loved spending, she wasn’t foolish enough to leave nothing behind; following Qin Lan’s advice, she used part of her savings to buy property.

Property prices had been rising steadily these past two years—buying meant profit; her current assets—real estate, cash, and stock—totaled close to 30 million, if not more.

In 2009, when even a millionaire was still a big deal, she could barely pass as a minor wealthy lady.

As Yan Li and Jack Ma said, Huayi’s success spurred multiple film and television companies, all eager to become the next Huayi.

Hai Run, Hua Ce, Ci Wen, and others all began circulating rumors of preparing for IPOs.

Meanwhile, stars were greatly encouraged, wanting to emulate Huang Xiaoming and Huo Siyan and make a fortune on the stock market.

At this point, Yan Li finally acted, pouring oil on the fire and making the trend burn even hotter.

Yan Li was invited to appear on “Lu Yu You Yue,” with the main topic being how Huayi’s IPO had changed the film and television market.

“Lu Yu You Yue” had invited Yan Li multiple times before, but he’d missed each due to various reasons.

This time, Yan Li wanted to build momentum, and his reason for choosing “Lu Yu You Yue” was simple: the show was popular.

Many CCTV or media programs were more in-depth and prestigious, but they couldn’t reach a broad audience.

The public didn’t want to hear overly highbrow topics; Lu Yu’s interviews had plenty of flaws, but many questions were exactly what people wanted to know, so its ratings and spread crushed all those so-called in-depth interviews.

Of course, there was now another interview program even more popular than “Lu Yu You Yue”: “Kang Xi Lai Le.”

This Taiwan-based program was currently one of the nation’s most popular variety shows, especially online, where it was arguably number one and had become a fixed traffic hub on Youku; its two hosts ranked among the top on Weibo in follower count.

But the show was too entertainment-focused, unsuitable for Yan Li’s tone, so he chose “Lu Yu You Yue.”

“Lu Yu You Yue” aired on Phoenix TV, but was recorded in Jingcheng.

Yan Li took an afternoon off to participate in the recording; Phoenix TV rushed production and aired the episode just days later.

…

Chaoyang, a certain club

Gan Wei found an excuse to invite the Teddy Sisterhood and some friends over again.

Huo Siyan and Li Xiao came together, surprised to see Jia Laoban chatting with others.

“Wow, your old Jia is here today too?”

Among the Teddy Sisterhood’s partners, Jia Laoban was even more elusive than Yan Li.

Yan Li would occasionally show up; you’d sometimes see him at Qin Lan’s place. But Jia Laoban appeared at their gatherings so rarely you could count his visits on one hand—and most of those times, he came because of Yan Li.

“He’s off today, helping me organize.”

No matter what she felt inside, Gan Wei always presented a picture of perfect harmony with Jia Laoban in public.

Among friends, gossiping about men was normal—even Qin Lan had occasionally complained about Yan Li—but Gan Wei had never uttered a single negative word about Jia Laoban.