Back to 17, My Brother is the Cult Leader

On the third day after Fang Yuan arrived in Shanghai, he met up with Li Hong for dinner.

Also present was Mr. Zhu, the general manager of Shanghai Film Studio.

The restaurant Li Hong chose was a local Shanghainese restaurant on Julu Road, which she said had authentic flavors, a quiet environment, and no waiting time.

When Fang Yuan arrived, the two were already seated inside. There was a dish of seaweed and peanuts on the table, and Li Hong was flipping through the menu.

"You're here?" Li Hong looked up at him, but didn't get up. She simply gestured for him to sit down.

"Please have a seat, I'm ordering. Do you have any dietary restrictions?"

"No." Fang Yuan put down his backpack and sat down. "Just keep an eye on things."

Li Hong ordered two more dishes, returned the menu to the waiter, and then poured Fang Yuan a cup of tea.

Mr. Zhu sat opposite me, wearing a gray jacket with the collar slightly open, looking like he had just come from the factory.

"Have you seen the box office figures for 'First Love'?" Li Hong picked up her teacup, speaking casually as if discussing something very ordinary.

"Alright, I know the box office was great, it's all thanks to the great director," Fang Yuan said with a smile.

"Haha, not at all, everyone deserves credit."

"As of last week, the national box office reached 38 million."

General Manager Zhu was all smiles.

"It's still being screened on a small scale, but it should easily reach over 4,000 viewers in the end."

Fang Yuan nodded.

This figure was quite impressive in the domestic film market in 1999.

In recent years, the Chinese film market has been sluggish overall, with the total annual box office revenue barely exceeding one billion yuan. For a medium-budget art-house drama to achieve this result, both the producers and distributors are satisfied.

"The publicity was well done," Fang Yuan said.

"Publicity is one aspect."

"The key is that the script is good, the director is capable, the actors are well-chosen, and most importantly, your many book fans also played a big role."

Mr. Zhu said with a smile,

"Of all the projects produced by Shanghai Film Studio in recent years, your scripts have been the most profitable."

"Back to 20" hasn't been released yet, so it's hard to say, but the internal test screening feedback is quite good.

The waiter started serving the dishes. Braised pork belly, stir-fried seasonal vegetables, cold black fungus salad, and a bowl of hot and sour soup were all home-style dishes.

Li Hong picked up a piece of wood ear fungus with her chopsticks and chewed it twice.

"The release date for 'Back to 10' is set for October 1st," she said.

"It will be released simultaneously nationwide during the National Day holiday. The publicity campaign has already begun, with advertisements in subway cars, TV trailers, and newspaper articles—we've covered every possible channel. Mr. Zhu is keeping a close eye on it."

General Manager Zhu waved his hand.

"It's not that I'm keeping a close eye on things, it's just that the factory has very heavy targets to meet this year."

There weren't many decent films released in the first half of the year, so we'll have to wait and see what these two come out in the second half.

"First Love" has already delivered a decent performance; if "Back to 20" also does well at the box office, then this year's mission will be accomplished."

"I think it's fine. These two films should have a market in Japan, South Korea, and Southeast Asia, so the copyright price shouldn't be bad."

Fang Yuan ate his food quietly, listening to them talk.

Since he started working on projects in Hollywood, his relationship with his domestic partners has become quite delicate.

He was still nominally a student at the Central Academy of Drama, but in the eyes of these people at the Shanghai Film Studio, he was no longer a newcomer who needed to be mentored.

The box office figures for "First Love" and its success in the top three European films speak for themselves. This is an industry where your work speaks for itself; if what you offer is strong enough, others will treat you with equality.

"Oh, right," Li Hong put down her chopsticks.

"Have you signed contracts for those three Hollywood films?"

"They've all been signed," Fang Yuan said.

"Fox, Columbia, and Focus each hold about 20 percent of the production rights."

Mr. Zhu paused in picking up food, then glanced at Fang Yuan.

He certainly knew that Fang Yuan was negotiating projects with Hollywood, but the figure of 20% of the production rights was clearly beyond his expectations.

"Twenty percent?" General Manager Zhu repeated, "Is that a share of net profits or a share of total revenue?"

"Total revenue is the primary factor, with some projects including clauses that increase box office revenue," Fang Yuan said.

"The specific structure varies from company to company, but the bottom line is the total revenue sharing."

After a few seconds of silence, Mr. Zhu gave a thumbs up and said, "Great job, you're the best!"

"There are so many film studios in the country, but none of them have your approach."

Li Hong added from the side, "His agent deserves a lot of credit."

"Yes, she's the one who's handling everything over there."

After we had almost finished eating, the waiter brought out a fruit platter.

Mr. Zhu forked a piece of watermelon, took a bite, and suddenly remembered something.

"After these projects are completed, do you have any plans?"

"Let's finish this first. There's still one film we haven't shot yet," Fang Yuan said.

"Try to understand Lao Zhang; people in his position have a lot to consider."

After hesitating for a moment, Mr. Zhu still spoke up.

"I'm fine. The project we agreed on before is still going on."

The three of them sat for a while longer, chatting about industry gossip.

When Mr. Zhu talked about the other films released during this year's National Day holiday, his tone carried a seasoned composure.

"I'm not worried about the screening schedule for 'Back to 20'; the key is word-of-mouth."

Nowadays, viewers discuss films online after watching them; you have to understand the internet, even if you don't know it.

Fang Yuan's heart skipped a beat when he heard this, but he didn't reply.

Mr. Zhu glanced at his watch and left.

He has a meeting early tomorrow morning; the factory's audit committee has scheduled several projects for approval, so he needs to go back and prepare the necessary materials.

Fang Yuan and Li Hong sat for a while longer.

"How many days are you staying in Shanghai this time?" Li Hong asked.

"Three or four days. There's an event under the banyan tree, and William Zhu insisted that I attend."

"Zhu William... is that the one who runs the literature website?"

"right."

"I've heard of it," Li Hong said. "He even invited Chen Cun to be his art director; that's quite a big deal."

Fang Yuan nodded.

Li Hong finished the last piece of watermelon, wiped her hands, stood up, and said, "Let's go."

Fang Yuan paid the bill, and the two of them walked out of the restaurant.

The plane trees along Julu Road rustled in the night breeze, and the light from the streetlights shone through the gaps in the leaves, scattering golden fragments on the ground.

Li Hong stood at the door, lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and exhaled a cloud of white smoke.

The smoke dissipated under the streetlights and was quickly dispersed by the wind.

"Filming for 'Flying Colors' will be finished next year," Li Hong suddenly said. "You can still contact me if you have any scripts in the future."

"Of course, I'm counting on Director Li to make money for me."

"Tch, actually, I still need you to make a living,"

Fang Yuan was silent for a moment, then said, "It's not that bad, it's about win-win cooperation."

Li Hong smiled and stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray by the door.

"There's something you need to be careful about. Many people in the industry are watching you. You need to be careful."

"Huh? What's there to watch out for? He's just a student."

"Don't give me that, Old Zhu hinted at it to me, he must have some source of information."

Li Hong walked to the roadside and hailed a taxi. As she opened the car door, she turned around.

"Let me know when you arrive in Beijing."

"it is good."

The taxi merged into the traffic on Julu Road, its taillights casting two red streaks in the night before quickly disappearing in the direction of Huaihai Middle Road.

He looked up at the small patch of sky peeking out above the canopy of the sycamore tree; it was grayish-blue with a few faint stars.