Huayu: Starting from retirement, sweeping across the domestic entertainment industry

After a whole night of fermentation, the trending topic not only failed to cool down, but instead became even more popular.

The esports community was completely enraged, and the fire burned far more fiercely than he had anticipated.

His Weibo private messages have exploded, and the comment section has been flooded with messages from fans asking when he will respond or speaking up for him.

He scrolled through the posts that had been pushed to the top, and one of them, which had been forwarded over 100,000 times, was a long post written by a long-time fan whose Weibo ID was "Only Knows How to Play Garen".

Li Ran clicked on the long article and read it word by word.

He recognized this ID; this person had been in his fan group since his first year as a professional player. Every match, this person would post a long analysis, even more detailed than professional commentators, but never used abusive language. Even when they lost, they would only say, "We'll come back next time."

He cursed today, and cursed fiercely.

"I don't object to adapting esports into films and television, but screenwriters should at least understand esports, right? It's not like five people forming a team and playing a few games against five other people constitutes esports."

"‘It's just a loss, right?’ — How ridiculous. In 18 at the Bird's Nest, RNG and SSG went to a fifth game. As an LPL fan, as a fan of @李燃Burn, I so desperately wanted them to pull off a reverse sweep and bring home the first Summoner's Cup for the LPL. If you think about it, wasn't that a loss too? We can always come back stronger next time."

"But that's the Bird's Nest, and it's home to five Chinese people..."

Li Ran's gaze lingered on the four words "five Chinese people".

He remembered that final match more clearly than anyone else. The moment the crystal shattered, the entire stadium was silent for a few seconds, then the cheers of SSG fans erupted from a corner of the stands, like a knife stabbing into the hearts of every LPL viewer.

He stood on the stage, glanced back at the trophy, which was bathed in golden light, seemingly so close yet so far away.

As he glanced back at the trophy, tears welled up in his eyes and streamed down his face.

It wasn't because he lost the game, but because he felt sorry for the people who came from all over the country to the Bird's Nest, the people who held up "RNG Fighting" signs, and the people who kept shouting until their voices were hoarse.

He felt he owed them a championship.

The long article is still ongoing...

"Burn made a comeback in S8, and only Li Ran made it back."

In S8, IG won the championship. He stood on the stage in Incheon, holding the trophy, as golden rain poured down from above.

He paid back what he owed.

But not everyone made it back. For some, their careers ended on that night at the Bird's Nest, and they never had another chance.

"There are even professional players who fix matches and brazenly admit it! Screenwriter, have you ever been to school? Don't you know what's illegal?!"

Li Ran sighed softly upon seeing this.

Match-fixing is a red line in the esports world; it's something you can't touch. If a screenwriter writes it into a script and has a character say it as if it's perfectly normal, they're either stupid or malicious.

"Flowers bloom beautifully for anyone, but a championship is a regret for anyone. That's the beauty and cruelty of esports. You can't understand it just by watching a few matches."

The last few sentences of the long article were screenshotted and forwarded by countless people.

Li Ran stared at the screen for a long time, shook his head, threw away the steamed bun in his hand, and looked at Tian Xiwei, who was still scrolling through Weibo, and said, "Go to the company later."

Seeing that he looked unwell, Tian Xiwei nodded slightly without saying anything more.

In the comments section, some people were crying, some were cursing, and some were reminiscing.

itai's comment was pushed to the top: "It's two minutes, and it negates my eight or nine-year career."

This comment is only one sentence long, but it has already received over 500,000 likes.

Someone replied from below, "You're not alone."

Some people even said, "We are all the same."

……

When Li Ran and Tian Xiwei arrived at Wajijiwa, it was already three o'clock in the afternoon. Sunlight slanted in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, spreading a warm patch of light on the corridor floor.

The office was air-conditioned and the temperature was set very low. Long Danni sat behind her desk with several documents spread out in front of her and a cup of cold coffee next to her.

When she saw the two of them come in, she raised her chin, gesturing for them to sit down.

Tian Xiwei obediently called out "Auntie" and sat down on the sofa. Li Ran, on the other hand, didn't stand on ceremony and threw himself onto the sofa, making a muffled sound as the cushion was pressed down.

Long Danni opened the documents in front of her, her tone as capable as ever. She briefly introduced the schedule for the script reading and filming of "The Legend of Canglan".

The reading session will begin on July 4th, and filming will start on July 28th.

Tian Xiwei listened attentively, nodding occasionally, while Li Ran leaned back on the sofa, relaxed, as if he already knew about these arrangements.

After Long Danni finished speaking, Li Ran brought up the matter of the trending topics on Weibo.

His tone was casual, as if he were talking about something unimportant, but Long Danni could hear the unease in his voice.

"What's it to you?" Long Danni closed the file, leaned back in her chair, and looked at him. "I wasn't cursing you."

Li Ran smiled helplessly, a smile that carried a hint of bitterness and resignation.

"Now even my former esports fans are urging me to speak up, what can I do?"

He paused, then explained, "Auntie, you have no idea, my private messages have exploded. They're all asking me to say something, as if I don't say anything makes it seem like I don't care about esports anymore."

Long Danni was silent for a few seconds, then tapped her fingers lightly on the table twice, as if weighing something.

"Whatever," she finally said. "Just talk about your opinion on e-sports dramas, don't generalize about the dramas themselves. You're in the entertainment industry now, so speaking too definitively won't do you any good."

Li Ran nodded, his expression turning serious.

"I understand." He paused, a slight smile curving his lips, a confident air about him. "And I've already come up with a way to achieve the best of both worlds."

Long Danni glanced at him but didn't ask any further questions.

She knew that although her nephew seemed carefree and irresponsible, he never neglected anything that needed to be thought out.

That evening, Li Ran updated her Weibo.

There were no lengthy explanations, no names mentioned, just one sentence: "Esports, forever filled with regrets, forever passionate, and forever brimming with ideals."

The accompanying image consists of three photos...

In 2017 at the Bird's Nest, he looked back at the back of the trophy; in 2018 in Incheon, he lifted the Summoner's Cup; in 2019 in Paris, he stood in the center of the stage, golden rain falling from above.

Three photos, three years, three expressions.

The first picture is a regret, the second is a peak, and the third is a reflection.

The post garnered over 10,000 comments in less than five minutes.

It wasn't because he mentioned anything, but precisely because he didn't mention anything.

Those who had been arguing on the trending topics all day suddenly fell silent.

As they looked at the three photos and the words, the emotions that had been weighing on their chests seemed to be caught by something.

Almost simultaneously, Zhang Yimou's studio's official account reposted Li Ran's Weibo post.

There were no extra words, just four: "Stay tuned."

The accompanying image is a script titled "Esports Legend".

The internet was in an uproar.

"Are Li Ran and the national advisor going to collaborate on a movie about e-sports?"

"Looking forward to it! Let's show them what real esports is, what League of Legends is all about!"

"Please, please don't make it into a romance film!"

"Burning God yyds!"

……

In the comments section, esports fans were celebrating, moviegoers were looking forward to it, and even casual observers were joining in the fun.

Some people have begun to analyze Zhang Yimou's previous works and speculate on what this e-sports movie will be like.

Some people dug up Li Ran's old interviews and found his views on the adaptation of e-sports into film and television.

Some people even took sentences from that long post, paired them with footage of Li Ran winning the championship, and made them into short videos.

Within just one hour, the topic garnered over ten million views.

To be honest, Li Ran's move indirectly relieved the pressure on "You're Beautiful When You Smile," and they really should thank Li Ran.

An hour after Li Ran posted that Weibo post, the number of reposts and comments was still jumping up.

He didn't pay much attention to it anymore, but the internet didn't quiet down as a result.

His former teammates, current professional players, retired veterans who became streamers, and LPL commentators all retweeted that Weibo post one after another.

No one said much, just forwarded it, adding a heart or a fist emoji.

Some people didn't even type a word, they just forwarded it.

The rows of IDs that forwarded the message lined up together, like a silent queue.

Li Ran did not reply to them, nor did he give them a thumbs up.

He simply lay in bed, listening to Tian Xiwei scroll through her phone beside him, occasionally reading a few comments to him. He would just hum in response, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

The next morning, when Li Ran arrived at Zhang Yimou's studio, Jin Yibo, the head of Tencent Esports' League of Legends division, was already there.

The meeting room wasn't large, but it was well-lit, with sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows and illuminating the entire long table.

Zhang Yimou sat in the main seat, with the script spread out in front of him, turning the pages one by one.

When Li Ran went in, he looked up and smiled.

"You're here? Have a seat."

The three parties have reached a cooperation agreement on the film and television adaptation of League of Legends.

The script was finished, and Li Ran took it and turned the pages one by one.

The story is based on his three-year professional career. The first two years basically recreate his experience in RNG and IG, and some changes were made in the third year. Instead of IG's two consecutive championships, it was changed to an all-Chinese team winning the championship.

He stared at that page for a long time.

All-Chinese team.

This is a word he's been using since his first day as a professional player, a dream that countless LPL viewers have been waiting for for many years.

The script made that happen for him.

He turned the page without saying anything.

There is romance, but it's just a supporting element, like a small dish of sauce placed next to the main course—it enhances the flavor without overpowering it.

The main storyline is clear: a young boy fights with all his might for the championship he dreams of.

Li Ran finished reading the last page and closed the script. "I have no objections."

After the three of them finished dinner, Li Ran returned to his apartment at 10 p.m.

When Xiao Chen helped him into the house, Tian Xiwei was curled up on the sofa watching TV. When she heard the door open, she turned around and saw Li Ran leaning against Xiao Chen, his face flushed and reeking of alcohol.

Xiao Chen helped the person to the sofa and then tactfully left.

Tian Xiwei stood up, frowned, and walked over.

Li Ran leaned back on the sofa, his eyes half-open and half-closed, muttering something under his breath.

She bent down to help him take off his coat, but the sleeve got stuck on his wrist and she pulled at it for a long time. He still wouldn't cooperate, and his arm hung limply at his sides.

"How much did you drink?" she complained, tugging at her sleeve. "Didn't you say you were fine after drinking?"

Li Ran didn't hear what she said, but he felt something warm and moving beside him, so he reached out and pulled it.

Caught off guard by his pull, Tian Xiwei fell onto him, her face bumping into his chest.

"What are you doing!" she tried to stand up, but Li Ran didn't let go.

He cupped her face in his hands, as if holding something fragile, and kissed her slowly and earnestly.

After a long while, he released her and murmured, "Wife, you smell so good... I love you."

Tian Xiwei was stunned for a moment.

He rarely says such things; he doesn't say them when he's sober, but he says them fluently when he's drunk.

She looked at his flushed face and shook her head helplessly.

"I'm your wife, so what's my name?" she asked, her tone like she was coaxing a child.

Li Ran thought for a moment and answered very seriously, "Tian Xiwei."

The next morning, when Li Ran opened his eyes, sunlight was already streaming in through the gaps in the curtains.

He rubbed his temples to clear his mind.

The bedside was empty; Tian Xiwei had already gotten up.

He walked out of the bedroom wearing a pair of baggy shorts. There were sounds coming from the kitchen. Tian Xiwei was standing in front of the stove, wearing his old T-shirt, her hair casually tied up, frying eggs.

"Wait a minute, it'll be ready soon." She didn't even turn her head.

Li Ran hummed in agreement and went to wash up.

On the table were two bowls of congee with preserved egg and lean pork, a plate of fried eggs, and a plate of stir-fried vegetables.

Li Ran sat down, took a sip of porridge, and hissed from the heat.

Tian Xiwei glared at him, her eyes seeming to say, "Serves you right."

He chuckled awkwardly and lowered his head to drink slowly.

"How much did you drink last night?" Tian Xiwei peeled an egg, breaking off the shell bit by bit. "You were so drunk, like a dead pig."

Li Ran smiled awkwardly, "There was nothing I could do, the two old men kept pouring me drinks, and I drank a bit too much."

"Two old men?" Tian Xiwei handed him the peeled eggs, her tone slightly reproachful. "Director Zhang and President Jin, you call them old men? That's rude."

Li Ran took the egg, took a bite, and said nothing.

Tian Xiwei didn't ask any further questions. She peeled another egg and put it in her own bowl.

"Tian Xiwei," Li Ran suddenly spoke up, "you're becoming more and more like my mother, wanting to control everything."

Tian Xiwei snorted coldly, the "humph" coming from her nose with a hint of smugness. "What, you don't like being controlled by me? I'm going to control you, are you going to listen?"

"I won't listen," Li Ran replied confidently, and then took the second egg she had just peeled.

Tian Xiwei rolled her eyes at him and didn't continue the topic.

"Has the cooperation agreement been finalized?"

Li Ran nodded and said casually, "We'll be starting filming soon after we finish filming 'The Legend of Canglan.' The script is finished and we're polishing it now."

He paused, swallowed the egg, and then took a sip of porridge.

"Is there a suitable role for me?" Tian Xiwei asked casually, but her eyes were fixed on him.

Li Ran shook his head.

"The female characters are basically just decorative. The female lead is an LPL host, and of course, she's a character in Director Zhang's drama." He said it very directly, leaving no room for negotiation.

Tian Xiwei pouted and poked at the bowl with her chopsticks. "What the netizens said is really true. Liu Haocun really is Director Zhang's mother, praising her so much."

Her tone was sarcastic, but that was all she said; she didn't elaborate further.

Li Ran didn't respond to that.

"If you hadn't told me," Tian Xiwei said again, "I would have really thought she had some powerful connections."

Li Ran did not answer. He put down his bowl, leaned back in his chair, and tapped his fingers unconsciously on the table.

Tian Xiwei looked up and saw his slightly furrowed brows. She asked, puzzled, "What's wrong? Did I say something wrong?"

Li Ran shook his head, picked up the bowl of porridge, and took a sip.

"It's nothing, my head still hurts a little."

Tian Xiwei looked at him, her gaze lingering on his face for a moment before she looked away.

"I hope it hurts you to death," she said lightly, with a hint of reproach. "Let's see if you drink so much next time. Have you forgotten that you used to only drink one glass?"

Li Ran chuckled sheepishly, "I'll be more careful next time."

He didn't tell her what he was thinking.

He thought of Liu Haocun, and of the public opinion from his previous life, which seemed to have started to ferment recently.

He frowned, finished his porridge, and knew there was no way to stop this. It had already happened 12 years ago, and as Liu Haocun's career progressed, it would inevitably be brought up again sooner or later.

The only thing Li Ran could do was try to mitigate the impact on Liu Haocun after the public outcry.

……