Chapter 195: Financial Support

Looking at this young man with his bright smile, Pandy Sheng sometimes felt very old in his presence, like now. Other times, he felt immature in front of him, such as during negotiations. In his eyes, this man was absolutely unfathomable.

Pandy Sheng had discussed several of Xiao Ran’s strange actions with Yang Qi—not to mention those related to the computer department. Just take the Starlight Project, which gradually became known among industry insiders: every year, Phantom would promote a certain number of popular stars around its core industries.

The other two weren’t fully aware of this, but they vaguely knew that cultivating a star popular throughout Southeast Asia through the Starlight Project required over 80 million. Yet Phantom didn’t keep these actors around long; it only signed them for a few movies before letting them go.

It was easy for the two of them to calculate the cost. If Phantom promoted 20 stars each year, it would mean spending over 1.5 billion. And the actors, by acting in just a few movies, could never recover such a loss. By letting them go, it was as if Xiao Ran was cultivating stars for Hong Kong’s film industry while paying out of his own pocket to help other companies do the same.

Pandy Sheng didn’t know what Xiao Ran was thinking. But he and Yang Qi both believed, to some extent, that Xiao Ran was acting for Hong Kong’s film industry—after all, no one would be foolish enough to waste money like that every year.

Yet precisely because of this, he was even more confused—why did Xiao Ran go to such lengths to raise production costs? Now that Xiao Ran was in front of him, he didn’t hesitate to ask, “A Ran, why do you try such roundabout ways to raise production costs?”

Yang Qi was momentarily stunned but quickly figured it out, staring at Xiao Ran with a sly smile. Wei Dongling turned away, deciding it was better for Xiao Ran to answer.

Xiao Ran pondered for a moment. There were things he wasn’t sure whether to say. In fact, he wasn’t forcing companies to meet a certain ratio—romantic and comedy films, for example, didn’t require it. The key was that he hoped to use this to encourage the three major companies to try making science fiction films as production costs rose. Of course, before that, Phantom had to be the first to do so.

He didn’t think this requirement was excessive. In fact, over 80% of investments in Hong Kong films were in the hands of the four major companies, so it wouldn’t have a significant negative impact. “What do you think makes a film attractive to audiences? I mean, what kind of films does the mainstream market like?”

“Comedy, I guess. The key, as you said, lies in the script, the director, and the actors!” In a sense, Yang Qi could be considered Xiao Ran’s loyal follower.

For example, Xiao Ran believed in high-quality films, and his average investment per film was even higher than that of Carrefour. He knew he was an amateur to some extent, and with Xiao Ran, a successful professional, guiding him, if he didn’t learn, he might as well give up making films.

“That’s one of them…” Xiao Ran hesitated for a moment before speaking, unsure if the two would understand what he had to say: “The second is that the mainstream market is the mass market. What is the common mindset of the masses? They don’t need films that require high intelligence; instead, they want lively or intense movies. Perhaps an example would help—‘Spy Change’ is a typical mainstream commercial film!”
“There is only one type of commercial film, but its themes are by no means limited to comedy. Any theme can become a commercial film as long as its commercial elements are successfully utilized!” Xiao Ran suddenly thought of ‘Gunfire.’ If Ah Du hadn’t pursued the extremes of his personal style, adding commercial elements to that film would have surely given it a good chance of success.
“Commercial elements?” Pandi Sheng and Yang Qi repeated in murmurs.
“Yes, commercial elements!” Xiao Ran nodded firmly in agreement—this was a crucial point: “It’s a foundation. You need elements that can excite mainstream audiences, and they don’t have to be too complicated. So, every theme can be a form of commercial element, as long as it’s handled properly.”
“It wasn’t a wise decision for Debao to focus its efforts on a few areas where it excelled, nor was it wise for Tianluo to concentrate on police dramas.” Xiao Ran spoke as if he were a professor: “You need to try other themes. A single theme can never satisfy audiences.”
Silence. Still silence. They were aware of this too, but neither of them dared give up on their expertise in adventure films. Mei Ying had already been hailed as Southeast Asia’s best screenwriter and was renowned as a ‘divine hand’ in the writing community—someone who could control not only her own works but also those of others.
“The mainstream market isn’t necessarily all about big-budget films, but big-budget films are definitely the mainstream of the mainstream market.” Finally, Xiao Ran addressed the core issue. Even he couldn’t help but relax a bit: “The larger the market, the higher the production costs needed to make the film better. This not only enhances the reputation of Hong Kong films but also gives us an advantage that allows Southeast Asian and European films to struggle to catch up in the short term. By the time they’ve accumulated enough experience and talent, it will be too late. By then, the world will belong to Chinese-language films!”
Wei Dongling, Yang Qi, and Pandi Sheng all stared at Xiao Ran with wide mouths, their astonishment indescribable. They weren’t surprised by the method itself, but by the fact that Xiao Ran had been strategically planning to undermine the film industries of other Southeast Asian countries.
What a terrifying man! Pandi Sheng even felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. They suddenly realized how formidable Xiao Ran really was—while they were still figuring out how to compete in the Southeast Asian market, Xiao Ran was already secretly undermining film industries there.
Yet, when they thought of the Chinese-language films Xiao Ran had mentioned repeatedly, they understood why he wanted to suppress other regions’ film industries. Wei Dongling stared at Xiao Ran, his eyes as round as bells: “You brat! You had such sinister plans and didn’t even tell me!”

Xiao Ran couldn’t help but chuckle, shrugging his shoulders in helplessness. Actually, there was no need to tell Wei Dongling about this, and there were other strategies as well that hadn’t been mentioned—it was just his current idea for now. In any case, control over the overall situation was in his hands, so whether he spoke or not didn’t matter.
“There’s one more thing!” Since so much had already been said today, it didn’t matter if a few more things were added that wouldn’t affect Zhenzhen either. With that in mind, Xiao Ran said solemnly to the two, “Tell your staff and filmmakers to remember to learn Mandarin—absolutely. Even if the company pays for their training, they must do it. As for English, if someone isn’t willing to learn, we can try to train professional translators!”
“Why learn these two languages? There’s no need at all!” Pan Disheng frowned heavily. Wouldn’t this just add more trouble? Yang Qi also nodded in agreement.
“Do you think Hong Kong’s tiny market can support local films? Or can we rely entirely on overseas markets? What if overseas markets introduce even stricter protection laws than those in South Korea?” Xiao Ran didn’t want to talk about patriotism or anything like that. From a business perspective, interests were what could truly move businessmen.
Pan Disheng and Yang Qi suddenly realized that due to the rapid development of Hong Kong films in recent years, they had completely overlooked exactly what they had feared before. Now in South Korea, they couldn’t release films as freely as before; they had to take control of many local cinemas and gradually use their financial strength to become the leading film chain there in order to maximize distribution.
If other regions did the same, the consequences were beyond their imagination—bankruptcy was the only word that came to mind. But was entering the mainland really feasible? Most people still held considerable doubts about it.
Wei Dongling laughed roughly a few times and picked up Xiao Ran’s train of thought: “The mainland has over a billion people. Due to economic issues, it’s hard for them to compete with the U.S. market in the short term. But supporting all of Hong Kong’s film companies is definitely no problem. This is our base, our real stronghold!”
“Going north to China…” Pan Disheng understood this well, but he really didn’t understand some political aspects: “What if policies change? You know…”
“Policies…” The mention of this gave Xiao Ran a headache. Hong Kong people simply didn’t trust the mainland—no wonder, given the historical issues. “I just have this plan. I don’t want to be trapped in Hong Kong waiting to die. As for policies, I’m willing to take the risk and give it a try.”
“After the New Year, a group of trainees will be sent to Meiying from the mainland, and we’ll also buy land there to build a film city!” Wei Dongling laughed roughly. Actually, he wasn’t very keen on Xiao Ran sharing this idea with them, because he knew clearly that the first to enter would reap huge profits.
“Let’s put it on hold for now. It’s not urgent at the moment!” Pan Disheng and Yang Qi found it hard to accept such a drastic change and ultimately rejected the proposal. However, they didn’t realize how similar this was to their refusal to invest in karaoke back then.

Xiao Ran didn’t say much about it. There was always someone needed to set an example, and naturally, that person had to be him. But now he was thinking about another matter: how to support DeBao and TianLuo!
In terms of movies, Xiao Ran believed it was essential to pass on Phantom’s professional philosophy to DeBao. As for funding, this was precisely what troubled Xiao Ran the most. Currently, Phantom’s assets amounted to over 40 billion, while DeBao and TianLuo combined still didn’t even reach a fraction of that. This created a huge disparity, making it difficult for TianLuo and DeBao to maintain their position as the second-largest group.
It had to be admitted that whether in the film industry or any other field, funding was absolutely the most crucial factor. On the surface, Phantom was undoubtedly the largest film company in all of Asia, thanks in part to Karaoke’s contributions. With such wealth, they could afford to spend 80 million on a film without batting an eye. TianLuo and DeBao, on the other hand, wouldn’t dare do such things unless they were completely confident—after all, there were no guarantees of success in the film industry.
So, Xiao Ran really wanted to support these two companies so they could quickly catch up with Phantom as backups. He didn’t take long to consider this issue. After thinking for a moment, he frankly told them, “The funds of your two companies can only sustain the current situation. If you want to develop further, at the current pace, it will take several years!”
This hit Yang Qi and Pan Disheng right in the heart. Xiao Ran tilted his head and stared at them, saying, “How about this? Phantom will provide you with funding!”
“No!” Yang Qi and Pan Disheng blurted out without even thinking. They didn’t want their companies controlled by Xiao Ran, as that would mean monopoly.
Xiao Ran and Wei Dongling were stunned for a moment before bursting into laughter. They both knew why the two reacted so strongly. Xiao Ran laughed so hard he could hardly breathe, pointing at them and saying, “You’re really afraid of me monopolizing things! You rejected my proposal without even listening!”
As the two were still in shock, wondering what new plan Xiao Ran had, he suppressed his laughter and said, “It’s simple. I’ll lend each company 2 billion in funds, and you just need to provide 20% of your equity as collateral! You can repay this money whenever you want. I doubt you can get that much from a bank, and it would carry a high risk of bankruptcy.”
Yang Qi and Pan Disheng couldn’t believe it. How could such a good deal exist in the world? This meant Xiao Ran was providing them with 4 billion for free to help them develop, though they would still earn some profit each year. But remember, they were competitors—though they couldn’t compete with him at all right now!
Although it resembled a bank loan, given that they were already competitors, Xiao Ran’s approach was extremely outrageous. Just as they stared at him in disbelief, thinking he might be an alien, Xiao Ran delivered another blow: “Or I could invest 3 billion in each of your companies, with just 20% of the equity required.”
60 billion! It would probably be no problem to buy most of the film companies in Hong Kong, let alone DeBao and TianLuo. 20% of the equity was essentially forcing them to accept huge benefits.

“How about it?” Xiao Ran was truly stuck—they wouldn’t even accept benefits from him. What kind of world was this? “This will definitely be beneficial for you with no harm at all. If you still refuse, then I have nothing more to say!”
“Let us think!” Pandi Sheng and Yang Qi’s minds raced as they quickly calculated. If they really received this funding, the market value of both companies would surely rise, and then they could use it for mortgages… But they couldn’t take out mortgages; otherwise, if Xiao Ran withdrew his investment, they would go bankrupt.
Wei Dongling and Xiao Ran exchanged a wry smile. Life was truly meaningless for this man—did they really have to wait for Xiao Ran to offer it to them? In fact, it was hardly any different from giving it away for free.
Yang Qi and Pandi Sheng had considered financing and loans before, but the loans offered by banks were less than half of the price Xiao Ran demanded. Moreover, Tianluo was founded through financing, with Yang Qi holding only 70% of the shares. Pandi Sheng’s Debao was a wholly owned company, but since they saw that Shadow never sought external financing for its development, they thought it might not be the right approach.
But now their development had reached a bottleneck. If they didn’t step up, they feared falling far behind Shadow. If they accepted, they were worried about being controlled by Shadow. If they refused, they feared staying stuck in place.
“I agree!” Yang Qi, being more decisive, quickly weighed the benefits and nodded firmly after gritting his teeth. “But there must be other conditions to prevent you from interfering!”
“I agree too!”