Chapter 200

On February 10, The Conjuring was released as scheduled in 52 countries worldwide.

Before its release, industry insiders predicted the film's opening weekend box office would not exceed $32 million.

Because the film's production budget was only $20 million.

Before the movie premiered, even professional forecasting agencies couldn't be certain how much it would earn.

However, The Conjuring debuted as a dark horse, earning $17 million in North America on its first day and topping the daily box office chart.

In the following three days, it earned $41.53 million to claim the weekend box office championship.

The 10th was a Friday, the 11th and 12th were Saturday and Sunday—so in just three days, it earned $41.53 million in North America.

Its global opening week box office exceeded $55 million, truly unexpected—it shattered industry predictions, set the record for the highest opening weekend for a horror film in 2012, and established the best opening weekend for an original horror film.

Besides its box office success, the film's critical reception was also excellent.

The U. S. renowned film industry survey firm Cinemascore gave it an "A-"; Rotten Tomatoes rated its approval rating at 85%.

Even Douban gave it a high score of 7.9.

"Low-budget horror film The Conjuring storms through the competition as a dark horse!"

This headline appeared in the Yang Cheng Evening News.

But this wasn't a hot news story—it only sparked some curiosity, since Chinese audiences couldn't see the film anyway.

Even if some people downloaded pirated copies, they wouldn't pay attention to which company produced it.

Of course, some netizens did notice the distributor and production company; they knew the distributor was Warner.

The Six Majors—hard to miss even if you didn't hear of them.

But the production company, theJadeHare, had a purely English name, and many couldn't understand it; it had drawn no attention before.

Because the Six Majors and Eight Majors were too prominent; Chinese audiences simply had no impression of third- or fourth-tier film companies.

Yet this company attracted some attention precisely because its English translation meant "Jade Rabbit."

But no one could be sure—too many names were identical, too many translations were wrong.

Or maybe it was just "rabbit" or "bunny."

Jade Rabbit never confirmed this company was theirs, and no one responded to the matter.

Still, a small group or some observant individuals took notice, and some suddenly realized: no wonder Jade Rabbit was so rich!

In just one or two years, it dared to challenge this one and flaunt that one—it was growing too fast.

But they still weren't certain whether the U. S. company belonged to the Principal; some even called Fang Hong to ask, and the caller was Zeng Maojun, General Manager of Wanda Pictures.

Zeng Maojun had no reservations and got straight to the point: "Hey, Xiao Fang, I noticed the Jade Rabbit in the U. S. —is it connected to you?"

"A bit connected—it was founded by a friend of mine, I named it, and I made some investments," Fang Hong replied calmly.

"I see," Zeng Maojun murmured. "Do you still need funding over there?"

"Funding is definitely lacking—money, of course, is always better in greater amounts," Fang Hong replied politely.

"Perfect—our company intends to enter the North American film market; we've already reached an acquisition agreement with AMC Theatres, the second-largest theater chain in North America. If we can collaborate, it would be a major boost," Zeng Maojun became interested.

Who knew there'd be such good fortune—the Principal had production operations in the U. S.

That meant they could control the film supply they received.

"To be honest with you, I can't make decisions on this—I only hold shares and have no authority," Fang Hong immediately deflected.

Want to come in and eat meat? Dream on—why doesn't Wanda let Jade Rabbit in to eat?

"Then you can introduce me—I'll go talk to him directly," Zeng Maojun said bluntly.

Because in his eyes, the Principal was just a nobody.

"Alright then—I can't give you his number, I'll have him call you," Fang Hong said.

"Good, call this number."

After Zeng Maojun finished speaking, he hung up the phone immediately.

Fang Hong stared at the phone, visibly annoyed—damn it, speaking like he was giving orders—these big shots are fine until they see profit, then their faces turn red.

Because in their eyes, Fang Hong seemed incapable of refusal.

Wanda is currently at its peak—this year, not only did it acquire AMC Theatres, but it's also seeking to acquire production companies.

Originally, it wanted to acquire Paramount, but the Eight Majors aren't so easy to let a Chinese company take control.

It's said Alibaba was also competing to acquire Paramount.

But neither succeeded—Paramount remained Paramount; when it faced crisis, it revived by taking money from Chinese tycoons and sticking to its production methods.

That's why Wanda later acquired Legendary Pictures—but in the U. S., it's only a second-tier production company, lagging behind the top tier.

Fang Hong called Yu Xian and told him about Wanda.

Yu Xian listened, looking troubled: "Holy shit, what am I supposed to say?"

This kind of thing had always been handled by Fang Hong—why was it now his turn? That's a big shot.

He couldn't communicate with him at all.

"Here's your chance to show off—just tell him to get lost, far away," Fang Hong spoke arrogantly, nothing like his earlier tone.

"What?!"

Yu Xian stared in shock—he was being told to curse a big shot? "Don't be afraid—you're in Hollywood, not back home; their hands can't reach Hollywood—you're in two different worlds, why fear him?" Fang Hong said.

Even if Wanda acquired AMC Theatres, it still couldn't control theJadeHare—that's about distribution coordination.

If Wanda has guts, go challenge Universal or Warner.

Then I'd respect them—if so, I'd gladly hand over even the domestic Jade Rabbit, quietly and obediently. Yu Xian understood—he didn't need to fear Wanda, and said: "If I'm this powerful, won't he make trouble for you?"

"You're you, I'm me—this has nothing to do with me," Fang Hong said.

"You can do that?" Yu Xian was confused.

In his mind, he and Fang Hong were one unit—rising or falling together.

"Of course you can calculate it that way—you're the one who disagrees with Wanda joining the table, not me. What's it got to do with me?" Fang Hong said plainly.

"Damn, that actually makes sense!"

Yu Xian, fired up by the argument, said: "If it were Lao Wang, could I say the same thing—tell him to get lost?"

"Of course you can. Even Tony Ma, you can tell him to get lost," Fang Hong said.

Yu Xian, now excited, said: "Alright, I'm going to show off now. Don't disturb me."

"Don't rush. Maintain your status. What level is he? Does he tell you to hit him, and you just do it? Wait two days before you act," Fang Hong advised.

"No, I'm hitting him now. My blood is boiling—I need to show off." Yu Xian was already desperate to act.

This was a chance to shine, a chance to ignore the big shots—don't miss it.

Fuck, that's all the ambition you've got?

Fang Hong let him go, then added: "I've got another thing for you. You've got a production team, right? If you get any Best Special Effects work, give it to Yutu's side."

"OK, OK."

Yu Xian hung up the phone impatiently.

This was to secure Best Special Effects business—when Yu Xian filmed movies, he gave any Best Special Effects work to Yutu's Special Effects Department domestically.

Best Special Effects needs feeding—it needs work. Without work to feed it, the department can't grow.

Just pouring in money isn't enough. You must go outside, meet client demands, and deliver good Best Special Effects to grow quickly.

Domestic Best Special Effects work is too scarce. Few companies make big films, and the ones that do—Huayi and Bona—won't give work to Yutu.

Don't even think about Hong Kong—they have their own Best Special Effects companies.

And right now, everyone's quietly blacklisting him.

For Animation Department, production, and gaming, you don't need to go outside—just get Yutu's own projects done well.

After hanging up, Fang Hong called Meng Jun, who handled finance and served as Secretary to the Board. The two had an in-depth discussion in an office.

It was about spending money—huge amounts of money. Not just spending the profits from The Conjuring, but also dipping into his own pocket.

The movie The Conjuring is projected to earn over $300 million at the box office—that's roughly $70 to $80 million in net revenue.

Allocate $100 million to buy Tesla shares.

Over the past half-year, Tesla's market cap has been between $2 billion and $3 billion; it only surpassed $3 billion in the second half of the year, then skyrocketed to over $10 billion next year.

This is the perfect moment to enter. If you don't enter now, you'll lose countless millions.

But Fang Hong doesn't intend to claim any equity—he just wants to buy shares anonymously. And pouring in so much money could trigger market fluctuations.

So it must be done in multiple batches, across multiple accounts, to reduce the risk of a single investment portfolio.

That $100 million must be spent within six months.

Meng Jun listened, silently stunned.

"General Manager Fang, spending this much on an obscure stock—your—" He couldn't finish.

If this loses, it's hundreds of millions gone. No one plays like this. Yutu is already a money-sucking hole—you should be pouring money into Yutu, not this.

Right now, Tesla really is garbage. No one pays attention. When Elon Musk came to China for exchanges, he was mocked in turn by Jack Ma, Yang Yuanqing, and other famous entrepreneurs.

"Don't ask why. Don't mention this to anyone. Your job is to carry out my orders," Fang Hong said firmly.

"Alright. I'll need to go to the United States to arrange it," Meng Jun exhaled.

Though he couldn't understand General Manager Fang's actions, he was deeply shaken—this was $100 million to buy shares in an unknown company.

$100 million could do so many things!

"Go ahead. Take care of the arrangements here. Nothing major is happening for now," Fang Hong said.

Just as the two were discussing buying Tesla shares, Yu Xian, having calmed his excitement, dialed Ceng Maojun.

Seeing it was a U. S. number, Ceng Maojun adjusted his posture and answered.

"."

"I heard you were looking for me?"

He was about to speak when the other side replied with that cool, show-off tone.

"Yes, I've spoken with Xiao Fang. He said you're short on funds—we can invest and take equity, grow big and strong together," Ceng Maojun said politely.

"Hah. Why should I take your money? What right do you have to give me money?" Yu Xian acted like he was on top of the world.

Was Wanda not qualified? Ceng Maojun was annoyed but held his temper: "You and Xiao Fang are partners—"

"Don't talk to me about Xiao Fang. Who the hell are you to call him Xiao Fang? You don't even have the right to call him that. Let me tell you—he's nothing in front of me. You're less than nothing." Yu Xian was utterly arrogant.

If Fang Hong knew he was insulting himself too, he'd wonder what to think.

"I'm trying to talk business with you politely. Do you even know manners?" Ceng Maojun's temper flared.

"What the fuck manners? I'm like this. If you don't like it, come fight me. Want to invest and split the cake? Who the hell do you think you are? Get the fuck out."

Yu Xian ranted, cursing loudly, feeling great.

Mostly because the guy was high-ranking—he used to be someone he looked up to, someone he never dared imagine challenging, and now he'd surpassed him.

(End of Chapter)