novellhall Chapter 35 Miss Hong Kong Pageant
Chapter 35 Miss Hong Kong Pageant
2 PM, screening room.
Two new faces sat in the room, each in a different posture.
The director of "Hotline of Terror" is Qian Wenqi, who is in his early thirties, wears silver-rimmed glasses, and keeps twirling a pen in his fingers. After twirling it twice, he looks up at Lin Dong.
The director of "The Unemployed Emperor," Ma Wai-ho, was more composed than him, with his hands crossed on the table, but his knuckles were white from gripping them so tightly.
Lin Dong pushed open the door and came in, with Chen Xinjian following behind.
Both directors stood up at the same time.
"Sit down." Lin Dong sat down in the main seat, and without much small talk, nodded to the projectionist. "Let's watch 'Hotline' first."
The lights dimmed.
The screen lights up.
The story is simple. A group of young people break into an abandoned building late at night, where a murder is said to have occurred and where the phone rings every midnight.
They stayed inside all night and experienced various "paranormal events"—the door closed by itself, a person appeared in the mirror, and the phone actually rang.
In the end, it turned out that the building manager was behind it all.
Ninety minutes. Lin Dong finished watching.
As the end credits slowly rolled, he didn't say anything, but simply raised his hand and patted his forehead, somewhat speechless.
The director, wearing silver-rimmed glasses, looked at him nervously.
Forget it, this isn't what I wanted. At worst, I'll just go see Zhang Baizhi and cleanse my eyes.
"That's settled then." Lin Dong turned to Chen Xinjian. "Arrange the release. Go through Win's Entertainment's channels, next Monday, midnight slot."
Chen Xinjian nodded and noted it down.
Qian Wenqi's lips moved. He wanted to ask about publicity—posters, trailers, media screenings, anything.
But he swallowed the words back down his throat.
With an investment of three million and a midnight screening slot, he had already figured out the investor's attitude.
Lin Dong didn't ignore him. He stood up and walked over to Qian Wenqi.
"You're a new director. I don't expect this film to turn out any great, nor do I hope it will make money. But I hope to see improvement in your next film."
Qian Wenqi's Adam's apple bobbed. He understood—the next part.
"President Lin—" he said excitedly, taking a deep breath, "Could I sign a contract with Tengda?"
Lin Dong glanced at him, pleased with his sharp eyes, and then said, "Find President Chen." He then turned back around.
Chen Xinjian spoke up at the opportune moment: "Director Qian, let's talk in my office after this is over."
Just then, Ma Weihua also stood up.
"Mr. Lin, I also want to sign with Tengda."
Ma Weihua pushed up his glasses and added, half self-deprecatingly and half seriously, "As long as I have food to eat, that's enough."
Lin Dong glanced at him. "Let's talk after I've watched your film."
The lights dimmed again.
"The Unemployed Emperor" tells the story of an insurance elite who goes bankrupt overnight and ends up on the streets, making a living by doing odd jobs but unable to find a proper job, stumbling along the way and creating a series of hilarious and embarrassing stories.
Ninety minutes, the pace is slow, the humor is lukewarm, and the bitterness is hidden beneath the dialogue, occasionally popping up to prick you.
In conclusion, it was bland and uninteresting.
As the screen went black, Lin Dong stood up.
After thinking for a moment, he said to Ma Weihua, "You come with me to talk to General Manager Chen."
Ma Weihua paused for a second, then beamed with joy. "Thank you, President Lin! Thank you, President Lin!"
This means that his next film project is secured, and more importantly, it means that he will have money coming in.
Both films are scheduled for next Monday.
As Lin Dong walked out, he instructed Chen Xinjian, "Push up the production schedule of 'The Way We Are' and 'Ah Keung's Last Night' again. Especially 'Ah Keung,' tell the new director to speed up the progress."
Chen Xinjian nodded calmly, already deciding to continue urging them when he got back.
As for the previous Chen Yaowen, Lin Dong has already decisively ordered him to be replaced.
After leaving the screening room, Lin Dong picked up his phone and dialed Xiang Yeqiang's number.
"Xiang Sheng, Tengda has two short films that are going to be released, and we'd like to use Yong Sheng's theatrical distribution channels to release them next Monday."
Xiang Yeqiang's cheerful voice came through the receiver. Without hesitation, he directly showed his utmost sincerity: "Since Mr. Lin has spoken, what else is there to say? We'll take 5% of the profits."
"No need," Lin Dong cut the conversation off decisively. "It's just a small investment, whatever the price is. We'll ask Mr. Xiang for a discount next time we have a big project."
Xiang Yeqiang paused for a moment on the other end of the phone, then burst into laughter.
"Okay, Mr. Lin is in charge. Let's go by industry practice, 7%."
7% is Win's Entertainment's share as the distributor. The cinemas take another 50%. In the end, Tengda receives 43% of the box office revenue.
After deducting 5% for print processing, the actual amount received is less than 40%. For a film with a budget of three million, the box office revenue needs to be around seven million to break even.
Lin Dong didn't care.
The more money is lost, the more the system returns. For movies that are designed to lose money, he would love for even higher distribution fees.
After hanging up the phone, Lin Dong glanced at his watch and was about to leave when there was a knock on the door.
Xiang Hailan stood at the door.
A white shirt, a dark blue pencil skirt, as usual. But her fingers were gripping the edge of the folder, her knuckles white.
"President Lin." She walked in, stopped in front of the desk, and took a deep breath. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she hesitated for two seconds.
Then she bent down, placed the resignation letter on the table, and pressed her ten fingers on the paper as if it would be blown away by the wind if she didn't hold it down.
"I registered for the Miss Hong Kong pageant in March. I received a notification a few days ago that I passed the interview. The semi-finals are on May 23rd, and before that, I need to train intensively—appearance, makeup, typhoon preparedness, everything needs to be trained together."
Lin Dong leaned back in his chair and looked at her.
Not angry.
These four words, when applied to Lin Dong, represent the solid 2 billion yuan fortune he has accumulated through continuous investment in projects over this period.
At this moment, he leaned back in his chair without saying a word, looking at his secretary with no deliberate pressure in his gaze, simply waiting calmly for her to finish speaking.
Xiang Hailan's ears turned red, the color spreading from her earlobes all the way down to the collar of her shirt.
"I've only been with the company for a little over a month," her voice trailed off, "It would be a terrible mistake to quit now. But this opportunity—"
She didn't finish speaking.
Lin Dong remained silent for a moment, his face expressionless, and simply waved his hand.
"Go."
Two words. Not a plea to stay, not a blame, not encouragement, just permission.
Xiang Hailan, however, did not move.
Her feet seemed rooted to the spot, but her fingers gripped the folder tighter and tighter.
Finally, she gritted her teeth and took a step forward.
His fingers rose, trembling, and touched the top button of his white shirt.
Click.
The neckline was open, revealing a small section of the collarbone.
Then came the second one.
Click.
The edge of white lace peeks out from the open neckline.
Her fingers continued downwards, the third button was half undone, her fingertips trembling so much she almost dropped the plastic button.
She didn't dare to look up.
Lin Dong leaned back in his chair, neither moving nor speaking, just watching her—watching her tremble, watching her untie her clothes, watching the skin gradually revealed from her open neckline, pale under the cold light of the fluorescent lamp.
The third one.
Click.