Laila only found out the next day what Roy had posted on Weibo.
While touched, she was also genuinely happy.
"Thank you, Roy," she whispered, hugging him from behind—wrapping both him and little Eli in her arms.
She had changed.
From someone who once lived and breathed filmmaking, she had gradually become someone who now valued being with family even more. Her love for film hadn't lessened in the slightest, but the importance of her family had grown steadily in her heart. She wasn't sure what kind of impact this shift would have on her future—but at least for now, she felt truly content.
Roy, holding Eli—with one arm supporting his little bottom—gently patted Laila's hand.
"Never thank me, my queen. Though it's a shame—I wanted to help promote your movie on Weibo, but somehow the conversation just... went in a completely different direction."
He was a bit helpless about it. The fans here were enthusiastic and kind—but they derailed threads faster than he could keep up with. And he didn't want to make the promotion feel forced, for fear of upsetting her. The result? He completely lost control of the narrative, and his subtle promotion attempt flopped.
Laila couldn't help but laugh.
"You've got a lot to learn when it comes to promotion. Interested in shadowing the marketing team at the company for a bit?"
Roy thought about it, then shook his head.
"Probably not my thing. But I did enjoy designing the fight choreography for Black Widow last time."
"You did great," Laila said sincerely. She never held back praise when it was deserved.
And he really had done well. Even though his role was limited to choreographing for Black Widow alone, no one could deny how outstanding his work was. In the film, the way she moved—flexible yet powerful, elegant yet lethal—captivated countless fans, turning her into a goddess in the hearts of many. And wasn't one of the main reasons people loved her precisely because of how brilliantly she'd been portrayed in the movie?
The tailored fight choreography fully showcased the beauty of female strength. In Laila's mind, Roy had gone far beyond her expectations.
What neither of them realized at that moment was—despite Roy believing he'd failed to promote the film—he had, in fact, succeeded.
Because of him, the trending topic of "showing off your relationship" had once again dragged The Avengers into the spotlight.
And as more and more people read the things he said, they were "emotionally triggered."
Countless couples bought tickets to The Avengers, treating it as a romantic date, hoping that the love between Laila and Roy might rub off on them too, so they could be happy together forever.
And so, in this strange, almost surreal atmosphere, the film's box office began to rise again—unexpectedly and dramatically.
Even more astonishing was that when this news made it back to the West, countries where the film was still showing also began to see a resurgence in ticket sales. Rumors even began circulating:
"If a couple watches this movie together, their relationship will last forever."
Laila found the idea bizarre enough, let alone Roy. But neither of them minded. In fact, they were more than happy to see this phenomenon, even if they had no idea why it was happening.
"I've heard of couples doing rituals to strengthen their bond," Roy mused as he read the articles, "like touching sacred stones or tying things to trees… but this is the first time I've heard watching a movie could do the trick."
"It's kind of cute, don't you think?" Laila smiled, her eyes curving into half-moons. "Everyone deserves to chase after happiness."
Whether it was love or wealth, as long as they didn't hurt others, people had every right to pursue what made them happy.
Hadn't she always chased after film—if only for that intoxicating satisfaction of seeing a movie light up the screen?
Like now—for instance—the ever-climbing box office figures filled her with an indescribable sense of fulfillment.
Each day, millions of people were glued to the live box office updates for The Avengers, watching the number shrink—
From over 20 million away from the record,
to just over 10 million,
Then down to just a few million.
In Asia, some countries had started screening the film later than others, so while the U.S. market was already wrapping up, other regions were still going strong and collecting that final wave of revenue.
At this point, Hollywood and the entire film industry could no longer sit still.
It wasn't about whether Laila could beat the record anymore—
It was about how much she would beat it.
That's right—no one believed she would fail anymore.
Because with just a few million dollars left to go, and a global fanbase as vast as Laila's, pushing the numbers higher was almost effortless.
Let's not forget—Blood Diamond's box office had also been pushed over the line thanks to fans. By genre alone, that movie had no business making $400 million globally. Hitting $100 million would've already been impressive.
And then, in early October, The Avengers officially crossed $3 billion.
Avatar, after breaking the $3 billion mark, had only earned a bit more beyond that.
But when The Avengers finally completed its global run, it ended up beating Avatar by just a few million dollars—no more, no less.
Some countries still had the film playing, so the final total wasn't locked in yet.
But the moment the media confirmed Avatar had lost its #1 spot, a frenzy of headlines exploded worldwide.
"She Did It—She's the Greatest Director Alive. She Is Laila Moran."
"The Avengers Tops the Charts, Becomes the Highest-Grossing Film in History."
"An Electrifying Victory—She Proved That All the Doubt and Slander Were Unfounded."
Praises flooded global media, from mainstream news to industry publications.
Last year, when Avatar crossed $3 billion, it triggered a global sensation.
But now? Laila wasn't just matching that buzz—she was surpassing it.
It had everything to do with how The Avengers had been introduced to the world.
When Avatar was preparing to release, even James Cameron—confident as he was—never dared claim, publicly, that it would reach $3 billion.
Even now, that number still felt unrealistically high.
So Cameron got to enjoy the glory of making history without bearing the pressure of having to do it.
But Laila? She was different.
From day one, she had said clearly—she was going to beat Avatar. She was coming for the top spot in box office history.
Everyone knew what #1 meant—$3 billion.
At the time, not even Titanic's $1.8 billion had been surpassed by anyone. So for her to declare such an audacious goal, how much ridicule did she face?
But now, looking back,
the people who once laughed at her had become the joke.
And she had used her sheer capability to create a record-breaking miracle.