Chapter 81: Plotting and Leeching Off Zhang Dahuizi (Requesting First Subscription)

Is that really necessary?

Li Bingbing looked at the draft contract Yan Li had prepared and felt speechless; just moments ago she’d thought he was a decisive person, and now he’d slapped her in the face.

The film and TV industry at this stage is still in its pioneering phase, with a touch of martial arts camaraderie—when you ask me for a favor, I help; signing a contract feels like looking down on people.

Her sister Li Xue, however, fully endorsed Yan Li’s approach: “White paper, black ink—it saves trouble.”

Though there are righteous and rule-abiding figures in the martial world, there are also plenty of treacherous scoundrels.

We’re in the twenty-first century now; the country has even joined the WTO—mindsets must evolve too. We’re not that close, so having a contract in place puts both sides at ease.

The more formal Yan Li was, the more confident he seemed—and the more reassured Li Xue felt.

Li Bingbing glanced at her sister, then subtly shifted her seat to the center, blocking Yan Li’s line of sight.

Yan Li’s home had a printer—it was office equipment belonging to Yi’an Film & Television.

The company had given out its New Year break; the boss and staff had all gone home for the holiday. The small office had no security, so they moved all important equipment into Jimen to prevent theft.

After signing the contract, Li Bingbing could no longer suppress her eagerness.

“What did you mean by that thing you said earlier?”

“It means exactly what it says.”

Yan Li didn’t pull out a blank A4 sheet; instead, he began explaining his analysis to the Li sisters.

He didn’t mention Wang Jinghua—he couldn’t explain it—so he assumed she was Li Bingbing’s card, then focused entirely on the Wang brothers of Huayi.

“How do you know Mr. Wang and the others prefer outsiders?”

Li Bingbing questioned him, but Yan Li didn’t answer directly; instead he asked: “I have my own sources. Ask yourself honestly—have they ever truly treated you as one of their own?”

“...”

The Li sisters fell silent. Neither was foolish; though Wang Jinghua and Huayi were still in their honeymoon phase, underlying currents were already stirring.

Li Xue looked at Yan Li with quiet insight: “You didn’t stick with Sister Hua because you saw through the truth.”

Yan Li gave no reply, but reiterated Feng Xiaogang’s importance and Li Bingbing’s advantages.

“The strategy is to tackle the hard part first—secure Feng Xiaogang, and you’ve already got 90% of this done.”

The Li sisters whispered among themselves, growing more convinced with every thought.

Their previous focus had been on Wang Jinghua and the Wang brothers—while that could raise the odds, it lacked the decisive, final impact.

But the question remained: how to secure Feng Xiaogang?

“Do I really have to teach you this?”

Yan Li lit a cigarette, then spoke briefly: “Talent, money, beauty—appeal to what he likes.”

Li Bingbing was unimpressed: “That’s it?”

Li Xue stopped her sister and earnestly asked Yan Li: “Can you give us something more specific?”

Yan Li glanced at her, considered for a moment, then offered two suggestions: “From what I know, Feng Xiaogang places great value on face, and due to his early experiences, he’s extremely sensitive to others’ opinions—targeting this could yield surprising results.”

“Also, Liu Zhenyun, the screenwriter of ‘Cell Phone,’ has an excellent personal relationship with Feng Xiaogang. His opinion would carry weight—another solid entry point.”

“Anything else?”

Li Bingbing pressed further, and Yan Li couldn’t help rolling his eyes: “Do you think I’m an oracle?”

He couldn’t say what he knew—he couldn’t explain it. Even the two points above, he’d only claimed because he knew a friend of Feng’s.

“Go try first. I’ll also look into things. We’ll keep in touch, share what we find.”

This wouldn’t be settled in a day or two—Yan Li had divided the roles clearly.

The Li sisters would take the front lines; he’d operate from behind, gathering intelligence and offering strategies when the moment came.

If it succeeded, everyone would be happy. If it failed, he’d lose nothing—just waste a bit of energy and intelligence quota.

The Li sisters exchanged a silent glance. They hadn’t reached their expectation—like Yan Li pointing a finger and them instantly landing the role.

But the gains were still substantial!

They now had a clear action plan, identified their main target, and had concrete operational strategies.

At least it was better than them sitting at home guessing blindly, swinging randomly with no direction.

They chatted a while longer; it was nearly two in the afternoon. Yan Li yawned, then politely dismissed them.

The Li sisters didn’t want to overstay. They rose to leave, but just as they reached the door, Li Xue suddenly turned and asked Yan Li a question.

“If we get Sister Hua to intervene, would Director Feng be more willing to give face?”

Yan Li raised an eyebrow in mild surprise and smiled: “Definitely. But the key is, Sister Hua has more than one artist under her.”

“Got it.”

Li Xue nodded and left with her sister. Yan Li closed the door, returned to his bedroom, took off his clothes, and got into bed. Just before sleep, he suddenly remembered something.

Had helping Li Bingbing snatch the female lead in ‘Cell Phone’ just betrayed Fan Xiaopang?

Let it be betrayal!

After all, she’d said the road was wide, each going their own way. Since there was no real connection, why care about her?

Beijing, a certain apartment

Asleep, Fan Xiaopang suddenly woke from a chill, sensing something intangible slipping away from him—he pulled the blanket tighter...

————

Mid-February, nearing the Lantern Festival, Lin Jiachuan and others gradually returned.

The premiere of ‘Conquest’ was also about to begin.

Yan Li personally took Lin Jiachuan to Jinmen to oversee the viewership ratings of ‘Conquest’ on Jinmen Cultural Channel.

Jinmen, a certain hotel

Lin Jiachuan brought several newspapers: “Brother, here are all the papers covering our drama.”

Yan Li glanced through them briefly—the content was identical: a new drama called ‘Conquest’ was about to air, with a fresh theme, compelling plot, and star Jiang Shan—everyone should watch.

In 2003, film and TV promotion still relied mainly on print media and television.

The TV station didn’t require Yan Li’s attention; his focus remained on print media—in plain terms, paying for news and page space.

But since ‘Conquest’ had too few promotional hooks and limited funds, the promotional effect was underwhelming.

Even fine wine fears a deep alley!

Yan Li took promotion seriously—so much so that a controversial view had taken root in the industry—

A producer or studio boss didn’t need to understand film production, but he absolutely had to know how to hype and market.

Take the current sensation, Zhang Dahuizi, universally recognized as a hype master.

He played the casting game hardest—every Jin Yong drama he produced, he’d flirt with every popular young actor and actress, dominating entertainment news for months.

Often, his dramas were already generating buzz while still in production—unreleased but already hot.

Even Zhang Yimou’s partner, Boss Zhang of New Picture, was extremely skilled at hype.

‘Hero’ grossed 250 million yuan on the mainland—his contribution was indispensable.

Yan Li wanted ‘Conquest’ to explode faster—even hotter than the intelligence predicted—so hype and promotion had to match.

But ‘Conquest’ simply had too few suitable promotional angles.

Liu Huaqiang in the drama did have a real-life prototype, which might draw some attention—but the matter was too sensitive. Yan Li wanted to profit from hype, not risk trouble.

Stir up rumors with Jiang Shan?

That would be too lowbrow. Not only did Jiang have a family, Yan Li himself didn’t want the hassle.

Yan Li fell into silent thought, then his eyes fell on an article in the newspaper—‘New Year Jin Yong Drama “The Legend of the Condor Heroes” Divides Criticisms, Actor Performances Questioned.’

‘...At the Beijing screening in January, producer Zhang Jizhong heard nothing but praise... But after its premiere on Shandong TV and other regional stations on the second day of the Lunar New Year, the drama sparked controversy.’

‘One journalist noted that although Zhou Xun is beautiful and petite, the hoarse, coarse voice emerging from her lips clashed entirely with the image of Huang Rong as charming and lively.’

‘Li Yapeng portrayed Guo Jing’s naivety well, but lacked the aura and dignity of a true hero.’

‘...’

Yan Li read the article carefully, then pulled out his laptop, logged online, and checked netizens’ comments.

Criticism outweighed praise; costume, makeup, and theme song received relative approval, while the male and female leads, Li and Zhou, became the main targets.

Especially Li Yapeng—he was furiously condemned by Jin Yong fans for ruining Linghu Chong and now Guo Jing; he was branded the greatest villain in wuxia drama history.

Yan Li’s smile slowly brightened. He didn’t care whether Li Yapeng was criticized—he cared that he’d spotted a famous, easy-to-pick-on “soft target.”

Zhang Dahuizi had exploited so many popular young stars—it was time someone exploited him back...

(End of Chapter)