Chapter 154 154 Transition Chapter
by 远上天山Chapter 154: A Transitional Chapter
In early August, *Reversal City*, which had been in theaters for nearly a month, officially surpassed 1.5 billion at the box office. For Lu Xu, this marked his third film with box office earnings exceeding 1 billion.
Although Zhao Yifan publicly fell out with the crew, it didn’t affect *Reversal City*’s box office performance.
Many in the industry, including even lead actors like Lu Xu, found it puzzling. After all, to some extent, *Reversal City* wasn’t expected to be a box office hit.
Yet, the film defied expectations in the summer box office race—this year’s summer season, *Reversal City* currently ranked third. Amid a flood of blockbuster releases, this was a standout performance.
In recent years, movie box office numbers have declined, impacted by short dramas, short videos, and more fragmented forms of entertainment. Unless a film’s reputation was strong enough to be deemed must-see, audiences wouldn’t actively choose to go to the cinema.
“Can *Reversal City* surpass 2 billion?”
“Honestly, given the current state of this year’s box office market, this performance is already quite impressive. No wonder Zhao Yifan vied for top billing—at least the results look good.”
“Another 1.5 billion+ film. Lu Xu is doing quite well as an actor in the film industry. But with three consecutive films hitting 1.5 billion+, it feels like he’s hit a ceiling. Compared to his achievements in the TV world, his box office numbers could still be higher.”
“…And that’s still not enough? Which male actor in his age group can outperform Lu Xu?”
“It’s not about it not being enough, but rather that he still needs a breakout role—either a box office giant or an award-winning masterpiece. Understand?”
On film forums, some netizens meticulously analyzed Lu Xu’s acting career—in the TV world, his status is undeniable, with records and awards to his name. However, compared to his TV works, while his film projects are of good quality, they always seem to lack something.
*Chivalrous Fragrance* flopped domestically, though its overseas box office was unexpectedly strong.
*Feather of Youth* had a plot that was too simplistic.
*Reversal City*, on the other hand, was too niche.
In other words, none of these three films could fully convince audiences—at least, their public recognition wasn’t high enough. Unlike some works where just mentioning them would immediately bring the actor to mind.
In this regard, *The Year I Was 18* and *Chivalrous Fragrance* eclipsed the films Lu Xu had starred in.
“Honestly, doesn’t anyone feel that both the audience and the industry set way too high expectations for Lu Xu? He’s not Superman!”
“For idols transitioning into acting, getting a major award nomination before 30 is already considered a very successful transformation. Let’s not forget where Lu Xu started!”
After a lively discussion on the forums, a certain post suddenly reminded netizens that since Verse disbanded, Lu Xu had already achieved accomplishments beyond imagination.
Because of this, in the eyes of many netizens, it was only reasonable for the films he starred in to surpass 2 billion at the box office.
“Zhao Yifan isn’t an unknown actor, right? Enne Entertainment isn’t an unknown agency either. Why fight for the lead role in *Reversal City*? Because box office success is really hard to come by, especially since Lu Xu’s films are often underestimated by the industry and lack capital backing. Crossing 1 billion is a feat.”
…
The discussions about Lu Xu’s film box office performance arose because, after *Reversal City*’s release, while it surpassed 1.5 billion, the likelihood of hitting 2 billion was slim. Some sneered in posts, saying his baseline is solid but his peak is limited.
Some even firmly claimed that his films would never break 2 billion.
Lu Xu’s fans collectively dismissed these posts as nonsense.
Looking at the history of domestic box office rankings, aside from the few films that crossed 4 billion or 3 billion, few matched *Feather of Youth*’s profits. *Chivalrous Fragrance* made a huge profit overseas, and in terms of actual earnings, even *How Much Do You Know* might not compare.
Hardcore fans who care most about Lu Xu’s development are quite satisfied with these box office results. Yet, it’s always these outsiders who jump out to point out where Lu Xu still falls short, which is infuriating.
Lu Xu’s acting career has already surpassed even his fans’ wildest hopes. Even the most demanding fans never envisioned a better career path for him than this.
Of course, from a fan’s perspective, they naturally hope Lu Xu will star in films with even stronger box office performance. But box office success is unpredictable—even the most talented actors have their misses.
Anyway, fans are quite satisfied with the box office performance of *Reversal City*.
Although *Reversal City* fell short of the profits of *War Flames* or *Feather of Youth*, fans saw Lu Xu’s acting growth—he could now portray more restrained, profound characters, nearly becoming one with the role.
Lu Xu’s next project is the biographical film *Fearless Life*, which, in some ways, is even harder to turn into box office success than *Reversal City*. Fans are simply happy as long as Lu Xu enjoys the filming process. As for the box office numbers, that’s something to consider after the movie’s release.
"Bio-pics are hit or miss," Tan Qi couldn’t help but post on the forum. "Some in this genre are hits with critics and audiences—deeply moving and uplifting, even award-worthy. I feel this one might be more well-received than *Reversal City*."
"Here comes another Lu Xu stan."
"Has any domestic bio-pic ever crossed 3B at the box office? Not a single one."
"...It’s obvious Lu Xu wasn’t in *Reversal City* for the money. Awards are an easier bet than earning high ticket sales. Otherwise, he could’ve just collaborated with Li Yan—isn’t Li Yan preparing a new film?"
Lu Xu occasionally browsed forum posts—observing how others perceived him was quite interesting. But when he saw this post, he paused for a moment, reflecting on his motivation for taking *Fearless Life*.
Honestly… no real reason.
Most of the projects he chose were simply the best among the scripts sent to him.
Of course, Lu Xu wanted to win awards—what actor wouldn’t?—but he wasn’t hung up on it.
As for surpassing 2B at the box office… admittedly, the audience’s expectations of him were too high.
This wasn’t some xianxia novel, where breaking through the Golden Core stage meant advancing toward the Great Ascension. *Reversal City* ultimately topped out at 1.96B, and *Fearless Life* might not even reach 1B.
But the fans weren’t entirely wrong—headlining a 1-billion flick and a 3- or 4-billion flick were two entirely different things.
"I’d retire if I pulled those numbers," Zheng Xiao sighed. "If only I could get 10% of the profit share."
He noticed Lu Xu reading the post and peeked over his shoulder to take a look.
In reality, celebrities didn’t just scroll through Weibo and search their own names—they also lurked on forums. Zheng Xiao had recently taken to browsing film forums, where the hype around him was nonstop.
Lu Xu, however, was different. Perhaps because he was too famous, netizens came at him twice as hard.
Of course… when Zheng Xiao was nominated for the Xingchen Award Best Actor in a Television Series, the forums were just as brutal. The same went for Shao Yao, who won the Xingchen Award for Best Supporting Actor—many mocked him for mooching off Lu Xu’s fame.
"Well, at least he managed to cling to them."
Shao Yao was easily affected by such posts, but Zheng Xiao had thick skin. Lu Xu sometimes suspected that, if not for his celebrity status, Zheng Xiao might clap back in the comments.
Shao Yao was quickly convinced by Zheng Xiao, genuinely believing that being associated with Lu Xu was an honor.
Lu Xu had his own Lu Xu fanclub, and at the very least, the two of them were its right-hand men.
Lu Xu: "..."
His reputation was ruined by these two.
Tabloids kept pushing the narrative that Zheng Xiao and Shao Yao were leeching off him, but Lu Xu didn’t even understand what "leeching" meant in this context. He had never introduced roles to Zheng Xiao, nor to Shao Yao—both had earned their parts through their own efforts. To Lu Xu, such claims were straight-up insulting to them.
In the TV world, he was undeniably popular.
Lu Xu had seen the rankings of A-list and B-list actors in the TV world. After *The Year I Was 18*, he was indisputably at the top of the A-list, even beyond standard rankings. Nowadays, discussions about TV actors’ status and pay scales often excluded him—partly because he focused more on films, and partly because his track record blew everyone else’s out of the water.
Only after Lu Xu did other actors come into the picture.
Zheng Xiao and Shao Yao had starred in popular dramas, just not enough of them. For example, Zheng Xiao earned a Xingchen Award Best Actor nomination for *War Flames*, which also became his highest-rated drama. But since his other leading roles didn’t perform as well, his status hovered between A-list and B-list.
Shao Yao was in a similar position, roughly around the mid-tier A-list mark. His credits included *Voices of the Dead* and *Chivalrous Fragance*, along with the Stars Award for Best Supporting Actor, so his pay was slightly higher than Zheng Xiao's.
Objectively speaking, within the TV world, both of them were doing exceptionally well—whether in terms of status or earnings, they were among those whom other actors would seek to mooch off their fame. Yet, simply because they became friends with Lu Xu, they were saddled with the reputation of leeching off his success, which pissed Lu Xu off.
Just because Zheng Xiao and Shao Yao didn’t mind didn’t mean he didn’t.
Even before, when Su Zhao from the same company pretended to be close to ride his popularity, it was Zheng Xiao and Shao Yao who appeared on *Me and My Friends* with him to set the record straight.
In their friendship, Lu Xu didn’t feel like the other two had gained much from him. On the contrary, he was the one who benefited more from them.
In the acting profession, the higher you climb, the harder it becomes to make genuine friends—the joy they shared together could never be reduced to something as simplistic as "mooching off his fame."
Lu Xu didn’t post much on Weibo, but he always documented their daily hangouts in vlogs. For fans, these were rare peeks into Lu Xu’s real life, who otherwise rarely engaged with his audience.
To fans, Lu Xu had once been hurt by other members of Verse, so seeing him find true friends was nothing short of a godsend!
They’d much rather watch the Lu Xu in vlogs—goofing off like an idiot—than the gloomy, withdrawn Lu Xu who used to withdraw during Verse events.
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