Chapter 213 Box Office Surge

Chapter 213: Box Office Blitz

As fans put it, Lu Xu's previous looks were "a little too safe"—he could definitely afford to be more daring. However, styling isn't solely an actor’s decision but must align with the plot, and his earlier films didn’t give him much room to experiment.

For fans, *Number A77* is an absolute visual feast.

The stills could easily be cropped into wallpapers—compared to his debut drama *My Baby, The Noble Son*, the current Lu Xu has fully matured into the contours of a fully grown man.

"This is exactly the kind of hotness I want to see!!!"

"Honestly, I feel young actors should totally try roles like this. But for some reason, in domestic films of this genre, if a young actor takes the lead, they either end up in teen melodramas or soapy love triangles. Audiences would probably love this type of movie, right?"

"Because... there are too many directors like Zhang Zhizhen in the industry. Actors engaging in 3Ps or even group scenes is considered 'art,' but making fun, lighthearted rom-coms or action flicks? That’s 'trashy.'"

"Yikes..."

Fans took a closer look—do they not enjoy movies like *Number A77*?

No, they love them. It’s just that directors don’t love making them.

In terms of genre, domestic films in recent years have been too narrowly focused. While there are special effects-heavy films, *Sanctuary*-level garbage is far too common. These movies rake in box office cash early on, but after being burned too many times, audiences inevitably grow skeptical of so-called blockbusters.

Both *Night Sky Observations* and *Number A77* are films that invested heavily in special effects, and audiences can clearly see where the money went.

Yet the current market prioritizes story depth over technical craftsmanship.

Additionally, big-budget effects films inherently lack the possibility of small-budget, big-payoff returns.

When it comes to high-cost productions, investors typically favor established directors with past hits. New directors have slim-to-none chances of securing funding, while veteran directors often have their own distinct styles, prioritizing depth over technical spectacle.

To some extent, this problem has no solution.

...

Lu Xu came down with a nasty cold. He took two days off, but by the third day’s promotional event, he still looked totally wiped. Backstage, he was out of it, barely awake, and onstage, he was running on fumes.

"No more weight loss for now—eat and drink more," Xu Wen, who rarely accompanied Lu Xu to events, brought a large thermos and made sure Lu Xu drank on schedule.

Lu Xu felt like his water intake could be measured in gallons.

Despite the haze, he pushed through the entire event.

The crew released footage of Lu Xu climbing trains and skydiving, and the screams from fans almost blew out his eardrums.

This segment wasn’t originally planned, but to minimize how much Lu Xu had to speak, the director added it last-second.

Though *Number A77*’s behind-the-scenes lacked comedic moments, one thing that left a deep impression on fans in the B-roll was Lu Xu’s steely gaze—whether scaling cliffs or leaping across chasms, he never hesitated.

At the very least, it was a stark contrast to the current Lu Xu, whose weakened state made his eyes seem weirdly gentle.

Everyone knows Lu Xu is dedicated, but while his past works showcased his skill through micro-expressions and emotional depth, *Number A77* proved it through sheer blood, sweat, and tears.

He carried the machine guns himself. For dangerous stunts, he only used a double if it was absolutely impossible for him to do it… *Number A77*’s filming wasn’t as effortless as audiences might assume.

Though there were fewer acting-heavy scenes, achieving stunning visuals still relied heavily on the actor’s own effort.

"You really think maintaining an action-star bod is that easy?"

"LMAO, sometimes the contrasts in the entertainment industry are just brutal (yes, I’m throwing shade). Real box office giants like Lu Xu and Li Yan do their own stunts, push through events despite poor health to not disappoint waiting fans, while others flaunt beer bellies, use doubles for everything—even a tiny cut on their finger... I won’t name names, but fans will still cry, 'Do you know how hard they work?' or 'You do it then!' Yeah, *real* hard."

"The previous comment called out a bunch of people, hahaha. I’ve made similar jokes before too, and got accused of body-shaming, LOL. Seriously, what’s even shameful about it? I just wanna ask?"

"Lu Xu’s lasting popularity is no fluke—there’s a reason he’s stayed on top."

Wu Ming actually considered running a "Lu Xu Promotes While Sick" campaign, but Lu Xu refused. *Number A77* had already been topping the box office charts all week, and such a marketing move would’ve come off as tasteless.

Lu Xu is willing to go all out for his roles, but he doesn’t want that to become a major selling point in his acting career.

Acting is a profession, and dedication to a character is expected—especially when he’s already earning more money from it than most people could dream of in a lifetime. He can’t have it both ways.

Of course, even though the production team didn’t actively promote it, the news still trended due to Lu Xu’s sheer popularity.

*Number A77* continued its box office domination.

By Sunday, its third day, the film had raked in 292 million yuan, leading the daily rankings by a wide margin. By then, its total box office had already surpassed 1.4 billion yuan.

To date, Lu Xu has never starred in a movie that earned less than 1 billion yuan. His films either do extremely well or explode—none have ever bombed.

Naturally, opinions on *Number A77* within the industry were mixed.

Even critics like *Movie Diary*, who usually favor Lu Xu, felt the film lacked depth, though they praised its pacing, calling it a model for commercial hits and suggesting it might represent the future direction of blockbuster filmmaking.

"The plot might be formulaic, but if it’s a formula audiences love, why not milk it for box office gold?"

Others in the industry were far harsher, accusing Lu Xu of "selling his body at his age" and claiming *Number A77*’s success was "all about the tight suit."

Lu Xu: "..."

He’d heard this before.

First of all, he wasn’t “selling his body at his age.”

Secondly—"This is a 1.4-billion-yuan physique. Tell me you wouldn’t cash in?"

Before the critics could reply, Lu Xu answered his own question in the comments: "Oh wait, you wouldn’t. You’re Mr. High-and-Mighty."

Netizens: "..."

"We love it, we love it, we just love it—who asked you anyway?"

"Deeply felt some people's jealousy. Maybe because they couldn't sell it even if they tried?"

"OMG, saying 'selling his body at his age'—if I were Lu Xu, I wouldn’t take that lying down. What’s the point of being so rude? *Number A77*’s success must be making some people green with envy. Besides talking trash, can you even earn a tenth of what this film made?"

"Dial back the hate—the malice is practically oozing out."

In the past, industry critiques of Lu Xu’s work at least tried to nitpick things like content, depth, plot structure, or cinematography. Back then, his films hadn’t yet crossed the 2 billion yuan mark, and he wasn’t seen as the biggest threat in the industry, so the criticism still carried a patronizing attitude.

He was even mocked for never breaking the 2 billion yuan barrier.

But after *Fearless Life* and two consecutive box office smashes, the "professional" critiques vanished, replaced by claims that his work was "basic" and that *Night Sky Observations*’ success was "an embarrassment for cinema."

Lu Xu wanted to ask—what’s there to mourn when you’ve never even made a movie yourself?

Makes no sense.

From the way his rivals had changed their tune, all Lu Xu sensed was pure saltiness.

It was like they couldn’t compete in box office or awards, so they resorted to throwing shade—just to get a rise out of him.

"The plot of *Number A77* isn't bad, is it?" Lu Xu genuinely thought so himself.

"Not bad at all," Zheng Xiao agreed with Lu Xu. "They ignore all the trash films released this year—why single out *Number A77* as bad?"

"Because they couldn't pull it off," Shao Yao chimed in. He had also been heavily criticized recently.

For someone like Lu Xu, whose reputation was rock-solid, negative comments were merely empty words. Shao Yao, however, was different—he was still in the rising phase of his film career, and the attacks against him were serious.

His agency's counter-strategies were lackluster and not as effective when competing for roles. Fortunately, Shao Yao could handle the pressure on his own.

By comparison, Zheng Xiao's agency was stronger.

Each company had its own style, and the three of them had chosen the agencies that best suited them. Zheng Xiao was signed to a major company with many restrictions, but he was used to it. Lu Xu disliked being controlled, while Shao Yao was well protected by his agency.

Although Ming Niao Agency lacked influence, they treated Shao Yao, their top star, with warmth.

When *Number A77* was released, Shao Yao and Zheng Xiao grabbed tickets for the opening day to support it. After a year-and-a-half hiatus, Lu Xu finally had a new film out, and both were equally concerned about its box office performance—though, considering Lu Xu's track record, worrying was unnecessary.

When Zheng Xiao checked *Number A77*'s box office numbers again, he found the total had already surpassed 2 billion yuan (~$280M), and the film hadn’t even been out for a full week yet.

Zheng Xiao predicted that even if *Number A77* didn’t reach 4 billion, 3.5 billion was achievable.

"As long as there aren't any particularly tough competitors later... Huh." Zheng Xiao casually checked the upcoming release schedule. "I thought *Roaring Scream* wasn’t part of the summer lineup. Did it suddenly move up?"

"It seems like it," Lu Xu remarked. "They likely fast-tracked it for summer. I heard this film has great overseas reviews and high box office numbers."

"It made $1B worldwide, right? I didn’t expect it to release so soon."

A $1B worldwide box office draw couldn’t rely on just one market—it had to perform globally.

In the entire history of cinema, only a few dozen films had ever joined the billion-dollar club—fewer than 50 films total.

For the *Number A77* team, *Roaring Scream* was clearly a threat.

Summer blockbusters accumulate box office revenue week by week. Even on its first Thursday, a week after release, *Number A77* still earned nearly 200 million yuan (~$28M).

Following normal box office trends, *Number A77* was still in peak momentum. If it could maintain high screening rates, it might surpass 3 billion in less than a week after crossing the 2-billion mark.

But *Roaring Scream* was set to release that Friday.

This was a film that had recently become the global annual box office champion, topping charts in over a dozen countries. Not only was it arriving with overwhelming momentum, but it was also likely to secure prime-time slots.

"*Number A77*, watch out!"

"It's time certain filmmakers saw what a real international blockbuster looks like. Stop flaunting your shallow, flashy flicks—overseas audiences mock them, thinking we have no taste."

"*Number A77*'s luck has clearly run out."

There was no denying that *Roaring Scream* was a box office behemoth. On its opening Friday, it snatched up 34% of all screenings and prime-time theater slots, forcing *Number A77* into second place.

Netizens expected *Roaring Scream* to crush *Number A77* immediately, but in reality, while *Number A77*'s box office did drop significantly, it wasn’t as dismal as predicted.

On its eighth day, *Number A77* was raking in 159 million yuan (~$22M), holding strong at #2 at the box office.