HuaYu: The most muscular director in history!

Chapter 112 #First Year of Xiangnan# Begins!

1 month 1 day.

At 7 p.m., filming for "John Wick" continued in a villa in a retro neighborhood in Manhattan, New York.

A camera was set up in the dark basement, positioned very low, its lens fixed on the empty stairwell.

"Knock knock knock one"

Heavy footsteps approached, and Xiang Nan, wearing a white T-shirt and carrying a hammer, slowly walked down.

His collar was stained with undried blood, the bloodstains particularly noticeable on his white T-shirt. The dim lighting obscured his face, but as he moved, a pair of eyes could be vaguely seen gleaming menacingly in the darkness.

"Screech—Unit Two, propulsion, maintain angle, yes, yes, yes!"

In front of the monitor in the director's area, Li Cai held a walkie-talkie in one hand and a note of instructions written to him by Xiang Nan in the other.

Liu Yifei sat on a high stool next to him, wrapped in a light beige jacket, holding a half-finished cup of AD calcium milk in her hand.

She was chewing on a straw, her legs dangling leisurely.

In her line of sight, Big Wood started grabbing the hammer again. He had been doing it for ten minutes already, but unfortunately, that footage was no longer usable.

"Sigh, I wonder how much longer."

"Cut!"

The thought had barely formed in his mind when Li Cai picked up the walkie-talkie and called a halt to the film crew.

"Director Xiang".

"Director Xiang!"

The staff along the way greeted him, and Xiang Nan nodded as he walked to the monitor.

He read it three times before finally picking up the walkie-talkie.

"knock off!"

"knock off"

"Um----"

A group of behind-the-scenes staff began packing up, while Xiang Nan breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at Little Pudding: "Let's go?"

"Remove my makeup?"

"okk!"

Yifei landed with a small jump, grabbed Xiang Nan's T-shirt, and walked towards the dressing room.

Such actions have long been a daily routine for the two of them.

The filming progress of "John Wick" is quite touching.

If Xiang Nan hadn't been so meticulous, he could have finished everything in a month and a half.

Today is New Year's Day in China, a traditional festival that is very important to every Chinese citizen.

It is also very important to Xiang Nan.

After removing her makeup and packing her things, Xiang Nan took Yi Fei back to the villa.

The cottage was different today; it was brightly lit, and you could hear a lot of people talking as soon as you stepped into the yard.

"Click"

The door opened, and Yifei changed her shoes, glancing around the inner room.

"Mom! I'm home."

"So what if you're back?"

As they were talking, Liu's mother appeared, carrying a large plate of fruit as she walked out of the kitchen.

"You've eaten, haven't you?"

"Yes, Auntie."

Xiang Nan took two steps to Liu's mother, took the fruit, and walked towards the sofa.

Seeing how easily Xiang Nan did it, Chen Yaochuan on the sofa gave him a thumbs up.

"Here, have some fruit. Manman, help yourself."

"Okay, Brother Nan."

There were three people on the sofa: an assistant named Feng Man, Chen Yaochuan, and a data clerk.

After placing the fruit on the coffee table, Xiang Nan beckoned to Yi Fei behind him, and the two of them sat down on the sofa opposite the three of them.

"Is it on sale yet?"

"Sales start at 8:00, and it'll be 8:30 soon; the data will be transmitted soon."

"Hmm." Xiang Nan picked up an apple, took out a knife, and started peeling it.

On the sofa, Chen Yaochuan, already used to Xiang Nan's composure, ate grapes while looking at the message interface on his computer.

"bite"

I just saw a picture being sent to me.

"They're here."

Chen Yaochuan gestured with his lips, and the data clerk, Xiao Huang, immediately clicked on the image and read aloud: "Currently, only domestic sales figures are available. 'The King of the Era' sold ————"

Xiao Huang rubbed his eyes, moved the mouse to zoom in on the image, and looked at it again: "4.6 images."

"Hiss!"

Chen Yaochuan's eyes widened; he could hardly believe his ears.

"Are you sure? Is it 10,000? Is it one hour? Not one day?"

"It's one hour!"

"Holy crap!" Chen Yaochuan stood up excitedly, then paused and realized it wasn't right, so he clenched his fists and sat down.

"Wow, that's incredible! Forty thousand an hour, that's eight hundred thousand in twenty-four hours? My God!"

"You're overthinking it," Xiang Nan's voice rang out.

He broke open an apple, put half of it into Little Pudding's mouth, and then turned to look at Brother Chuan across from him: "The general rule for selling song albums is that the initial price is higher because the audience has higher expectations. Unless it's a new singer but the song quality is very high."

Yifei, who was standing to the side, chewed and nudged Xiang Nan's arm with her elbow: "Just like the first time?"

"Yes."

Xiang Nan nodded, then lifted his big foot and crossed his legs.

"Brother Chuan, don't get too excited. Let things take their course."

"Tch!" Chen Yaochuan disliked Xiang Nan's attitude.

They treat music and film as mere tools, without any sense of professional pride whatsoever.

"The sales figures from Japan are out." Xiao Huang looked up again.

Chen Yaochuan quickly turned his head: "How much?"

Xiao Huang raised his hand and made a peace sign: "Twenty thousand copies. According to data analysis from domestic companies like Xing Nanfei and Sony, it's probably because there aren't many Japanese songs sold; otherwise, the sales might be even more insane than in China."

"Look at you, look at you, why do you have to do this bundled sales?"

Chen Yaocuan brought up this matter again.

Xiang Nan has been annoyed by him for the past few months.

Chen Yaochuan is, after all, a Taiwanese, so it's normal that he doesn't understand some of Xiang Nan's actions.

Xiang Nan insisted on bundling the sale of his vocational school album with other albums, claiming that 10% of the sales were for promoting Chinese songs and the other 10% were for currying favor with certain leaders in China.

Talk is cheap; what does it matter if Xiang Nan sacrifices some album sales just to impress Tong Ju?

"The sales figures for South Korea are out."

"How many?"

This time, Xiao Huang made a three.

"Thirty thousand?" Chen Yaochuan was stunned.

Do you have many fans in South Korea?

Xiang Nan shrugged, indicating that he didn't know.

In fact, Xiang Nan has quite a few fans in South Korea.

Like some island nations, the Korean people have been manipulated by America and have a certain admiration for strength.

Xiang Nan's influence is considerable throughout Asia. He just doesn't work out often and doesn't realize how popular his "real man" persona is.

In South Korea, a country where the average man's height is only 3 centimeters, it's common for men to lose their masculine charm. Even playing basketball requires showing off by ripping off their clothes. This kind of superficial sexiness isn't true sexiness.

What, then, is true sexiness?

Xiang Nan's touch on someone's face is undeniably sexy.

"The North American ones are out too."

"How many?"

"Uh—" Xiao Huang scratched his face, his eyes full of embarrassment.

"Speak."

"One thousand three hundred and twenty-four."

"Uh!" Chen Yaochuan fell silent, then gave Xiang Nan another resentful look.

That look left Xiang Nan completely bewildered.

"Don't do this, Brother Chuan, I'm scared."

"You're afraid of chicken feathers! It's all because of your bundled sales tactics!"

Xiang Nan shook his head, reached out and pulled Yi Fei, who was munching on an apple, into his arms.

The latter blinked cutely twice, without offering any objections.

"Brother Chuan, let the song soar for a bit. I'm a newbie here in North America!"

Chen Yaocuan's expression froze for a moment. As if he had thought of something, he leaned forward and asked, "You mean, the model for your first album is here in North America?"

"right!"