Chapter 197: The Established Jiahé

Huang Yinglong could only force a bitter smile. He hated his own mouth for always spouting nonsense without thinking. Did Xiao Ran not deserve to set rules? Every industry had rule-makers. If Xiao Ran, the most powerful figure in Hong Kong’s entertainment industry, couldn’t even do that, it would be nothing but mockery.

A hint of amusement appeared in Xiao Ran’s eyes. He liked people who spoke their minds directly. Unfortunately, Huang Yinglong clearly wouldn’t be able to appear in Hong Kong anymore. Xiao Ran smiled calmly, “Mr. Huang, I’m not the kind of person who likes to make things difficult for others. Here’s ten million. You can go wherever you want. I believe your experience is enough to start a business. As for your forty million loan, I’ll take care of it.”

Huang Yinglong was stunned. He thought Xiao Ran wanted to humiliate him, but instead, after rejecting him in such a strange way, Xiao Ran offered him ten million. He stared at Xiao Ran’s eyes, filled with goodwill.

“Take it,” Xiao Ran said with a slight smile. He truly didn’t want to hurt others, though it was sometimes unavoidable. “Transfer your company to Shadow within three days. Don’t show up in Hong Kong for three years. Live well—think of it as living for your wife and children.”

Huang Yinglong took the check from Xiao Ran, his hands trembling, as he counted the digits. He believed it was real. His resentment toward Xiao Ran had completely vanished. Although it seemed like Xiao Ran had ruined his career, it was clear that Xiao Ran’s proposal wouldn’t harm other companies. He blamed himself for being impulsive. Besides, he was well aware of the rules in this circle. He was truly grateful that Xiao Ran had left him a way out.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Xiao!” Huang Yinglong bowed deeply to Xiao Ran, thinking this was the only way to express his gratitude. “If I get the chance in the future, I will definitely repay you!”

Xiao Ran watched Huang Yinglong leave with interest. He thought Huang Yinglong was a decent person who might achieve something elsewhere. This deal brought no harm to Xiao Ran at all. Establishing authority couldn’t be measured in money. Although he would now owe tens of millions in debt, that wasn’t a big deal.

Taking out two reports, Xiao Ran couldn’t help but smile. Both reports were about Jiahé—one was given to him by Guan Xin, and the other by Lin Yongqiang. Thinking of this, he remembered Biao, who he had sent to the mainland to handle some tasks. It had been a long time since they last met.

Lin Yongqiang was still much better at gathering business intelligence than Guan Xin. Unless Xiao Ran deliberately sent Guan Xin and the others to investigate, Lin Yongqiang would still have an advantage. Xiao Ran smiled. This way, he wouldn’t have to worry about the mainland government playing tricks with intelligence.

Guan Xin’s report was very concise and to the point, following his usual style. It stated outright that Zou Wenhuai had reached a financing deal with a Japanese company three days ago. The specific figures weren’t clear, but it was analyzed that Zou Wenhuai’s move was mainly aimed at dealing with Shadow.

Lin Yongqiang’s report was much clearer. In addition to what was mentioned earlier, it specified that the amount of funds involved was 2 billion, allowing for a 30% stake. However, this money wasn’t to be paid immediately—1 billion would be paid upfront, with the rest to be invested within three months.

Xiao Ran couldn’t help but sigh. Zou Wenhuai finally couldn’t withstand the pressure and decided to attack Shadow, but it was unclear what He Guanchang was thinking. Under such circumstances, he had no choice but to respond. Yet, it had to be admitted that Xiao Ran might have secretly been waiting for Zou Wenhuai to take action. If Zou Wenhuai hadn’t sought financing from the conglomerate, Xiao Ran would never have touched Jiahe.

“Come on, Zou Wenhuai. I hope you’re not too weak, so as not to repeat Fang Ruohai’s mistakes!” Xiao Ran muttered to himself. Such internal strife was really not something he wanted to see. But since Zou Wenhuai was already preparing to launch an attack, he had no reason to sit back and wait for death.

What other term could describe Jiahe’s actions besides overestimating their own strength? Xiao Ran couldn’t think of one—he truly couldn’t. Right now, Shadow had no debts and hadn’t sought external financing, making it difficult for anyone to interfere. Moreover, Shadow could mobilize at least 5 billion in liquid assets in a single day—a figure far exceeding Jiahe’s market value.

What Xiao Ran was hesitating about now was whether to take the initiative or let Jiahe act first, creating an excuse before wiping them out. In fact, there was little difference between these two approaches for him.

However, a day later, he received more intelligence. But this time, the information wasn’t as accurate as before—it was quite simple. Jiahe had teamed up with Japan’s Toei once again, with Toei investing 3 billion Hong Kong dollars. As a result, many directors’ stakes were diluted, and even Zou Wenhuai himself now controlled less than 40% of the shares.

Toei and another Japanese company called Shimoda each held a 25% controlling stake, reducing He Guanchang’s stake to just 5%. Cheng Long’s stake, which was already small, became even more negligible.

When Xiao Ran heard that Toei had proposed joining forces with Shimoda to control Jiahe, he couldn’t help but laugh. Toei had previously collaborated with Shadow, but only in terms of distribution. After Shadow acquired the theater distribution rights, they indirectly became enemies.

Since last year, the Japanese film industry had been eager to seize control of Hong Kong’s film industry. Toei had offered several investments and financing deals to Shadow, but they were all politely declined. Xiao Ran thought these Japanese people were quite clever for trying to control Jiahe in this way, hoping to stir up chaos in Hong Kong’s film industry.

But it was clearly not as simple as imagined. Xiao Ran found this game increasingly interesting. Japan and South Korea were now the only countries in Asia that hadn’t been fully conquered. Especially Japan—Shadow hadn’t even been able to acquire any theater distribution rights there.

As the New Year approached, and with Toei and Shimoda having already invested in Jiahé, Xiao Ran’s mood grew increasingly pleasant. ATV was also preparing new programs, such as a version imitating the Spring Festival Gala. The difference was that this program mainly featured comedy acts and singing.

It was a night close to the Spring Festival. After dinner, Xiao Ran’s mother quietly pulled him aside and asked, “Son, when can I hold a grandson? You need to work harder! Besides, Qingxia is getting older now; it will be harder for her to have children later.”

Xiao Ran was stunned. He had never thought about this before. He wasn’t very old anyway. If he had a son, would that… Thinking of this, he found it somewhat amusing. “Don’t worry. It’s just a grandson. I’ll definitely give you one!”

As night deepened, Xiao Ran and Lin Qingxia returned to their rooms to rest. Lin Qingxia leaned close to Xiao Ran and suddenly asked, “Do you like children?”

“I don’t. Kids are annoying!” Xiao Ran, who was calculating some work-related matters, replied immediately before realizing what he had said. He quickly turned to look at Lin Qingxia and hurriedly explained, “No, I was just talking nonsense. Actually, I really like children!”

“I see.” Lin Qingxia fell silent. She really wanted a child, but Xiao Ran’s casual remark had revealed his true feelings, leaving her depressed.

Seeing that Lin Qingxia stopped talking, Xiao Ran immediately realized his words must have hurt her. He quickly kissed her earlobe affectionately and said, “It’s true. Don’t overthink it. If you want a child, let’s work hard to have one!”

“It’s okay. I don’t really like children either!” Lin Qingxia, unsure of what she was afraid of or perhaps feeling that something was always missing, tried to change the subject. “Jiahé now has two strong companies as partners. Can you really handle them?”

Xiao Ran stared at his wife, whose face showed signs of depression, realizing she was hiding her true feelings to consider his perspective. At that moment, he didn’t know what to say.

Many people couldn’t sleep that night, including Zou Wenhuai and his two Japanese friends. In fact, Zou Wenhuai preferred Mitsubishi as his financing partner, given Jiahé’s long-standing cooperation with Mitsubishi. But Mitsubishi was a huge corporation, which made Zou Wenhuai worry about his shares being taken over.

That’s why he had secretly gone to Japan last time to find a good partner. Fortunately, he first encountered Toei, which readily agreed to Zou Wenhuai’s terms. Of course, Mr. Zou also knew that Toei had always had ambitions in the Hong Kong film market, but he now thought Toei was far less threatening than Shadow. At least in terms of strength, Toei wasn’t much stronger than Jiahé.

Moreover, he was impressed by the company behind Toei, which had a market value of over 10 billion. A significant portion of the 3 billion invested this time came from that company. As for Shimoda Company, strangely, although it operated in industry, it also planned to enter the film industry.

However, this is clearly not a big deal. This company’s assets are only over six billion, and it’s backed by an investment fund from Hong Kong as well—so it’s unlikely to have much impact. Most importantly, Mr. Zou was impressed by those thirty billion. If they could get those thirty billion again, it would mean Jiahe had sufficient financial resources to expand into overseas markets.

It should be noted that Jiahe’s debts account for a significant portion of its assets. Although it has substantial working capital, it hasn’t invested it in other industries; it focuses solely on filmmaking, which is no wonder given the circumstances.

With this, Mr. Zou was even happier. He thought, “Xiao Ran always likes to talk about salary, right? Fine, let him ask—Jiahe has plenty of money now.” But still, the plan needed to work smoothly.

The representative of that company clearly expressed his concerns: “Chairman Zou, are you sure your plan will work? As far as I know, Shadow is the company that dominates the market!”

“Mr. Teng Gang, please trust me—and trust Jiahe!” Zou Wenhuai spoke with great confidence, which indeed showed his ambition. Yet ambition and failure often lie just in a single decision. “I’ve already sent people to discuss this with some big stars. We can challenge Shadow’s position at any time!”

Fortunately, Zou Wenhuai wasn’t blinded by success. He only said they could challenge Shadow’s position, not that they could completely eliminate it. If he had said the latter, even the Japanese would have left immediately. Who doesn’t know Shadow’s status in Hong Kong? With the entire structure of No.1 Entertainment Empire, Jiahe is far from qualified to bring Shadow down.

The only thing that troubled Zou Wenhuai was that Shadow had no debts, no loans, and no exposed equity. It was difficult to do anything against them. Moreover, the film industry isn’t something that can be easily disrupted, especially when the opponent has substantial financial resources.

Right now, Shadow gave Zou Wenhuai a sense of being stuck—like trying to catch a turtle with a mouse, unable to find a way in. In fact, it wasn’t just him; Toei had also tried to take down Shadow before. If Shadow were a publicly listed company or had raised funds, there would be opportunities. But now, Shadow was like an impregnable fortress, with karaoke businesses continuously generating profits for it—this wasn’t easy at all.

Worst of all, the only thing that could harm Shadow was Power, but Power had rarely invested in stocks or similar things in recent years, focusing instead on real industries. The most painful part was that Power itself rarely engaged in deals worth over a billion, making it impossible to strike at Shadow’s core.

Thus, Zou Wenhuai knew clearly that the only thing he could do was to try to restore Jiahe’s reputation in the industry. In terms of distribution, he didn’t even dare hope to take over the distribution rights controlled by Shadow. They weren’t fools—Shadow’s assets worth hundreds of billions were entirely their own, and they dominated most of the film industry. Anyone would know which side to choose.

What he needed to do was secure film professionals and gather as many outstanding ones as possible. However, the vast majority of true top talents were under the control of Shadow, while the remaining few were in the hands of DeBao and Tian Luo, which made Zou Wenhuai hesitate for a moment. He didn’t have enough time to train newcomers, nor could he afford to spend money on training them without caring about losses like Shadow could. Even if he wanted to, the two major shareholder representatives beside him would never agree. Of course, he had other options—he wanted to enter Hollywood again. His previous failures were due to insufficient funds, but now that he had enough capital, he could surely make a move in Hollywood. He even had a plan: once he secured a Hollywood production company, he could use it as collateral for a loan and then expand to Europe. Yet he had no idea why he had failed before. His focus had always been on investment, and Hollywood’s profit distribution for outside investors was particularly low; it was hard to make big profits unless one encountered a fool. Nor did he realize why Xiao Ran, with such vast assets, would stop short of Hollywood. In any case, he indeed had more experience in breaking into Hollywood than Xiao Ran—this was undeniable. Whether he could succeed was uncertain. Anyway, one thing is certain: starting from the next day, the battle between Jihe and Shadow would begin. Although Xiao Ran didn’t want such internal strife, it seemed he had no choice left…