Live Streaming: Great Adventure in the Wilderness

Upon returning to the hotel that evening, Bi Fang was about to check his task rewards when he received another call from Wang Yongbo.

“Bi Fang, are you asleep?”

“Uh,” Bi Fang looked up at the clock and scratched his coarse chin, “Isn’t it only eight o’clock?”

“I have someone here looking for you, will you meet with him? If yes, let me know which hotel you’re at, and I’ll bring him over. It’s a major deal worth billions!”

Wang Yongbo’s tone was brimming with excitement, which puzzled Bi Fang.

A deal worth billions? And he’s coming to the hotel to find me?

Isn’t that a bit exaggerated? What kind of business deal involves billions?

I’m a decent person, I wouldn’t do or accept such deals worth billions; getting exposed would make me lose followers.

Wang Yongbo, oh Wang Yongbo, I didn’t expect a man of your robust appearance to be into this sort of thing.

After giving his address to Wang Yongbo, Bi Fang couldn’t help feeling uneasy. Should he accept or not?

If he did, he wasn’t that kind of person; if he didn’t, they were coming all the way here. It would feel rather rude to reject them just like that.

Caught in his dilemma, there was a knock on the door.

Bi Fang sighed, ultimately deciding to face reality. He wasn’t suited for this kind of thing; he was a righteous gentleman. He went to the door, took a few deep breaths, and opened it.

“Hmm?”

“Mr. Bi, hello, I’m Brandt Palliston. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Just call me Bran.”

Standing outside his room was a Caucasian man alongside Wang Yongbo, wearing a confident smile and speaking fluent Chinese with an accent, his enunciation clear.

The man was dressed in a silver-gray suit, shiny leather shoes, and a rose-gold watch; his attire’s luxury matched perfectly with his robust figure. The epitome of a successful and elegant gentleman. If it wasn’t for what he said next, Bi Fang might have mistaken him for a male model from some agency.

“Mr. Fang, I am here on behalf of the Disney Company to discuss a potential collaboration with you.”

Bran sat down on the sofa, and his opening remark took Bi Fang by surprise.

Disney?

Why would someone from a movie-making company like Disney come to him?

“What kind of collaboration?”

“We wish to acquire the rights to adapt your experience with the migrating geese into an animated film, planned to release within three years.”

Bran took a sip of coffee, crossed his left leg over his right, then after a while, switched to cross his right leg over his left. For some reason, ever since he entered the room, he had felt a sense of defeat, involuntarily toning down his presence as if he had entered the den of some formidable beast.

Wang Yongbo stood by, glancing between Bi Fang and Bran, and felt that Bi Fang’s presence was slightly more imposing.

Bran exuded confidence before entering the room, but after sitting down in front of Bi Fang, Bran seemed to have changed completely. He looked like a wolf but felt somewhat like an Erha.

Bran coming to seek collaboration was also unexpected for Wang Yongbo because the matter seemed rather sci-fi: an overseas corporation suddenly comes to you, hoping you’d grant the rights to turn your story into an animated film.

The first reaction for most people would be to think it’s a scam. However, when this happened to Bi Fang, it somehow didn’t seem so far-fetched.

Breaking the harsh and unreasonable rules of the adult world, one sets out on a nature adventure with fervor and dreams,

Migrating geese, hunting reindeer, confronting lynxes, flying through storms, youth, adventurers, starlit forests, officials colluding with poachers to traffic wildlife.

Is there any fairy tale more realistic than this?

This perfectly aligns with the consistent core of Disney animations.

By the time Bi Fang’s name echoed around the world, Disney was already contemplating turning this story into a blockbuster. After days of meetings and discussions, everyone agreed it was feasible, and so Bran was honorably dispatched.

“If you agree, we will pay thirty million Ugly Yuan for the licensing rights, and your movie will be released globally, letting more people know about this animal conservation effort and calling for greater participation,” he said.

Bran presented Wang Yongbo with a figure that made his heart skip a beat; he had even researched Bi Fang beforehand, hedging his persuasive efforts not on value but on influence.

Thirty million!

Ugly Yuan, no less!

“Thirty million? That much?” Bi Fang was surprised, too. Were licensing fees normally this high?

“You misunderstand. We are not just paying for the licensing rights but purchasing your entire adventure,” Bran explained.

“What do you mean?”

“Your adventure is so perfect it doesn’t need any adaptation. In fact, to adapt it would be an insult to the story. Our company has never encountered such a situation before, so we’ve always believed thirty million to be a reasonable price.”

Bran wasn’t lying; this was indeed their first encounter with such an instance. Previous live-action rights almost always involved adapting the experience to some degree to enhance the storytelling.

No one’s real-life adventures are genuinely as fairy tale-like as Bi Fang’s were.

So, the sum included not just licensing fees but also scripting fees, consultancy fees, copyright fees, and so forth. Taking Bi Fang’s influence into account, the price was fair.

Disney was no fool—they had meticulously studied Bi Fang’s explosive popularity curve, which clearly had ample potential left to tap. In just half a year, he had become nearly globally known, save for parts of Africa and other third-world regions that lagged in news coverage. Almost everyone in Europe and North and South America who watched livestreams knew of Bi Fang’s fame.

By the time the animated film comes out, perhaps a year later, how much would Bi Fang’s popularity have grown? Disney’s data analysts were astounded after their research, concluding it could increase tenfold!

Thus, Bran treated Bi Fang with the utmost respect, just like a top-tier star.

“Furthermore, we plan to develop an animated series in addition to the film. Have you heard of ‘Uncle Long’s Adventures’?” he asked.

“Of course.”

Bi Fang was certainly aware of it; the animation was famous and of high quality.

“If you’re willing to accept our collaboration, we also plan to develop a similar type of animated series. Of course, we will pay an additional fee for the image rights, and we can assure you, the quality will be no less than ‘Uncle Long’s Adventures’.”

Bi Fang couldn’t help but be moved; it was like a pie falling from the sky. The world’s best animation company suddenly comes to you, offering collaboration, to bring your story to the silver screen—it was every adventurer’s dream.

It was the perfect opportunity to break out.

Bi Fang had always known that livestreaming had its limitations—many streamers might be famous in the eyes of their viewers, but outside the streaming community, they were barely known.

He could claim global fame now because many news outlets had reported on him; otherwise, relying solely on livestreaming, he could never have reached such heights.

If news coverage could do this much, what about movies and animations?

What level could they reach?