Chapter 161: Company Affairs

The progress of “New Dragon Gate Inn” was facing some difficulties. Originally, it wasn’t Xiao Ran’s turn to get involved. Yet, everyone in Hong Kong was well aware of Xiao Ran’s capabilities. With him ranked among Hong Kong’s finest directors alongside renowned directors like Xu Ke and Wu Yusen, he simply had to serve as the artistic director and creative president of Shadow Image.

This time, they were collaborating with Xi’an Film Studio. Of course, the so-called cooperation meant Shadow Image paid those inflexible filmmakers to stay put and not interfere. Xiao Ran was anxious; he increasingly felt the urgency of the situation.

Audiences on the mainland were gradually losing interest in going to cinemas. If cinemas didn’t transform themselves to retain fashion-conscious young people, it might be impossible to reverse the decline from 2.5 billion to 900 million in box office revenue. However, it was clear that before 1997, the likelihood of the mainland approving cinema investment projects was extremely low.

Sighing softly, Xiao Ran, who had been lost in thought on his chair, snapped back to reality. The cast for this film was basically the same as before—Liu Xun, Xu Ke’s favorite actor, was still in the movie. Yet, Xiao Ran still had to admire Liu Xun’s skills. Coming from a theatrical background and once one of Hong Kong’s more famous actors, it wasn’t surprising that he was so skilled.

Wu Qihua, who was originally part of the cast, had become an enemy of TVB after Shadow Image acquired ATV, and naturally, he was no longer available. But this wasn’t a problem for Shadow Image at all. Their artist training department could produce two batches of graduates each year, with at least twenty graduates per batch, including actors and singers.

It was truly a breathtaking landscape of endless yellow sands. But Xiao Ran and Xu Ke were not focused on the scenery at all—they were concerned about the fight scenes in the filming area. This time, the action director was Cheng Xiaodong, along with a few apprentices with martial arts backgrounds, all working to train new talent.

Xiao Ran often entrusted some of the martial arts choreography to experts from the mainland, determined to maintain the absolute advantage of Chinese cinema in action sequences. Cheng Xiaodong had a very imaginative style, but at this point, he hadn’t yet shown it.

Sometimes, rather than saying the action director’s style was overly personal, it was more accurate to say he was influenced by the director. At least Cheng Xiaodong was heavily influenced by Xu Ke—so much so that without Xu Ke, he seemed incapable of doing anything.

Chen Kexin diligently reported the film’s progress to his boss, Xiao Ran. Progress wasn’t smooth due to sandstorms. Fortunately, it didn’t cause major issues, though one actor was hit in the forehead by an arrow. Luckily, Xiao Ran always ensured insurance was in place for each film shoot.

Injuries to actors and crew members were extremely common during filming. Xiao Ran had heard rumors that an accident during the shooting of a certain film had killed a crew member. The director simply ordered the body to be thrown far away, showing a chilling lack of compassion.

Interestingly, while other film companies currently invest an average of only four to five million in their films, Phantom’s investment has already reached as much as eight million. This eight million includes costs such as insurance and legal fees. In fact, Phantom keeps up with the latest trends in filming equipment and post-production tools every year. Xiao Ran can even proudly say that Phantom is by no means inferior to Hollywood in terms of equipment. Tianxia Fund has also invested in research laboratories related to overseas film equipment, hoping to bring benefits to Phantom. After thinking this through, Xiao Ran concluded that the company already had everything it needed. He felt it was very necessary to pursue a strategy involving Southeast Asia and even racial integration—a claim that might sound exaggerated. But Xiao Ran’s intention was clear: he wanted to attract all talented people from Southeast Asia to shoot movies in Hong Kong, just like Hollywood does. After meeting Lin Qingxia, Xiao Ran quickly returned to Hong Kong. He called Chen Jiale, the head of Tianlai, and Jin Ruyu from the artist training department to Wei Dongling’s office, and the four of them began discussing how to discover singers and actors. When this topic came up, Chen Jiale seemed to have already planned ahead, smiling confidently: “President Xiao, I’ve thought about this. We could consider organizing a talent competition, similar to Huaxing Company’s ones!” Xiao Ran was frustrated—he wasn’t even the president anymore, so why did everyone still call him President Xiao? He exchanged a glance with Wei Dongling, who understood Xiao Ran’s ambitions best. Having discussed this beforehand, Wei Dongling naturally knew that Xiao Ran wanted more than just a talent competition in Hong Kong! So, Wei Dongling gently said to the two of them, “A talent competition is necessary, but after discussing it with President Xiao, we both agree it shouldn’t be held only in Hong Kong. We need talented singers from Southeast Asia. You must understand that the company’s goal isn’t just Hong Kong—it’s the whole world.” Chen Jiale was slightly surprised. Indeed, Hong Kong and Taiwanese music were very popular in Southeast Asia, with many songs becoming hits in other regions and countries there. However, it seemed no one had considered expanding the company’s business to other regions and countries. After some thought, countless ideas crossed Chen Jiale’s mind. He thought that if he could turn Tianlai into a world-class record company, that would truly be a remarkable achievement. He quickly reached a conclusion: “A talent competition is indeed a good idea, but I personally think the first one should be held in Hong Kong for now, and it must be a big event. That way, the second competition can more smoothly attract participants from other regions!” Xiao Ran and Wei Dongling nodded—this idea was absolutely correct. Tianlai Company was among the best in Hong Kong in terms of its popular singers and the development of future talent. As for the strength of its behind-the-scenes leaders, it was undoubtedly the best, and many people saw great potential in this company.

However, Tianlai currently does not have a complete training system; it mainly relies on the artist training department of Meiyin to send singers and on scouts wandering the streets randomly. Thus, this move undoubtedly provides an excellent opportunity to inject new talent into Tianlai. Several highly popular singers familiar to Xiao Ran all stood out in Huaxing’s rookie competitions.

This was clearly not enough. Xiao Ran turned his gaze to the quite attractive and capable Jin Ruyu. “Ayu, do you think the artist training department needs to get involved in this with Tianlai?”

Jin Ruyu was momentarily stunned before smiling immediately. She had actually been thinking about it earlier—acting clearly wasn’t something that could be determined through competitions. But that didn’t mean the artist training department couldn’t benefit from it. “President Xiao, I think we should have the artist training department collaborate with Tianlai on this.”

Xiao Ran stared at her with interest. He was increasingly impressed by Wei Dongling’s ability to select company personnel. Jin Ruyu clearly understood what Xiao Ran meant and said with a smile, “Performing is hard to judge through competitions, but we can select suitable candidates through contests in various talent categories.”

This exactly matched what Xiao Ran wanted. He decided right away that Tianlai would be the organizer, with Meiyin’s training department as a co-organizer. They were given half a month to prepare a detailed plan. The event was tentatively scheduled for July and August during the summer vacation, so that more people could attend.

As for promotion, it would naturally be handled by the professional marketing team—Meiyin’s marketing department. As for how much money Tianlai had to pay to them, that was not something Xiao Ran or Wei Dongling wanted to interfere with. Although Tianlai was a subsidiary of Meiyin, business matters absolutely could not be ambiguous.

After the two left, Xiao Ran turned to Wei Dongling with a grin and said, “Your eye for talent is really impressive—you always manage to find capable people for the company!”

Under Xiao Ran’s “fierce” expression, Wei Dongling backed away in panic, shaking his head like a rattle. “Chen Jiale was promoted by me, but Jin Ruyu has nothing to do with me. She was discovered by the Human Resources Department…”

Xiao Ran stopped in frustration. He had originally thought it was Wei Dongling who did it, so he could scold him for it. But then again, it seemed like Wei Dongling was always the one scolding him—about villas, yachts, cars—Xiao Ran didn’t even know how much money he had lost on those.

Now, both Xiao Ran and Wei Dongling were much more relaxed. The company’s division had made things pleasant. Now, Wei Dongling was directly responsible to Xiao Ran. Nominalmente, since Wei Dongling was the CEO, he should be the one to decide on the company’s specific strategies. But in this regard, Wei Dongling still preferred to discuss things with Xiao Ran first.

In a sense, the company was very united. It wasn’t exactly collectivism, but no one fought over credit and got red-faced. Everything in the company could be attributed to Wei Dongling. After all, with him in charge, Xiao Ran could focus on steering the overall direction of the Meiyin Empire. It showed that sometimes individual heroism isn’t very useful.

But right now, Xiao Ran is basically the face of Phantom. It has to be said that this guy has great acting potential, and his image also fits well with Phantom Company’s image. Poor Wei Dongling, as Phantom’s CEO, has his achievements repeatedly attributed to Xiao Ran by the media. He doesn’t even know how many times he’s used this as an excuse to extort money from Xiao Ran. Thus, through Wei Dongling, Xiao Ran finally understood that to be a hero, one must pay a certain price.

“A Dong, don’t you think your treatment is too poor?” Xiao Ran adjusted his expression and looked at Wei Dongling seriously. This was important, but it also showed how honest their relationship was. “I’ve always thought giving you only five percent of the shares is too little!”

“Stop it…” Wei Dongling held his head high and glanced at Xiao Ran. “Don’t underestimate those five percent shares. They’ve made me one of the billionaires in Hong Kong. Besides, I’m now a high-ranking executive at several well-known companies.”

Xiao Ran couldn’t help but laugh. It was good that he and Wei Dongling could talk freely in private. He asked this because Guan Xin had given him a report earlier, stating that Golden Harvest and other companies were trying to poach Wei Dongling, with Golden Harvest even offering an annual salary of five million. Of course, other companies didn’t seem to know that Wei Dongling’s current annual salary was already five million, plus annual dividends and other benefits, bringing his total income to over ten million per year. Wei Dongling glanced at Xiao Ran again. He really didn’t care about money; he was just as indifferent as Xiao Ran. Moreover, he was already very satisfied with his current treatment. An annual income of ten million was absolutely rare among corporate executives in Hong Kong.

“You mean Golden Harvest wants to poach me? Brother Ran, I’ve already signed a contract with you—what more do you want?” Years of negotiation had made Wei Dongling’s acting even more skillful. He pretended to look pitiful, as if ready to cry bitterly.

Xiao Ran was amused. He wasn’t worried about Wei Dongling leaving, after all, their friendship was strong enough. Besides, Wei Dongling seemed to enjoy his job more and more and wouldn’t want to leave. There was also a contract to hold him back.

“Let’s not talk about that. By the way, how’s the planning for the film awards going?” Xiao Ran changed the subject, recalling the discussion they had some time ago about organizing film awards.

The Golden Horse Awards weren’t an option, as they were only for Chinese-language films. The Golden Statue Awards could be supported, but their rules were too restrictive, requiring films to be produced in Hong Kong or meet other specific criteria to compete. In Xiao Ran’s eyes, holding film awards would be a great way to expand the influence of Chinese-language films and Phantom. His idea for such an award was simple: to organize a more artistic film festival that would attract films from around the world.

Wei Dongling shook his head and said gloomily, “Organizing it isn’t difficult. The hard part is how to invite top stars and directors from around the world—that’s the key! And as you know, as a film company, we can’t get involved. So, we can only sponsor it, which is quite challenging.”

Xiao Ran pondered for a moment. In fact, he had not failed to consider it. Currently, Phantom’s influence in Southeast Asia was indeed enormous. It was no exaggeration to say that if Phantom stopped production for a year, countless people might starve! But globally, it didn’t hold much appeal.
It wasn’t urgent, at least that’s what Xiao Ran thought. The key was preparation and deciding which organization would host it. Perhaps the government could take care of it, but Xiao Ran didn’t think the Hong Kong-British government had the courage to do so. It was even possible that under their pressure, the film festival would have to be moved to the UK.
After discussing it for a while with no progress, An Yuxuan came to inform Xiao Ran that it was time to attend the meeting at the Film Association. Mentioning this meeting, Xiao Ran felt a bit confused—why did these three major companies hold meetings all the time, and why did they insist that their bosses attend in person?
Anyway, since the bosses of the three major companies were all going, it would be awkward for Xiao Ran not to go. Upon arriving at the Film Association and entering the meeting room, Xiao Ran saw the leaders of the three major companies gathered there, of course, accompanied by their assistants or secretaries.
Smiling at the three of them, Xiao Ran sat down next to Zou Wenhui. After glancing at them, he curiously looked at Wu Siyuan and said, “Uncle Wu, what do you want to discuss today? Has some company run into trouble?”