Chapter 77: Yan Li: With Bingbing, It Was Love at First Sight

Yan Li stayed in Zao City until the tenth day of the lunar new year, signing the contract with Zao City Television for the purchase of “Conquest” before preparing to return to Jingcheng.

Thanks to Chen Jianjun’s influence, the contract with Zao City Television was relatively generous—eight thousand yuan per episode—making it worth Yan Li’s time.

The most crucial project, however, was “Railway Guerrillas”; Yan Li dug deeper and found the returns were genuinely high.

The investment was roughly within fifteen million yuan, but with subsidies and support, the actual cost was likely around eight to ten million yuan.

As a mainstream-themed drama of this scale, backed by Shanxi Film, its broadcast on national satellite TV was a certainty—and likely not just a provincial channel.

Yan Li roughly calculated that if everything went smoothly, selling all rights could bring in over twenty million yuan; after deducting costs, profits might exceed ten million.

There was also an implicit benefit: if the mainstream drama was well-made, the authorities would inevitably offer policy advantages, beneficial to both Yan Li personally and his company’s development.

This idea had come to him through Peng Dan, whom he’d met through “The Treasure Basin.”

According to [Annual Intelligence], this sister later specialized in mainstream themes, earning the nickname “Red Artist,” and rose from a career in Category III films to hold prestigious titles like Standing Committee Member of the All-China Youth Federation and Provincial-level CPPCC Committee Member.

In China’s business world, having these titles didn’t necessarily mean much—but lacking them meant you’d definitely be represented by others…

————

“Mom, stop stuffing it—I can’t eat all this.”

When Yan Li returned home for the holiday, he came with bags upon bags; when he left, it was even more—bags and extra-large bags.

“You don’t have to eat it all—your girlfriend and classmates can share it. Everything’s homemade, clean, and you can’t buy it outside.”

In the past, when Yan Li came home for winter break, Zhang Hong would hold back, fearing he’d be overloaded on the train; now that he had a car, she had no reason to hold back and stuffed it full.

Yan Li had no choice but to let her do as she pleased; by the end, not only was the trunk packed to the brim, but the back seat was full too.

Even the front passenger seat had a brand-new cotton quilt his grandmother had prepared.

The old lady had somehow heard that Jingcheng was colder than home, and assumed her grandson was suffering through the cold there, so she packed him a quilt to take back—and that morning, she’d even come to supervise him putting it in the car.

After packing everything, Yan Li got in, fastened his seatbelt: “Mom, I’m leaving. Tell Dad—if the shop’s too busy, hire some help.”

After the New Year, Yan Family Braised Meat officially launched, and business was booming—Old Yan didn’t even have time to see his son off.

“Got it. Your second aunt is coming to help in a couple days. Drive safely, and call me when you arrive.”

Zhang Hong muttered a few more reminders; Yan Li waved goodbye, gently pressed the accelerator, and drove away from home.

As familiar streets faded behind him, Yan Li felt a quiet pang of farewell—but once on the highway, he gradually adjusted his mood, becoming determined and confident.

A new year, a new journey—time to work hard!

…

Yan Li had originally planned to visit Dong Xuan at the “Snow Goddess Dragon” set after the New Year.

But Dong Xuan’s mother couldn’t bear to let her daughter spend the holiday alone on set, so she arrived on the third day of the New Year to keep her company.

This completely disrupted Yan Li’s plans!

Dong Xuan was eager for Yan Li to meet her mother, but Yan Li dared not go—meeting parents often changed things, and it was better to avoid it for now.

Fortunately, the “Snow Goddess Dragon” set was nearly finished; Dong Xuan would return to Jingcheng soon enough—seeing her a little earlier or later wouldn’t matter.

Dong Xuan wasn’t in Jingcheng, Qin Lan was still filming on set, and Huang Shengyi was still on winter break.

Yan Li could only return alone to Jimen.

But Jimen was empty too—everyone else was home for the holiday, including Lin Jiachuan, whom Yan Li had granted leave until after Lantern Festival.

Still, Yan Li didn’t feel lonely—he had his own things to do.

Last year, he’d built up a solid network of contacts; the holiday was a good chance to visit them, exchange gifts, and maybe uncover new opportunities.

Also, “Conquest” was set to premiere on Jinmen TV Channel 3 at the end of February, with broadcasts scheduled soon after in Jinling, Xi’an, and other stations.

Yan Li planned to contact media outlets to help promote it—not just for publicity, but to attract attention from provincial satellite channels.

…

“Editor Sun, please help me out.”

“Teacher Yang, thank you for your efforts.”

After socializing with a newspaper editor and several reporters, handing out red envelopes as token fees, Yan Li finally caught his breath—then received a call from Tong Dawei.

“Old Yan, what’s going on? I’ve been waiting half an hour.”

“I know, I just finished—ten minutes, I’ll be there.”

With strict drunk-driving checks in Jingcheng during the holiday, Yan Li didn’t risk driving—he called a taxi and soon arrived at a bar in Sanlitun.

After contacting Tong Dawei, the latter quickly appeared and led him inside.

The moment they entered, deafening music blasted, lights flashed wildly, and a crowd of young people danced and jumped wildly to the beat, full of energy.

“Fun, right?”

Tong Dawei shouted; Yan Li glanced at the chaotic scene and nodded vaguely.

He didn’t dislike the bar’s atmosphere, but he wasn’t particularly fond of it—mainly because it was too loud; prolonged exposure gave him a headache.

They entered a private booth inside, where about seven or eight people were loosely gathered; Tong Dawei put an arm around Yan Li and introduced him.

“Yan Li, my friend—he’s an actor, graduated from Beijing Film Academy.”

Tong Dawei then introduced the others, but Yan Li already recognized half of them without needing the introductions.

Venice Film Festival winner, Xia Yu

Popular young actress, Li Bingbing

Popular young actor, Ren Quan

And a familiar face scowling at him—Fan Xiaopang.

This was a Huayi Artists’ gathering—no, more accurately, a Wang Jinghua-sponsored gathering of young artists.

After meeting Wang Jinghua, Yan Li had used the system to learn about her relationship with Huayi—they were partners, with Wang Jinghua functioning as a semi-independent co-owner, operating as her own faction within Huayi.

Thus, Wang Jinghua’s artists weren’t strictly Huayi artists, and not all Huayi artists fell under Wang Jinghua’s umbrella.

But if Wang Jinghua was hosting a gathering, why had Tong Dawei brought Yan Li here?

Yan Li’s mind turned, and combining this with scattered past intelligence, he understood.

Hmph—Sister Wang still hasn’t given up on him!

Indeed, Xia Yu, the most famous among them and the one who’d worked longest with Wang Jinghua, was especially warm toward Yan Li—likely because Wang Jinghua had instructed him to court him.

Still, Yan Li had little interest in Xia Yu’s overtures; instead, he paid closer attention to Fan Xiaopang, who was chatting with Li Bingbing.

So, not long after, Yan Li seized an opportunity to approach and raised his glass.

“Bingbing, long time no see.”

Fan Xiaopang was surprised, but he couldn’t ignore a smiling face—he nodded. “Long time no see.”

Li Bingbing looked curious: “You two know each other?”

“We worked together on a drama before—I took to Bingbing instantly, we clicked right away.”

Yan Li explained; Fan Xiaopang, listening beside him, froze, staring at Yan Li strangely.

Is this bastard amnesiac or drunk?

After how they’d clashed on “The Treasure Basin,” how could he dare say they hit it off instantly?

Exactly!

Yan Li’s smile was utterly sincere—he had no instant fondness for Fan Xiaopang, but he’d fallen for “Fan Nine Hundred Million” at first sight.

A nine-hundred-million-yuan billionaire!

He wouldn’t become her kept man, but this girl made that much money—she’d surely become a massive star, and her business acumen was impressive.

Who knows? Maybe we’ll have a chance to collaborate and make money later—better to stay on good terms than to make an enemy…

(End of Chapter)