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Chapter 600 - Who’s Responsible For The Construction Work?



Chapter 600: Who’s Responsible For The Construction Work?

In merely three days’ time, White Fox made over ten billion at the box office, and professional box office analysts predicted thirty billion by the time the film stops screening. The current box office number-one film was a foreign film, and had been holding the title for two years. To many, it stuck out like a sore thumb.

For a big nation with 14 billion population, it was a humiliation to have the box office number-one position taken away by a foreign film. What China needed was a film that could supersede it, whether through astounding FX or overwhelmingly-positive reviews. They had to take back the position and reclaim the first spot; it didn’t matter who, as long as it was a local production.

On the fourth day of New Year, the box office income matched the five billion on the third day.

Seventeen billion in four days. The numbers were staggering.

On the fifth day, the film reeled in two billion.

Same for the sixth day.

At this point, the movie had made around twenty billion.

And people all across the country had their eyes on the box office ranking of White Fox.

It was as though the film was setting a new record every day. Perhaps they could even call it the Year of The White Fox.

The four other New Year films, even when added up, couldn’t beat the box office earnings of White Fox in a day. The cinemas kept adding additional shows, and White Fox’s dominance persisted. At the same time, the film had received overwhelmingly positive reviews from audiences overseas.

A month later, the earnings of the film went back to normal. Of course, as new films were rolling in, the market pretty much stabilized.

Even so, the movie went on screening for around one extra month.

By now, White Fox had broken the record of the previous box office number-one holder with an impressive 33 billion and claimed the crown with a convincing victory.

Before this, there were people leaning towards foreign countries claiming that no films would beat the record of that foreign masterpiece in ten years, and even if any films did, it would be another foreign film.

And now, heh, all of those people were tagged out and shamed. It was a moment of victory for the Chinese as they released their pent-up anger.

Yan Huan’s investment ended up being a huge success as well. In the end, she earned around 20 billion, including advertisement earnings.

Yan Huan took out two billion to build a skyscraper, and another billion to repossess the Lu estate.

Lu Jin was eager to see his antiques. The Lu estate had been vacant for a year or so, and the interior was filled with dust. The door to the study, where the antiques were stored, was locked shut. After reclaiming the house, Lu Jin didn’t allow anyone to touch his antiques. Rolling up his sleeves, he threw himself into cleaning work.

Lu Yi put a paper hat (folded from newspapers) on Yan Huan’s head, and said,

“There, now let’s get to work.”

“Okay, I’ll work hard,” said Yan Huan. She tapped her broom against Lu Yi’s, and the two began to clean. Right now, Yan Huan was very much a commoner and not a superstar.

When she opened Lu Jin’s study, she was greeted by the smell of dust. The antiques, locked in chests, remained unimpaired.

“My antiques! My paintings!” cried Lu Jin. Without caring about hygiene, he wrapped his arms around the chests. Carefully, he unlocked one. Inside it was at least thirty painting scrolls.

He picked up a scroll, blew the dust off it, and sighed. “These things are treated as treasure now. Poor guy, he was never recognized in his living days, yet he became so famous after he died. With his death, all of his paintings became limited editions.”

Here I am with over thirty of his paintings, though Lu Jin, when others couldn’t get their hands on one, even if they were willing to spend. Until now, he couldn’t believe it. He would sooner believe it to be a dream, had the paintings not been before his eyes.

Mister Shen Junru had passed away, and the prices of his paintings were skyrocketing. To many, the values of the paintings weren’t in their price, but because they were avid fans of his work, which were now no longer attainable.

That’s why he planned on

taking good care of them and not giving them to anyone.

Yan Huan made a face at Lu Yi, then prodded at the wall with her broom. Suddenly, there was dust everywhere, nearly choking her in an unfortunate turn of events.

Lu Yi quickly patted the dust off her face.

“Be careful.”

Yan Huan didn’t dare admit she did it on purpose and choked on a mouthful of dust.

The housecleaning took up an entire week. Ye Shuyun moved back in as soon as they were done. She had gotten too used to living in this place after dozens of years of residence.

Lu Jin felt the same. The place had a down-to-earth air about it.

The Eastern Courtyard remained as it was, but a group of construction workers arrived at the Western Courtyard, where Lu Qin and his mother once stayed, hammering and drilling all day long.

“What’s happening over there, Mom?” asked Yan Huan. She was a little puzzled at how Ye Shuyun was calmly spending her days eating fruits and chit-chatting and watching television with Qin Xiaoyue wreaking havoc at the other side.

“Construction work,” said Ye Shuyun, taking a bite out of her apple. She fed a small piece of apple to Little Bean as well.

Ye Shuyun was the main reason behind Little Bean’s kiwi-like figure, since she fed Little Bean all kinds of stuff, and Little Bean wasn’t one to turn down food.

“Construction work?” blinked Yan Huan. “Are they doing construction work without your permission?”

“What?” said Ye Shuyun, biting another piece off the apple. “They? Oh, no, I’m the one who called in the construction team.”

Even speaking of it made her smug. If Lu Qin and his mother wanted to move back in, they would have to get past her first.

“I’m renovating the Western Courtyard for my future grandson,” she said. Then, realizing that she might have said something wrong, she quickly followed up with an explanation. “Don’t take it the wrong way, Huanhuan. You are still young. You don’t have to worry about childbirth yet. Lu Yi has also told me that you are both occupied by work and aren’t ready for a child. But, try not to go past 28, since that will make childbirth a lot more dangerous.”

“I understand, Mom,” said Yan Huan. She placed a hand on her leg and, without realizing, grasped her clothes tightly. Children, it’s not like she didn’t want them. But it has already been decided that she and Lu Yi will never have one.


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