Hollywood, I became a legend with special effects.

Chapter 87 Netflix Eats Ice Cream (4th Update)

November 10, Santa Monica, Light Chaser Animations North American headquarters conference room.

Mornings in Los Angeles always begin with sunshine and sea breeze.

In an office building by Santa Monica Beach, David frowned at his computer screen, which displayed a detailed financial analysis report about a company called Netflix.

“Boss, I still don’t understand.” David scratched his brown curly hair, a gesture that made him look more like a confused golden retriever. “Netflix’s net profit last year was only $4100 million, its market value was $28 billion, and its P/E ratio is almost 70. And they’re shifting from DVD rentals to streaming. How much money will that transformation burn? Those vultures on Wall Street are saying Hastings has gone crazy.”

Jiang Yu leaned against the large glass window of the conference room, watching the men and women jogging on the beach outside, and slowly took a sip of coffee.

"David, do you know what Apple's price-to-earnings ratio was in 2005?"

"Hmm... more than twenty times?"

"No, it's five times." Jiang Yu turned around and drew a simple chart on the whiteboard in the conference room: "2005"

In 2000, Apple launched the iPod nano, with its stock price around $40 and a market capitalization of $40 billion. At the time, many analysts said that Apple was just an MP3 player seller, and that once the MP3 market was saturated, Apple's reign was over.

He drew a steep upward line on the whiteboard: "And the result? Two years later, the iPhone was released, and Apple's market value surpassed $1000 billion in 2007. Today, in 2009, Apple's market value exceeds $1200 billion."

David blinked. "So you mean—"

"What I mean is, don't use today's financial report to judge tomorrow's value." Jiang Yu put down his marker and walked to the conference table. "Netflix is ​​indeed losing money right now, and it is indeed burning money to transform. What are they burning money on?"

The money isn't being spent on marketing or executive salaries, but on content and technology; it's about creating original content and building a global streaming platform.

"But isn't that gambling?" David still didn't understand. "If streaming is the future, why don't the six major Hollywood studios make their own? Why are Disney and Warner Bros. still watching and waiting?"

[Remember the fastest online novel website: 20 ...

"Because large companies have path dependencies," Jiang Yu laughed. "Disney has cable television networks, Warner Bros. has theatrical distribution, and Sony has Blu-ray business. Their existing businesses are profitable, so why would they risk revolutionizing themselves? It's like a horse-drawn carriage company won't voluntarily build cars, even if cars are the future."

He sat down, opened his laptop, and pulled up a document: "I can tell you, streaming media is the future. In the next ten years, global internet bandwidth will increase tenfold, smartphone penetration will exceed 50%, and people will become increasingly accustomed to watching videos on their phones and computers. Cinemas won't disappear, but streaming media will become mainstream."

David looked at the data and charts, his brow gradually relaxing: "So, boss, you mean—"

"I want Light Chaser Animation to be a participant in the streaming era, not a bystander," Jiang Yu said. "I don't plan to follow Netflix's model and compete head-on with them in the US market; it's too difficult. I want to take a different path."

"What road?"

Jiang Yu wrote three words on the whiteboard: "Technology, Content, Channels".

Netflix has a technological advantage, but its content is just starting out, and its distribution channels are only in the US. What we need to do is:

First, we'll invest in Netflix, becoming a strategic shareholder and sharing in its globalization benefits. Second, domestically, we use Kuaibo for our technology, Light Chaser Animation for our content, and as for distribution channels—”

He paused, then gave a meaningful smile: "It will be soon."

David's eyes lit up: "You mean—"

"You'll find out soon enough." Jiang Yu glanced at his watch. "Hastins and the others should be arriving soon. Remember the key points of today's negotiations: We want to become a major shareholder of Netflix, but not a board seat; we only want strategic partnership rights. We want deep cooperation on data and content, not control."

"Understood." David nodded. "What about the House of Cards project?"

"That was our stepping stone," Jiang Yu said. "Netflix wanted to create original content, but didn't know what to do. We gave them a perfect solution: a mature political drama, a top-tier cast willing to participate, and a complete business model. We showed them that Light Chaser Entertainment could not only provide funding, but also the ability to produce content."

Just then, the receptionist called: "Mr. Jiang, Mr. Hastings and Mr. Sarandos from Netflix have arrived."

"

"Please have them come to Conference Room Number One."

Five minutes later, in Conference Room Number One.

Reed Hastings wore a light gray polo shirt today and looked a few years younger than his actual age.

Behind him was Chief Content Officer Ted Sarandos, both men exhibiting typical Silicon Valley style: casual, relaxed, and...

Direct and straightforward, without much formality.

"Mr. Jiang, it's an honor to meet you." Hastings shook hands with Jiang Yu, his smile hearty. "I've seen the special effects that Light & Shadow Digital did for Avatar, and they were truly stunning. I didn't expect you to be interested in streaming media as well."

"I'm interested in any technology that can change the way content is distributed," Jiang Yu said with a smile. "Please have a seat."

After they were seated, Hastings got straight to the point: "I've looked at the cooperation proposal David sent us, and it's very—"

That's bold. But I'm wondering, why Netflix? Why not just make your own Netflix?

Jiang Yu laughed: "Because there's no need to reinvent the wheel. Netflix has a mature technology platform, global ambitions, and ten years of operational experience. We, on the other hand, have content production capabilities and capital. Cooperation is more valuable than competition."

"But we are not familiar with the Chinese market," Sarandos said bluntly. "China's policy environment,

User habits, content moderation—these are all very complex.

"So you need a localized partner," Jiang Yu continued, "and Light Chaser Pictures is the most suitable partner. We have a complete production team in China, extensive government relations, and a deep understanding of the local market. More importantly, we are patient; we know that the Chinese market needs time to cultivate and we won't rush things."

Hastings and Sarandos exchanged a glance.

"So what are your demands?" Hastings asked. "If you're just a content provider for us, you don't really need such a complicated cooperation plan."

Jiang Yu gestured to David to turn on the projector.

The curtain fell, revealing a detailed PowerPoint presentation.

"Our goal is simple: to become a strategic shareholder of Netflix and your exclusive content partner in China and Asia."

Jiang Yu picked up a laser pointer. "Specifically, Light Chaser Holdings will invest $3 million to acquire a 10% stake in Netflix, becoming its second-largest institutional shareholder. At the same time, Netflix will grant Light Chaser Pictures exclusive operating rights in Asia, allowing us to develop streaming products suitable for the Chinese market based on Netflix's technology."

"And what about the content?" Sarandos asked.

"In terms of content, we have an existing collaborative project."

Jiang Yu switched to a new PowerPoint presentation, which displayed the words "House of Cards" in large print. "This is a political drama that our North American writing team is developing, adapted from the British novel of the same name. We have a complete first-season script, a top-tier cast willing to participate, and a detailed market analysis report."

Sarandos was visibly surprised: "You guys are developing it? We're discussing this internally too, and we're still in the early research stages—"

"Then why don't you take a look at our proposal?" Jiang Yu smiled and handed over a thick document.

Hastings took the document and quickly flipped through it.

The more he looked, the more serious his expression became.

This plan is incredibly detailed, including plot summaries for each episode, personality analyses of the main characters, profiles of the target audience, and even the budget and filming schedule.

Most importantly, the plan proposes a completely new business model: releasing the entire season's content at once, allowing users to watch it continuously.

"Release it all at once?" Hastings looked up. "This is completely different from our traditional weekly broadcast model."

.

"That's the advantage of streaming media," Jiang Yu said. "Users don't need to wait; they can binge-watch an entire season on a weekend. This creates a strong social effect; friends discuss the plot, and social media becomes a hot topic, driving even more viewers."

He paused, then added, "Furthermore, we can use user viewing data to guide the creative process. For example, where users pause, fast-forward, and repeatedly watch—this data can tell us what the audience likes and dislikes. The production of the next season can then be optimized based on this data."

After he finished speaking, Hastings' eyes lit up.

This is precisely the question he has been pondering: how to use data to guide content creation.

Netflix has user data, but this data is currently only used in recommendation algorithms and has not yet been truly used in the content creation process.

"This idea—it's very creative." Hastings closed the file. "But it's also very risky. If users don't like it, then the entire season's investment will be wasted."

"So we need a top-notch creative team," Jiang Yu said. "We've already contacted David Fincher, who is willing to direct the first two films. Kevin Spacey has also expressed interest in the lead role of Frank Underwood."

With our writing team and Light Chaser Animation's production capabilities, this project has a high chance of success.

The meeting room was silent for a few seconds.

Hastings and Sarandos exchanged a few words in hushed tones, then Hastings looked up: "Mr. Jiang, I am personally very interested in this cooperation proposal. However, Netflix is ​​a publicly traded company, and we need board approval, which involves a complicated process."

"I understand." Jiang Yu nodded. "We can proceed step by step. First, we can use 'House of Cards' as a pilot project to conduct co-production. If it's successful, we can then move on to equity cooperation. This way, the risks are more manageable for both parties."

"This suggestion makes a good point," Sarandos said. "We can sign a project cooperation agreement first and see how it goes."

"What about the equity partnership part?" David asked.

Hastings thought for a moment: "If the first season of 'House of Cards' performs as expected, we can start negotiations for an equity partnership. We can discuss the specific terms in detail later."

Jiang Yu smiled, stood up, and extended his hand: "Then it's settled. It'll be a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Hastings."

"It's a pleasure working with you."

The moment they shook hands, Jiang Yu knew that he had already made a crucial move in the grand game of streaming media.

After the meeting, Jiang Yu and David stood on the rooftop of the office building, watching the sunset over Santa Monica Beach.

The setting sun over the sea looked like a giant orange-red fireball, slowly sinking below the horizon.

The sky was dyed in a gradient of gold, orange, and purple, a breathtakingly beautiful sight.

"Boss, I'm still a little worried," David said. "What if House of Cards fails? Then our collaboration with Netflix will fall through."

Jiang Yu laughed: "David, do you believe in data?"

"Of course I believe it."

"Then let me tell you some data." Jiang Yu turned around and leaned against the railing. "In the United States, more than 5000 million households subscribe to cable TV, paying around $100 a month. Netflix's streaming service, on the other hand, only costs $7.99 a month. Which do you think users will choose in the long run?"

David was stunned.

"More importantly," Jiang Yu continued, "cable TV has hundreds of channels, but users only actually watch a few. Netflix, on the other hand, can recommend content based on user preferences. This is a fundamental difference in experience."

"But content production is expensive," David said. "A season of 'House of Cards' might have a budget of $100 million, and if viewers don't buy it—"

"So we need to focus on creating the right content," Jiang Yu said. "House of Cards will be a success, I'm confident of that. And this is just the beginning. In the future, we'll have Orange Is the New Black, Stranger Things, The Crown—we'll become Netflix's most important content provider."

He said this in a calm but firm tone.

David looked at his boss's profile and suddenly felt that the man in front of him seemed to be able to see the future.

"Boss, you can be really scary sometimes," David said half-jokingly, "like you know exactly what's going to happen in the future."

Jiang Yu smiled but didn't reply.

He certainly knew what the future held.

He knew that House of Cards would become a milestone in the streaming era, that Netflix would become a giant with a market value of over $4000 billion in ten years, and that streaming media would completely change the global content industry landscape.

He could only plan step by step, making it all appear as the result of business foresight and strategic insight.

"Let's go." Jiang Yu patted David on the shoulder. "It's my treat tonight, let's celebrate."

"What are we celebrating?"

"Celebrating that we have just launched a revolution."

As the two were going downstairs, Jiang Yu's phone rang.

It was a text message from Liu Yifei: "How was today? I just finished here, I'm exhausted. The director said I can rest for half a day and film again tomorrow."

Jiang Yu checked the time; it was 5 PM.

He replied, "Just finished a meeting, it went very smoothly. Where are you? I'll come find you."

A few seconds later, a reply came: "At the hotel. I want to eat ice cream, but I have to do it secretly so the nutritionist doesn't find out."

A pitiful emoji was added after it.

Jiang Yu smiled and said to David, "Go back and prepare the contract first, I have something to do."

David winked knowingly. "Got it, boss. Say hello to Crystal for me."

The Four Seasons Hotel in Beverly Hills.

Liu Yifei opened the door wearing a loose cotton T-shirt and sweatpants, her hair still wet, as if she had just taken a shower.

Her face was completely bare of makeup, her skin was radiant, and there were slight dark circles under her eyes.

"You actually came?" Her eyes lit up as she looked at the paper bag in Jiang Yu's hand.

"If you promise, you have to keep your word." Jiang Yu entered the house, placed the paper bag on the small coffee table, took out an insulated bag from it, and then took out two ice cream cups. "Gelato, Italian handmade gelato. This one is chocolate hazelnut, and this one is vanilla caramel. They're both low-fat, so the nutritionist shouldn't scold you."

Liu Yifei took the spoon, scooped out a big mouthful of chocolate hazelnuts and stuffed it into her mouth, squinting her eyes contentedly: "Ah—I'm alive again. You have no idea, Director Darren requires us to weigh ourselves every day, not even a pound more. I dreamt of eating ice cream, and when I woke up I found my pillow soaked, I don't know if it was saliva or tears."

Jiang Yu was amused by her: "Is it really that exaggerated?"

"Yes!" Liu Yifei took another big bite. "Try eating boiled chicken breast and lettuce salad for three months straight, with only a tiny bit of salad dressing. My sense of taste is almost gone; everything tastes salty now."

Jiang Yu sat down on the sofa opposite her, watching her childishly eat ice cream, and suddenly felt a sense of warmth.

In the world of Hollywood, a place of fame and fortune, it's truly rare to see someone shed all pretenses and be their authentic self.

"By the way, did your meeting go well?" Liu Yifei asked. "I heard from David that you were discussing a collaboration with Netflix?"

"Yes, it's a deal," Jiang Yu said. "We'll start with a collaboration on the 'House of Cards' project as a pilot. If it goes well, we'll move on to a more in-depth strategic partnership."

"House of Cards? A political drama?" Liu Yifei tilted her head. "Would this kind of subject matter be allowed to air in China?"

"If it can't be broadcast domestically, it can be broadcast overseas," Jiang Yu said. "Moreover, what we want to do is not just this show. We want to use this show to prove that Light Chaser Pictures has the ability to produce top-notch American dramas and the ability to distribute content globally."

Liu Yifei nodded thoughtfully: "So you're planning to launch a streaming media service?"

"Yes." Jiang Yu looked at her with some surprise. "You know about this?"

"I'm in the entertainment industry, you know," Liu Yifei rolled her eyes at him. "These past few years, everyone's been talking about DVDs..."

If this doesn't work, we'll have to watch everything online from now on. Nobody knows exactly how that will work. Are you thinking of creating a Chinese streaming platform?

"To be more precise, it's about creating a streaming platform suitable for China," Jiang Yu said. "Netflix's model is excellent, but it can't be directly copied to China. China's internet environment, user habits, and content censorship system are all different from those in the United States. What we need to do is absorb Netflix's technology and experience to create products that Chinese users like."

Liu Yifei finished her ice cream, placed the empty cup on the table, and sat cross-legged on the sofa: "It sounds so complicated. You have to create content, do the technology, and understand the market—aren't you tired?"

"It's tiring," Jiang Yu laughed, "but it's interesting. You know, sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and think about how what I'm doing might change the entire industry and affect the way hundreds of millions of people entertain themselves, and I get so excited that I can't sleep."

His eyes shone as he said this.

Looking at him, Liu Yifei suddenly realized that the person in front of her was quite different from the young man who had been chatting and laughing on the set of "The Forbidden Kingdom" a year ago.

He became more mature, more determined, and more powerful.

That inherent idealism, that passion to change the world, hasn't changed at all.

"Jiang Yu." She suddenly called his name very seriously.

"Um?"

"You will succeed," Liu Yifei said. "I don't know why, but I just have this feeling. All the things you've done, all the future plans you've made, will definitely come true."

Jiang Yu paused for a moment, then smiled: "Thank you for your trust."

"It's not trust, it's intuition." Liu Yifei smiled as well. "A woman's intuition is very accurate."

The two chatted for a long time, from streaming media to movies, from Hollywood to China, from work to life.

As darkness fell outside the window, the lights of Los Angeles began to illuminate the city.

Finally, Liu Yifei yawned and glanced at her watch: "Ah, it's already nine o'clock. Have you eaten?"

"not yet."

"Then I'll treat you." Liu Yifei stood up. "The steak at the restaurant downstairs is pretty good, and they have private rooms where you won't get photographed."

Jiang Yu looked at her: "Aren't you afraid of being photographed?"

"I'm scared," Liu Yifei winked mischievously, "so we have to do it secretly."

At that moment, Jiang Yu suddenly felt that perhaps some things didn't need to be defined in a hurry.

Taking it slow like this is fine too.