novellhall Chapter 23: I need to buy a camera.
Chapter 23: I need to buy a camera.
April 9th, 10:00 AM.
Xiang Hailan pushed open the office door, and Jiang Wen followed her in.
He wore a navy blue shirt today, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows as usual, and clutched a bulging brown paper envelope in his hand.
Lin Dong was already seated at the tea table. A purple clay teapot, white porcelain cups, and the first brew of Pu'er tea was just being poured.
"Sit down, don't be shy."
Jiang Wen plopped down, then picked up his teacup without any hesitation, downed it in one gulp, and smacked his lips.
"This tea is good. Much better than the tea bags I had at the hotel last night—that tasted like dishwater."
Lin Dong looked at him, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, then smiled and poured him another cup. "This is an old tea cake given to me by Xiang Sheng, ten years old."
"Ten years?" Jiang Wen looked down at the cup, took another sip, this time a smaller one. "No wonder."
He placed the brown paper envelope on the coffee table and pushed it in front of Lin Dong.
"The script. Take a look."
Lin Dong glanced at it, then didn't move. Instead, he asked him with interest, "Director Jiang, I heard you have a habit."
"What habits?"
"We revised the script on set." Lin Dong picked up his teacup, blew on the tea foam, and said, "It was written before filming started, but we changed it all halfway through. By the time filming wrapped, the script was basically unrelated to the original version."
After asking the question, she held the teacup but kept her eyes on Jiang Wen's expression.
He scratched the back of his head, a grin spreading across his face, revealing a smile that suggested he'd been caught red-handed.
"You've already inquired about this?"
"Wang Jing said it." Lin Dong chuckled, putting down his teacup. He teased, "He said that when you were filming 'In the Heat of the Sun,' the screenwriter followed the crew for three months, but in the end, the credits still listed 'Screenwriter Jiang Wen.' Did that screenwriter still talk to you afterward?"
Jiang Wen coughed lightly, picked up his teacup and took another sip, then simply started acting like a rogue.
"So—are you going to vote or not?"
Lin Dong finally burst out laughing. This was exactly what he wanted to see—the awkward yet shameless expression on the face of a big director like Jiang Wen after being exposed; that was more interesting than anything else.
Jiang Wen watched him smile, and the expression on his face slowly changed, gradually turning into a feeling of embarrassment and anger.
Lin Dong quickly waved his hand to stop smiling, then his expression turned serious.
"How much do you need?"
Seeing Lin Dong's smile suddenly fade, Jiang Wen's face flickered, but he finally gave in and honestly said, "We've raised five million so far, and we're still short one thousand five hundred."
"Fifteen million?"
"right."
"Okay." Lin Dong nodded. "I'll give you the 1,500."
Jiang Wen was taken aback. "Aren't you going to ask anything else?"
"You wouldn't be able to answer even if I asked." Lin Dong picked up his teacup. "You even change the script at any time. What am I supposed to ask you? The actors? The camera work? What you say now won't count later. So what's the point of me asking?"
Jiang Wen opened his mouth, wanting to refute, but found that he couldn't.
"It's settled then, fifteen million." He held up one finger, as if remembering something, "But let me make this clear beforehand—this film will most likely go over budget as it goes on."
"Come find me if it goes over the limit." Lin Dong put down his teacup. "But there's a condition."
"you say."
"The money will go through a special account. Tengda will open a special account for 'Devils on the Doorstep.' You need a certain amount, apply, Chen Xinjian will approve it, and then the loan will be disbursed."
Jiang Wen nodded, offering no objection.
Lin Dong looked at him and softened his tone. "I'll invest this money in you, and if it's lost, that's my problem. But we need to settle the accounts clearly—it's not that I don't trust you, it's just the rule. Even between brothers, accounts should be clear."
Jiang Wen could sense that Lin Dong's words weren't a sign of distrust, but rather a matter of frankness. The meaning was simple and straightforward—money could be lost, but being cheated was unacceptable.
"Of course," Jiang Wen said.
With the business concluded, Lin Dong relaxed. He watched as Jiang Wen finished his tea and then picked up the teapot to refill it.
"Director Jiang, do you know Han Sanping?"
Jiang Wen put down his teacup. "Third Master?" He chuckled. "More than just acquaintances. When I was filming at the Beijing Film Studio, he was my director."
I want to get to know him.
Jiang Wen glanced at Lin Dong, then grinned. "Mr. Lin, you're really straightforward. You just finished negotiating with me about investing in my film, and now you want me to help you pull strings?"
"no?"
"Sure, of course." Jiang Wen waved his hand. "Third Master loves making friends, especially influential ones. Lin Sheng, if you go to Beijing, I'll personally introduce you."
"Then it's settled."
"It's settled." Jiang Wen picked up his teacup and clinked it against Lin Dong's.
After chatting for a while, Jiang Wen took his leave.
Less than two minutes after he left, Chen Xinjian knocked on the door and came in. He was carrying a brown paper document bag, sat down opposite Lin Dong, and pulled out a few pages of documents from the bag.
"Mr. Lin, your loan application was approved by the bank this morning. The amount is HK$80 million, with an annual interest rate of 8% and a term of three years."
He pulled a sheet of paper from the file folder and placed it in front of Lin Dong. "It's a pledge made using the revenue rights from the 'Love Dream Ship' project. The bank has already sent people to monitor the special account."
Lin Dong picked up the approval document, glanced at it, and put it down. Eighty million. An annual interest rate of 8% was not low in Hong Kong in 1998, but it wasn't high either.
Following the Asian financial crisis, credit tightened, and the reason we were able to get this interest rate was because there was real cash flow in the Tenda account.
"Mr. Chen, I have a plan for this money."
Chen Xinjian opened his notebook, the pen tip hovering over the paper.
"Transfer ten million to Li Jiaxin. To repay the money she owed for starting her company last time."
Chen Xinjian put down his pen and wrote it down.
"Transfer another ten million to my personal account. For daily expenses."
Write it down.
"The company will invest another ten million to expand the team and cover daily operations."
Chen Xinjian nodded and wrote it down again.
"Keep the remaining 50 million for now; I'll need it later."
"Understood!" Chen Xinjian closed his pen cap, looked at Lin Dong, and asked if he had any other plans.
Lin Dong shook his head. "You've worked hard these past few days. You can go back to your work now!"
"With such a high salary, I'd feel bad if I didn't keep myself busy!" Chen Xinjian rarely joked.
"Alright, you're good to go. Keep an eye on those projects for me."
Chen Xinjian left with a smile.
The door wasn't fully closed when it was gently pushed open from the outside.
Zhang Baizhi leaned half his body in.
She wasn't wearing her own clothes today—a dark gray suit skirt, a white shirt underneath, and her hair was tied in a low ponytail, just like Xiang Hailan's usual attire.
The skirt was a pencil skirt, just past the knee, with nude stockings and black mid-heeled shoes. Overall, she looked more like someone applying for a secretary job than an entertainer.
Lin Dong leaned back in his chair, glanced at her from head to toe, and raised an eyebrow slightly.
Why are you dressed like that?
Zhang Baizhi closed the door, took a few steps forward, and stood opposite the desk, still clutching a gold-embossed invitation in his hand.
"Mr. Lam, the Hong Kong Film Awards have sent an invitation." She placed the invitation on the table and pushed it forward two inches. "They're inviting you to be a special guest presenter at the 17th Hong Kong Film Awards."
Lin Dong didn't look at the invitation. His gaze remained fixed on her.
Zhang Baizhi met his gaze, his chin slightly raised. "At the company... I wanted to do something within my power for Mr. Lin. Serving tea, pouring water, organizing files—anything is fine."
Lin Dong, however, became somewhat interested, a smile playing on his lips. "Okay. After get off work, wear this—"
He paused for a moment.
"Let's go to the Peninsula Hotel."
The allure of uniforms is something you could definitely give a try.
Oh right, I need to buy a camera; I can still record some beautiful things.