Chapter 83: The Scheming Must Go On

To be honest, an entire division is definitely a bit much. Wu Xiang had said it partly in jest, but it also showed that his ambitions this time were anything but small.

With such a grand plan, was 15.5 million enough?

Of course not, but Wu Xiang had a backup plan.

Who would he turn to? Naturally, it was Yu Dong from Bona.

Or rather, it was Yu Dong who came looking for Wu Xiang, since there were still plenty of things to sort out.

"This is your share from Hong Kong, Macau, and Taiwan, as well as your dividend as the major shareholder in Bona," Yu Dong said, meeting Wu Xiang at the same café as before. As he spoke, he handed over a check.

There were plenty of zeros on it—rightfully Wu Xiang’s earnings.

Box office revenue from Hong Kong and Taiwan was only being settled at this point, which wasn’t particularly slow, all things considered, since the money had to change hands a few times. "First Intimate Encounter" ended up with 16 million at the Hong Kong box office—a very decent achievement, especially since the Hong Kong movie market was in dire straits. In 1999, for the first time in history, the box office champion in Hong Kong grossed under 30 million HKD—Stephen Chow’s "King of Comedy."

It was a disgrace, but there was nothing to be done. Hong Kong cinema was in a slump, so 16 million was exceptionally good.

On the island, the final box office take was 10 million RMB, over 40 million New Taiwan dollars—a very respectable figure, considering the island’s film market was also shrinking.

These territories were all handled by Yu Dong’s Bona. Wu Xiang had a 36% share per their agreement. The rest belonged to Bona.

Ordinarily, the split would be 45%. That’s right—even though this counted as overseas distribution, the returns were better than those in the mainland, since their distribution system was already more advanced—superior to that of the mainland.

But you had to give a few percentage points locally as promotional expenses—usually two or three. That was an unspoken rule; nothing to be done. If you didn’t promote, what would happen to the box office?

That was still the situation now. If the production side took more, it was because they handled most of the promotion themselves.

As expected, there was a lot of "wiggle room" here.

All told, Wu Xiang pocketed nearly ten million, thanks to his Bona shareholder dividend.

As for being Bona’s major shareholder, that was Yu Dong’s decision in advance, because just as Wu Xiang had guessed, "Postmen in the Mountains" had already been acquired by the Japanese side. Although it hadn’t yet been released there, the Japanese had high hopes for it and were already working on the translation and other preparations; it was set for submission to the Tokyo Film Festival.

So Yu Dong knew how to handle things. Besides, "First Intimate Encounter" had brought him a tidy profit.

"I’ll invest five million!" That was Yu Dong’s decisive response after reading Wu Xiang’s script.

"Aren’t you afraid of losing money?" Wu Xiang knew that five million was probably the most Yu Dong could put up at the moment.

Of course, Yu Dong wasn’t betting everything, just as Wu Xiang wasn’t. No one puts all their eggs in one basket.

"Sure, I’m afraid! But I’m even more afraid of missing out on a chance to make money," Yu Dong admitted, refreshingly honest.

Wu Xiang had nothing more to say and immediately offered Yu Dong the same guarantee he’d given Han Sanping, putting Yu Dong’s mind at ease.

Twenty million and fifty thousand, plus all available resources and a backup fund of about ten million more—funding for this grand endeavor was now secured!

But when other big productions had a minimum budget of forty million and no upper limit, could Wu Xiang really pull it off with just twenty or thirty million?

That meant more penny-pinching was in order.

"Why not? Why can’t I give it a shot? Who are you to say otherwise?"

"Who am I? I’m the casting director. If I say you’re not right, then you’re not right!"

"How do you know I’m not right? I haven’t even auditioned yet!"

"You need an audition? Just look at yourself—so unruly! This is a period drama. What could you possibly play?"

"How am I unruly? How?"

The argument was in full swing now. The scene unfolded just outside the entrance of the film academy, with a few tables set up for casting—the spot Wu Xiang and his friends had picked for auditions.

They had prior experience from "The Great Flood," where they’d pulled off the same trick, recruiting students as cast members. But this time, something seemed to have gone awry.

Wu Xiang had just finished his meeting with Yu Dong and was heading back when he spotted the ruckus from a distance. The one arguing was none other than Wang Hongzhi, and the female lead had a very distinctive feature—a particularly large mouth.

"What’s going on here?" Wu Xiang, as the investor, screenwriter, and director, had to ask.

"Xiangzi, you’re here! It’s nothing, just a female student causing trouble. I’m trying to talk some sense into her," Wang Hongzhi explained, still being pulled at by the girl, who had him by the collar.

"Who are you calling a troublemaker? You want to get hit, is that it?" The girl was fierce.

"Alright, enough! If you’ve got something to say, say it properly," Wu Xiang interjected, using the authority that came with his rising fame.

"So you’re Wu Xiang? I want to audition, but he won’t let me! Is this how you cast? I’ve heard you guys are shady—turns out it’s true! So what if you’re a big-time director? Does that mean you can be unreasonable?" the girl fumed.

"If you don’t want the part, let’s just go," a male student beside her tried to pull her away.

"I’m not going! I won’t leave until I’ve had my say!" She stood her ground.

Wu Xiang couldn’t just listen to one side, so he asked Wang Hongzhi for his version. Now he understood: the girl had come to audition, but Wang Hongzhi had decided at first glance that she wasn’t right, and his reasoning was actually quite solid.

"Ancient beauties had willowy brows and cherry lips. Look at her—mouth like a shovel, could put two Shu Qis to shame. How could she possibly fit the part?"

Indeed, the girl’s mouth was no small thing. She was none other than Yao Chen, the "big-mouthed beauty," and the boy beside her was, naturally, her future husband—though they would part ways later.

At Wang Hongzhi’s words, Yao Chen immediately squared up, ready to go toe-to-toe with him, but Wu Xiang wasn’t about to let a disaster unfold.

Wu Xiang thought to himself, "This girl actually made her name starring in period dramas." Could he turn her away? Of course not.

"You want to be in a film?" Wu Xiang asked with a smile.

Yao Chen wanted to say no, but this was Wu Xiang—the hottest young director around.

"Let’s go," Ling Xiaosu urged, determined not to let his girlfriend suffer any indignity.

"I’ll do it!" Yao Chen declared, full of spirit. "Why not? Think I’m afraid of you? Just wait—you’ll see what I can do!"

"Xiao Chen!" Ling Xiaosu was a little upset, but Yao Chen stood firm.

"Alright," Wu Xiang agreed.

"Xiangzi!" Wang Hongzhi felt a bit put out—after all, this was a slap in the face.

But Wu Xiang’s next words cheered him up immensely.

"Fifteen hundred a month, food and lodging included. If you want the part, fill out the form and leave your contact info. If you don’t, I can’t help you. Oh, the role is a palace maid. Go home and adjust your attitude—no more of this brashness. Lower your eyes, be demure. Understand?"

As soon as Wu Xiang finished, Wang Hongzhi was overjoyed. "Xiangzi, you’re ruthless! That’s brilliant, so satisfying!"

"You—!" Yao Chen was practically fuming.

"Xiao Chen, let’s go!" Ling Xiaosu was embarrassed.

"I’m in! I’m not backing down now!" You had to admit, this big-mouthed beauty was certainly stubborn.

Wu Xiang couldn’t help but admire her a little. This woman’s character was truly…

"Excuse me, are you Director Wu Xiang?" At that moment, a much more pleasant female voice sounded from behind Yao Chen.