Chapter 153: Analysis and Daily Life
[…Bro, isn’t that a bit much?]
[In my impression, Zhao Yifan was the serious and composed type of actor. How did he suddenly become so… lamestream?]
[His persona totally collapsed!]
Zhao Yifan’s real personality and the public image crafted by his agency were actually quite popular. In an era when celebrities tried every trick to please their fans, his unique approach had won him a fair share of admirers.
However, after falling out with the “Reverse City” crew and almost never attending promotional activities for the series, he began to emphasize that he was the true male lead of “Reverse City.”
Lu Xu’s previous efforts in squeezing out time to promote the series and advertise the movie seemed to pale in comparison to Zhao Yifan’s claim of being the “main lead.”
[…Is that really necessary? It’s just a movie with over a billion in box office earnings. Lu Xu isn’t even competing with you.]
[Actually… it is necessary.]
Zhao Yifan was a different type of actor from Qi Di. Being older, he had more acting experience. While Qi Di played a supporting role in “How Much Do You Know,” Zhao Yifan had starred in more films.
However, most of his past films were art-house films, and their numbers were not as high as the public believed. Thus, his actual box office performance was… in fact, not as good as Lu Xu’s, despite Lu Xu having debuted more recently.
For Zhao Yifan, the billion-plus earnings of “Reverse City” were already considered a notable achievement.
Of course, his eagerness to claim credit wasn’t entirely without ulterior motives—it was partly to spite the “Reverse City” crew. Since he had already severely offended Mu Lang, who would never show him a friendly face again, any future collaboration was out of the question. So why not make Mu Lang uncomfortable?
Besides, no one could deny that part of the box office success of “Reverse City” was due to his role as the male lead.
Zhao Yifan undeniably achieved his goal, though the audience found the whole situation rather baffling.
[…This is the first time in my life I’ve seen someone fight over credit like this.]
[You just haven’t seen enough. Forget billion-yuan box office films—there are people who fight tooth and nail over billing order before a show even airs. Doesn’t matter if it flops or explodes, the top spot must be mine first.]
[You can’t really call it stealing credit, though. He is the male lead. But in my heart, Lu Xu had the strongest presence in Reverse City.]
[Unbelievable. Zhao Yifan sniped at Lu Xu on set to steal his scenes, and now he’s performing live to claim the film’s success. But do the director, crew, or co-stars even acknowledge this?]
In fact, after the “NG 20 times” joke spread, several anonymous crew members from Reverse City publicly complained about Zhao Yifan.
Naturally, these complaints only surfaced with Mu Lang’s tacit approval.
As a result, the audience learned that from the very start of filming, Zhao Yifan had harbored hostility toward Lu Xu. The so-called feud between them? It was entirely one-sided, initiated by Zhao Yifan himself.
[If Lu Xu had a history of conflicts, wouldn’t there have been rumors long ago? But there’s never been a single case.]
[Our puppy is super popular on set, okay? From the oldest to the youngest, who hasn’t been charmed by Lu Puppy?]
The crew also revealed another detail: one of the most well-received scenes between Zhao Yifan and Lu Xu had actually worked so well because Lu Xu had carried Zhao Yifan’s performance.
And yet—even after achieving such a flawless collaboration, Zhao Yifan still treated Lu Xu with a cold attitude.
Then came the Qi Di incident. Lu Xu had refused to accept Zhao Yifan’s apology, but everyone knew it was just a desperate attempt on Zhao Yifan’s part to continue filming Reverse City.
[The cost of multiple NGs was indeed high, but Director Mu was known for burning through money. The additional expenses caused by retakes were actually within his acceptable range. However, replacing the male lead, reshooting the already completed scenes, and the time lost in the process—that was a cost the production team simply couldn’t afford.]
The audience, upon receiving this information: “…”
From a rational perspective, they couldn’t understand Zhao Yifan’s logic.
Why couldn’t he just wait for Reverse City to finish its run, bask in the glow of a successful box office, and maintain at least a superficial peace with the production team?
The only explanation was that he had no faith in Reverse City at all. He might have even believed the film would flop.
[After all, the movie’s opening-day box office was just so-so. Normally, if it made 80 million on the first day, the second day might drop to 60 million, then 50 million. It wouldn’t be surprising if it ended up with less than 300 million in total.]
[Think about it—he already felt mistreated on set, convinced that all the good treatment went to Lu Xu (in his own mind). Then, the film had a production budget of 320 million but only pulled in 80 million on its opening day. For a movie to break even, it needed at least 1 billion. And let’s be real—how many movies in a year start with an 80-million debut and go on to surpass 1 billion? That number is almost zero.
In other words, Zhao Yifan was convinced the movie was doomed to flop. If he didn’t gain anything from it and the film flopped, he’d be the one shouldering the blame as the male lead. Of course, he had to distance himself from the production team.]
[The trending topic was #ScenesCut, but have you noticed? Zhao Yifan and Enne Entertainment never actually specified which of his scenes got cut. Did anyone mention a particular scene where he acted exceptionally well but was removed? Any details about the storyline? No! All they emphasized was how much he contributed, how he painstakingly shot the same scene 20 times, and oh—one of those takes ended up being scrapped because the director ultimately didn’t use it.]
[The trending topic was just bait to set up the idea that the production team treated him unfairly. Once the movie flopped, wouldn’t we start seeing hashtags like #A Production Team That Mistreats Its Lead Deserves To Flop# and # Reverse City Deserved To Fail# ?]
[And by that time, would Reverse City flopping have anything to do with Zhao Yifan?]
This breakdown left netizens stunned. But the more they thought about it, the more it made sense.
During the Reverse City promotional period, Zhao Yifan had been notably indifferent toward the production team. Yet, the #ScenesCut# controversy only erupted after the movie had officially premiered.
[Wait… was it really that calculated?]
[Now that you put it this way, Reverse City flopping would be connected to him—it’s because they didn’t treat him well! And when that happens, another wave of trending topics could be easily bought.]
[My brain hurts.]
[Honestly, if Reverse City had followed the typical trajectory of an underperforming film, Zhao Yifan would’ve already won his bet. The only thing he didn’t anticipate was that Reverse City actually made its money back—and then some. With Mu Lang’s ability, an overseas distribution push could boost its profits even further.]
[So his mindset afterward was basically: I suffered so much in the production, and now the movie’s a hit? I get all the downsides while everyone else enjoys the benefits?]
Netizens: “…”
[My only takeaway from this is—Lu Xu’s bizarre luck really never fails. Can’t he run into a normal rival for once?]
[…Yue Hui was a rival! And Zheng Xiao (Flames of War version) was a rival too!]
Meanwhile, Zheng Xiao (Lu Xu Treats Me to Dinner version) reportedly took to his alt account to passionately defend Lu Xu, going full warrior mode against trolls and antis.
According to Zheng Xiao, those sarcastic trolls weren’t necessarily Zhao Yifan’s fans. Their style of speech didn’t match the demeanor of someone who followed an actor like Zhao Yifan, who had always maintained a serious and dignified public image.
Besides, since the entire world knew he was Lu Xu’s best buddy, he had a personal reason to dislike Zhao Yifan. Not long ago, they had both attended an event, and Zhao Yifan had given him a disdainful once-over—then even sneaked in a glare.
As repayment for enduring such hostility, Lu Xu had to treat him to a meal.
Lu Xu countered, “You didn’t glare back?”
Zheng Xiao admitted, “I couldn’t bring myself to. I just asked him if he thought my eyes were too big.”
Lu Xu: “…”
The reason Zheng Xiao was able to drop by so easily was that the drama he was currently filming happened to be shooting at the same studio complex as Fearless Life. The two sets were within walking distance.
Seizing the opportunity, Zheng Xiao invited Lu Xu to cameo in his show.
“Eunuch? East Factory or West Factory Eunuch?”
Zheng Xiao answered honestly, “Bicycle factory director.”
Close enough. A factory was a factory.
It really was a coincidence.
With the popularity and award nominations of Flames of War, Zheng Xiao’s career in serious dramas had expanded significantly. His new lead role was in a large-scale period drama with a much bigger budget and stronger cast than any of his previous projects. The story revolved around perseverance and industrial development, and one of the characters was the director of a bicycle factory.
Unfortunately, the character’s arc was brief—his factory was soon swept away by the tides of progress, replaced by motorcycles. Just like many once-thriving factories, his became nothing more than a nostalgic memory for consumers.
Zheng Xiao made an earnest invitation, and Lu Xu happily accepted. His role was short, and his costume didn’t require much adjustment. Half a day of filming, and he was done.
In return, Zheng Xiao also made a guest appearance in Fearless Life. Neither of them got paid, and both were very satisfied with the arrangement.
However, the directors of Fearless Life and Zheng Xiao’s new drama privately chipped in some money, telling the two to treat each other to a fancy meal.
All in all, it was an unexpected bonus.
Lu Xu would use his share to treat Zheng Xiao first, while Zheng Xiao’s turn would have to wait until Shao Yao returned.
Shao Yao was currently filming a movie where he was practically eating sand in the desert. Whenever he video-called Lu Xu and Zheng Xiao, his face on screen was always covered in dust.
But he seemed quite happy with it—he was challenging a role unlike any he had played before. Among the three of them, Lu Xu believed Shao Yao had the strongest dedication to acting. His personality was too straightforward to be distracted by all the industry drama.
As long as he was filming, he was fully immersed.
Since they were stationed so close to each other, Lu Xu and Zheng Xiao naturally became an inseparable duo, wandering around and playing games together.
Once Reverse City’s promotion period ended, Zheng Xiao would run over to the Fearless Life set whenever he had a break, chatting with the other actors and waiting for Lu Xu to finish filming so they could go for a walk.
The studio lot wasn’t particularly scenic, and with their free time, they had to find ways to entertain themselves. Occasionally, Zheng Xiao would start a livestream at his agency’s request, and Lu Xu would pop in to join the fun.
Most of the time, though, they were either cycling, fishing, or playing badminton. Since Lu Xu had already mastered advanced techniques in the latter, Zheng Xiao flat-out banned it.
Given that Lu Xu had played a bicycle factory director, the set was naturally filled with bicycles.
One day, fans spotted Lu Xu in a post on Zheng Xiao’s Weibo, standing in front of a massive row of pristine vintage bicycles.
[This is the empire Zheng built.] —Zheng Xiao’s caption.
[LMAO, the metaphysical energy is kicking in! Biubiubiu!]
[Truly spine-chilling!]
[Terrifying!]
