My teacher is Bruce Lee, who dominated Hollywood.

Chapter 26 The Dust Settles

Andrew received the signal—the all-out offensive had begun.

"Mr. Ashley, we're here to discuss a partnership, not to work for Warner."

He pulled a prepared proposal from his briefcase and placed it in front of Ashley.

"This is Golden Harvest's bottom line—Warner Bros. and Golden Harvest will each pay half of the production costs."

"Correspondingly, the global box office profits are split 50/50."

"As for distribution rights... Warner has exclusive distribution rights in North America, South America, and Europe; while Golden Harvest owns the distribution rights in Asia."

Ashley finally understood why this young man had laid so much groundwork:

If it were filmed in Hollywood, Golden Harvest wouldn't be able to afford a budget of several million US dollars, so naturally they wouldn't be in a position to negotiate a 50/50 profit split.

However, once it's moved to Hong Kong, the cost is reduced to a few hundred thousand US dollars, and Golden Harvest is fully capable of spending half of that money to obtain the other half of the huge profits.

Clearly, they are gambling on whether the cost savings or the potential higher profits are more attractive to Warner.

With Warner's backing, Golden Harvest's distribution in Asia has been even more successful.

Unfortunately, the words had already been spoken, and there was little room for taking them back.

"Mr. Morgan, don't you think Golden Harvest's appetite is too big?"

Although the young man in front of him was somewhat cunning, Ashley felt that overall he was still business-minded, so he decided to make another push:

"Warner's distribution network spans the globe. You think you can just pay a little money and use it as a shell to enjoy the services of this film empire?"

"Because we have Bruce Lee," Andrew retorted, "He's the only 'True Dragon'."

"If Warner feels they're losing out, we can go to Universal. I believe Mr. Sinberg would be very happy to accept this proposal."

It's Global Times again!

Ashley felt a throbbing sensation in his temples.

This plan is too targeted; every point hits Warner's weak points. It's something this young assistant couldn't possibly have come up with.

His gaze drifted uncontrollably toward the leisurely Qin Han: Was it him?

This young man lives in a slum, owes high-interest loans, yet travels around speculating and scheming. He knows kung fu and can even write screenplays...

It's really hard for Ashley to combine these traits into one person.

He quietly pressed the call button under the desktop.

A moment later, Fred walked in, carrying a box of Havana cigars:

"Gentlemen, you must be tired after talking for so long. Why don't we relax for a bit?"

"Cohiba, a Cuban product. It's a 'contraband' in that country."

A cigar was lit, and the smoke slowly rose in the opulent office, diluting the tense atmosphere considerably.

Fred was a good mediator. In the previous exchange, although the two sides reached a strategic cooperation agreement, Warner lost face.

In Hollywood, being respectable is a very important thing.

"Qin, I heard that the gangsters in Chinatown are chasing you everywhere?" Fred exhaled a smoke ring and started the conversation.

Oh? Are you looking for trouble?

Qin Han raised his coffee cup and took a sip: "Fred's information network is very good."

He readily admitted, "That's right, with interest compounded, it should be over 80,000 US dollars."

Those dark eyes didn't hold the panic and embarrassment Ashley had expected; instead, they revealed a sense of openness and confidence.

"However, I believe that as long as our film is successful, this amount of money will be nothing more than the price of a bottle of champagne at the celebration party."

This almost arrogant self-confidence made Ashley feel a bit uneasy.

He has seen too many actors who cry their eyes out for a few hundred dollars in pay, and he has also seen many models who sell their bodies for a minor role.

This is the first time I've seen someone like Qin Han, who was burdened with enormous debt yet acted as if it didn't matter.

The young man before me possessed a mental fortitude far exceeding my expectations.

Andrew tried taking a puff of a cigar, but choked and coughed repeatedly, which made everyone laugh.

He seized the opportunity to interject: "Ahem... Mr. Ashley need not worry about Mr. Qin's financial situation. Golden Harvest has already drafted a letter of appointment, inviting him to serve as a special advisor for North America."

"Although my salary isn't enough to pay off all my debts at once, it's more than enough to maintain a decent lifestyle."

Ashley nodded, realizing he wouldn't gain anything.

In that case, we must act decisively to prevent a repeat of what happened at Global Times.

"Mr. Morgan, a 50/50 split, and Asian distribution rights, no problem."

He regained the shrewdness of a business tycoon: "However, Warner wants to add an additional clause."

"In the future, all merchandise based on this film—including but not limited to posters, doll toys, and clothing licenses—must be owned by Warner Bros."

A hint of a smile flashed in Qin Han's eyes; he knew all too well the value of this clause in the future.

Bruce Lee's legacy generated hundreds of millions of dollars in wealth over the next few decades.

However, in 1973, Golden Harvest had no ability to develop related IPs. Rather than letting them rot in its hands, it was better to do Warner Bros. a favor and give them away in exchange for concessions on box office revenue.

"No problem." He intervened in the negotiations for the first time: "However, the copyright belongs to Warner, but Golden Harvest must keep 10% of the profits."

"Deal!" Ashley's furrowed brows finally relaxed.

For him, the main purpose of this clause was to save face; as for making money?

Would anyone actually buy an Asian doll?

As the pen scratched across the paper, signatures appeared one by one on the contract.

This contract, destined to change the history of film, has finally been finalized.

"It's a pleasure doing business with you." Ashley took out an expensive bottle of bourbon whiskey from the liquor cabinet, poured four glasses, and when he saw Qin Han wave his hand to refuse, he poured the glass that had been given to him back into his own glass.

Once the business was over, the conversation naturally started to wander.

Among men, the three most popular topics are nothing more than women, money, and politics.

"To be honest, business is getting harder and harder these days," Fred sighed, swirling his wine glass.

"Those vampires on Wall Street are eyeing our stock, and that guy in the White House... he's not having an easy time lately either."

Ashley's interest was clearly piqued when the White House was mentioned.

"Nixon?" He scoffed, his face bearing the arrogance typical of California Democrats.

"The Watergate scandal can't be covered up. I think the credibility of this Republican administration is about to go bankrupt."

"Isn't this perfect?" Andrew said with a smile. "Political scandals make people feel more stressed in their lives, so they need movies to escape reality. For us, this is a good thing."

"It's not that simple," Ashley sighed. "The biggest problem is still Vietnam."

"It's a bottomless pit. As long as the war continues, the anger of young people will have nowhere to go, and society will be like a powder keg."

Listening to the "eloquent discussions" of these elites, Qin Han brought over his coffee cup.

Andrew caught a glimpse of his ambiguous smile and his heart skipped a beat.

He was all too familiar with that expression—oh no, here we go again.

"Your analyses are all very insightful," Qin Han said with a sly smile. "How about we make a bet?"