Chapter 76: Small Tricks of Distribution and

On the first day of the New Year, Qin Lan went around the village paying New Year’s visits and playing; on the second day, she visited her uncle’s house and relatives on her mother’s side.

On the third day, Yan Li began attending to serious matters.

In a certain residential area, Chen Jianjun, deputy director of Zao City Television Station, returned home from social engagements; no sooner had he opened the door than he saw his wife and son talking with a young stranger in the living room.

Seeing him enter, his wife happily introduced him: “Lao Chen, come here—our relatives have come to visit.”

“This is…?”

Chen Jianjun was uncertain—he was at that age, rarely moved about, and didn’t recognize distant younger relatives.

“This kid’s name is Yan Li. His maternal great-uncle is my second brother’s sister-in-law’s cousin’s father-in-law.”

Chen Jianjun: “...”

Damn, how the hell did they trace this connection?

Of course, it was traced through the intelligence system; in a small city like Zao, two locals could always find some distant kinship through seven twists and eight turns, though the ties varied in closeness.

Since learning of Chen Jianjun, Yan Li had triggered the intelligence system to uncover related connections, and unexpectedly stumbled upon this kinship.

For Yan Li, this was good news—no matter how distant the relation, it at least gave him a reason to visit and made building rapport easier than dealing with a stranger.

“You’re Yan Li, right? What do you want from me?”

Chen Jianjun was a system insider, experienced and well-traveled; hearing this distant relative had come calling with gifts, he immediately understood the situation.

“Director Chen, here’s the thing—I’ve set up a film and television company in Beijing...”

Yan Li explained the general situation; with the kinship as a foundation, many things became easier to say, outcomes were easier to manage, and crucially, someone was there to speak on his behalf.

Before Chen Jianjun could respond, his wife chimed in to plead his case.

“Lao Chen, you’ve got to help—he’s all alone in Beijing, struggling hard.”

Chen Jianjun couldn’t help glancing at his wife—he’d never seen her so enthusiastic before; clearly, the gifts were substantial.

Yet inwardly, Chen Jianjun did find Yan Li’s “Conquest” somewhat intriguing.

Putting kinship aside for now, Chen Jianjun was primarily interested in the subject matter.

For a city-level TV station with limited funds, trying to snatch scraps from big-network offerings made subject choice critical.

Crime and detective dramas had a solid audience base—dramatic, attention-grabbing plots, with a consistent main thread of police catching criminals, ensuring high viewer retention, making them a perennial favorite among local stations.

Moreover, another key factor: Chen Jianjun learned multiple TV stations had already purchased this drama.

Among them were provincial capital stations like Jinling and Xi’an, as well as provincial channels; with these stations backing it, Chen Jianjun naturally took “Conquest” more seriously.

Yan Li, of course, knew this well—he emphasized how enthusiastically several stations had endorsed the drama.

Having personally handled the distribution of a TV drama, Yan Li had learned many tricks.

The hardest part of any venture is the beginning—the most difficult hurdle is securing the first reputable TV station.

But once you break through, everything else becomes smoother; the more stations you secure, the easier future deals become.

It’s a bit like herd mentality—once viewers see so many stations have bought it, they assume it must be good and follow suit.

And there’s another unspoken rule here: TV stations spend public money when purchasing dramas.

So, compared to the drama’s actual quality, many decision-makers care more about whether the spending is justifiable and defensible to their station.

That’s why dramas with stars sell better—and at higher prices.

The star’s fame provides a solid justification; even if the drama flops, it’s merely a misjudgment, understandable, no suspicion of foul play.

Similarly, “Conquest” has no big stars, but it’s selling well.

If other stations are buying it, then our station buying it makes perfect sense too—equally justifiable.

With justification solidified, Yan Li’s distribution difficulty dropped dramatically...

If Yan Li had merely shown up with this distant, eight-removed kinship and some gifts, Chen Jianjun might not have taken the bait.

But “Conquest” had subject-matter advantages plus backing from multiple stations—purchasing it was normal business, no one could object, and it might even earn him some face; Chen Jianjun’s attitude naturally changed.

————

“Here, Uncle-in-law, let me toast you.”

With mutual interest, by dinner time, the distant relative had become “real family.”

Besides the “Conquest” matter, Yan Li also received news from Chen Jianjun.

Shandong TV’s Shanying Productions intended to spearhead a new TV adaptation of “Railway Guerrillas.”

Zao City strongly supported this; the government even considered partnering with the drama to build a film and television city—both to support filming and to develop tourism.

Yan Li’s expression shifted: “Uncle-in-law, do you think I could join this project?”

With Shanying leading, local support, and a famous red classic, this drama would sell easily; with luck, it might even air on CCTV.

Chen Jianjun glanced at him and doused him with cold water.

“Do you know the film and television city alone is projected to cost over a hundred million? This drama’s budget is at least twenty to thirty million—can you afford it?”

“I can’t afford it alone, but I can find partners. Besides, aren’t there usually subsidies and support for main-theme dramas?”

Yan Li was well-informed—he understood the industry’s inner workings better than many seasoned veterans.

Shanying could invest some, subsidies could cover part, the local government could add more—Yan Li had the confidence to fill the remaining gap.

“It’s not as simple as you think.”

Chen Jianjun shook his head; Yan Li saw profit, but others weren’t fools—many were watching this project.

Yet Yan Li believed he could compete—he could leverage connections, and crucially, he had one advantage.

He was a native of Zao City!

Raised hearing stories of the Railway Guerrillas, growing up on the very land where the wartime heroes fought, he could truthfully claim, in promotional terms, to be a true inheritor of the Railway Guerrillas’ red legacy.

At least Yan Li believed that, under equal conditions, Zao City officials would favor him, a local son.

And for regional red-themed projects, local official influence still carried weight.

With hometown backing, even if Yan Li couldn’t secure the entire project, he’d still have a chance to join.

After listening, Chen Jianjun pondered and thought it had potential: “You can try.”

Yan Li raised his glass earnestly: “Uncle-in-law, I admit I have personal ambitions for this project, but I truly want to make a great “Railway Guerrillas” drama—to honor our hometown’s ancestors. If I’m lucky enough to get this chance, I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”

“I believe you.”

Chen Jianjun raised his glass and clinked it with Yan Li’s; after a moment’s thought, he said: “I can pass your message along to the city, and I have an acquaintance at Shanying...”

(End of Chapter)