Chapter 45 1/3

“Selling merchandise? In stock? So much inventory?”

When Xie Wan Zhao saw this news, she was already sure that Sheng Quan would suffer a total loss.

As an almost fifty-year-old middle-aged person, she had considerable experience, having climbed from a penniless young girl to her current wealth and status.

She felt secretly delighted but didn’t show it. Instead, she maintained a senior’s demeanor and casually commented, “Selling merchandise for a newly released movie in the domestic market? It seems this young Sheng Dong, accustomed to the foreign environment, didn’t carefully research the Huaguo market when entering the film industry.”

She had every reason to gloat, considering that Xie Wan Zhao was an investor in “Iron-Blooded Boss.”

“Iron-Blooded Boss” was the most anticipated movie in this year’s Spring Festival lineup—before “Cultivator” appeared.

On the day when “Cultivator” suddenly surpassed “Iron-Blooded Boss” in box office on the first day, Xie Wan Zhao immediately convened a meeting and urgently increased the publicity efforts for their own movie.

As expected, publicity still worked. Their box office on the second day exceeded expectations, a typical upward trend.

At that moment, Xie Wan Zhao breathed a slight sigh of relief. Even if “cultivator” continued to rise steadily, there was still hope for a reversal.

The best outcome would be if they didn’t rise steadily.

“Cultivator” indeed didn’t rise steadily.

It shot up like a soaring monkey.

Xie Wan Zhao: “…”

Don’t ask; the answer is regret.

“Iron-Blooded Boss” had been finished filming long ago, and they had deliberately waited for the Spring Festival season. Regardless of internal previews or professional reviews, they were confident.

Regarding other movies choosing the same release period during the Spring Festival, Xie Wan Zhao and the others also conducted precise analyses. The conclusion was that, whether in terms of the crew or other factors, none of them were on par with theirs.

The final conclusion was that during this Spring Festival season, they would undoubtedly outperform all other movies in the same period.

And now, “outperforming” had happened.

Unfortunately, it was “Cultivator” outperforming them.

When Xie Wan Zhao initially analyzed the competitors, she did pay attention to “Cultivator.” After all, the previous “live broadcast of the celestial palace” was so popular, and various cultivation-themed works paved the way for the movie.

However, after careful calculations and analysis, “cultivator” wasn’t seen as a threat.

So what if the investment was high? If an experienced boss in the film industry (like her) had invested such a large sum, it would be different. There would be a high chance the movie would become a hit.

But with Sheng Quan…

Young, inexperienced, a rich second-generation—she had all the elements of failure.

Yes, the movie she invested in, “Life’s Journey,” was a hit. But television series and movies were different. “Life’s Journey” could at least be considered a comedy, while “Cultivator”?

A chilly and explosive cultivation theme

Regardless of how many cultivation novels, manga, or music Sheng Quan produced, it was still different from a real movie. A movie should make people willing to spend money to watch it.

“Cultivator” prematurely released the celestial palace and created so many cultivation-themed works to hype up the genre. Others might think this was brilliant marketing, but Xie Wan Zhao and the others believed it was simply digging their own grave.

After all, the profit from a movie doesn’t entirely go to the investors once the box office is tallied. After deducting the Film Industry Special Fund and Special Business Tax, along with agent fees, what’s left is the net box office.

And the net box office isn’t divided equally among the investors.

First, the cinemas take around fifty percent, then the distribution companies take about seven percent.

The publishing company takes a share.

The production company, represented by the investors, can only take about forty percent.

The larger the investment in the movie, the harder it is to break even. Sheng Quan, spending a huge sum to build ten celestial palaces and investing over $300 million, was a net investment.

In Xie Wan Zhao’s eyes, this was not just playing with fire; it was self-immolation.

Therefore, even though “Cultivator” had tremendous momentum, she had no intention of avoiding it. Instead, she planned to sit securely on the fishing platform with the attitude of a “victor.”

At that time, Xie Wan Zhao had even thought about how to console the young Sheng Dong. She planned to invite her to participate in the next major event at their company.

What? Not mocking her a bit?

Joking!

Who would have trouble with a big gold master with too much money?

Xie Wan Zhao even felt a certain fondness for Sheng Quan, as if she were a magnanimous and benevolent elder, observing a young and inexperienced junior with a touch of amusement.

She could see that Sheng Quan genuinely wanted to make a good movie. While Xie Wan Zhao laughed at the innocence of this young person, she couldn’t help but feel a bit nostalgic. After all, she too had been passionate and eager to do well when she was young.

However, people had to grow up, and the market was tough. Making a successful movie in China was akin to rowing against the current, and at times, it felt like an uphill battle not worth fighting.

Take, for example, “Iron-Blooded Boss” this time. It was a risky comedy, with celebrities in the cast. The money was mainly spent on hiring stars, and while the quality was not exceptional, it was decent. After release, it would undoubtedly earn a tidy profit, and the risks were minimized.

In contrast, “Cultivator” had risks pushed to the maximum.

Then, this seemingly impossible-to-stage comeback movie unexpectedly soared at the box office.

Xie Wan Zhao was, after all, a businessperson. After being overtaken, she almost immediately withdrew the slight goodwill she had for Sheng Quan.

After all, one could extend kindness to the loser who lost to them, but being the loser themselves was a different matter.

After a week of turmoil, Xie Wan Zhao had to admit that a comeback was impossible.

“Cultivator” was unstoppable.

The whole company had spent a year and a half of time, energy, and money. They had pulled countless strings to secure celebrities. Despite having a scenario that should have ensured victory, they now had to accept that the box office would not reach the expected results.

Xie Wan Zhao could accept this reasonably well. The film industry was inherently unpredictable, and this failure wouldn’t be too detrimental to her.

But that didn’t stop her from taking pleasure in the misfortune of seeing Sheng Quan’s blunder when selling merchandise in stock!

Being surpassed by a junior and then seeing that junior make such a basic mistake—how could she resist feeling secretly pleased?

With this kind of clandestine joy, Xie Wan Zhao went to sleep. The next day, after leisurely finishing breakfast and handling a couple of tasks pushed from yesterday, she went for a walk.

Returning home, she opened “Cultivator” merchandising’s official website with the mentality of “let me witness the failure of the younger generation.”

After all, Sheng Quan was indeed young. Merchandising for a movie—something like this—would need a pre-sale to be reliable.

How could you directly sell merchandise in such large quantities?

These kinds of items, if they didn’t sell, would just be a pure loss. When she checked yesterday, the quantity was truly astonishing.

Xie Wan Zhao, holding a cup of warm water, shifted her gaze slowly to the screen.

Now that a night has passed, they should have only sold about… sold out?!!

She almost sprayed out the water.

Xie Wan Zhao stopped drinking, put down the cup, and scrolled down the page with the mouse.

Sold out, sold out, still sold out.

There were rows of merchandise in stock, almost all sold out.