Chapter 237: 237 Discussion

Chapter 237: Discussion

Lu Xu had been closely monitoring the box office performance of *Reign Supreme*. This year's Lunar New Year movie season was unusually calm, with no intense competition—*Dragon Palace*, *Reign Supreme*, and *The Robot* each had their own loyal fan bases.

The most common comment Lu Xu saw regarding *Reign Supreme* was that it required patience.

Shortly after the film’s release, Chang Aiwei jokingly mentioned plans for a sequel, which many fans supported. However, whether a sequel would actually happen depended on the film’s financial success—and how committed the production team was to making it happen.

Lu Xu’s debut film, *Deception*, had ended on a cliffhanger, hinting at a possible follow-up. Unfortunately, although *Deception* initially succeeded thanks to Yue Hui’s determination, its profits—and the substantial bonus Lu Xu received—attracted opportunists eager to cash in. Endless disputes eventually stalled *Deception 2*.

Yue Hui had long since distanced himself from the project: "Let them fight it out. At least I broke even."

His sole goal had been to get *Deception* made. Once that was achieved, the sequel’s fate—or his own removal—was no longer a concern.

In the entertainment industry, this was standard practice.

After a blockbuster hit, sequels often involved replacing entire teams—sometimes pushing aside the original creators while new players rode the wave of the first film’s success.

Opportunities needed to be seized; momentum had to be used wisely.

However, *Reign Supreme* was different from *Deception*. While its current earnings were solid, it lacked the global reach of *Deception*. Worse, the historical genre scared off many investors.

A profitable first installment didn’t guarantee audiences would embrace a second.

Niche genres could strike gold occasionally, but sustaining success? That was far more difficult.

"Hit ¥2 billion, and we’d have funding for a sequel," Chang Aiwei privately mused. "We’ve kept the sets and costumes from the first film—this saves a lot of money."

The extravagant sets of *Reign Supreme* had drawn widespread praise. Another crew soon approached Chang Aiwei to rent them, generating additional income.

...

Although the Lunar New Year season had ended, attendance remained strong through the Lantern Festival. With excellent word-of-mouth, earnings only slightly declined.

*Reign Supreme* continued to gross over ¥100 million daily.

When the total box office reached ¥2 billion, the director threw a celebration for Lu Xu and Zheng Xiao, opening up his prized collection of liquor. As they poured small glasses, the director’s pained expression led Zheng Xiao to joke, "Director Chang, why don’t I take this bottle home so you won’t feel sad?"

Chang Aiwei: "I’m not feeling sad."

Zheng Xiao: "You are." After some light teasing back and forth, the director watched as the bottle was emptied.

#What kind of creatures eat and drink like this#

#My leading men#

After the festival, *The Robot* and *Dragon Palace* also maintained steady performances.

Two weeks later, *Reign Supreme*’s earnings slightly rebounded, surpassing ¥150 million in a single day—reclaiming the top spot on the daily charts for the first time.

This surge followed a viral analysis by a self-proclaimed "expert" who explored the connections between Emperor Qi Yi and the dream-visiting "Empress Dowager."

Inside Qi Yi’s palace lay a dagger: if the figure in the dream was real, the blade would appear; if merely a concubine’s fantasy, it would vanish without a trace.

Here’s the refined translation incorporating the expert suggestions:

The relationship between the character "Empress Dowager" and Qi Yi wasn’t as straightforward as the movie made it seem.

"If Qi Yi’s parents had been ordinary people, he would’ve grown up normal too—not into such a cold, unpredictable figure."

Drawn in by the details dissected by film buffs, fans rushed back to theaters.

For any movie, the percentage of audiences doing second-viewings or third-viewings isn’t huge. A film can’t bank on repeat viewers alone to chase blockbuster numbers.

But when audiences willingly rewatch, it at least confirms the film’s solid quality.

This Spring Festival season, *Reign Supreme*’s hidden details lured many back for multiple showings. *Robot* also had its repeat viewers, while *Dragon Palace* attracted the fewest.

*Dragon Palace* had easter eggs, whereas *Reign Supreme* packed layered metaphors most viewers missed initially.

When *Reign Supreme* hit #1 on the charts, it left audiences scratching their heads.

"This year’s Spring Festival lineup—anything goes."

"It feels like the crews are sharing some inside joke we’re not in on."

"Next week will *Dragon Palace* snag the top spot? Just wondering."

The moment *Reign Supreme* grabbed #1, netizens scrolled through the holiday box office rankings and gasped at its lead.

"????"

"Bet nobody saw *Reign Supreme* dominating before the lineup dropped."

"OMG Lu Xu’s curse is still active—biubiubiu! Mind-blowing how *Reign Supreme*, *Dragon Palace* and *Robot* are neck and neck. *Dragon Palace*’s falling behind now, but all three cleared 200 million yuan."

"Insane!!!"

"Next-level!!!"

"Had *Robot* pegged as this year’s holiday champ, but with *Reign Supreme* leading? Who knows how it’ll end?"

...

The three-way box office battle wasn’t just crew business—even casual fans started placing bets.

*Reign Supreme*’s three-day reign got cut short when *Robot Creation Manual* knocked it off.

Then *Reign Supreme* bounced back for another day.

Thankfully Liu Rennong had quit the industry—otherwise, the film’s rollercoaster box office run might’ve sparked rumors of backroom deals.

Honestly, *Reign Supreme*’s earnings were all over the place.

One day losing to *Robot*, the next pulling ahead. Even when all three struggled to hit 100 million daily, *Reign Supreme* occasionally spiked.

The two films went head-to-head for weeks until, limited by its niche appeal, *Reign Supreme* narrowly lost to *Robot Creation Manual*.

Final totals: *Robot Creation Manual* at ¥3.3 billion, *Reign Supreme* at ¥3.1 billion, and *Dragon Palace* third with ¥2.8 billion.

In this market, those numbers were a huge win.

Though *Reign Supreme* didn’t take the holiday crown, Lu Xu’s star power had the industry shook. "At this rate, two more films and Lu Xu’s total lead-actor earnings hit ¥30 billion."

"Speed like the wind, a man like the wind."

"If *Reign Supreme* can earn 3 billion, does that mean no matter what genre Lu Xu stars in, the floor would be 2 billion?"

"..."

2 billion... For other actors, this would be an almost impossible goal, but when the subject is Lu Xu, no one seems to doubt it.

"After all, it's been ages since Lu Xu last had a movie that earned less than 2 billion."

"He only has three films that made under 2 billion, and one of them even won him a *Contention Award* for Best Actor... Though the box office was 'only' under 2 billion—that 'only' is loaded with sarcasm—but combined, those three films probably earned around 5 billion, right?"

"*Deception* doesn’t count."

"Hahaha, so when ranking achievements now, Lu Xu operates in a league of his own. The prestige of his awards alone can outshine everyone else."

"Of course, Lu Xu himself doesn’t even want to compare with others. There’s no need—he’s just on a completely different level."

...

The impact of *Reign Supreme* surpassing 3 billion at the box office didn’t stop there.

A month after the film’s release, Chang Aiwei, Lu Xu, and Zheng Xiao attended a panel discussion together, where they discussed the success of *Reign Supreme*. The core creative team each gave their insights, while experts explored the possibility of developing more historical films based on the response to *Reign Supreme*.

With *Reign Supreme*’s box office performance, it’s clear that historical films are absolutely commercially viable.

The settings don’t necessarily have to be grand—intimate stories or little-known figures can work just as well.

The audience isn’t rejecting this genre at all. Whether it’s *Reign Supreme*, which tells a story from their own history, or films about foreign history—even those with confusing names like "the Second to the Eighteenth"—the audience accepts them just fine.

What they can’t accept are just those complete trash films.

During his speech, Lu Xu shared his thoughts on the character Qi Yi, including the preparation he did before filming and how he followed the script during production.

"First, understand what kind of Qi Yi the script requires—what role he plays in this story. Is he cowardly or brave, gentle or domineering..."

In reality—the audience didn’t care much about what Lu Xu said at the panel. They just remembered how good he looked in his frameless glasses, how his suit looked sleek and refined, and how 'manga-like' he appeared.

Lu Xu: "Whatever."

But as someone in the film industry, learning is his duty, and developing characters is his responsibility. If the audience thinks he looks good or handsome, that’s enough.

Movies are entertainment meant to bring joy to the audience. Actors like them have already made enough money—they shouldn’t turn around and criticize the audience.

In short, *Reign Supreme* has indeed given the industry more hope for historical films, much like how *Night Sky Observations* breathed new life into fantasy films.

"I sincerely hope Lu Xu makes a horror movie!!! The current horror films are so damn boring!"

"+1!!! I’m so tired of ghost movies where the protagonist wakes up and realizes it was all just a dream. China's rule about animals not becoming spirits after the founding of the nation, but no one said ghosts can’t appear."

"LOL, last time I watched a ghost movie where the protagonist redeemed the ghost—I was so mad I almost smashed my TV. The atmosphere was actually built up really well, had me totally hooked, and then the ending was like, 'Oh, it was just Handsome Shuai’s dream.' Total BS!"

"Why can’t Lu Xu do a courtroom drama? He’d look ridiculously handsome in a suit!"

"Suggest Lu Xu star in a movie about the entertainment industry. No reason needed—I just want to see it."

"Sign me up for that too!"

After some discussion, the creepy hashtag #WantToSliceLuXuIntoPieces# started trending.

Lu Xu: "...Think happier thoughts."

He could see it clearly—despite having put in blood, sweat, and tears on so many projects, his fans still felt his workload wasn’t enough. In their eyes, filming 100 projects a year would be just right.

So, under the hashtag, he posted a Weibo update: "Impossible."

"What do you mean impossible?!"

"It’s totally possible!!!"

"Honestly, we could just develop cloning technology. A carbon copy of Lu Xu feels entirely achievable."

"I’m wheezing—give the guy a break."

Longtime fans knew this scenario had played out many times before. Back when he was still acting in TV dramas, it was the same, and now that he’d transitioned to films, he still couldn’t escape fans demanding, "No need to film too much—just 100 projects a year is enough."

"One every two days, with a day off. Not tiring at all."

"???!!! Even if Lu Xu were a workhorse, he’d have his dignity. He shouldn’t live like this."

"Lu Xu: This is Weibo, not a wishing well. Thanks."

Occasionally, fans would also wish for him to appear in more singing and dancing shows: "At least give my eyeballs a mercy rinse. Has anyone seen the current idol shows? The contestants are a hot mess, yet they all think they’re God’s gift to visuals. Squinting their eyes, raising their brows—they genuinely believe they’re so cool, while I feel my lifespan shortening by the second—"

"HAHAHAHA stop, I’ll start relating to this!!"

"Seriously!!!! And after they debut, they start acting too. If they were at least decent-looking, fine, but 99.9% of them are just hard on the eyes. I really don’t get it—where have all the handsome men of this era gone?!"

"Where have all the handsome men gone? (yelling into the void) And these unattractive people keep having the weirdest scandals. In comparison, Lu Xu is the last bastion of hotness in the industry."

"Actually... they all know it deep down. They don’t even dare mention Lu Xu anymore. Back then, they’d all say they aspired to be like him. Hilarious—now they realize they couldn’t touch him with a 10-foot pole."

"+1 to joining an idol show. At least let those people see what real handsomeness looks like. Stop embarrassing yourselves—having once been a fan of them is my cringe phase. I’m too ashamed to even bring it up, HAHAHA."

Lu Xu realized that even after all these years, fans were still obsessed with making him a judge on idol shows.