Chapter 185 Yue Hui’s Call

Chapter 185: Yue Hui's Phone Call

This year's Lunar New Year box office was another fierce battle, though much less dramatic than the previous year. With no one gaming the screening schedules, every film fought head-to-head for audience share, resulting in far fewer controversies.

Around this time, rumors about Liu Rennong preparing a new film began to circulate.

Last year, Shen Wenjie had exposed Liu Rennong's involvement in rigging screen allocations. Yet, while Liu's reputation took a hit, he still managed to secure film projects, whereas Shen Wenjie was blacklisted from the industry for his revelations.

Beyond Shen's "betrayal" of his mentor, there were likely shadowy forces behind the scenes at play.

Why did cinemas insist on gaming the screening schedules? Simply because it was profitable.

Shen Wenjie's exposure dried up certain pockets entirely.

It must be said that Liu Rennong is indeed savvy at buying PR. Lu Xu noticed that as soon as news of his new film spread, posts started circulating saying, "Director Liu has been wronged—he knows arguing is pointless, so he’ll prove himself through his work." This narrative swayed public opinion overnight, even cited by some marketers, quickly gaining traction.

Lu Xu was puzzled: "He’s a director—why does he need all this PR?"

"Then audiences will feel obligated to buy tickets, won’t they?" Xu Wen replied bluntly. "Besides, if his reputation is too tarnished, securing investments becomes difficult, and box office success will be harder too."

"You can tell from *How Much Do You Know* that Liu Rennong plays dirty by default. That film relied on backroom schemes. Since he can’t do that this time, he’s seizing the narrative first. Fair competition is tough for him."

Lu Xu couldn’t help shaking his head: "No wonder Director Miao won’t even dignify him with a mention."

During their collaboration on *Fearless Life*, Lu Xu had noticed that Miao Zhi didn’t harbor deep hatred for Liu Rennong—after so many years, even the strongest grudges fade. *Fearless Life* had raked in nearly 4 billion at the box office, not far behind *How Much Do You Know*, and it was a fair victory, unlike the latter’s underhanded tactics.

Rather than hatred, Miao Zhi now regarded Liu Rennong with disdain, refusing to have his name uttered alongside Liu’s.

Liu Rennong could do as he pleased—Miao Zhi no longer cared.

In any case, Liu Rennong’s new film, titled *Home and Country*, had already garnered significant attention before filming even began.

Lu Xu even saw marketers promoting it, claiming that while *Fearless Life* depicted Bai Qianshan’s lifelong dedication to the nation, *Home and Country* would present a grander vision of "home as country, country as home," inevitably surpassing *Fearless Life* in greatness.

To this, Lu Xu responded: "Does he have to leech off others’ success?"

And—Liu Rennong’s shamelessness knew no bounds. After all his shady dealings, he actually had the nerve to use a title like *Home and Country*.

Lu Xu had once considered Liu Rennong a great director, but after all these incidents, that pedestal crumbled to dust completely.

In some ways, Liu Rennong was even worse than Zhang Zhizhen—at least Zhang torpedoed his career for "art," whereas Liu didn’t care who suffered as long as he came out on top.

Forget ‘great director’—try being a halfway decent person.

As Xu Wen had predicted, Liu Rennong not only expressed interest in collaborating with Lu Xu but also extended a formal offer, which Lu Xu shot down immediately.

Two days later, Lu Xu saw himself viral under the headline: *Snubs Veteran Director in Act of Arrogance*.

Lu Xu: "..."

Whatever. With no explicit names, and there were many Contention Award winners in history, the title wasn’t explicitly about him.

He ignored the trend, but an older actor who had won the Contention Award years ago fired back: "Who’s being arrogant here?"

The marketer had to apologize, clarifying they meant Lu Xu specifically.

Lu Xu: "..."

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to engage—he just chose to let his work speak for itself.

He didn't want to associate himself with terms like "scrambling for screenings" or "shady dealings."

The truth is, Lu Xu wasn't the only actor in the industry with such thoughts. Whether it was bankable stars or those who had won awards fairly, they all guarded their reputations carefully.

Even though Liu Rennong might not resort to shady methods in the future, given the existing rumors, the audience would still let their imaginations run wild.

Bankable stars could pull in big numbers on their own merits and didn’t necessarily need to collaborate with Liu Rennong.

"He approached you too?" Lu Xu was surprised. "Did he just reach out to every actor he could think of?"

It was rare for Lu Xu to chat with Li Yan, and during their conversation, he learned that Li Yan had also received an invitation from Liu Rennong.

Li Yan mocked himself, "In the past, a director of his caliber wouldn’t want to work with someone like me—an actor who only has decent box office numbers. He’d prefer prestige actors."

"I suspect this film of his can’t afford to lose. It has to win."

"Anyone can see that," Lu Xu replied. "If he loses again, he’ll have nothing left."

Li Yan also shared some news with Lu Xu: "Shen Wenjie has gone completely dark lately—no updates on Weibo for a long time."

Lu Xu: "..."

"I don’t know anything, but it just feels odd," Li Yan mused. "It’s best if Shen Wenjie doesn’t get driven to the brink."

"Surely not?"

If Shen Wenjie’s exposé moved this from the entertainment pages to the crime blotter, that would be a bit too intense.

...

Liu Rennong had approached Lu Xu, Li Yan, and, as Lu Xu later found out, even Shao Yao.

By this point, despite Liu Rennong’s outwardly calm demeanor, Lu Xu could tell he was getting desperate—clutching at straws.

Lu Xu guessed that finding a lead actor for *Home and Country* wasn’t easy. Most actors with any sense of integrity wouldn’t want to get mixed up in this mess.

Lu Xu suggested Liu Rennong consider Bei Hong—an in-house actor, a practical choice. Besides, Bei Hong had experience in blockbuster films, so taking on another lead role wouldn’t be difficult.

Unfortunately, while Bei Hong was willing to play the lead, Liu Rennong didn’t think he measured up and only offered him the second male lead role.

Bei Hong wasn’t happy about this but forgot that Qi Di’s acting career had also started with a supporting role in *How Much Do You Know*. Back when Liu Rennong was at his peak, even minor roles in his films were highly sought after. Now, people were looking down on them now.

Bei Hong had a habit of using sock puppet accounts. He switched to one to trash-talk Liu Rennong until he was satisfied, then reluctantly accepted the second male lead role.

Deep down, he knew that after starring in *Sanctuary*, he’d been sitting on the bench for a long time. *Home and Country* was a family project, which was why he even got the second male lead role. With other directors, he might not even land that.

If Lu Xu had to summarize, he’d say everyone in Liu Rennong’s studio seemed a little... not right in the head.

Just weird overall.

...

Some time had passed since *Night Sky Observations* wrapped production, and Lu Xu was debating whether to dive into another shoot or chill for a while.

He realized he wasn’t as diligent as when he first started acting—now he preferred working in spurts, though his downtime was just as rewarding.

"How about a cameo as a supporting player?"

Just as Lu Xu was weighing his options, Yue Hui called him: "I know you haven’t signed on to any new films or accepted recent gigs."

Lu Xu sighed helplessly, "How do you know my schedule so clearly?"

"Not just me—every actor in the biz is keeping tabs. So many people want to work with you; everyone’s eyeing your next move."

"Is it really that exaggerated?"

"Next time, earn less at the box office, and the attention will naturally drop," Yue Hui joked.

"Not happening."

Yue Hui wasn’t asking for himself but for Ren Ningyi. Ren’s new film had a ruthless villain part that was originally cast, but the actor was in a car wreck and would be laid up in the hospital for a while.

"Is he okay?" Lu Xu asked.

"Nothing serious, but the contract can’t be fulfilled," Yue Hui said. "All the actors who could play this role are booked solid, so we can’t find a replacement right away. Ren Ningyi thought of you, but since he’s not that close to you, he asked me to feel you out."

After *Watchmen* flopped, there had been bad blood between Ren Ningyi and Yue Hui. But since so much time had passed and they still ran in the same crowd, they were bound to cross paths.

After years without collaboration, their relationship had actually improved slightly.

"Let me read the script first," Lu Xu said.

"Sure. This character’s scenes are scheduled later, so no hurry to report to set," Yue Hui replied. "If you’re willing, just shoot me a text, and I’ll inform the production team."

"Roger that." Lu Xu thought of something else. "Another cruel, twisted villain—feels like my new typecast."

"That’s because you’re capable," Yue Hui chuckled. "Otherwise, Ren Ningyi wouldn’t have thought of you first. That guy's got a serious attitude."

The script arrived soon after. True enough, the character was a ruthless villain with childhood trauma—abused by his parents and mocked by those around him, leaving him messed up. In his youth, he fell in love with a girl who treated him as nothing more than a plaything, humiliating him publicly.

Three months later, the police found the girl’s body in the woods on the city outskirts, partially devoured by wolves.

Lu Xu: "..."

Was he really going to take this role?

But the character had a strong presence in the script, with a complete arc and plenty of room for an actor to perform. It wasn’t a flat villainous role, so Lu Xu felt he could take it or leave it.

"Go for it," his manager urged. "Easy paycheck."

Lu Xu shot him a look. "What, you think I'm slacking?"

The manager quickly denied it. "I didn’t say that—you’re the one thinking it."

"...Close enough."

Lu Xu glared at him fiercely. "You should be grateful I’m not causing trouble. Look at the recent scandals—affairs, scams, hookup scandals, felonies… Is this all we ever hear about? Is being a decent person that hard?"

It's the same tired headlines—Lu Xu felt like he could recite them by now.

In the end, Lu Xu decided to accept the role. He threw some things in a bag and headed to the set without even bringing an assistant. The role wasn’t big, so he figured he’d wrap quickly.

As for his next film, he already had a rough idea.

Lu Xu actually liked comedy films, but he couldn’t pull them off. He could at least ask comedy directors if they needed investors. Lately, he’d read too many scripts without finding the right one, and he’d even considered taking on more supporting roles—but his star power wouldn’t let him.

A-list actors don’t keep playing supporting roles forever.