Chapter 388: Business Gossip: Yan Li

In late February, Yan Li's YanYe Capital reached an agreement with Xiaomi, acquiring 10% of Xiaomi's shares through a combination of capital and resources.

Boss Lei was still quite energized; Yan Li's involvement brought not just resources and capital, but also considerable confidence to him and his team.

At this time, Boss Lei had decent seniority and reputation, but his personal wealth was truly not high.

Even his seniority leaned more toward Kingsoft; although Shunwei Capital, which he led, performed well, its investments in Vancl, UC, and Dwan (YY) were all internet newcomers still on the rise.

So, Boss Lei's fame currently outweighed his actual strength—he was not yet considered a major player.

Smartphones were a hot trend, but the risks were high; Xiaomi's accumulated resources were limited, and Boss Lei himself had doubts. Having a business genius like Yan Li, known for his sharp vision, betting on him was a significant encouragement.

Even using Yan Li's name yielded excellent results, whether for attracting investment or motivating employees.

Boss Lei immediately announced the news on Weibo, also generating some momentum for Xiaomi.

Seeing this, Yan Li paid it no mind—he knew perfectly well what Xiaomi was built on.

Xiaomi had fairly quickly given him 10% of the shares; it was all because of his personal halo and the various resources he held, which benefited Xiaomi's marketing.

At Xiaomi's peak market value, even if Yan Li kept only half his shares, he'd be worth nearly a hundred billion.

This money wasn't free—he had to deliver, and this aligned perfectly with Boss Lei's interests.

As for whether he'd get dragged down and criticized by Xiaomi's failures—he'd already pocketed hundreds of billions; a little criticism meant nothing.

JD. com, Weibo, Ganji. com, Tudou. com, and the entertainment circle—each of the things Yan Li invested in and operated, which one didn't get criticized?

As always: if you want to make money, don't be too proud!

Besides, Xiaomi had its own boss—Boss Lei was even more eager than Liu Qiangdong of JD to show himself off, tightly binding himself to the company as its primary spokesperson and responsible figure.

Right now, during the startup phase, it was inevitable to get close to Yan Li; but once they reached a certain point, for various reasons, they'd naturally cut ties with Yan Li, erasing or redefining his relationship and role with their company.

At that point, Yan Li would simply be a shareholder or supporter of JD and Xiaomi.

The connection couldn't be fully severed, but when trouble arose, he wouldn't bear the biggest blame.

Tudou. com was a perfect example.

After Wang Wei consciously weakened the visible link between Tudou and Yan Li, and took center stage himself, whenever Tudou ran into trouble, Wang Wei took the blame—Yan Li had little to do with it.

Yan Li even encouraged Boss Lei to be more active on Weibo—to generate some buzz, and if he could get into a public argument or even a duel, that'd be even better.

Compared to Yan and Lei, the outside world had virtually no interest in Yan Li's investment in Xiaomi.

Xiaomi had just been founded; many outsiders didn't even know what the company did, and Yan Li wasn't investing in a company for the first time.

Thus, aside from a few of Boss Lei's fans hyping up "powerful alliance" and some of Yan Li's fans paying attention, no major stir was raised.

Even the sharp-eyed business world mostly viewed it as entertainment.

Outside, there were Apple, Nokia, Samsung; inside, there were established players like Lenovo, ZTE, Coolpad.

Smartphones were a hot trend, but also a bloody red sea of fierce competition; combined with high industry barriers, it was strange anyone would expect success from a newcomer like Boss Lei.

Some mocked Boss Lei for overreaching, and took perverse pleasure in Yan Li's rare misstep.

Yan Li had certainly lost money on investments before—no one in investment ever escaped losses; only gods of wealth descending from heaven never lost.

But Yan Li's investments were conservative; he rarely suffered big losses—mostly angel rounds, tossing away a few million at most, barely reaching eight digits.

Investments exceeding tens of millions had also failed, but he could usually recover part of his capital through share withdrawal, asset sales, or transfers.

As for investments above one hundred million, so far Yan Li had never missed.

Companies he invested in multiple rounds—JD. com, Tudou. com, Ganji. com—all were now profitable, even hugely so; this was why Yan Li was seen as having excellent vision.

The exact amount Yan Li invested in Xiaomi was unknown to outsiders, but rumors claimed he held a two-digit percentage stake.

Boss Lei was at least a known figure—he wouldn't sell so many shares for just a few million. Yan Li's investment was surely at least in the tens of millions.

The smartphone industry burned cash rapidly; to preserve as much equity as possible, any follow-on round could easily cost tens of millions—or even exceed a billion.

Thus, Yan Li might indeed suffer a setback with Boss Lei.

Business gossip!

As one of Yan Li's rare failures, Jiang Wen successfully broke out of obscurity, gaining minor fame even in business circles, and was even used as an adjective.

Once this nickname spread, Jiang Wen was furious—Yan Li and Boss Lei hadn't even done anything yet.

Killing someone is enough with one blow to the head; there were plenty of losing directors—why keep beating a dead horse?

Jiang Wen, already determined to avenge his past humiliation, now devoted himself even more to "A Touch of Sin."

This film couldn't afford to lose—if it did, he'd be permanently nailed to the pillar of shame.

…

Liming Pavilion, private room

Yan Li poured tea for Boss Zhang: "Director Zhang, these are just jokes—please don't feel any pressure."

Previously, when Boss Zhang had extricated himself from the new footage, Yan Li had provided considerable help; Yi'an was powerful and closely tied to China Film Group.

Naturally, Boss Zhang's new project began seeking collaboration with Yan Li.

But this new project involved some bold moves, and its box office prospects were uncertain; he feared Yan Li might issue directives, so he used Jiang Wen's joke as a test.

Yan Li understood his meaning and emphasized again: "Director Zhang, I won't say empty words—if I claimed to interfere with nothing and leave everything to you, I couldn't do it, and you wouldn't believe me."

"But our company will recommend actors and offer related suggestions; however, we respect your rights as director. We can discuss everything slowly—if you truly find something non-negotiable, in art, you will always take precedence."

Yan Li's words were practical—Yi'an spent money to invest and wouldn't abandon its legitimate interests.

But Yi'an wouldn't force Boss Zhang; they aimed to reach mutual agreement and find a balanced compromise.

If no agreement could be reached, the film would still prioritize the director's vision.

This condition wasn't especially favorable, but it wasn't harsh either—no director could avoid external influences.

Even Feng Xiaogang, elevated by Huayi Brothers, couldn't ignore Huayi's interests.

Boss Zhang could accept it; having suffered under Boss Zhang's previous demands, he found Yi'an's attitude gentle and its terms relatively lenient.

After sipping tea, Boss Zhang began discussing casting for "A Love of Hawthorn" with Yan Li.

Since the news of his intention to film this drama emerged after the New Year, rumors had never stopped—many popular young actors and actresses wanted to join, including some of Yi'an's own artists.

Laomouzi isn't satisfied—he wants to use newcomers.

Yan Li wasn't surprised; Laomouzi was famous for preferring newcomers, believing they had spirit, were blank slates to be freely painted on, and had thus launched a string of "Mou Girls."

He ran the numbers in his head: The investment for "Love in a Pomegranate Tree" was low, and its subject matter was inherently limited—even with stars, the chance of a box office smash was slim.

Using newcomers not only boosts talent and cuts costs, but crucially leaves a good impression on Laomouzi.

Yan Li understood: Laomouzi had just escaped the wolf's den and was tense, terrified of jumping straight into another tiger's lair.

So Yan Li intended to use "Love in a Pomegranate Tree" to soothe him, making him feel that Yi'an offered far superior visuals, deepening their cooperation.

"No problem. Zhang Dao gets to decide casting."

Yan Li made the call; Laomouzi exhaled in relief. With Yan Li's backing, he could afford to be firmer—this was precisely why he'd come to Yan Li for consultation; otherwise, all the pleas and favors might have overwhelmed him.

"Zhang Dao, is this newcomer you mentioned a complete amateur—someone who's never acted in a film—or someone who's acted before but has no fame, to be discovered and polished?"

Yan Li thought a moment, then asked again. Laomouzi considered: "Ideally a complete amateur, but the latter is acceptable too."

Someone who's never acted is truly a blank slate, but knows nothing and may not act well at all.

On the contrary, some with a more basic "blank slate" background are actually easier to mold; in the past, many of the "mou nü lang" (Zhang Yimou's leading ladies) were students recruited from major art academies.

Yan Li nodded; this meant the search scope had to expand—Yi'an could also recruit promising talents, and anyone selected would be signed directly.

For the leads of "Love in a Pomegranate Tree," Yan Li wasn't greedy—he wanted at least one signed to Yi'an.

Compared to "Love in a Pomegranate Tree," Yan Li was far more interested in "Jin Ling Thirteen Beauties."

Rumors about this film had circulated since Laomouzi directed the Olympic opening ceremony; many were watching, Yan Li included—he wanted Yi'an to lead this movie.

In response to Yan Li's probe, Laomouzi didn't refuse, but didn't commit either—he said they'd shoot "Love in a Pomegranate Tree" first, then consider the next project.

Never mind anything else: after "Three Musketeers: A Shocking Case," his reputation was utterly ruined; he needed a film to restore it.

This was also a major reason Laomouzi chose to shoot "Love in a Pomegranate Tree" first—he feared audiences would reject "Jin Ling Thirteen Beauties" outright and bury the film before it even began.

Seeing this, Yan Li asked no further questions; Laomouzi already had one foot tied to Yi'an—how could he possibly escape?

After finishing his tea, Yan Li returned to Xinghewan. Since Fan Xiaopang had come back from the countryside for the New Year, he'd been visiting often.

Upon entering, he saw his brother-in-law Fan Chengcheng watching cartoons on TV, while Fan Xiaopang whispered with Yang Tianzhen and a staff member at the dining table.

"Chairman."

Seeing Yan Li, Yang Tianzhen and the others stood to greet him. Yan Li smiled.

Yang Tianzhen sometimes called him "brother-in-law" in private when the mood struck, but mostly used his title—especially when others were present.

"What are you discussing?"

Yan Li pulled up a chair. Yang Tianzhen, quick to read the room, handed him a glass of water.

Fan Xiaopang arranged a pile of photos: "We're picking out outfits for the Cannes Film Festival."

"Isn't Cannes in May?"

"You need to pick them early to get custom tailoring, fittings, and alterations—starting one or two months ahead is normal."

Fan Xiaopang explained. Yan Li was speechless: "It's just Cannes. It's not even the main competition, you're not winning any awards—why so eager?"

Fan Xiaopang had picked similar outfits before, but never this early—two months in advance.

In Yan Li's memory, last time she was certain to win at the Golden Horse, she'd started preparing only half a month ahead—maybe even less.

Fan Xiaopang rolled her eyes at him: "You don't get it."

"What don't I get? Red carpet, boost your status, export then reimport your image."

Who was Yan Li? He understood every trick Fan Xiaopang was playing.