Huayu: From charlatan to great entertainer

Chapter 608 Director Liu Establishes Authority in New Position (Thanks to the patron [My Son is Erdan] for joining the alliance)
November 11, 2010, is destined to become a watershed moment in the history of Chinese internet and film industries, leaving a deep imprint on the annals of mainland business.

The several major events that occurred on this day, though independent of each other, collectively defined a turning point in an era.

After experiencing a series of major public opinion crises, the penguin benefited from Wenjie's skillful handling of the situation and managed to pull itself out of the mire.

The leader, after much painful reflection, while appreciating the grand vision and scale of the industry, has begun a difficult shift from past practices of isolation, imitation, and internal competition to openness, symbiosis, and ecosystem co-construction. This is a declaration of self-revolution for a giant.

Wanda became the third company to respond to the negative list proposed by industry leaders, but Wang Sicong's return also clearly conveyed good news to Wang Jianlin, good news that might even surprise Mr. Lu.

Their goal seems to be not entirely, or not only, AMC.

However, what profoundly altered the course of history and truly gave this day its milestone significance was the unprecedented and unparalleled regional cultural war that swept across the world.

Lu Kuan, led by Wen Jie, successfully countered the situation by proactively closing and suspending operations of more than 80 of its cinemas in a certain region, thus inflicting heavy losses and deterring the industry.

The significance of this cultural war goes far beyond defeating an opponent; it has reshaped the rules and order of the entire Chinese-language film and cultural industry from a certain perspective.

From then on, the Golden Horse Awards were fundamentally removed from the "Greater China" market and cultural context upon which it depended for survival, and were completely marginalized into a regional award. Its influence and authority plummeted, and it could no longer represent the highest hall of Chinese-language cinema.

As long as Wenjie and Lukuan's strength and prestige remain, this film culture platform, with nearly 50 years of history, which has completely degenerated from the highest hall of Chinese-language films to a tool of chlorine frogs, will only watch helplessly as it gradually bleeds away until it dies.

The person who brought about all these changes, like his key figure Lu Kuan, has just turned thirty.

What will the future hold for the world of questions? Where does its future lie? Nobody knows.

However, it is foreseeable that this already formed cultural aircraft carrier will continue to integrate content, technology and channels, extending its influence from film to a broader pan-entertainment field, forming a self-circulating and ever-expanding ecological galaxy.

Its scale and power may far exceed today's imagination, becoming a true behemoth covering all aspects of Chinese-speaking world and global entertainment and cultural life, defining industry standards.

Putting aside other things, Netflix, which in the future world's entertainment and cultural companies has surpassed Disney in market value and taken the top spot, is now in the hands of the time traveler and has only just begun to gain momentum with its self-produced series "The Book of Peace" and "House of Cards".

In contrast, the fate of the Golden Horse Awards is already sealed.

It's like an old ship that's had its ballast drained and its largest sails gone, now just spinning in a shrinking harbor.

As the new order dominated by the industry becomes increasingly consolidated, all filmmakers, capital, and works that do not want to perish with it will completely sever ties with it.

It will watch helplessly as the starlight that made it famous gradually dims, sponsors withdraw, attention drops to zero, and it eventually falls from the altar of "the highest hall of Chinese-language films," becoming a self-entertaining circle, until it quietly sinks into oblivion, becoming a regrettable footnote in history textbooks.

As for artists with serious political stances who make no attempt to conceal them, or those who are two-faced, whether they have already been exposed or will appear in Hong Kong in more than three years, they should start to weigh their own worth.

They could either completely withdraw from the Chinese-language film and entertainment industry, or perhaps hide in some corner of Greater China and grumble a bit, like Huang Qiusheng who has already retired from the industry;
Either keep a low profile and pretend to be a professional with the correct stance, no matter what you think in your heart.

This has served as a strong deterrent to many artists with ulterior motives who are prepared to make a living by being shameless, and has even indirectly driven industry change.

It is said that recent auditions and contract signings for production crews have included clauses on stance issues. If an artist's "toxic actions" lead to incalculable consequences, the production crew has the right to take all measures, including seeking compensation, to hold the artist accountable.

This presents a historic opportunity for the Beiping Film Festival, which is set to hold its inaugural edition in 2011.

With the momentum that Wenjie has spared no expense in building, the Beijing International Film Festival can quickly fill the vacuum of award power left by the withdrawal of the Golden Horse Awards, and rise to become the undisputed new benchmark, new center and main channel for international exchange in the Chinese film industry.

It brings together the best resources, top-notch films, and most influential Chinese filmmakers, and will become a core platform showcasing China's cultural confidence and industrial strength in the film industry.

Once the Beijing International Film Festival rises to become a major film trading market in Asia or even the world within five or ten years, and doesn't even need to be an arts center, it will be a leap forward in another dimension of evaluation for the city.

The 2008 Olympics were only held once, so only a limited number of people could see Beiping. But what about the film festival, which is held every year and brings together stars from all over the world?

It will completely shed its single image as an "ancient imperial capital" or "political center" and transform into a global creative capital where tradition and modernity intertwine, and where heritage and vitality coexist.

Just as Paris is to fashion and Milan to design, Beijing will become an indispensable stop on the world's film culture calendar, attracting the world's top film talents, capital and creativity to converge and collide here.

The international prestige, high-end tourism, and creative industry agglomeration effect brought by this title of cultural capital will far surpass that of any sporting event, becoming a powerful core driving the city's sustainable development.

This was also an extremely successful "charm offensive" for China's global image.

A successful, open, and professional Beijing International Film Festival will become the most vivid testament to China's peaceful development, cultural confidence, and active participation in global governance.

It will showcase an inclusive, modern, and culturally creative China to the world, effectively softening external anxieties and stereotypes stemming from China's economic rise.

Through film, a universal language, Chinese stories and values ​​can reach people around the world more gently and effectively, fundamentally enhancing the country's cultural affinity and voice.

At that time, no one will forget that he brought all of this to fruition.

This cultural war seems to have entered a halftime break, but even if the cultural authorities of the region and the outside world cease their actions, the afterglow of this raging wildfire is still intense enough.

On November 15th, another news item was being enthusiastically reposted on Weibo.

On the streets of a certain overseas region, the early winter chill did not silence the nearly two thousand local employees of the Wenjie Jiahe Cinema and their families, holding up signs that read "I want to work! I want to eat!", "Zhengzhi suppresses, the people pay the price!", and "Refuse unemployment, survival is not a crime!", and gathered in front of the building of the department in charge of cultural affairs, their emotions running high.

This scene is not uncommon in the local social movement ecosystem.

As with previous years when bananas, pineapples, and other agricultural products have become unsaleable for various reasons, protests and marches have occurred, which is not uncommon overseas.

However, the trigger for this protest was directly the deliberate suppression of the cultural sector by the authorities, and the core demands of the protest were clear and sharp:
It was their reckless actions that angered giants like Wenjie, leading the latter to prepare to shut down more than 80 cinemas in the area, which would directly cause more than 1800 families to lose their source of income instantly.

The employees roared, "We don't want any of that damn gold or silver, we just want a job to support our families!"

What's even more frustrating for the local cultural authorities is the sheer shamelessness of Wenjie:
On the one hand, the organization's legal team has filed a series of administrative lawsuits on grounds of "administrative obstruction," using the lengthy local judicial process to delay and restrain;
On the other hand, it adopted a passive operating attitude of "non-violent non-cooperation" towards more than 80 cinemas.

Without investing in new film sources or carrying out necessary maintenance, and only maintaining the bare minimum of operation, it is like more than 80 decaying "cultural sores" scattered throughout the island. It can neither generate tax revenue nor employment, and has become living evidence of the authorities' incompetence in governance and damage to people's livelihoods, continuously stinging the public's nerves.

As commented by influential Weibo users in China:

This "fighting the lawsuit while remaining in a limbo" situation puts the other party in a dilemma.

If the authorities forcibly take over or force the company to shut down completely, it will confirm the accusations of persecution by Zhengzhi and further intensify public resentment.
If left unattended, these increasingly dilapidated cinemas will be like a plaster stuck to one's face that can't be removed, constantly reminding people of the mistakes in decision-making and the resulting consequences.

The move by Wenjie perfectly integrates commercial and political counterattacks into the island's unique social ecology, leaving the opponent in a dilemma.

There's a song that goes something like this:
What should have been a leisurely and effortless affair is now a hurried and frantic scramble.

The Lunar New Year film season officially kicked off on November 18th in mainland China.

Chen Kaige's "The Orphan of Zhao" sounded the first battle cry, grossing around 3200 million yuan on its opening day, far exceeding the previous year's performance.

Just as the Chinese film industry was shifting its focus to the Lunar New Year season and predicting how high the domestic box office, which had already surpassed 10 billion yuan, would soar in the next two months, Po Ma, which had been ridiculed by the entire internet for nearly a month, finally succumbed to the pressure and released an announcement.

After all, you can still throw a tantrum and fight in the parliament and the Legislative Yuan somewhere. Now, the only cultural platform and traditional Chinese-speaking forces in power have been weakened and bankrupted. In addition, the protests of more than 1800 unemployed people have given the other side a sore spot. With the end of the year approaching, how can you be happy?

The reason for choosing this time is that the original opening ceremony was in two days, and now even the dozen or so films that stick to local productions are starting to hesitate.

The Golden Horse Awards at this moment have a somewhat anthropomorphic sense of low-key demeanor and disappointment:

After careful consideration, our Executive Committee has decided to announce that the 53rd Golden Horse Awards Ceremony will be suspended.

Recently, the rapid changes in the external environment and the lack of internal consensus have brought unprecedented challenges to the preparation of the event.

At this critical juncture of industry transformation, we understand that a period of quiet reflection is needed for deep introspection and comprehensive examination.

We will listen extensively to voices from all sectors, strive for excellence in award positioning, mechanism innovation, and future direction, and promise to reunite with all Chinese-language filmmakers in the future with a more solid preparation, a more open mind, and a more professional and inclusive new look, continuing to fulfill our original intention of serving the Chinese-language film industry.

This temporary departure is not for distancing myself, but for a better return.

We earnestly request everyone's understanding and time, and await good news.

"Waiting for you, old man!"

This is the top-ranked comment on Twitter in terms of both replies and likes, all committed by enthusiastic mainland netizens who are looking forward to their year-end holidays by circumventing the Great Firewall.

Thus, the long-held wish that "Golden Horse Awards are dead" has almost become a fait accompli.

The stark contrast is particularly striking given the current booming Lunar New Year film season in mainland China and the consistently high number of repeated viewings of the first season of "The Book of Peace".

With the Golden Horse Awards' quiet exit and the establishment of a new order dominated by the media, this cultural war that lasted for months has finally come to an end, providing the press and commentary circles with an extremely rich source of material for discussion at the end of the year.

Various media outlets have offered their own summaries and interpretations of the matter from their respective perspectives:
Caijing Magazine's perspective focuses on "the market's fundamentals determining the rules of the game," and its analysis suggests that:

The fundamental reason for the collapse of the Golden Horse Awards was that it lost the support of the huge mainland market, while the victory of the World of the Seas demonstrated the iron law of business that "whoever controls the mainland market controls the world".

This move could not only reshape the investment, distribution, and award system for Chinese-language films, but also indicate that competition in the cultural industry has evolved from products and channels to competition in "ecosystems" and "standards." Through this move, Wenjie has cleared the biggest obstacle to its future development into a massive cultural conglomerate covering the entire industry chain.

Cultural commentaries and intellectual essays such as *New Weekly* explored the "migration of cultural centers and the redefinition of orthodoxy":
The impending rise of the Beijing International Film Festival is not simply a replacement of its position, but rather a symbol of a fundamental reconstruction of the value judgment system of Chinese-language culture.

The past orientation of "art first" and "international integration" has shifted to a new paradigm that places greater emphasis on "local perspective", "cultural confidence" and "national sentiment".

The decline of the Golden Horse Awards marks the end of an era of cultural compradors and fence-sitters, while its successors carry the earnest expectations of constructing a new era of Chinese cultural narrative.

Social media and self-media influencers mostly focus on using memes:
Netizens are enthusiastically creating memes with the phrase "Golden Horse falls, Wenjie eats its fill," digging up and slapping down the public's naive and ignorant comments that were initially pessimistic about Wenjie.

The entire incident was simplified and interpreted as a modern business war drama of "Those who offend our mighty Han, though far away, shall be punished," with Lu Kuan and Wen Jie portrayed as heroes who "brought glory to the country." This narrative greatly satisfied the national pride and emotional catharsis needs of netizens.

Among them, the most professional at piggybacking on others' fame is undoubtedly Lao Hu.

He made a firm and accurate bet on Wenjie at the very beginning of this cultural war, so now he naturally has to give a year-end summary that echoes the beginning.

Although Hu Xijin may be a freeloader, his news perspective and narratives have always been novel and interesting:

In modern warfare in the 21st century, as human civilization has evolved, the forms of conflict have long surpassed the clash of gunpowder and steel.

Globalization and financial integration have given rise to a more sophisticated and far-reaching weapon—financial capital.

It doesn't need an aircraft carrier fleet; it can shake or even collapse an economy without bloodshed simply by shifting capital flows, downgrading credit ratings, or a precise short-selling attack. This is a high-level war based on rules and confidence.

So, when a mainland cultural giant, Wenjie, acts as a private enterprise to confront a regional cultural force, besides the option of force that could cause friction, and given that Wenjie itself does not possess the financial influence of a national sovereignty, is there a third path?

The answer is yes.

In addition to political, military, and financial power, human society is seeing a fourth, increasingly prominent form of power: cultural power.

This power does not stem from the direct threat of guns or money, but is rooted in the shaping and monopolization of narrative ability, value consensus, and aesthetic standards. It is more covert and more enduring.

Therefore, Lao Hu believes that what Wenjie is fighting this time is not a traditional business war or a war of public opinion, but a complete "dimensional reduction attack of cultural power".

Please allow me to use this new concept from Mr. Liu Cixin's novel, which is said to have been inspired by his wonderful performance of the core torch lighting ceremony directed by Lu Kuan at the opening ceremony of the Beijing Olympics (Chapter 457).

This victory heralded the arrival of a new era:
In today's era of globalization and informatization, cultural power, as a form of mobile, accumulative, and operational strategic capital, is a force to be reckoned with.

Whoever controls the pricing power and circulation rules of cultural capital will be invincible in future competition.

……

The popularity of a landmark event always sparks long-running discussions, but the protagonist himself may have already extricated himself from the event.

These outdated items discarded by history are not worth a second glance; he has more important things to accomplish during this rare "period of settling down."

For example, the Chinese adaptation of the script for "The Shape of Water" and the filming preparations before the official start of filming in the middle of next year, as well as the attention and guidance given to Guo Fan's "The Wandering Earth" and Ning Hao's "The Rural Teacher".

For example, his teaching duties at Beijing Film Academy and Pan-Asia Film Academy are his main work after returning to campus, just like countless masters, although the academic pressure is not great.

For example, Zhijie Video, which was the first subsidiary of Wenjie to go public in December, and Wenjie Mall, which spun off its payment platform, are essentially hands-off operations. They mainly provide personal brand enhancements to the subsidiaries that are about to go public.

On November 22nd, the second season of "The Book of Peace: The Great Wind," a historical epic, officially wrapped up filming in Hengdian. Lu Kuan and his family leisurely returned to Wenyuhe Prefecture from the Hengdian Palace.

Due to the unprecedented success of the first season, countless viewers waiting for the second season have become crazy fans urging for more episodes, and Liu Yifei's Twitter followers have also skyrocketed to more than eight million, despite her previously minimal activity.

During the "Taiping Shu Behind-the-Scenes Salon" hosted by Wenjie and Liu Yan, Liu Yifei, who appeared on the show again, along with Zhang Li, the director of the second season, and others, talked about the filming process and interesting behind-the-scenes stories of this season.

The production team also semi-officially confirmed that, like the first season, the second season will be filmed and produced in post-production simultaneously, and will officially begin airing during the Spring Festival.

Due to the accelerated pace of crew integration and scriptwriting, filming for the third season will begin almost immediately within a week, co-directed by Zhang Li, the director of the second season, and Keishi Ohtomo, the director of the Japanese version.

In a sense, it is based on the work of domestic directors, and through the collision of ideas with directors from other East Asian countries, in order to create a different Three Kingdoms era.

This director, Keishi Ohtomo, is a veteran director of Japanese Taiga dramas. He has directed various historical works in different styles, such as Japanese versions of "Romance of the Three Kingdoms" and "Hideyoshi". However, his most famous work is "Ryoma Den", which tells the story of Ryuichi Sakamoto, a famous activist during the Meiji Restoration period in Japan.

In addition, he also directed the historical film adaptation of the manga "Rurouni Kenshin".

The news of co-directing revealed by Zhang Li during the program sparked heated discussions online, with both supporters and opponents. The general director, Zheng Xiaolong, offered a brief explanation on Weibo:

For the work itself, this is an aesthetic collision of historical narratives. Zhang Li ensures the orthodoxy and gravitas of Central Plains history, while Keishi Ohtomo brings the dramatic tension, nuanced character portrayals, and compassionate perspective on individual fates in a chaotic world, characteristic of Taiga dramas. The combination of the two aims to create a "Three Kingdoms" epic that is both grand in scope and full of human warmth, thus elevating the artistic level.

For international promotion, by leveraging Keishi Ohtomo's reputation and production experience in the Japanese and Asian historical and cultural spheres, the dissemination of "The Book of Peace" in the Japanese, Korean, and Southeast Asian markets can reduce cultural barriers, giving the work an inherent international quality and establishing a new model for the global dissemination of Wenjie Culture.

Most importantly, "The Book of Peace" is a work aimed at a global audience, and it needs foreign directors like Ohtomo to provide an international perspective, that is, what the tastes of foreign audiences are. This helps to turn the historical narrative dominated by local directors into cultural material that is easy to spread.

However, most netizens still have a high level of trust in Wenjie's professional capabilities, and their biggest concern is the filming and release date of the third season.

This season will wrap up before the Spring Festival, filming the winter scenes from the Three Kingdoms to the Wei and Jin Dynasties. There are so many stories in this period of history that take place "around winter":

In the winter of the twelfth year of Jian'an, Liu Bei braved the wind and snow. After two unsuccessful attempts, he stood outside the thatched hut for the third time, snowflakes covering his shoulders. His sincerity finally moved Zhuge Liang to come out of seclusion, and the strategic blueprint of the Longzhong Plan was born in the bleak winter.
In the winter of the thirteenth year of Jian'an, on the eve of the decisive battle at Red Cliff, Cao Cao's army held a grand banquet at the naval camp. When Cao Cao was drunk, he held a long spear, stood at the bow of the boat, and recited the poem "Short Song Ballad" with the lines "Facing the wine, let us sing, how short is life."
Or perhaps it was around 400 AD, in the winter, that the scholar Wang Huizhi (Ziyou) was inspired to visit his friend Dai Kui on a snowy night by taking a small boat. However, upon arriving at the door, he turned back without entering, saying, "I went on a whim, and returned when the whim was over."

This scene perfectly embodies the free spirit and elegance of the Wei and Jin scholars. The image of boating on a snowy night is of great aesthetic value and serves as a small Easter egg showcasing the humanistic aspects of life, in addition to the main storyline designed by the writers of the third season.

Meanwhile, Bao Guoan, who played Lao San's father in "Under the Hawthorn Tree," also appeared on this episode of the interview program. He chatted with Xiao Liu about the interesting things that happened during the filming of the movie two years ago, and also officially announced that he will "still aspire to gallop a thousand miles even in old age" and play Cao Cao again in twenty years, but in a middle-aged or elderly version.

On November 23, during a break from filming, Xiao Liu came to the Beijing People's Art Theatre alone.

Previously, I was just an actor on the side, and I could come or not at will. Now that I'm a cadre, I have to do some necessary work.

However, with Feng Yuanzheng, the team leader, in charge of the overall situation, she can still minimize her time spent on administrative affairs. In the future, unless there are special matters, she can attend meetings when necessary, or devote herself to a certain work when she wants.

For example, in the play "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" that is currently being rehearsed, Lucy has always been one of her favorite characters.

At the end of November, the atmosphere at the Beijing People's Art Theatre was completely different from the hustle and bustle of the Hengdian film studio, but it was equally filled with a sense of tension and enthusiasm before battle.

The hallway was filled with the faint aroma of coffee mixed with the scent of old books, while the sounds of rehearsals and the director's instructions drifted from the rehearsal hall. With the year drawing to a close, the theater was simultaneously busy with two major tasks:

Firstly, it's a final sprint rehearsal for the upcoming New Year performance season;
Secondly, the annual performance evaluation of actors and the planning of the next year's repertoire have also been put on the agenda.

In the somewhat nostalgic meeting room of the Beijing People's Art Theatre, Zhang Heping personally presided over the work today. He stood up with a smile and said, "Okay, let's first welcome Comrade Xiao Liu back to the team with warm applause and let him participate in the management of the performance team."

"Thank you, Dean Zhang, thank you everyone." Today, Liu Yifei followed her husband's example and wore a black suit and black-rimmed glasses, mainly to look younger.

However, her face is still there, so it can't be improved much. She still looks alright, right?

The youngest person present today, besides her, was 48-year-old Feng Yuanzheng. A 23-year-old girl sitting among a group of middle-aged men and women and old guys was quite an eyesore at first glance.

Many mid-level managers and veteran actors at the People's Art Theatre have expressed their dissatisfaction.

However, from the perspective of the core leadership of Beijing People's Art Theatre, this actress did indeed bring the theater the market benefits it needed most after the transformation led by Zhang Heping.

From the authorized adaptation of the play "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" to the sky-high ticket prices driven by Liu Yifei's fans during the previous Cao Yu birthday tour, or the fame and attention she herself brings to the theater.

From a business perspective, this "vice-captain" deal is not a loss;
On the other hand, although she is young, Liu Yifei has a high reputation for dedication and hard work in the industry. In addition, her acting skills and awards are often overlooked because of her age, so the position of vice captain of the actors' team is very appropriate.

The 23-year-old Berlin Film Festival Best Actress winner has achieved a grand slam of domestic awards, including the Golden Rooster, Hundred Flowers, and Huabiao Awards. She won the Hundred Flowers Award for "A Home Away From Home," and the rest were won by "The Sky of History," which swept the national awards two years ago. This resume is convincing enough.

If we also consider next year's Magnolia Awards and other television drama awards, it would probably make many of the veteran artists present today feel quite emotional.

Today was her first meeting since taking office. The meeting room was filled with people, from the core management of the Beijing People's Art Theatre to many senior actors and middle-level administrative cadres. The veterans sitting in the front row took into consideration Xiao Liu's age and the recent rumors and atmosphere in the theatre, and took the initiative to reduce her stress.

Ren Ming, the vice president of the Beijing People's Art Theatre, who is old enough to be Liu's grandfather, and is also the most prestigious senior director currently employed by the theatre, joked: "It feels like Director Zhang found us an excellent vice captain, which has lowered the average age of the team quite a bit."

A soft laugh filled the meeting room. Pu Cunxin had talked with Liu Yifei quite a bit before, and his words were very amiable: "Indeed, times have changed. The market-oriented transformation that Director Zhang led us to achieve has begun to show results, but I think there is still room for innovation in the management of the actors' team."

He smiled and looked at Liu Yifei: "Yifei is now the director of the Youth Workers Committee of the Beiping Federation of Literary and Art Circles, and there are many young people in the Beijing People's Art Theatre's acting troupe. She has a lot of potential!"

Zhang Heping nodded, looking at the many middle-aged and elderly comrades in the first and second rows and those who could only sit in chairs, and knew exactly what they were thinking.

Such is the way of the world; no matter how outstanding you are at Dongda University, age is always an insurmountable hurdle.

Imagine a cast of actors, many in their fifties and sixties, who have been stuck in a rut, now being bossed around by a young girl who's about the same age as their own daughter.

Of course, it was their perception of being bossy and domineering that stemmed from their own sense of imbalance and resentment.

For example, Xu Fan, a veteran present today, no longer has any doubts about Liu Yifei's professional abilities because of her husband's messy affairs, but that's a different matter from being a leader.

But everyone remained outwardly calm, their demeanor suggesting they were looking for trouble, regardless of the other person's background.
Zhang Heping, the dean who currently holds great power, and Lu Kuan are also colleagues of the Beijing Organizing Committee for the Olympic Games. In the context of such a world-renowned cultural project, it would not be an exaggeration to call them close comrades-in-arms.

So all we can do is silently observe her behavior and style to see if she's just a figurehead or a stepping stone. If she's just here to occupy a position and use it as a stepping stone, then the older guys with more seniority will inevitably say something sarcastic.

Feng Yuanzheng, who had been the captain of the actors' troupe for several years, was no longer so "pure" and, for obvious reasons, took the initiative to propose:
"Dean, leaders, there was a motion within our acting team, proposed by Yi Fei. I'd like to take this opportunity during the pre-holiday meeting to discuss it."

Zhang Heping naturally knew what he was planning. "Alright, then let the actors' team report first."

Xiao Liu knew that being a division chief wasn't something he could just hold in name only, so he made some preparations before coming.

She knew that her age would be a topic of gossip behind her back at both the Beiping Federation of Literary and Art Circles and the Beijing People's Art Theatre, but she didn't care much and just wanted to do her job well.

When it comes to age-related controversies, Lu Kuan was not yet 25 years old when he was appointed as the chief director of the Olympics, and he faced much more pressure than she did.

Humans are social animals. In this life, her fate has changed drastically. She was forced to become a "virgin" in a way that was not her choice. But this was a new experience for both a young actress and the wife of a billionaire.

As an actress, this new social role allows her to have more experiences, just like Li Xuejian, Chen Daoming and others who have maintained social positions for a long time;

As the wife of the richest man, she may need some additional titles to enrich her image or to be part of her husband's future plans.

Therefore, she was quite happy with both titles and jobs, and had a rather interesting feeling of experiencing life from the perspective of an actor.

Director Liu adjusted his glasses, his tone calm but his logic clear:

“I am currently responsible for the work of young artists on both sides. The main pain point is that traditional theaters like Beijing People’s Art Theatre and some traditional art works receive too little attention because the income gap with the entertainment industry under market conditions is too large, and the loss of young talents is very serious.”

She paused, looked around the room, and said, "Therefore, my proposal also stems from this point of thought. Please feel free to offer your criticisms and suggestions."

“In the past two years, I have been directing plays at the Beijing People’s Art Theatre and also filming TV dramas at Wenjie. In particular, there are many actors from the Beijing People’s Art Theatre and the National Theatre of China in the play ‘The Book of Peace’. I deeply feel that it’s not that young people don’t love plays or don’t want to come back, but that the pressure of reality is too great.”

"The salary for a few months in a film outside can be equivalent to several years' income in a theater. It is becoming increasingly difficult for most young actors to retain talent simply by relying on dedication and passion."

The meeting room fell silent, and the veteran artists nodded slightly. This was precisely the problem that worried them the most, yet they couldn't solve it. Only Zhang Heping's reforms over the past two years had yielded some results.

"Therefore, my idea is that we cannot just block, but also need to guide. We need to transform the opposition between the inside and outside of the compound into a cycle of mutual complementarity."

“First, we should establish project-based studios.” Liu Yifei proposed a bold idea: “Could the theater encourage, or even take the lead, to establish small project-based studios with a few of us actors who have a certain market recognition as the core? The KPI of the studios is not how many performances of ‘Teahouse’ have been staged, but how to develop and produce a new play with commercial potential for the People’s Art Theatre every year.”

"For example, some chapters of the Taiping Book that are suitable for the stage can be adapted into plays, using the influence of film and television dramas to support the stage. The performance revenue can be split between the theater and the studio. In this way, young actors can also obtain market-competitive returns when performing in theaters, instead of just relying on a fixed salary."

Well, this first one has already caused a major problem!

The meeting room immediately erupted in discussion. Regardless of the young people, the most vocal opinions came from the veteran director and actors.

"How can this be allowed? Is this still the Beijing People's Art Theatre?"

"No, no! If we can't control things artistically, and everything is dictated by the market, then the rules will be unsustainable."

As expected, Xiao Liu heard the objections, some of which were stubborn and unyielding, while others were simply opposing for the sake of opposing.

She didn't mind, paused for a moment and continued, "The second is to utilize internet platforms and resources to conduct more market-oriented training and output."

“I’ve communicated with Zhijie Video. Do you think we could create a high-definition on-demand channel and account for ‘Classic Dramas’ or ‘Live Drama’, owned by the academy?”

“We can selectively put high-definition recordings of classic and newly created plays from the Beijing People’s Art Theatre on this platform for pay-per-view. The revenue from this can be used to establish a special fund to subsidize young actors participating in the rehearsals of the theatre’s key plays, or as start-up capital for their projects. At the same time, we can also give priority to recommending promising young actors with time to participate in some of the theatre’s commissioned plays and anthology plays, increasing their exposure and income.”

Xu Fan couldn't hold back any longer, but his intentions were still based on public interest: "Yi Fei, I fully support the first point, but the second point is really a bit inappropriate."

"The charm of a play lies in the moment itself, in the breath the actors exhale, in the sweat on their faces under the lights, and in the audience holding their breath and feeling their hearts beat along with the plot. This is something that no high-definition video recording can take away."

“We record the plays and put them online, which is convenient for the audience, but in the long run, who will still be willing to buy tickets to go to the theater to experience this kind of living, one-time art? Isn’t this like drinking poison to quench thirst? For the sake of short-term dissemination and a little income, we are actually shaking the very foundation of our theater’s survival.”

“I have considered this issue,” Liu Yifei said seriously. “That’s why I’m referring to young actors in the theater. They need to hone their skills in A/B/C roles for a long time, working hard to gain experience. This process takes five or ten years. I understand that this is a necessary experience to become an excellent actor, but we also have to consider everyone’s livelihood, right?”

"For example, the package price for a very ordinary supporting role in 'The Book of Peace' is around 10 yuan, and the filming period is about three months. Because historical dramas require too many actors, they usually play a main role with 1-2 lines and several other smaller roles with different makeup."

Xiao Liu paused for a moment: "As a third-level actor, my first salary from the Beijing People's Art Theatre was 3700 yuan. You can compare the difference."

The meeting room was completely silent. Some of the younger actors and older ones looked at the lucky few who had acted in "The Book of Peace" with envy and jealousy. How the hell did you guys earn so much?

Money can be a powerful motivator, and the vivid example Director Liu presented certainly makes one ponder.

Xu Fan slowly shook his head: "It's not that I'm talking without understanding the situation, but... but I always feel it's inappropriate. This is a subversion of the Beijing People's Art Theatre's model."

“Even the best things need to be known by someone.” Liu Yifei smiled. “Our online streaming service is definitely not about replacing the original in the theater with a replica on the screen. On the contrary, our goal is to use the online window and trailers to attract more people to the offline experience.”

"I am in charge of the work of young literary and artistic workers, and I think this is a strong incentive for them."

“The Beijing People’s Art Theatre is in Beiping, but there are 1.4 billion people in the country. Many young people, especially audiences in second- and third-tier cities, may have heard that “Teahouse” and “Thunderstorm” are classics, but they may never have the opportunity to come to Beiping and see a performance at the Beijing People’s Art Theatre in their lifetime.”

"By recording in high definition, we let them have a 'dabbling' first, to appreciate the charm of the classics and inspire their desire to experience them in person. It's like how museums create high-definition digital exhibitions of their treasures, not to discourage people from visiting in person, but to stimulate a stronger desire to visit in person."

Xu Fan scoffed: "Are you going to rely on tourists to buy tickets for the Beijing People's Art Theatre? This is the first time I've ever heard of such a thing."

Zhang Heping frowned, but seeing Liu Yifei's slightly somber expression and her glance at Xu Fan, he remained silent for the time being.

That expression... is somewhat similar to her husband's.

She should establish her own authority.

The current situation is actually somewhat similar to that of the Olympic creative team back then.

They all revolve around art and the show, and they argue every two days for a small argument and every three days for a big one.

Is it all for the public good? Not entirely when Lu Kuan first took office as the chief director. Zhang Jigang and Chen Weiya, two artists with military ranks, were quite troublesome.

However, it would be biased to say that they were all acting out of self-interest and deliberate attempts to cause trouble or retaliate.

This is the complexity of semi-institutional, semi-artistic work units like the Beijing People's Art Theatre and the China Federation of Literary and Art Circles.

Xiao Liu had only briefly wielded the imperial sword to fight corruption in the past, and Yang Siwei was in charge of managing her studio. But even if she were just acting, she could play the role well, not to mention that she has her husband in real life as the best reference.

His methods for becoming the chief director of the Olympics, the president of Wenjie, and a tyrant on a film set can all serve as a reference.

“Professor Xu Fan, you have no right to speak without investigation. I welcome everyone to raise questions about me, but not these kinds of unfounded complaints.”

Xu Fan was taken aback by her sudden coldness. He was about to retort when Liu Yifei interrupted him, his Beijing accent about to spill out:
"The two most profitable stages in Beijing right now are Benshan Grand Stage and Deyun Club. Their average annual box office is as high as 1 to 2 million yuan. They have even signed agreements with many tour groups as part of the tourism experience for tourists from other places visiting Beijing."

“Everyone has been a tourist. Tourism has multiple attributes and fulfilling meanings, and showing off is definitely one of them. Especially now that Weibo and WeChat are so developed, being able to come to the Beijing People’s Art Theatre to see a play can become a form of social currency for young people, and online marketing is the key to that.”

Social currency, commonly known as "show-off material," is one such example, which emerged in 2025. In this era, taking a photo at the Beijing People's Art Theatre is almost as prestigious as attending a concert.

"Located in the capital, the Beijing People's Art Theatre attracts hundreds of millions of Chinese and foreign tourists every year. What do they come to see? Besides the Forbidden City and the Great Wall, they also yearn to experience the most authentic Beijing culture. The theatre's productions of 'Teahouse' and 'Thunderstorm' are living, high-level representatives of Beijing culture, flowing with the history of Beiping!"

"Our problem isn't artistic talent; we're sitting on a golden rice bowl, starving. How can we get more people to know us, find us, and be willing to come in?"

As she was speaking, she suddenly turned to Xu Fan and said, "Teacher Xu, I'm sorry for interrupting you. Now, please give your opinion so I can learn from it."

"I..." The sudden change in rhythm made Xu Fan, who had been listening intently, pause again.

She looked up and felt the gazes from Pu Cunxin, Zhang Heping, and even the old director Ren Ming, who valued her the most, and realized that she had just lost her composure.

Although no one spoke up out of consideration for her status as a first-class actress and her seniority, it was still somewhat unfair and inappropriate.

Xu Fan quickly composed himself, sat up straight, and said, "I have no objections. Please continue, Deputy Captain Liu."

Liu Yifei subtly shifted her gaze away from her, "My third suggestion is to strengthen the system of business files and understudies."

"I suggest creating a detailed electronic business file for every young actor under 40 in the theater, recording not only their performances in the theater, but also their performances, strengths, and even training needs in the film and television industry. This file should be open to all directors in the theater as an important reference for casting."

"At the same time, we will enforce the 'A/B' or even 'A/B/C' system for key productions to ensure that the theater's performances are not affected by the lead actors' film and television commitments. On the contrary, film and television offers can become an opportunity to cultivate lead actors. We want young actors to feel that they have a promising future and income at the Beijing People's Art Theatre, rather than being tied down."

"support!"

"That's a great idea!"

The two people speaking are Wang Lei, who starred in the first season of "The Book of Peace," and Gu Zhixin, who gained some popularity three years ago with "The Young Pioneers."

However, the rigid system of the Beijing People's Art Theatre still poses some constraints for them.

While the first two points were considered from the perspective of the Beijing People's Art Theatre's marketization, the last point was purely for the benefit of young actors, instantly eliciting recognition and support from the young actors present.

That's why positions like the Youth League Committee and the Youth Workers Committee are where it's easy to achieve good results.
Young people don't have many opportunities within the system, but they are very ambitious. Once they have an opportunity, they are eager to seize it. However, positions like Director Liu usually provide them with opportunities, so it goes without saying that they can gather a group of supporters.

Liu Yifei concluded, "My ideas may be a bit idealistic, but the core idea is to build the Beijing People's Art Theatre into a powerful platform and brand endorsement, rather than a closed system."

"I hope that young actors can be proud to act here, and at the same time, they can realize their value in a broader market through this platform. They go out to make their way in the world, and come back with fame and connections to give back to the theater, forming a virtuous cycle."

“I am willing to use some of my resources in the industry to try out one or two such pilot studios.” She stood up gracefully and nodded to the audience: “Please give me your criticism and suggestions, Dean Zhang, and all the leaders and colleagues.”

"Clap clap clap!"

A burst of applause, a rhythm rarely heard within the system, filled the meeting room. It was rhythmless, but brimming with the approval of the younger generation and the appreciation of some of the older comrades.

What is the pace of life like within the system?
It was a reserved and restrained clapping, with a clear sense of probing and observation, as if everyone was carefully controlling the strength and duration of their clapping, which might only suddenly turn into a torrent of applause after Zhang Heping stood up.

However, on his first day in office, Director Liu and Captain Liu still won the approval of most people thanks to their hard work and sincere attitude.

As for the few die-hards and red-eyed monsters, there's no need to look at them or pay them any attention; they're the kind of people you can't find anywhere.

After the applause subsided, Zhang Heping looked at Xiao Liu with approval: "Comrade Yi Fei's report included research, data, and case studies. More importantly, it demonstrated a vision and commitment to the long-term development of the theater and the growth of young actors!"

"This is not wishful thinking, but a feasible path that combines the laws of art with the rules of the market."

He immediately approved the plan, saying, "I agree to this plan in principle. The actors' troupe, together with the Arts Department and the Performance Center, should come up with detailed implementation rules within a week. We will use the stage version of 'The Curious Case of Benjamin Button' as the first project-based studio pilot project. We will launch one as soon as it is ready!"

The meeting then efficiently reviewed the routine agenda, including year-end performance evaluations and the schedule for the New Year's performance season. An hour later, Zhang Heping adjourned the meeting.

"That was a great performance!" Feng Yuanzheng and his golden partner Xiao Liu walked out with smiles, giving a thumbs-up in praise.

Liu Yifei covered her mouth and chuckled, keeping a low profile in the corridor: "Haha! It's my first time experiencing this kind of occasion, it's quite interesting!"

"Teacher Feng, are you coming to my house for lunch later? We're planning to have hot pot at home for lunch. My husband just texted me saying everything is ready."

Feng Yuanzheng hadn't seen Lu Kuan for a while, and, following the crowd, remarked, "Hot pot is good!! This weather..."

"Yi Fei! Yuan Zheng, wait a moment!" The two turned around and saw Zhang Heping catching up from behind.

"Young people are so quick on their feet! I've only signed two words and you're already almost out the door!"

Feng Yuanzheng teased, "We're planning to go to the richest man's house for a free meal, Dean, don't give us another last-minute assignment, will you?"

"Look at you, so full of yourself!" Zhang Heping joked, then looked at Xiao Liu, "Yifei, there's something I really can't refuse to tell you, so I've thought about it and decided to tell you anyway."

Xiao Liu nodded: "Please go ahead."

"Should I excuse myself?" Feng Yuanzheng asked with a smile.

"It's not a state secret, just stay put!" Zhang Heping waved his hand. "A leader asked me to mention it to you first, but you have to think about it yourself."

"Besides, even if I didn't say it, when you go to the meeting of the Beiping Federation of Literary and Art Circles in a couple of days, someone will talk to you about it."

Feng Yuanzheng scoffed: "No, go ahead and say it! Are you telling a joke?"

"Why are you so anxious if the emperor isn't?" Zhang Heping said with a laugh, then turned serious and said, "Consort Yi, how about considering participating in this year's Spring Festival Gala?"

"what?"

(End of this chapter)