014 "Taiji" Provokes Outrage Upon Viewing
The summer blockbuster season has always been fiercely contested territory.
This year’s competition was no exception—intensely heated.
Among the seven films released, the self-proclaimed crown jewel was “Taiji,” helmed by the renowned director Wang Xingxing.
Director Zhang Mou had long since made his name, and this production boasted an investment exceeding one billion yuan—a grand spectacle highly anticipated within the industry.
The premiere was attended by a distinguished gathering of guests. Even before its release, the film had already whetted the appetite of audiences across Greater Xia.
Online, the top three trending topics were all about “Taiji,” and the buzz showed no signs of waning.
Such an opportunity was not to be squandered.
The Starshine Company seized the momentum, holding simultaneous premiere events in the capital city, Shanghai, and Hong Kong.
Invitations extended beyond mainstream media to luminaries from all walks of life.
In essence, anyone who could amplify the film’s prestige had received an invite.
For a time, all of Greater Xia was abuzz!
It was like rain after a long drought.
How long had it been since Greater Xia produced a truly remarkable work?
Film enthusiasts eagerly awaited a grand audio-visual feast.
Experts conservatively predicted that on opening day, “Taiji” might well empty the streets as tens of thousands flocked to theaters.
The entire Starshine team was ecstatic, especially Wang Xingxing and Cheng Jie.
Both harbored inexplicable hopes for “Taiji,” though Wang Xingxing dreamed of promotions and raises, while Cheng Jie aspired to leap directly to partner status within Starshine.
With this conviction, they regarded the whole staff as stepping stones to greater heights.
The company zealously promoted a spirit of relentless perseverance—“No hospital visits, no retreat from the front lines.”
All employees were expected to treat the company as their home.
Put plainly, any office not illuminated past midnight risked collective dismissal!
In contrast, Galaxy Pictures, where Qian Lang worked, seemed lackluster.
Although they also espoused the “company as family” philosophy, the behavior of their manager Pei Duoduo was diametrically opposed.
She would glare at any employee staying more than a minute overtime.
You could only wonder how anyone could withstand such pressure.
Therefore, when work hours ended, the so-called “family” would sigh in unison and clock out.
Of course, this clocking out wasn’t to track attendance but to prove no overtime was done!
Yet some workaholics would try to stay even a second longer.
That was when Chen Yuanyuan, the newly appointed assistant to the chairman, would step in.
Her first act was to suppress such inhumane overtime culture.
Galaxy Pictures didn’t need such crooked practices!
If the workload was too heavy, they could simply recruit more “family” members.
This was Eden, not a battlefield.
Still, no one dared.
After all, if the company went bankrupt, what then?
They didn’t want such a heavenly company to collapse!
So all “family” members harbored a burning frustration.
During work hours, they seized every moment, never wasting a second.
Even bathroom breaks were timed with stopwatches.
Clocking out was precise—every extra second worked counted.
Efficiency soared through the roof.
They even competed to design cinema posters.
But lacking promotional hype, no matter how exquisite the posters, “Crazy Stone” remained known to only a few.
No top three trending topics, not even top ten, mentioned it.
Except for some haters, most serious film fans in Greater Xia were unaware this movie was about to release without stepping into theaters.
Overall, the movie’s popularity was dismal.
Wang Xingxing was clever.
He had long ceased hiring internet trolls.
He wouldn’t give Qian Lang’s film any chance for publicity—not even negative reviews.
After all, there’s a saying in showbiz: bad press is still press.
In short, the performances of these two films were worlds apart.
As for the other five summer releases, they fell somewhere in between.
“To Youth,” a romance directed by Li Duolu, maintained a stable fan base.
Their appeal lay in pure innocence, so the online reputation held steady.
The animated films “Green Pastures” and “Bear Anling” also had a solid group of young, faithful viewers.
Every summer blockbuster season also saw imported foreign hits.
“The Black Liquid” and “The Jester” attracted their own outgoing fan communities.
Overall, these films were all exceptional, but whether they could surpass “Taiji” was a great unknown.
After all, “Taiji” boasted a star-studded cast from Greater Xia, the Island Nation, and the Kimchi Kingdom.
The fan base spanned half the globe.
It wasn’t impossible that some starstruck fans might fly in just to boost the box office.
With tensions taut as a bowstring, the moment of truth was at hand.
Opening day of the summer blockbuster season had arrived.
Wang Xingxing waited arrogantly at the premiere venue.
He controlled the event in the capital city.
Director Zhang Mou’s next stop was Shanghai, where the premiere was hosted by Wang.
In Hong Kong, Starshine’s boss Ms. Jiang Yan delegated Wu Ping to manage the event.
Wu Ping’s film “Nighttime Lover” had garnered a loyal local following, aimed at drawing more crowds.
One must mention that to prevent pirated screenings from disrupting the market, the premiere screenings in all three cities were synchronized with the first showings in Greater Xia’s major cinemas.
It was four o’clock in the afternoon.
Though the premiere hadn’t officially begun, the venue was already packed.
Mainstream media, social elites, and film critics with millions of followers all brimmed with excitement and anticipation.
Few had ever attended such a high-profile premiere.
Although all were leaders in their fields, experiencing the occasion firsthand and feeling its grandeur was undeniably thrilling.
The film critics and social media influencers were even more ecstatic.
Starshine paid them hefty fees to hype the movie online.
Turning “Taiji” reviews into videos and pushing them on major digital platforms would generate massive traffic.
Topic trends equaled traffic, traffic equaled money.
A perfect win-win!
“Wow! It’s really lively today!”
“Starshine’s got the crown! The true king of the cinematic world!”
“Hey, who’s that young man on stage?”
Among the onlookers, industry veterans marveled at Starshine’s prowess while noticing Wang Xingxing’s presence.
“You don’t know?”
“That’s Wang Xingxing, the hottest young director at Starshine!”
“He directed ‘Chrysanthemum’!”
Thanks to enthusiastic insiders, the big names finally learned about Wang Xingxing’s dazzling resume.
“Young and formidable!”
Several veterans inhaled sharply.
Meanwhile, Wang Xingxing stood on stage, brimming with confidence.
His gaze swept haughtily over the crowd, as if he were the deity presiding over it all.
This demeanor made Cheng Jie uneasy.
Who dared to act like a big shot in his presence?
“Tone it down, be humble!”
He whispered discreetly.
Wang Xingxing’s right eyebrow twitched but showed no sign of defiance.
After all, Cheng Jie was still useful to him.
Across Starshine, apart from the rarely seen boss Jiang Yan, Cheng Jie was the only one he had to tolerate.
No matter, he was young and had time to accumulate power.
Having pushed out rivals like Qian Lang, he was now the new generation of Starshine!
Cheng Jie, however, had little room left.
Aging and still working under a young female boss, he must be stifled beyond measure.
Time flew.
At 5:18 p.m., the premiere officially began.
Cheng Jie, as part of Starshine’s management, took the stage to deliver a speech.
What should have been a brief fifteen-minute talk stretched to a full hour, rambling and meandering.
He even bypassed Wang Xingxing to personally recount behind-the-scenes anecdotes of the film’s production.
That was the director’s prerogative!
How could a manager, ignorant of the craft and only skilled in manipulating information, steal the spotlight from subordinates?
No matter how good a leader he was, the film wasn’t his creation!
Wang Xingxing sneered inwardly.
That old fellow was simply trying to snatch the glory prematurely.
Ha! He wasn’t bothered.
His online fame was already at its peak.
If he cared about such performance chances, he might as well give them away.
On stage, Cheng Jie spoke until his mouth was dry, but the audience responded with indifference.
At a premiere, the film itself was the main attraction.
Everyone there had been a leader at some point; they knew when someone was spouting nonsense.
Finally, it was Wang Xingxing’s turn to speak.
He wore a bright, sunny expression.
Grasping the microphone, he first thanked the assembled guests.
Then, with a confident flourish, he declared, “Today is a celebration of cinema, so I’ll keep it brief. Now, I present to you the epic masterpiece ‘Taiji’!”
He executed a graceful exit bow.
The lights dimmed accordingly.
Wang Xingxing felt triumphant.
This was the intoxicating power of control!
Old Cheng Jie wanted to snatch the spotlight? Let’s see if the crowd would agree!
Others may not have noticed, but the guests thought the young man quite impressive—direct, no pretenses, no shameless self-praise.
The screen lit up.
Familiar music accompanied the appearance of the Dragon Emblem.
After Starshine’s company logo, the feature presentation began.
The opening scene was striking, with stirring background music.
The audience perked up.
Wow!
No wonder this was a big production!
Their excitement surged.
The wind rose.
Bamboo leaves spun through the air like green blades.
They rustled like thousands of horses neighing or sharp hidden weapons unleashed.
The wind stirred again.
Bamboo leaves danced wildly like dragons and snakes.
The howling wind turned the skies ominous.
Silver light flashed as several heads flew into the air.
The screen darkened.
“Father! Mother!”
A child’s innocent yet anguished cries echoed.
Suddenly, the two red characters for “Taiji” appeared!
Hmm?
The opening was good, but there was a distinct martial arts vibe.
Wasn’t this supposed to be a fantasy blockbuster?
Though the audience was slightly puzzled, they gave no further thought.
At that moment, Wang Xingxing’s heart stirred.
He had insisted on including this opening.
He thought it was cool and better conveyed the protagonist’s burden of love and hate.
Indeed, the opening could impress some.
But many seasoned film critics and social media reviewers frowned deeply.
What was this?
A messy hodgepodge?
If it’s fantasy, then show the effects.
Why include realistic martial arts scenes?
How was he supposed to review this?
Honestly, without the hefty endorsement fee from “Taiji,” they wouldn’t dare lie.
Yet fans wouldn’t let them off easy.
They were truly caught between a rock and a hard place.
Still, they knew their role clearly.
Starshine invited them for the sake of their millions of followers.
If “Taiji” was terrible, they absolutely wouldn’t say a good word.
Not stepping on it a few times would be a mercy.
Park Fang sighed.
As a top film critic, he actually sided with “Taiji.”
After all, that meant two rounds of benefits.
Who would want to be at odds with money?
But just as feared, Murphy’s Law struck.
Half an hour passed.
Only a third of the film had played.
Yet the storyline incited curses from the viewers!