Chapter 89: Li Bingbing: After Flirting with My Sister, Now You

On April 1, the entertainment industry was rocked by a massive scandal: Hong Kong superstar Zhang Guorong jumped to his death.

The news dominated every news outlet; even SARS and the Iraq War had to yield their front-page spots.

The internet was flooded with the event; several forums exploded, spawning countless conspiracy theories and turning into chaotic debates.

Yu Yanli was also deeply shocked and offered a brief moment of mourning, for in a way, he had grown up watching Zhang’s films and listening to his songs.

He then returned to his own affairs.

At the same time, Beijing’s sub-channel rebroadcasted “Conquest” again, with still strong ratings—even Yu Yanli was recognized once while out.

A woman in her forties or fifties stared at him for half a minute, then declared firmly:

“You’re the thug who beat Du Mei.”

Although the woman couldn’t recall Wu Tian’s name, confused Jiang Shan’s character Li Li from “Conquest” with Du Mei from “Just a Taste,” and misremembered the plot details, the scene nearly drew a crowd around Yu Yanli.

But being recognized by an audience for the first time as an actor left Yu Yanli with a satisfying sense of pride.

Not only offline, but as “Conquest” rolled out on multiple local channels, its influence expanded, and a few netizens began noticing his portrayal of Wu Tian.

The most common comment was that Yu Yanli looked good—especially compared to the other tough guys in “Conquest,” he stood out like a crane among chickens.

Another frequent remark was his line to Jiang Shan: “Do you know what you look like right now? Like a whore.”

Actually, this line originally came from “Just a Taste,” where the female lead, played by Jiang Shan, appeared in sexy attire for a date, angering the male lead Wang Zhiwen—“You look like a whore.”

This line was a deliberate inside joke by Lao Gao, who cast Jiang Shan in the role.

Many viewers who had seen “Just a Taste” understood the reference and began mocking it.

The popularity on local channels helped accelerate “Conquest”’s satellite broadcast schedule.

Satellite channel time slots aren’t something you can just book on demand.

The prime time slot from 7:30 to 10:00 PM typically allows only two to three episodes, usually two per night—about sixty episodes a month, equivalent to one or two TV dramas.

Even adding the secondary prime time after ten PM, an average monthly total of three or four dramas is typical, not counting repeats.

So not only is it hard to sell a drama to a satellite channel, but even after selling it, you must wait in line.

Normally, if a drama airs within one or two months of sale, it’s considered smooth; airing after several months is common, and delays of six months or more are not rare.

To move up the queue or jump ahead, you need strong viewership ratings from local channels and significant influence from the drama itself.

If a TV station sees potential in a drama, it may give it preferential treatment—even placing it in a premium slot as an annual flagship project.

“Conquest” performed well, but not quite to flagship status, so it moved up in the queue—but not to the summer slot.

Tianjin Satellite TV had already internally decided to premiere it in May; Hebei’s channel hadn’t confirmed, but likely also in May or June.

Yu Yanli was pleased: this timing coincided with SARS, when everyone stayed home watching TV, greatly boosting ratings.

More importantly, the earlier it aired, the sooner he’d receive the final payment from the TV station.

TV stations typically don’t pay the full amount upfront; payments are divided into three stages: signing, delivery, and broadcast.

【Signing】 is the initial payment or deposit after signing the contract, usually 20–30%.

【Delivery】 is the mid-payment after the station receives the finished drama, ranging from 30% to 50%.

【Broadcast】 is the final payment, settled shortly after the drama ends, typically 20–40%.

Exact shares and timing depend on the contract—each purchase agreement has unique clauses, and both sides can modify terms as needed.

But a contract is just a contract; it may not hold up when it matters most.

Aside from CCTV and a few well-funded first-tier satellite channels, no TV station pays on time.

Settling within half a year is considered respectable; some delay for one or two years, or even leave it unpaid entirely.

Some film and television companies have been literally dragged to death by this.

Whenever this happens, Yu Yanli is deeply grateful for his intelligence network, which helps him assess the character and commercial reliability of TV stations or their officials.

He can’t guarantee zero risk, but it significantly reduces danger and avoids being cheated.

This time, “Conquest” partnered with Tianjin Satellite TV and Hebei Satellite TV.

The former, as a municipality-affiliated station, isn’t a first-tier satellite channel, but has ample funds and pays promptly.

Hebei Satellite TV is poorer and often delays payments, but never for too long, and hasn’t defaulted in recent years.

Such partners, despite flaws, still fall within Yu Yanli’s acceptable range.

As for satellite channels that delay final payments for two or three years—or default entirely—no matter how high the offer, Yu Yanli won’t work with them; he simply can’t bear the stress.

…

“Conquest”’s satellite scheduling went smoothly, and Li Bingbing also brought good news.

She secured the female lead role in “Cell Phone.”

The Li sisters excitedly invited Yu Yanli to dinner to celebrate, and he gladly accepted.

When he arrived, he discovered Wang Jing was also there, enthusiastically chatting with him.

After a while, Wang Jing took a call and stepped out of the private room; Li Xue seized the chance to apologize to Yu Yanli.

“Sorry, my sister let slip that you were here, and Hua-jie insisted on coming over—we couldn’t stop her.”

“I understand.”

Yu Yanli nodded, then teased: “I actually enjoy dining with Hua-jie—she compliments people so beautifully, it makes the food taste better.”

Li Xue laughed: “What do you take Hua-jie for?”

“A life mentor, a respected senior I deeply admire—I love when she praises me; others’ praise doesn’t feel the same.”

Li Xue blinked: “What about when I praise you?”

Yu Yanli paused: “Compared to Hua-jie, you still need practice—you haven’t hit the right spot yet.”

“Cheeky.”

Li Xue laughed and slapped him lightly; Yu Yanli didn’t mind. Nearby, Li Bingbing had been watching their banter, growing restless, and coughed to draw attention.

“Xue’er, sit over here.”

Li Xue hesitated: “I’m better here to host the guest.”

“No need to be so formal—we’re all family.”

Seeing Li Bingbing about to glare, Yu Yanli took Li Xue’s hand and guided her to sit beside Li Bingbing.

Li Bingbing wasn’t satisfied—she switched seats with Li Xue, placing herself between Yu Yanli and her sister, then gave Yu Yanli a warning look before sending him a text message on her phone.

【Don’t even think about my sister.】

Yu Yanli felt wronged—he hadn’t done anything; it was Li Xue who started talking to him.

【I’m innocent.】

Though Yu Yanli explained, Li Bingbing remained wary; her sister was smart, but that didn’t mean she understood men.

Though only two years older, Li Bingbing had spent years in the entertainment industry, encountering countless types of men, and had sharpened her instincts.

This guy, Yu Yanli, was clearly a womanizer!

Being a womanizer alone would be bad enough—but he was also good-looking, charming, articulate, intelligent, and highly capable.

Such men are most appealing to women—and most likely to break their hearts.

Li Bingbing knew her sister’s limits; facing someone like Yu Yanli, she’d be completely consumed and then discarded.

So she had to warn and protect her sister, preventing her from falling for Yu Yanli’s trap and getting her heart and body stolen.

Thus, during the rest of the dinner, Li Bingbing did everything she could to separate her sister from Yu Yanli, minimizing their contact.

Yu Yanli didn’t mind, but Li Xue grew annoyed, thinking her sister was being excessive.

Regardless of other things, Yu Yanli had helped them immensely—Li Bingbing’s thief-like suspicion was heartless.

Wang Jing noticed all this, glancing between the Li sisters, lost in thought.

Was Li Bingbing guarding against Yu Yanli—or against her own sister, Li Xue?

After dinner, Li Bingbing forcibly sent Li Xue to see Wang Jing off, then personally escorted Yu Yanli out.

She apologized for her earlier behavior and reiterated her plea: don’t get too close to her sister.

Yu Yanli nodded: “Don’t worry—I don’t like your sister’s type.”

That sparked Li Bingbing’s curiosity: “Then what type do you like?”

“Someone older, cheerful, with a bold, spirited look—and preferably has a younger sister…”

Before he finished, Li Bingbing kicked him in annoyance: “You’ve already hit on my sister—now you’re flirting with me?”

“I didn’t hit on your sister.”

Li Bingbing paused, then realized: “So you’re just flirting with me, then?”

“If you don’t like it, bring your sister along too.”

“Get lost.”

Watching Yu Yanli leave, Li Bingbing touched her cheek and muttered softly: “Bold, spirited…”

————

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(End of chapter)