Chapter 202: Darkness That Chills the Soul

By capturing Xi Jie and establishing the strongest and most perfect distribution network in all of Asia, Xiao Ran believed that even Hollywood would be unable to stop his progress in Asia. After sharing this goal with Wei Dongling, Xiao Ran then explained the issue regarding actors.

On the surface, it seemed that if Fa Ge and the others left Shadow, it would only bring harm with no benefits. Why would Xiao Ran do such a foolish thing? As the person in charge of film operations, Xiao Ran was well aware that there were too many stars working with Shadow, and even the members of this year’s Starlight Program hadn’t managed to shoot a single film yet!

By handing over some of these stars to Mo Huaien, he could take the opportunity to give newcomers a chance. Of course, this didn’t mean that big stars were suppressing newcomers—it was simply that their presence hindered the rise of new talent, just like how a coach selects players for a football team.

It’s worth mentioning Shadow’s Starlight Program, which typically lasts for five years, during which some stars become popular while others decline. After that, ten are chosen from them to become the elite, eventually turning into superstars.

Therefore, the Starlight Program must continue. By handing over Fa Ge and the others to Mo Huaien now, Xiao Ran believed he could get them back within half a year. This would mean they would still earn income, while newcomers would get a chance to stand out—plus other benefits. It was truly killing several birds with one stone.

Wei Dongling nodded in agreement. He wasn’t very familiar with the specifics of film business, but since Xiao Ran said so, it must make sense. Still, he had a question: “How do you plan to ensure you can get them back?”

“It’s simple!” Xiao Ran smiled mysteriously. “Just bring down Hongguo. If we try to acquire it, no one will dare compete with us. Then the contracts will be ours. The key to defeating them lies in funding…”

Wei Dongling suddenly understood. Helping filmmakers was undoubtedly beneficial. With actors and crew members at his disposal, Mo Huaien would definitely start shooting films, and the production cycle for each film would generally increase to half a year. This meant that by knocking down Hongguo and its two backing companies, Mo Huaien would essentially be funding films for Shadow, indirectly helping Xiao Ran raise actor salaries.

That day, Xiao Ran and his team discussed a lot and made numerous calls. As for what they were actually doing, we can quite guess…

That evening, the leaders of the three major companies came together to meet with Xiao Ran. At Xiao Ran’s home, he was leisurely watching a ATV program with his wife. Pan Disheng and the others arrived at an awkward time, ruining the atmosphere between the couple.

Seeing this, Pan Disheng was secretly amazed. Despite things being so bad, Xiao Ran could still relax and watch TV—he couldn’t help but admire him. Yang Qi, on the other hand, knew his friend well and understood that Xiao Ran simply loved to enjoy life, so he wasn’t surprised at all.

“Come on, treat it like your own home. Just sit down!” Xiao Ran was currently enjoying the program “Award Gatekeeper.” Don’t think that because Zeng Zhiwei was young, he couldn’t handle the situation—he actually made the show more interesting due to his youth and energy.

Lin Qingxia stood up with a smile and asked them to sit on the sofa. Only then did Xiao Ran reluctantly turn his gaze away from the TV and address the three executives, “So, what brings you three here in person?”
Lin Qingxia couldn’t help but laugh inwardly; she realized her husband was quite good at acting. Pan Disheng gave a wry smile and glanced at Xiao Ran, who kept smiling, saying, “A Ran, stop playing tricks on us. You should know exactly why we’re here!”
After the Filipino maid brought the tea, Xiao Ran took Lin Qingxia’s hand and smiled meaningfully, “It’s going to rain, and my mother is getting married—let it be. It won’t cause any big trouble.”
Lei Kaitai thought he understood Xiao Ran well, but he still couldn’t fathom his intentions. He asked tentatively, “Do you mean to just let it go? That would break the rules!”
“Actually, what we mean is that perhaps you should take the lead…” Yang Qi added, “To work together to suppress it, preventing anyone from producing its films. What do you think?”
“There’s no need to do that. I’m a legitimate businessman!” Xiao Ran stood upright, appearing upright and righteous. As the three of them snickered, his next words revealed his true thoughts: “But maybe we shouldn’t. They entered through proper channels…”
“Do you know who’s in charge of Hongguo? Tie Long, the one who was poached by Jiahe back then!” Although Lei Kaitai was shrewd, seeing Xiao Ran so relaxed as if on vacation, he couldn’t help but get anxious. “So Jiahe’s insiders are all here in Hongguo. That kid Mo Huaien has been planning this for a long time!”
“Planning for a long time?” Xiao Ran tilted his head, looking at Lin Qingxia’s delicate hand. He hadn’t noticed Tie Long before; now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen that person’s name during the restructuring of Jiahe. If it was indeed a long-term plan, there must be a reason: “What’s there to worry about? He hasn’t broken the rules yet. If he does, there will be rules to deal with him!”
What rules? They’re clearly the rules you set! The three of them couldn’t help but smile bitterly inwardly, but suddenly realizing something, they all looked up at Xiao Ran. Yet he merely smiled back, refusing to reveal anything.
From Xiao Ran, they got nothing but doubts. He found it amusing—he had helped Tianluo get a foothold in the industry back then, and now he didn’t expect Yang Qi to become one of the rule-enforcers too. How interesting it was how people’s roles could change.
The next day, Hongguo acquired 51% of the controlling stake in Carson, Europe’s largest distribution company, and also announced it had secured the rights to operate theaters in South Korea. After rough calculations, Xiao Ran and Wei Dongling determined that Hongguo must have spent at least 3 to 3.5 billion Hong Kong dollars on this. Upon reaching this conclusion, they exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable.

On the fourth day, while Xiao Ran was working in his office, Chen Musheng suddenly called to tell him that Hongguo was trying to poach him! Xiao Ran immediately frowned and went to Wei Dongling’s office to discuss it. Wei Dongling also frowned—this was a serious matter. As they pondered a solution, within a few minutes, Han Long from the planning department knocked on the door and said to Xiao Ran and Wei Dongling with a serious expression, “Several of the company’s artists have already joined Hongguo…” Xiao Ran and Wei Dongling exchanged a glance and tried hard to suppress their smiles. In fact, they both thought this could also be a way to test the artists’ loyalty to the company. What made Hongguo more cunning than Hailuo was that it only poached film professionals and actors, never touching the administrative staff of Meiying. Indeed, Mo Huaien had tried later, but only managed to get two unimportant minor roles. After exchanging a glance with Wei Dongling, he immediately made a decision: “Announce to everyone that salaries will be increased by 20% on top of the original amount!” But on the third day, Hongguo raised salaries by a full 50%. This attracted many artists to switch to Hongguo, including big stars like Liu Hua and Liang Chaowei. It’s no exaggeration to say that about 60% of Meiying’s big stars and top artists left. Don’t think Meiying had few artists—on the contrary, it had quite a few. There were roughly thirteen or fourteen who could be considered box-office drawcards, and this time, except for Su Renyao and Brother Fa, almost all of them left. Hongguo offered extremely generous terms—those willing to join could sign contracts for two years and three films. Behind these binding contracts were piles of money; every contract meant cash. A typical example was Liu Hua, whose current value was two million, but Hongguo offered three million. With the increased salary, three film contracts meant a total of 11 million. Each of these top stars was roughly worth that much. This meant Hongguo had to pay 100 to 200 million for just one contract, and if you included artists from Debao and Tianluo, the figure would be even higher. Yet, this wasn’t over. Soon after, Xiao Ran received a report from the star agency: Brother Fa and Wu Yusen had both switched to Hongguo! Xiao Ran immediately smiled, as it seemed everything was pushing Meiying’s film business into a dead end. That happened not long ago. Mo Huaien and Tie Long were waiting leisurely in a high-end restaurant. Mo Huaien wasn’t confident about poaching Brother Fa, as he knew more or less that Brother Fa had a good personal relationship with Xiao Ran—someone like Zhong Chuhong refused to come over. “Will Zhou Runfa and Wu Yusen really come? And it’s said they have a good relationship with Xiao Ran.” Mo Huaien stared at Tie Long skeptically. It was only natural to leave professional matters to professionals. So, Tie Long was clearly highly skilled. “President Mo, it’s hard to say, but if they come, we can discuss it!” Tie Long smiled casually. “Personal relationships are one thing; work is another. That’s how things work in this industry—separating personal and professional matters.”

Mo Huaien’s expression turned slightly stern. He hadn’t intended to poach Wu Yufen and Wu Yusen at first, as he thought it would be impossible to do so. Moreover, before founding Hongguo Company, he hadn’t even considered such poaching attempts, given that Shadow’s financial strength far surpassed his own.

However, not long before the company was established, Mo Huaien received reliable assurances. Thus, he chose this approach. In fact, this couldn’t really be considered poaching from Shadow, as although most famous stars were currently signed to Shadow’s talent agency, they had no contractual relationship with Shadow’s headquarters.

That is to say, from the perspective of their agents, those stars belonged to Shadow Company. But from the perspective of filming, they were essentially free agents, as Shadow hadn’t signed any film contracts with them.

Still, some actors like Liu Hua had signed contracts with Shadow for their next project, forcing Mo Huaien to pay them breach of contract fees. He knew Xiao Ran didn’t care about this money, nor did he himself, but the key was talent—having capable people was what truly mattered.

With such poaching, Shadow naturally had little to say. It was because they hadn’t signed multiple film contracts with the stars in a timely manner. Xiao Ran didn’t like such contracts, as they often forced actors to play roles that suited them poorly. Just like Liu Qingyun over a decade later, who ended up acting in countless clichéd comedies after signing several contracts with China Star at once.

This was merely Hongguo getting there first; logically, there was no reason to blame Hongguo. Yet it was obvious to everyone that this was a large-scale poaching campaign, and it was only possible because Mo Huaien had so much money!

He really wanted to get Zhou Runfa and Wu Yusen, but Xu Ke rejected him right away. Still, he had to admit that if Wu Yusen were willing to join, he would definitely help pay the breach of contract fee. Wu Yusen was one of Shadow’s contracted directors, and switching to Hongguo would definitely be a breach of contract legally.

Yet Mo Huaien was still surprised by his own achievements, or rather, he sensed some conspiracy and asked cautiously, “Tielong, I’m still puzzled. Shadow is much stronger than Hongguo—there’s no reason for the stars to join us! And I heard Xiao Ran is a crime boss’s godfather—aren’t they afraid of him?”

Tielong was both amused and exasperated. His boss was truly ridiculous. The people had come, yet he, an old man, was still unwilling and insisted on suspecting their motives. He wished he could shout in Mo Huaien’s ear, “It’s money!” But since his boss was his employer, if he didn’t want to lose his job, he had to explain patiently.

“It’s simple,” Tielong explained carefully, feeling like a nanny. “Xiao Ran didn’t care in the past if the stars he trained worked for other companies, and I believe he still doesn’t. Besides, Xiao Ran started out relying on popularity and wealth—he needs stars at all times, so the stars aren’t afraid of him in that regard! Moreover, most of them have already signed contracts with us—what’s there to worry about?”

At this point, Tie Long smiled slyly. “Besides, no matter how wealthy Xiao Ran is, if he poaches them back, it will definitely affect the market. It’s likely to cause dissatisfaction among the other three companies. Wouldn’t that mean we’ve lost three allies? I’m not sure about Xiao Ran’s ties to the underworld, but if he resorts to such tactics against his peers, it’s like shooting himself in the foot and ruining his reputation.”

Mo Huaien smiled in understanding. After all, he wasn’t a professional and didn’t know the rules of the entertainment industry. With Tie Long’s explanation, he realized there was probably no conspiracy involved. Most stars already had contracts lasting over two years, with hefty breach-of-contract fees.

Even if Meiying tried to poach them back, it would cost a lot, and he could still profit from it. After all, making movies wasn’t his original intention; Guoli just wanted to make a quick buck. If he wanted to back out later, it would be a piece of cake.

Just then, Brother Fa and Wu Yusen arrived. After sitting down, Mo Huaien glanced at them and considered the possibilities. He really wanted to get these two, especially Brother Fa, who was the top male star in Southeast Asia. Having him meant guaranteed box office success.

“Brother Fa, are you interested in coming to Hongguo?” In the small place of Hong Kong, Tie Long and Zhou Runfa had met a few times before. Without hesitation, he asked directly, “In one word: Hongguo offers 25 million!”

Brother Fa and Wu Yusen exchanged a look, their eyes showing strange expressions. After hesitating, Brother Fa said, “That’s not good. You know my relationship with Xiao Ran. If…”

“There’s no such thing. The artists we’ve signed are just those who slipped through Meiying’s cracks,” Tie Long laughed. “It’s called fair competition. Monopoly isn’t good! How about this: 30 million, three movies in two years. The price Xiao Ran offers you will definitely be less than this!”

Brother Fa and Wu Yusen looked at each other again, their eyes gleaming. Brother Fa hesitated once more, then nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with joy. “I agree, but you’re not allowed to compete my movies against Meiying’s!”

It was hard to say if Mo Huaien was truly surprised. Brother Fa was well-known for his loyalty in the industry. From Brother Fa’s perspective, there was no reason to abandon Meiying and join Hongguo so easily. He had every reason to suspect some conspiracy, but since both Brother Fa and Wu Yusen had signed contracts under his financial pressure, what was there to worry about on the surface?

Moreover, Brother Fa had made it clear that his movies wouldn’t compete with Meiying’s, which seemed to prove his loyalty. Thinking this, Mo Huaien comforted himself with these seemingly reasonable reasons. Things had come this far, and even if he wanted to change his mind, he couldn’t. Most importantly, he had no choice. To produce movies, he needed people, and whether there was a conspiracy or not, he had to use them.

Even if it was some scheme by Xiao Ran, he wasn’t afraid at all. Mo Huaien thought to himself, “Now that I’ve poached almost everyone I could use, let’s see what you can do!”

At least 70% of the stars have left, and several people from the film industry have also gone, such as Wu Yusen and Du Qifeng, plus Wang Jiawei and others. Interestingly, apart from screenwriters, some of the other behind-the-scenes workers have also left one after another.

Xiao Ran let out a long sigh. It was a pity about Wang Jiawei, a talent who could have dragged down film companies to their knees. If given a year, he would surely be able to play his role. But it was unlikely that Hongguo could survive even half a year. As soon as the head of the film department entered the room, he was shocked—Xiao Ran and Wei Dongling were both staring at him with dark expressions.

“Did I interrupt your meeting?” This was bad, extremely bad. Even a blind person could tell it was bad. Of course, the head of the department knew what to do and immediately repeated the orders he’d been given: “To maintain the stable development of the film industry, none of your companies are allowed to raise prices anymore, nor are they allowed to use unfair competitive tactics. This is our latest decision!”

“Is that so?” Xiao Ran’s expression changed slightly, becoming even darker and more terrifying. He stepped forward and said grimly, “They’re allowed to raise prices in Hongguo, but not us at Shadow! How wonderful, truly wonderful!”

Though he said it as if it were wonderful, Xiao Ran’s expression made it clear it was sarcasm. Faced with Xiao Ran’s menacing look, the head of the department couldn’t help but take a step back, inwardly cursing. He thought, Damn it, I’ve become a scapegoat for the Brits.

But he didn’t dare say any of this out loud. He forced himself to suppress his fear, tightened his facial muscles, and said sternly, “If any company dares to violate this, they’ll face fines at the least, and reorganization at the worst. Those who repeat the offense will be forced to shut down.”

Wei Dongling was stunned, and Xiao Ran even more so. What kind of stupid law was this? It was clearly aimed at Shadow. The Hong Kong-British government really went to great lengths to suppress Shadow!

Wei Dongling trembled all over, his face turning red—obviously furious. Seeing the situation turning unfavorable, with both of them looking like they wanted to eat him alive, the head of the department immediately turned and fled. Less than three seconds after he left, Xiao Ran and Wei Dongling couldn’t help but smile and sit down comfortably.

What to do? The fastest way to make money in business is to build relationships with the government, but it’s also the most dangerous. This time, Xiao Ran truly understood that saying. He also understood why Mo Huaien dared to act recklessly. With government support, one could practically do whatever they wanted.

Did they really have to play the mainland government card? Xiao Ran didn’t want to rely on the mainland government, as that might lead to even bigger problems in the future. Only by staying relatively neutral politically could Shadow become a global film empire. Sometimes, politics inevitably became a constraint.

What was the benefit for the Hong Kong-British government to do this? Wei Dongling didn’t understand, but Xiao Ran knew exactly. Britain didn’t intend to leave Hong Kong as an international financial center; they even wanted to destroy it with a nuclear bomb before handing it over to the Chinese government.

A nuclear bomb was obviously out of the question, but they could create chaos economically and in other areas. And that’s exactly what happened. If it weren’t for the deliberate actions of the Hong Kong-British government, the subsequent financial crisis might not have occurred.

The film industry was originally unlikely to encounter such threats. However, the British government in Hong Kong had always been aware that the mainland harbored ambitions toward Hong Kong’s film industry. Decades earlier, there were already several companies from the mainland funding Hong Kong’s film industry, such as Phoenix, which later merged to form Yin Du. In the 1950s and 1960s, the struggle between leftists and rightists became even more intense.

But the Cultural Revolution in the 1960s and 1970s forced the leftists to retreat, giving the upper hand to rightists and independent filmmakers. Yet the emergence of Yin Du still indicated that the mainland government had not given up on this art form with wide influence. By the 1980s, independent filmmakers completely took control, but due to market reasons, they leaned toward Taiwan and even organized filmmakers to celebrate the birthday of Chiang Kai-shek in Taiwan.

This situation was clearly something the British government in Hong Kong welcomed, which is why Yin Du joined the Film Association but hardly attended its meetings. The rise of Mei Ying seemed insignificant on the surface, and the mainland government had only expressed mild concern about the rampant gang activity in Hong Kong last time. Still, the British government suspected that Mei Ying had some connection to the mainland.

Moreover, Mei Ying was the second film company, after Yin Du, that could shoot and distribute films in the mainland without script approval. The only difference between Mei Ying and Yin Du was that Mei Ying’s films still needed to go through censorship after production, while Yin Du did not and enjoyed a status even higher than domestic films. From Yin Du’s treatment, one could see how much importance the mainland attached to Hong Kong’s film industry.

In fact, the British government did not doubt Mei Ying’s political stance. After all, its owner, Xiao Ran, hadn’t even set foot in the mainland for the first twenty years, so there was no such thing as a political stance to speak of. They simply believed that Xiao Ran had made certain compromises to the mainland, as evidenced by his efforts to train filmmakers for them—clearly as a form of exchange.

Strictly speaking, the British government wasn’t targeting Mei Ying specifically but rather the entire film industry. For them, the more chaotic things got, the better. After all, it was a Chinese-language film industry—what did it matter to them? As long as they could make a profit, that was enough.

Now, Xiao Ran even suspects that it was the tacit approval of the British government that allowed the underworld to wreak havoc in the film industry. A typical example is that in the early 1990s, film companies with a criminal background, such as Xiang Qiang’s Yong Sheng, drastically raised actors’ salaries, pushing those of Zhou Xingchi and others to 8 million or even 10 million. As a result, production costs plummeted, leading to shoddy Hong Kong films.

The peak of Hong Kong films historically was in 1993, when the average production cost was only around 10 to 20 million. And half of that went to the stars—probably not even a 1:2 ratio.

Now, everything is well planned. All that’s left is to wait for Mo Huaien and his collaborators to fall into the trap. It’s just like how hunters catch their prey…

*****
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Chapter 203: Misfortunes Never Come Alone

Xiao Ran chuckled lightly. If this wasn’t all part of his plan, it would definitely be a devastating blow. If he were a sensible movie company boss who analyzed everything but lacked sufficient power, his best option would be to leave Hong Kong immediately and go to Hollywood to make films. But he wasn’t like that—even without considering the underworld, he was still one of Hong Kong’s most influential tycoons. Chinese-language films couldn’t be made in Taiwan, let alone on the Chinese mainland, which currently belonged entirely to no one, not even him. Hong Kong was truly a city with unique advantages, not only in finance but also in film.

How to cut off the behind-the-scenes manipulators of the British Hong Kong government? This was something both Xiao Ran and Wei Dongling were considering. After much hesitation, Xiao Ran finally gritted his teeth and made a decision: “Treat this whole thing as if it never happened!” It wasn’t about inaction but about patience, and Xiao Ran had no lack of patience. If he could endure Fang Ruohai for half a year, he could do even better now.

Liu Hua, Liang Chaowei, Feng Feier, Wang Zuxian, and others—these were all people whom Shadow had painstakingly nurtured, investing time, effort, and a great deal of money to bring them to prominence. Now they had fallen into Mo Huaien’s hands. What should have been a cause for joy was leaving him utterly frustrated, even turning a few of his hairs white. Such an unreasonable situation had actually happened, yet he had no idea Xiao Ran was involved in any scheme—since the contracts of the film professionals were in Mo Huaien’s hands, even if people like Fa Ge were undercover, it wouldn’t make any difference.

Just as he was discussing with Wei Dongling how to proceed, a call came from the United States—from the head of Light Magic. He delivered rather unfortunate news to Xiao Ran: half of Light Magic’s technical staff had resigned, and at the same time, Lucas had founded another computer graphics company called Visual.

It finally happened! That was Xiao Ran’s only thought as he let out a soft sigh. He had already offered the best treatment to Light Magic’s technical staff, but they still couldn’t compete with the charm of their former boss, Lucas.

Lucas, Lucas! Xiao Ran shared this news with Wei Dongling, who was immediately stunned. It was hard to describe Wei Dongling’s feelings, but at least he had seen computer graphics technology that was far ahead of the world and believed it held great potential.

He had originally wondered why Xiao Ran wanted to acquire Light Magic and Pixar, since Shadow already had its own special effects and animation teams. But after seeing Xiao Ran gradually bring over the talented people from Light Magic to Hong Kong, he realized that these people were also top experts, some even better than Shadow’s original technical staff.

The reason Shadow was able to create the liquid metal man first wasn’t because it surpassed Light Magic technically, but because Xiao Ran provided the right and specific direction for technical research. Light Magic lacked this, which put them at a disadvantage.

But that didn’t mean Light Magic’s technology was inferior to Shadow’s. Before Shadow acquired Light Magic’s talent, its technology was indeed weaker. After all, Light Magic had accumulated years of experience, while Shadow’s special effects lab, though composed of the world’s best experts, was still a bit younger.

However, after acquiring some of Light Magic’s staff, this team quickly became well-coordinated. Light Magic originally thought it was the best in the world, but when they saw the liquid metal figures created by Phantom, they were forced to admit its superiority. Learning that Phantom had invested billions in this area over just two or three years and still maintained high salaries for its technicians, they saw it as an excellent working environment, which is why they retained those talents.

Never treat Light Magic as a myth. Before creating the liquid metal figures in 1991, Light Magic was very poor, with a market value far lower than that of Skywalker. Of course, it was difficult for them to allocate much money to special effects, which was Phantom’s advantage—It can invest billions in special effects over two or three years, something Lucas couldn’t even match. With Light Magic’s experience, today’s special effects team can now compete with Light Magic in terms of both capability and other aspects.

The whole world knows Lucas’s obsession with film technology, and Xiao Ran is no exception. Back when he acquired Light Magic, he considered wiping Lucas out completely to prevent Light Magic’s staff from being poached, because he knew Lucas had enough of those $300 million to revive his company. Unfortunately, he wasn’t ruthless enough, and Lucas happily used the $300 million to try other things. Now that he’s finished experimenting and wants to return to special effects, it’s Xiao Ran’s turn to worry. It seems that sometimes winning and losing aren’t just about surface appearances.

All these issues piling up at once is truly bizarre! Xiao Ran didn’t give any specific instructions; he just told the person in charge to bring Lucas to Hong Kong—he wanted to meet him. After temporarily dealing with this situation, which could lead to a dual dominance in special effects in the future, Xiao Ran continued to figure out how to resolve the current crisis.

With the support of the British Hong Kong government, Hongguo will surely be able to hold its ground. Talking about forcing Hongguo to collapse now would be utterly foolish. For now, the only option seems to be to wear them down, just like during the confrontation with Hailuo before the decisive battle, to make Mo Huaien suspicious.

Unless Xiao Ran is willing to buy Honglian at a high price, Mo Huaien will definitely agree. After all, he’s in it for the money—why wouldn’t he agree? Moreover, by selling to Xiao Ran, they could use that money to build an even bigger film company, which would be even better.

Of course, neither Xiao Ran nor Wei Dongling would be that stupid. Or perhaps they could use the same method they used against Toei—acquiring Guoli. On the surface, this seems like a good approach. Guoli’s various industries are worth only about $10 billion, and Phantom’s vast cash reserves are more than enough.

But isn’t that just giving money away? Even if Guoli disappears, there are still companies like Guotai National that can continue investing and won’t be affected at all. It’s not like what they did with Jiahé before—where they completely defeated Zou Wenhui in that battle and Xiao Ran also acquired Toei. That was truly worthwhile. Besides, Xiao Ran wants to make money from Guoli, not lose money.

Thus, Xiao Ran and Meiying were forced onto a path with only one option: to confront Hongguo head-on. At least on the surface, Hongguo already had the strength to compete with Meiying in the local market. If they could suppress Meiying’s films throughout the year, entering Southeast Asia would be no problem at all.

But was that possible? How could amateurs who rushed into the industry master the artistic and commercial nuances as well as Xiao Ran did? The consequences of such hasty entry were almost always quick profits, chasing easy money—something Xiao Ran absolutely refused to see happen, nor did he want his hard-earned Hong Kong film empire to collapse.

Fortunately, Hongguo was now more of a production company than a distribution one, with its distribution agents only controlling the Korean market, leaving little room for greater profits. Moreover, all the production and distribution companies in Hong Kong were firmly on Meiying’s side. Simply put, if Hongguo wanted to distribute its own films, it had to go through foreign film distributors or the other four giants.

However, perhaps both you and I can sense why Xiao Ran didn’t accept the proposals from the three major companies to join forces and drive Hongguo out—it was definitely feasible. Xiao Ran had only one seemingly valid answer: Hongguo had the backing of the Hong Kong British government!

At noon, Lin Qingxia and Zhong Chuhong hurried over to have lunch at a restaurant. Lin Qingxia didn’t feel like eating anything; she simply fiddled with her knife and fork on the steak, looking at Xiao Ran worriedly. “Hua Zai and Wei Zai have both gone to Hongguo. Aren’t you angry at all?”

Zhong Chuhong also couldn’t eat. She rushed over because she was afraid Xiao Ran would be upset after hearing the news. When this was mentioned, Xiao Ran showed no reaction, so Wei Dongling raised his hand as if to strike, but remembered they were in a restaurant and stopped abruptly, anger flashing across his face. “These guys don’t even think about how much money the company spent to make them famous.” Xiao Ran couldn’t stop smiling—he thought Wei Dongling might as well become an actor.

Zhong Chuhong understood Wei Dongling’s words well; she was quite aware of Meiying’s Starlight Plan. Leaving acting aside, Meiying still saw some returns, but in terms of advertising, it was almost entirely a loss. This year, in order to support the company’s push for Miao Liyun, who starred in Terminator 2, the star management company even paid out of its own pocket for advertisements.

So, it was understandable why Hua Zai, Wei Zai, and Feng Feier’s defection to Hongguo made Wei Dongling so angry that his neck turned red. Strangely enough, Xiao Ran seemed unfazed, as if nothing had happened or as if it had no impact on Meiying at all.

“There’s no need to be angry. People strive for higher positions, and water flows downhill!” Xiao Ran smiled lightly, appearing calm and composed.

Lin Qingxia glanced at him in confusion. She knew Xiao Ran well. In front of outsiders, it was fine for him to appear calm. But in front of these close people, if he was upset, it was hard for him to hide it—such was his personality.

Under normal circumstances, if Xiao Ran always had such an expression in front of her, it meant there really was nothing wrong. But Lin Qingxia absolutely didn’t believe that Hongguo’s large-scale signing had no impact on Xiao Ran at all. Moreover, she felt that there seemed to be something between Xiao Ran and Wei Dongling that they were hiding from her.

As she was thinking, Xiao Ran’s hand, which was under the table, grasped hers and gave it a gentle squeeze, without saying anything. Lin Qingxia was instantly stunned, then confirmed that Xiao Ran was definitely hiding something from her. At that moment, Zhong Chuhong stared at Xiao Ran’s slightly darkened face, concern showing in her eyes: “But then, the company will have no one left!”

“What does that matter? The star company still has plenty of newcomers to try out!” Xiao Ran forced a smile; it was indeed the only option he had left. “Don’t worry, this won’t stump us! By the way, Aunt Hong, when are you and Jia Ding getting married?”

“Married?” Zhong Chuhong was clearly taken aback for a moment before smiling. “We haven’t planned that yet. Besides, I’m not in a hurry—why should you be?”

“Of course I am! I’ve even prepared a villa as a wedding gift for you!” Xiao Ran joked, though it seemed rather forced to Aunt Hong. “If I don’t give it to you now when property prices are high, I’ll lose a lot later!”

After seeing Zhong Chuhong leave, the happy expressions on Xiao Ran and Wei Dongling’s faces gradually disappeared, replaced by solemnity. Back in the office, Lin Qingxia quickly asked, “What exactly happened? Are you hiding something from me?”

“Really, nothing!” Xiao Ran gave her a subtle signal, and Wei Dongling immediately understood, quietly stepping out and closing the door behind him. Then Xiao Ran gently wrapped an arm around his wife and led her to the window, staring quietly down below. “There are some things you’d better not know!”

Lin Qingxia was slightly stunned. It seemed she understood what Xiao Ran wanted to do. She sighed softly and leaned against his shoulder. “Hongguo is advancing so aggressively—can you really handle it? What on earth is Mo Huaien thinking? Isn’t he in real estate?”

“Well, I think he’s here for you. He’s quite infatuated with you. It’s said he’s over thirty and still unmarried because he wants to marry you.” Xiao Ran smiled lightly, thinking that women were easy to deal with, and quickly shifted the topic skillfully. “It’s a pity I beat him to it!”

“Don’t joke. You said Mo Huaien is very practical and cautious. What do you plan to do?” Lin Qingxia tapped Xiao Ran’s restless hand gently and asked softly.

“Well…” Xiao Ran pondered for a while. The most important elements for making movies were talent and capital, and Hongguo already had both. This seemed difficult. “Let’s put it aside for now. I’ll deal with it once I’m free.”

What kind of solution was that? Lin Qingxia thought for a moment. Although Shadow’s core business was movies, if the movie business really faced difficulties, it wouldn’t have a huge impact on Shadow. With that thought, she felt a bit more at ease—this was one of the advantages of diversifying industries.

The next day, the artists who had fled to Hongguo all planned to meet Xiao Ran in person, hoping to explain themselves. But Xiao Ran refused to see these “traitors.” On the third day, Lucas arrived. After someone was sent to pick him up and he was arranged to stay at a hotel, Xiao Ran finally met with him in his office.

Lucas was a bit fatter than during their first meeting, probably because having hundreds of millions of dollars at his disposal had made him quite happy. He was deeply confused by Xiao Ran inviting him over, and what troubled him even more was his unease and fear. When he heard that Xiao Ran wanted to see him, he almost instinctively refused, only then realizing just how afraid he was of this Eastern devil.

After thinking it over, he still came, even though he had no real reason. However, he believed that Xiao Ran wouldn’t let him make the trip for nothing—this Eastern devil would offer him the best material pleasures, but meeting with him would be a psychological and mental torment.

Taking in the “devil” in his mind, he saw that this “devil” seemed a bit thinner than last time, but still very energetic, especially with the smile in his eyes that gave off a friendly impression. Yet, Lucas was still quite fearful.

“George, I heard you plan to start a new computer effects company?” This time, Xiao Ran didn’t adopt a domineering stance. Any attitude could be useful—what mattered was using it skillfully. “Are there any difficulties?”

“Mr. Xiao, with three hundred million dollars, I think there are no difficulties in this world!” Facing such a smile, Lucas’s vigilance eased considerably, and he even retorted, “And now that you have billions of dollars, I guess you want to buy the whole Earth!”

*****

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Chapter 204: The Acquisition Is Complete

“No, no, no, you’re wrong!” Xiao Ran sat across from Lucas, smiling lightly as he waved his finger. “If I wanted to buy something, it wouldn’t be Earth—it would be the Moon. That’s the first step toward entering space. What do you think?”

Lucas was speechless. This guy really wanted to buy a planet! Realizing this, he suddenly understood that Xiao Ran wasn’t talking about a planet but was using it as a metaphor for setting ambitious goals that others dare not pursue.

His eyes lit up suddenly. He stared intently at Xiao Ran, trying to find any clues on his face. Unfortunately, Xiao Ran was an expert at controlling his expressions and gaze, so he couldn’t detect anything unusual.

“Alright, Mr. Xiao. I guess you can tell me why you asked me to come to Hong Kong!” Lucas spread his hands, thinking that Xiao Ran was indeed a cunning businessman. “I don’t want to play guessing games with you!”

“Of course, I don’t like playing guessing games either!” As soon as these words came out, Xiao Ran burst into silent laughter. He must have played many guessing games before. “What do you think is the most profitable thing to do in the world? Tell me!”

This question is indeed not easy to answer—arms trafficking or drug trafficking? Lucas thought for a moment before replying, “Arms trafficking is the most profitable in the world. I think that’s the case!”
Xiao Ran chuckled and gently waved his finger. “No, the most profitable thing in the world is monopoly! Only through monopoly can one control everything and turn one’s products into the greatest profit. You understand what I mean.”
He did understand, but what exactly did it refer to? Student Lucas felt a headache coming on. He picked up his glass and took a sip before staring at Xiao Ran in confusion. “Mr. Xiao, just tell me straight. You know I don’t like beating around the bush!”
Xiao Ran couldn’t help but burst into laughter. This guy was really interesting. It was hard to imagine how he had managed to bring Light Magic to such glory in the future. He nodded at Lucas and led him to the window, then said, “George, I can see what’s on the other side of the sea. You can see it too. Why do we have to fight each other instead of cooperating for monopoly?”
Only then did Lucas realize it. After all this fuss, Xiao Ran wanted to cooperate with him in computer graphics to achieve industry monopoly. Thinking of Xiao Ran’s earlier words, he was immediately inspired—monopoly was indeed the most profitable in the world.
He did some calculations in his mind and concluded that this deal wouldn’t hurt him at all. First, not everyone at Light Magic wanted to quit and join him; many preferred to stay because the working conditions there were excellent. It had to be admitted that in terms of working environment and benefits, Xiao Ran offered the best to those in the tech field.
Second, Xiao Ran’s financial strength was a huge advantage, and technology was an endless field—financial support was undoubtedly crucial. If Xiao Ran had proposed cooperation or increased investment from the start, Lucas would never have objected.
However, this also increased his confusion. Xiao Ran could have directly discussed cooperation with him; taking absolute control of Light Magic and Skywalker shouldn’t have been difficult. Why go for a full acquisition?
Shaking his head, he thought perhaps this Eastern devil had so much money he didn’t know what to do with it. After a brief thought, he nodded in agreement with Xiao Ran’s proposal. “I agree with you. But how long do you think we can maintain monopoly?”
“George, not everyone in this world can have a vision as far-reaching as ours!” Xiao Ran smiled gently before staring at Lucas. “As long as we stay ahead of others, we can maintain our monopoly!”
“Do you really think anyone else can surpass the alliance of Light Magic and Visual?” Xiao Ran’s question was remarkable. After the merger of Light Magic and Visual, their technical strength might not increase much, but with Lucas at the helm, history could return to its original course.
What was admirable was that Xiao Ran didn’t mention the special effects team at all. Never underestimate the Phantom Special Effects Team. In terms of financial strength, they were even richer than Light Magic, and in terms of manpower, they were already a hub of talent. With some former Light Magic members joining them and Xiao Ran’s strategic guidance, their future achievements would surely surpass that so-called alliance.

In this way, Xiao Ran truly took control of special effects production worldwide for at least a decade—this was true monopoly. For Lucas, it hardly amounted to a monopoly, though it might be considered one in Hollywood.

The matter was settled thus: Lucas’s visual effects team was fully integrated into Magic Light, with Phantom holding 60% of the control rights. Of course, the company was also managed by Lucas himself, who could handle things as he saw fit, with Xiao Ran never interfering in the details.

When Lucas left happily, he asked Xiao Ran a question, “Why didn’t you offer me the same terms back then? I would have definitely agreed!” This made the smile in Xiao Ran’s eyes grow even wider, but Lucas still didn’t get an answer, because he found Xiao Ran’s gaze eerily similar to before. Seeing Lucas leave, Xiao Ran couldn’t help but chuckle—finally, he had won a battle. After such tough days, this was a moment of relief.

For Xiao Ran, the acquisition of Magic Light was only truly complete now. Why not negotiate the share distribution directly with Lucas? Xiao Ran smiled lightly. If his future strategic focus was in North America, he certainly wouldn’t have acquired it outright.

However, Xiao Ran’s strategic focus was on Hong Kong and the Chinese mainland. If Magic Light was in North America while he lacked a comparable special effects company in his own territory, it would be fatal. His previous acquisitions of Magic Light and Skywalker were aimed at bringing over some talent—Magic Light had people for everything, including model-making and other tasks, which was exactly what he wanted.

In terms of special effects, their team was already ahead of the world, but in areas like modeling, they were far behind Magic Light. Now that he had talent willing to join him, Xiao Ran had a special effects company capable of competing with Magic Light in the future.

This was what he wanted. He knew Lucas would continue working in special effects and that he could lure away a significant portion of his staff. So, he waited for Lucas to make a comeback before discussing a merger. In this way, he got the talent and technology he wanted, while Lucas obtained the financial resources he desired—everyone was satisfied.

Hongguo was powerful in Hong Kong, but in Southeast Asia, it was utterly ineffective. The four major companies controlled 99% of Hong Kong film distribution, with the remaining 1% being films the companies didn’t want to distribute. Phantom alone controlled over 50%, with its distribution network reaching every corner of Southeast Asia—of course, only where it was possible; after all, they couldn’t build cinemas in North Korea!

For Xiao Ran, the next step was to crush Hongguo and then fully enter the mainland and European markets. The final goal was Hollywood. Though he hoped to complete all this quickly so he could retire with his wife, it was clearly not something that could be rushed.

When Hongguo was founded, it caused quite a stir. As everyone wondered how Xiao Ran would deal with it, things gradually settled down. Neither Phantom nor the other three companies took any action against Hongguo. Even soon after, when Shaw Brothers revived through Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, the four giants remained indifferent, which was extremely confusing.

However, it was precisely because Shaw Brothers revived itself through Metro that the theaters rented by Depple had to share them with Hong Kong Film and Metro, resulting in a film being taken off the screens just 20 days after its release. This forced Pan Dingsheng to release many films through Lei Kaite’s Tai Hing Theater chain. Since Metro, Hong Kong Film, and Tai Hing all had no films available at the time, a rare calm settled over Hong Kong’s film industry.

Mo Huaien was very confused. A month had passed, yet Xiao Ran still hadn’t launched any counterattacks and continued to produce and distribute films steadily. Without big stars, it didn’t matter—there were plenty of artists under famous stars who couldn’t make a name for themselves. In just two months, Mei Ying released eight films, turning six previously unknown actors into regulars in the newspapers.

Mo Huaien now had no idea what tricks Xiao Ran was playing. He had always been wary of Xiao Ran—not only because of his financial strength but also because of his cunning and tactics. Even before entering the industry, starting from the day Xiao Ran’s relationship with Lin Qingxia became public, Mo Huaien had been investigating him.

According to the investigation report, Xiao Ran suddenly appeared in 1985, showing no signs of talent before that. He later partnered with the Fang family, only to end up in a split. His subsequent rise to fame was extremely legendary—he broke away from the Fang family, quickly brought the underworld under control, forcing the Haisen Group, with its hundreds of billions in assets, to sell Hailuo at a very low price.

In Mo Huaien’s eyes, there were three key aspects: Xiao Ran’s cunning in his confrontation with the Fang family, his deceitfulness in dealing with the Japanese andKia (or Jiahe), and his ruthless methods in dealing with Huang Yinglong. He thought these three traits were enough to make Xiao Ran a successful businessman.

He believed the most terrifying aspect wasn’t his ruthless methods against Huang Yinglong but rather his cunning. Despite always seeming to have the upper hand, Xiao Ran dragged things on for half a year, allowing the highly prominent Hailuo to bear most of the external attention, while Mei Ying quietly strengthened itself in the background.

He often felt as if he were Fang Ruohai—a Fang Ruohai waiting to be slaughtered. Though he didn’t know where this feeling came from, it kept him nervous for a long time. After investigating thoroughly, Xiao Ran still showed no signs of activity, which slightly eased his anxiety, but the feeling persisted.

He hated this feeling, but he had to admit it made him more vigilant—a very useful weapon. Moreover, he kept trying to figure out what caused it—was it Xiao Ran’s indifferent attitude? It was said that on the day the artists defected, Xiao Ran was almost fainted with anger.

He didn’t believe in premonitions but believed that sufficient measures could compensate for any mistakes. Most importantly, he was convinced that Xiao Ran would choose the summer vacation as the time for the final showdown—the best time for a battle, just like last time with Hailuo. What worried him was that the defection of the filmmakers must involve some trickery, but he couldn’t figure out what game Xiao Ran was playing.

It had to be admitted that although Mo Huaien was somewhat realistic, he still had a touch of romanticism. He often imagined himself as a hero or knight who, after developing mutual respect with the enemy, would ultimately defeat them.

Every time there was a struggle in the industry, he was used to imagining his opponents as such enemies. Unfortunately, his opponents never played along. Xiao Ran was undoubtedly an excellent opponent—first, Mo Huaien believed his princess had been taken away by this sorcerer, Xiao Ran; second, Xiao Ran was already powerful enough to serve as his enemy.

However, sometimes he habitually forgot one thing: the current Shadow wasn’t someone anyone could easily defeat, especially when it had no debts and a huge cash reserve. On top of that, Shadow hadn’t even sought a chance to go public, meaning that even the world’s richest man wouldn’t be able to knock it down easily, let alone him now.

For Tie Long, his ambition had already grown rapidly the moment his film “Home Alone” grossed over 20 million at the box office. He already had a role model in front of him—Xiao Ran. Xiao Ran also started as a screenwriter before becoming a director, though Tie Long lacked popularity.

But he believed he could do it, even better than Xiao Ran. At Golden Harvest, he demanded to be the director and produced “Home Alone 2,” the only film last year to surpass Shadow’s films in the prime-time box office. He indeed became famous overnight, but that wasn’t enough.

So, when an opportunity arose, just as Xiao Ran had used Fang Ruohai’s funds to launch his legend, he chose to team up with Mo Huaien and the others. If Xiao Ran could do it, so could he—at least that’s what he firmly believed.

Tie Long’s debut film as a director was a comedy set to release in June, competing with Shadow. The real showdown with Shadow in July would be Wu Yusen’s “Blood Street,” a film shot on location in Vietnam, involving an enormous amount of manpower and resources.

Now, Tie Long looked forward to facing Shadow, or rather, facing Xiao Ran. The only thing that disappointed him was that Xiao Ran hadn’t released any films this year; otherwise, a direct competition would have been exactly what he desired.

As for Mo Huaien, he now felt like a hero about to rescue his princess from the clutches of a dragon. He not only wanted to make money but also wanted to use this opportunity, just as Shadow had risen to fame by winning box office battles. However, he believed he had an additional task: to defeat the dragon Xiao Ran and save Princess Lin Qingxia.

The summer movie season was approaching quickly, and a winner would have to be determined among them—though perhaps there really was no need to determine a winner at all…