Chapter 196: Rules of the Game

“If Xiao Ran wants to dominate the film industry, he’ll have to walk over my corpse!”
In the Jiahe headquarters office, Zou Wenhui, furious, slammed his hand on the table, knocking over the tea. He Guanchang listened quietly—after all, Zou Wenhui was the chairman of Jiahe Group, and though He Guanchang was a director, he still had to obey him.
“I never thought a kid back four years ago could reach this position. I don’t believe his luck will last forever!” Zou Wenhui, still full of sharpness, viewed Xiao Ran with both disdain and fear.
“It’s hard for us to compete with him. He has ambition, strength, and cunning. Just look at how he managed to take control of the Film Association in one go today!” He Guanchang sighed. In his view, it was pointless to be enemies with Xiao Ran. “Besides, he’s still young and has a bright future ahead. We’re older; we can’t match him in competition. It’s better to focus on our own businesses.”
“That’s impossible! I’ll never allow anyone to interfere in my domain!” Zou Wenhui’s hatred grew as he glared coldly at He Guanchang. “Achang, over a decade ago, we founded Jiahe not to watch it fall. We even brought down Shaw Brothers—this time, Shadow Pictures won’t be able to defeat us either!”
Is there really any chance to fight? He Guanchang wondered. With Jiahe’s current strength, what could they possibly use against Shadow Pictures? If they could follow Xiao Ran’s path, they might receive support like Debao and Tianluo, and then challenge the market—that could be a viable strategy.
But if they had to fight Shadow Pictures to the death… He Guanchang couldn’t help but smile bitterly. What was there left to fight for? Jiahe’s influence had plummeted, Tianluo and Debao were already showing signs of taking over, and actors and filmmakers all favored Shadow Pictures. What could they use to fight?
Perhaps it was really time to retire! He Guanchang let out a long sigh. If he wanted to enjoy the rest of his life, it was better to step back soon. Just as he was thinking this, his secretary suddenly entered the room, followed by three men with Eastern features.
The leader among them smiled upon seeing the two and muttered something in Japanese. Only then did one of the translators explain, “Chairman Zou, Mr. He, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m here today at Chairman Zou’s request to discuss investment matters…”
He Guanchang’s heart jolted. When did Zou Wenhui discuss financing with the Japanese? He didn’t even know! He felt a surge of disappointment and powerlessness. He never expected Zou Wenhui to distrust him, someone who had helped found Jiahe…
Three days later, the boss who had left the Film Association meeting in anger sat there in a daze, filled with bitterness and rage. Standing in front of him was one of the representatives from the Philippine theater chains. In stiff Mandarin, the representative told him, “Terminate all contracts!”

The thin boss was furious. He knew Xiao Ran would take action, but he didn’t expect it to be so ruthless—cutting off his distribution network in one go. Though it wasn’t large, it was all his company had. He had already heard those same three sentences over the phone three times before, which meant his company had completely lost its distribution business.

Fifteen minutes later, Yonggao Film Line called to inform him that they would no longer feature films produced by his company. But the nightmare wasn’t over. In less than half an hour, the investor boss sent a representative who stated his position in just one sentence: “We’re pulling out our investment!”

Actors like Wu Yaohan and Feng Cuifan, who were filming a movie for his company, also came to see him. Feng Cuifan scratched his head and apologized to the thin boss, saying, “I’m sorry, President Huang. We’ve decided to withdraw from the film. I hope this won’t put you in a difficult position!”

“Just wait for my lawyer’s letter!” The thin boss’s name was Huang Yinglong. He wasn’t old, but having suffered hardships since childhood made him appear older. His face turned red with anger as he shouted at the actors, “You bunch of untrustworthy bastards!”

The actors smiled helplessly. They really didn’t want to do this, as they had worked together several times before. But now everyone in the industry knew that Huang Yinglong had offended Xiao Ran three days ago, and it would be lucky for him not to end up as miserable as Fang Ruohai.

Moreover, half an hour earlier, the entire industry received word that Xiao Ran wanted the company to shut down within three hours. All employees didn’t need to worry about their contracts, so they all chose to side with Shadow.

“It’s over, completely over!” Huang Yinglong muttered expressionlessly, but his eyes revealed despair, his face ashen. He never expected Xiao Ran to be so ruthless, determined to drive him to the brink.

Now with the big boss’s funds withdrawn and his distribution network severed, he couldn’t even release movies locally. Huang Yinglong knew that if he hadn’t withdrawn his investment or had other options, he could still negotiate with Jiahe for distribution. But now, with no funds left and his company burdened by bank loans, what could he use to repay them?

He could even guess that in less than half an hour, the bank’s seizure officers and collectors would arrive. He believed that since Xiao Ran had planned everything so meticulously, there was no reason he wouldn’t use this last method to push him to the absolute limit.

Instead of waiting to die, he staggered onto the rooftop. His face, once ashen, suddenly turned red, as if he had drunk a pound of Erguotou, though the despair in his eyes remained unchanged.

Ding ding ding—the pager rang. It was his secretary, informing him that the bank had sent seizure officers. Huang Yinglong smiled bitterly, walked slowly to the edge of the rooftop, and gazed at the cars below, tiny like toy cars, and the pedestrians, as small as ants. He knew that jumping would end all his troubles, but what about his wife and children?

Is it really interesting to carry around a mountain of debt for the rest of one’s life? Huang Yinglong suddenly laughed, a laugh that was utterly desolate and terrifying. He now regretted it deeply; if he hadn’t defied Xiao Ran three days ago out of stubbornness, he would likely still be comfortably and happily in the office enjoying the air conditioning.

He realized the next day that he had been utterly wrong—wrong in the most extreme way—because the proposal put forward by Xiao Ran might not have harmed their interests at all. Xiao Ran had agreed that as long as they handed the film to Shadow Distribution, Shadow would be willing to reduce its commission for a year to cover the increased production costs.

How frustrating! Just give up! Huang Yinglong closed his eyes and was about to take a step when he suddenly felt his arms grabbed tightly. When he opened his eyes, he saw that it was the taller of the two bodyguards who always followed Xiao Ran.

Meanwhile, Xiao Ran was in his president’s office, enjoying the newly launched magazine “Red,” which replaced “Influence” as the weekly publication distributed within the industry. Initially, “Influence” was meant for internal distribution only, but since it turned out to be very popular among ordinary people, it was later made available to all readers.

“Red,” on the other hand, was truly an industry-focused magazine, featuring listings of roles needed by various companies or talents sought by record labels. With a wealth of industry-specific information, the first issue sold a whopping 11,000 copies.

Xiao Ran had two intentions behind creating this magazine: first, to use it to expand the influence of Hong Kong’s entertainment industry, similar to Hollywood’s internal publications like “Variety” and “Hollywood Reporter”; second, to discover untapped talents.

Making money was secondary. But Xiao Ran believed it was possible, especially since there were already 18,000 people working in Hong Kong’s film industry. With such internal magazines being distributed to everyone in the industry, the sales figures weren’t bad at all.

After flipping through the magazine briefly and being satisfied, he then opened the comprehensive roster he had spent so long compiling. Of course, it wasn’t the roster of the Red Flower Society from “Fong Sai Yuk,” but rather a list of people working in Hong Kong’s film industry.

Xiao Ran tried to find some talents he might have overlooked before, but unfortunately, he couldn’t remember many people in detail. Many names were only familiar to him, and the list might not even be complete.

Searching by letter, he reached the “H” page and flipped through it for a long time but still couldn’t find the names of Huang Yinghua and Huang Jiaqian—two outstanding individuals. Huang Yinghua’s skill in handling music scores was extremely rare in the Chinese film industry. In “Kung Fu,” he used folk music pieces such as “The March of the Warriors,” “General of Sichuan,” “Ambush from All Sides,” “Song of the Eastern Sea Fishermen,” “Suite of the Small Knife Society,” and “The Heroes Conquer the Dadu River,” blending them together masterfully to create a truly exceptional atmosphere.

Xiao Ran vaguely remembered that Huang Yinghua had won the 14th Golden Statue Award in history. Suddenly, he recalled that Huang Yinghua had only returned to Hong Kong and joined the film industry in 1994. Thinking of this, he couldn’t help feeling regretful.

As for Huang Jiaqian, Xiao Ran didn’t value her as much as he had imagined, as she had few works. His impression of her was limited to “The Birth of a Character,” “The Boss’s Story,” and “Big Boss.” Still, she could probably be considered a relatively talented musician.

Unfortunately, the top-notch score composers Xiao Ran favored were not among them. His frustration was needless to say. Having Zhong Zhirong would truly strengthen the film scoring department.

However, after checking, he saw a familiar name there—Zheng Zhaoqiang! Xiao Ran’s heart pounded. If it really was the Zheng Zhaoqiang from his memory, then he had truly struck gold.

After glancing at the films and roles Zheng Zhaoqiang had worked on, Xiao Ran was sure this was the master he was looking for. Without exaggeration, more than a decade later, Galaxy Images had gathered the highest-caliber talent in Hong Kong.

Historically, Zheng Zhaoqiang had been Eason Chan’s favorite photographer. The movie “PTU” in Xiao Ran’s memory was shot by him. His mastery of the camera and understanding of lighting were truly extraordinary, especially in balancing motion and stillness, reaching a peak level.

Without Zheng Zhaoqiang’s photographic skills, Eason Chan would have found it difficult to convey emotions and themes through visuals. Even Zheng’s later disciple, Tao Hongwu, was a highly skilled photographer. To Xiao Ran’s surprise, Zheng had also worked as the photographer for “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.”

Considering all this, he could barely be considered part of “Shadow.” Xiao Ran took a red pen, circled the name, and wrote “Sign” below it. Signing him meant elevating Zheng Zhaoqiang to a status similar to Huang Yongheng, as Shadow had signed only a few photographers, all of whom were top experts.

As he continued to sift through the talented individuals in his memory, An Yuxuan’s voice came through the phone: “President Xiao, Mr. Yangguang and President Huang have arrived!”

“Let them in!” Xiao Ran smiled faintly, his gaze still fixed on the roster. Personally, he admired Huang Yinglong, but right now was the time when he had to use tough measures to dominate Hong Kong’s film industry. Anyone who dared challenge Shadow had to be eliminated.

Huang Yinglong, still looking gloomy, entered. At first glance, he saw Xiao Ran working at his desk. He didn’t understand why Xiao Ran still wanted to see him after destroying his company—was it to humiliate him?

“You’re here? Sit down!” Xiao Ran quietly studied the list, circled another name, then looked up at Huang Yinglong, who seemed displeased. He smiled lightly and said, “President Huang, sit down and let’s talk slowly.”

“What do you think there is left to talk about?” Huang Yinglong was now desperate. If he could, he would even strangle Xiao Ran.

“President Huang, I’m sure you really want to kill me right now!” Xiao Ran smiled faintly. He would have had the same thought if he were in his place. “But don’t forget the rules I set. Those who break the rules must face punishment!”
“Why do you get to set rules? Why should everyone listen to you?” Huang Yinglong blurted out without even thinking. As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized he had made a huge mistake.
“Why? You ask why? Hahaha!” Xiao Ran couldn’t help but laugh loudly. Suddenly stopping, he stared straight into Huang Yinglong’s eyes. “It’s because I’m Xiao Ran. Do you think I still don’t deserve to set rules now?”