The office of China Film Group Corporation (CFGC) was unusually quiet that morning.
It was the sort of silence that didn't come from peaceful calm, but from a storm gathering strength behind closed doors.
Inside, Han Sanping sat alone at his desk, the blinds half-drawn, scattering stripes of pale Beijing sunlight across the room.
In his hands lay a thick stack of documents—the Week 1 box office performance report for Jihoon's film Buried.
Han had been in the industry for decades.
He had seen promising rookies, arrogant prodigies, golden-child directors, and government-favored contenders come and go.
Very little shocked him anymore.
But right now?
His expression was one of pure disbelief.
Not because something terrible had happened.
But because something far better than he had ever expected had just unfolded.
He adjusted his glasses, blinked twice, and stared again at the first page.
[Weekly Box Office Report: Film Buried (Mainland Theatrical Release - Week 1)]
[Reporting Period: [02 May] - [08 May], 2008]
[Market: Mainland China]
[Total Screens: ~1,500]
[Financial Summary: Week 1 Performance]
[Week 1 Gross: $18.5 Million]
[Breakdown:]
[Opening Weekend (Fri-Sun): $15.0 Million.]
[Weekdays (Mon-Thu): $3.5 Million.]
[Performance Analysis:]
[The film opened to a strong weekend, demonstrating the potent drawing power of Director Jihoon, whose previous work, Your Name, cultivated a significant fanbase in China. The marketing campaign by China Film Group Corporation (CFGC), which heavily emphasized Jihoon's involvement, successfully mobilized his core audience, leading to a robust initial turnout. The significant drop in revenue during the weekdays (a ~77% decrease from the weekend) indicates that while the director's name guarantees a strong opening, it has primarily attracted his established fans, with broader audience appeal remaining uncertain.]
[Forecast & Projection: Weeks 2-4.]
[Based on the Week 1 performance and current market conditions, the total domestic box office gross for Buried is projected to reach approximately $25.5 million by the end of its theatrical run.]
[The projected weekly breakdown is as follows:]
[Week 2 (Forecast) ~5 Million, weekly change estimate around -73%:]
[Rationale & Key Factors: Core fanbase saturation; strong initial word-of-mouth from fans will provide a solid hold, but limited screens will cap potential.]
[Week 3 (Forecast) ~1.5 Million, weekly change estimate around -70%:]
[Rationale & Key Factors: Significant loss of screens due to new releases of film in the market; revenue sustained only in core urban markets.]
[Week 4 (Forecast) ~0.5 Million, weekly change estimate around -67%:]
[Rationale & Key Factors: Theatrical tail; extended run in key metropolitan cinemas where Jihoon's brand is strongest.]
[Total projection after full cycle ~25.5 Million US Dollar.]
The Buried box office performance report rested in Han Sanping's hands, and his expression said everything.
Astonishment. Genuine, unfiltered amazement.
He had never expected the Chinese market to integrate the Jihoon's film this smoothly.
Of course, he knew Jihoon was already a fully established, globally recognized filmmaker.
His works over the past two years had screened worldwide.
His Asian debut with Secret two years ago was a massive success, and every film that came after—especially in China—had performed exceptionally well.
From Secret to Sunny, Jihoon had released three Asian films between 2006 and 2007, all achieving strong results in the Chinese market.
But Buried was different.
This was Jihoon's first non-Asian casted film to ever enter Chinese theaters—and yet it was still performing brilliantly.
That alone made Han Sanping mutter in disbelief that Jihoon might truly be a "lucky bastard."
Technically speaking, Buried was Jihoon's first foreign-cast project to be screened in China, and achieving 18.5 million in its opening week bordered on a miracle.
No wonder Han's expression shifted from dumbfounded to energized.
To him, it wasn't just about the ticket sales.
It was the record—one that could help him climb further up the political ladder.
That was how things worked in China.
For someone working in a state-owned film organization, importing a film that energized and developed the industry became a political achievement.
And such achievement could smooth his career path.
Still buzzing with excitement, Han quickly turned to the next page of the report.
On the next page was the evaluation section—the kind of analysis major companies routinely produced.
Even a Hollywood major like 20th Century Fox would prepare something similar to assess the prospects of their releases.
Buried had been purchased through a buyout agreement with Jihoon.
Meaning: CFGC paid Jihoon's JH company and Fox upfront with a minimal sum.
All profits generated after the deal had nothing to do with Jihoon or Fox afterward.
Some people would call this agreement foolish, given that the film was predicted to reach 25.5 million, but that was only one way to look at it.
In truth, when Jihoon first proposed the buyout idea to Jim at Cannes, both of them accepted without hesitation.
Even with Jihoon's knowledge of the future from his previous life—and even with his confidence in China's potential—he was still reluctant to fully enter the market now.
China was promising, yes, but also full of risks and unknowns.
As mentioned in the previous chapter: China was a developing country.
Entering the market now could produce good results, but the resources—especially money—required to achieve those results were nearly double compared to what was needed in developed regions like America or Europe.
Jihoon simply wasn't ready.
He needed the right timing to enter China properly, and that time would come at the end of the year—after he earned enough from the impending 2008 financial crisis.
By then, he would be equipped with everything necessary to launch another endeavor abroad, just like what he accomplished in LA after leaving Seoul the year before.
Back to the report.
This page contained audience reviews collected across the country.
Because China's internet development was still slow, reviews were gathered traditionally—word of mouth, direct surveys—not like in America where online platforms were already turning reviews into viral trends.
From the feedback, Han could clearly see that the overall impression of the film was very positive.
Just like the reviews in front of him:
1. Xiaowei_89 (Beijing)
Rating: ★★★★★.
[Jihoon does it again! Went in with high expectations after 'Your Name' and was not disappointed. The way he uses the camera to make a confined space feel so vast and emotional is a masterpiece. The final scene had me in tears. A powerful story about the human spirit.]
2. CinemaLover (Shanghai)
Rating: ★★★★☆.
[A very brave and intense film. Not as romantically sweeping as 'Your Name,' but I can see it's the same director that I've love. The lead actor's performance is incredible—you feel his panic and hope. It's a bit slow in the middle, but the ending is worth it. Definitely makes you think.]
3. Maggie_FilmStudent (Guangzhou)
Rating: ★★★★★.
[This is not just a film; it's an experience. The sound design is terrifyingly good—every scrape of dirt, every breath had me on the edge of my seat. It's a claustrophobic nightmare with a deeply human heart. Jihoon is a visual poet, even when his canvas is a coffin.]
But just like how Asian people love durian and many Westerners don't, taste always differs.
Alongside the good reviews, there were also negative ones.
Like this:
4. RealTalk (Shenzhen)
Rating: ★☆☆☆☆.
[Absolutely pointless. The most pretentious film I've seen all year. The main character makes stupid decisions, the plot has more holes than the box he's in, and the 'deep' ending is just lazy. Don't believe the hype. This is why I usually avoid 'artistic' films.]
After finishing the entire report, Han Sanping wore a wide, satisfied smile.
He tapped his finger lightly on the table—a soft rhythmic sound—as if deep in thought.
After a long moment, that smile faded into something more dangerous.
Something calculated.
Anyone who knew him would recognize the expression instantly.
This was the look of a cunning fox planning his next move.
And as the gatekeeper of China's film industry, Han Sanping was not someone anyone wanted to fall into the trap of.
His tapping stopped.
He picked up his cellphone, dialed a number, and waited as the long overseas ring tone echoed through the line.
Finally, the other end picked up.
"Hello… who is this?"