Chapter 105

Warner's headquarters is in Burbank, next to Los Angeles, effectively part of Los Angeles, and Disney's headquarters is here too.

The two got off early; the sun outside was strong, the temperature around twenty-something degrees, and this place consistently hovers around twenty-something degrees year-round.

This is also why this place excels at filmmaking—plenty of light, beautiful natural scenery.

Fang Hong and Liu Tianxian each wore sunglasses, walking side by side, like tourists strolling through the city—quite pleasant.

As they passed in front of Disney's entrance, Liu Tianxian involuntarily stopped.

Disney's building wasn't striking at all; it looked ordinary, like a factory, only with a more cartoonish exterior design.

Yet the bronze statue of "Disney holding Mickey Mouse" right at the entrance was extremely eye-catching.

Fang Hong, seeing Liu Tianxian pause, said from behind her: "I'm going to erect a Jade Rabbit statue here too."

Liu Tianxian turned back and pointed to the sky: "Look!"

"What?"

Fang Hong looked up—only blue sky and a blazing sun, nothing else.

"You've blown your ox so high it's in the sky," Liu Tianxian said, then walked off grinning.

Fang Hong hurried to catch up: "I'm serious."

"Wait until this movie makes money," Liu Tianxian said.

You don't even understand anything, yet you want to erect statues in Hollywood—this movie might not even make money.

"It will definitely make money," Fang Hong said seriously.

"Yes, I believe you—as long as you keep going, I believe in you."

Liu Tianxian didn't dampen his spirits; after all, this man was driven by this very belief, a rare and precious quality.

She placed one hand on Fang Hong's shoulder: "When you erect your statue here, will you invite me to star in a Hollywood blockbuster?"

"Of course—I'll invite you to star in Mulan, filmed right here in Hollywood, released worldwide," Fang Hong said.

"Then you're gonna go bankrupt!" Liu Tianxian grinned, squinting.

"No problem—I don't care about a few hundred million!" Fang Hong boasted loudly.

Liu Tianxian laughed—he hadn't even done anything yet, and he was already blowing his own horn to the heavens.

The two chatted and laughed as they quickly reached Warner's headquarters building.

The building was a skyscraper, towering enough to require looking up; American flags flew on its facade. They entered the lobby, and Liu Tianxian explained their purpose to the receptionist—they had an appointment.

After the receptionist made a phone call, they were told to wait.

It was just like the scene when Fang Hong and Chen Zhixi first started their venture.

What could they do? They could only wait—going elsewhere would probably be the same.

The two found seats in the lobby and sat facing each other; the chairs were surprisingly comfortable, with high, soft backs.

Occasionally, elegant blonde women walked by, and well-dressed white men passed too, casting curious glances at them.

It was normal—just like how we stare at foreigners!

Liu Tianxian crossed her legs and leaned forward: "Americans are like this—making you wait doesn't mean they won't see you; they just like to make you wait."

This is part of American culture—simply put, arrogance, a habit of being above others.

Fang Hong nodded, understanding—minor staff like this, such treatment was normal: it wore down your patience, crushed your spirit, made you feel insecure.

If I were powerful, I'd make them wait two or three hours first!

"But once you start making money, they'll come begging to you—here, money talks; no social connections or favors can match the power of money."

Liu Tianxian added: "So right now, you still need to know your place—don't think you're someone important."

"Let me tell you."

Fang Hong also leaned forward: "If you've studied the history of civilization, you'd know—from human origins to now, at least ten thousand years, right?

In those ten thousand years, we've only had a brief hundred years, and even that hundred years only shines a tiny light in one specific industry at one specific time—so I'm not even a scallion."

"Heheh!" Liu Tianxian chuckled lightly—she'd just said it offhand, and this man actually gave a serious explanation.

Bored, they began discussing the history of civilization.

Liu Tianxian loved hearing such literary topics; watching Fang Hong speak eloquently, she thought he was most charming at this moment—rich in knowledge, high in insight.

They debated, exchanged views.

Once they started talking, they couldn't stop—as if they had endless topics; over an hour passed.

Just as Fang Hong was continuing to captivate Liu Tianxian's mind, a staff member came to guide them into an elevator, taking them to a luxurious office.

The office was huge—so large that a well-dressed white man was playing golf beside a floor-to-ceiling window, outside which rose skyscrapers.

The white man had a scruffy beard; though old, he carried a distinct aristocratic aura.

Seeing them, he put his golf club into a bag: "Sorry for keeping you waiting—follow me."

He gestured for them to follow.

Liu Tianxian watched his mannerisms and somehow felt a sense of inferiority—his air of superiority was overwhelming.

They entered a luxurious small screening room, integrated into the office, ready for instant viewing.

The three sat side by side; as soon as Fang Hong sat down, he sank into the seat—it was a plush single sofa, incredibly comfortable, with an excellent tactile feel.

Rich people really know how to enjoy life—working with golf, a private cinema, and if the mood strikes, summoning a secretary for deeper conversation.

Liu Tianxian sat in the middle—she was the one who needed to communicate.

Staff came to collect the edited footage for screening; Fang Hong handed over the hard drive.

Since this was their first collaboration and they knew nothing, they had to watch—Hollywood's environment is different from China's.

Hollywood has too many horror film dark horses—some random horror flick suddenly emerges and becomes a box office smash.

These novelty films are the hardest to predict!

As for art films—forget them; this is the country where The Shawshank Redemption flopped.

The white man, lounging casually, took the opportunity to say, "I'm Zhasilafu, CEO of Warner. You can introduce yourselves."

Hearing this, Liu Tianxian's expression turned surprised—no wonder he carried such presence; this was a board member. She steadied her nerves, introduced herself, then introduced Fang Hong, and told Fang Hong to introduce his own identity.

Fang Hong merely nodded, expressionless.

The movie began quickly; the plot was simple—a demon needed a soul, then it just scared people.

Horror films most dread complex plots, because audiences come for sensory thrills—who has time to ponder what your story is about?

Since the theater lights were dim, the big screen occasionally flashed terrifying images.

Liu Tianxian, startled, leaned against Fang Hong for safety, completely losing her usual arrogant demeanor.

She liked watching them, but was afraid of them—caught in this torment.

The edited footage differed from what she'd been cutting on her computer; color grading and ambient atmosphere made it far more frightening.

Fang Hong held her shoulder close, smelling her faint fragrance, feeling her soft body.

If he'd known it would be this easy, he wouldn't have played those petty tricks days ago—he could've just brought her to a horror movie, and she wouldn't have gotten beaten.

But Zhasilafu watched calmly, analyzing the film's selling point: whether it could scare people—if it could scare, it could sell.

Horror films have a fixed audience!

"Annabelle" ended quickly; no opening credits appeared. When the film finished, the big screen went dark, and the theater lights came on.

"Didn't scare you, did it?" Fang Hong asked softly.

Liu Tianxian shook her head slightly, turning to look at Zhasilafu.

Seeing the man silent, as if lost in thought, she asked again: "Mr. Zhasilafu, what do you think?"

"There are many films like this. Your production is crude; achieving good box office will be difficult," Zhasilafu said.

It simply couldn't compare to other films!

"This film is just our rough cut—we haven't done fine editing yet. After fine editing, it'll be much better," Liu Tianxian tried to explain.

Zhasilafu shrugged indifferently: "That's not the issue. You simply don't understand the audience. Audiences love bloody violence—you've got none of it. To me, it's neither bloody nor terrifying."

Horror films are niche. If you can't capture hearts, you'll never break through. I guess your investment was under ten million, your cost minimal."

This man alternated between calling the film crude and claiming it failed to attract viewers.

Liu Tianxian felt as if her thoughts had been fully exposed—she felt guilty. Their film truly had little investment.

And he spoke with such reason—she didn't know how to refute him, and was instantly pinned down.

She translated for Fang Hong, waiting to see what he'd say.

Though Liu Tianxian understood American social customs and rules well, she'd rarely experienced actual negotiations.

"Just tell him we'll meet again next time," Fang Hong said.

"Huh?!"

Liu Tianxian gasped, lowering her voice: "That's too blunt! Don't you want your movie released?"

Does this man even know how to negotiate?

Zhasilafu noticed, his expression calm.

"If he had no interest in your film, he wouldn't waste so many words telling you how bad it is—he's definitely interested," Fang Hong analyzed.

Though he didn't know what they'd said, seeing the foreigner talk nonstop, he guessed the situation.

Even Manager Lei had no time to watch movies—he was too lazy to watch, and even if he did, he'd only comment briefly.

The CEO of Warner—if he truly had no interest, he'd just stand up and leave, have someone show him out—why would he go on so long?

Liu Tianxian thought for a moment: "I still don't get it."

"It's simple—if you had zero interest in someone who was chasing you, would you talk to them so much?" Fang Hong asked.

"No!" Liu Tianxian shook her head.

She'd keep distance, ignore them completely—in short, cold treatment.

"Then isn't it the same? When you're interested in someone, don't you try to get closer?" Fang Hong said.

Liu Tianxian nodded, feeling his logic made sense—just like their own relationship.

"Take clothing as an example—if you saw a dress you loved, wouldn't you haggle to buy it?" Fang Hong guided.

Liu Tianxian suddenly understood: "You mean he's deliberately pressuring me."

"Yes, probably," Fang Hong said.

"What do you mean 'probably'? You're not sure—I have no confidence negotiating!"

Liu Tianxian felt uneasy, her tone rising slightly.

Earlier, with the white woman, she'd handled herself effortlessly—they were both actors, and she held the moral high ground.

But here, it was a business negotiation—he was a big company CEO, exuding natural authority, speaking with logic and evidence. She couldn't even find a flaw in him, and had already lost.

Ultimately, Liu Tianxian simply lacked experience—she hadn't yet grown into the composed, confident woman she'd become later.

But this experience helped her acting.

"Yifei, don't let your negotiating posture weaken. If you show weakness, they'll sense your insecurity and seize control. Even if you eventually reach an agreement, you'll be the weaker party—completely unequal."

"No matter what you feel inside, approach it with calmness. Don't fear the deal collapsing—just say, 'Fine, if we can't agree, we'll find another buyer.'"

Fang Hong placed his hand on her back and pressed gently, signaling her to straighten her spine.

Liu Tianxian suddenly felt strength. She raised her voice: "Mr. Zhasilafu, since you have no interest in cooperating, we'll take our leave."

She rose to stand, fully embracing Fang Hong's "find another buyer" assertive mindset.

Internally, she was terrified, deeply insecure—afraid he wouldn't stop her.

"Madam, please wait!"

Zhasilafu froze, quickly pressing down on Liu Tianxian's arm.

He'd intended to buy the film cheaply—her sudden shift in attitude caught him off guard.

Just now it was clearly evident that his aura had been suppressed.

This made him glance at the man beside the woman.

(End of Chapter)