Chapter 7: Starting a Business Isn

Fang Hong had no power, so he couldn't outargue Liu Tianxian—everything needed strength as backup; words alone could be shut down with a single retort.

You still need to speak properly and negotiate seriously.

"You know my situation—I don't have much money. You take the role first; after the film releases, I'll settle your fee and my debts first." Fang Hong proposed.

Hearing this, Liu Tianxian fell silent! She was thinking—not because she cared about the money, which was barely enough for one luxury car, nothing significant.

She feared the film would turn out bad and ruin her reputation—that would be terrible, for she truly wanted to make a good movie.

She'd read the script; the current market had no such subject matter, and the plot was dull, heavily testing the director's storytelling ability.

Though she knew this man had some talent, he'd never directed a finished film—how could anyone know how it would turn out?

Making a film for someone else is entirely different from organizing your own project! Wang Laoer might not be skilled at directing, but his strength lies in being able to assemble professional insiders—he won't look too bad.

"Some subjects must be tried—you only know if they're good or bad, feasible or not, if you try them. If you don't try, you'll forever stay in place." Fang Hong understood her concerns.

Most actors hesitate when taking roles in new directors' films—it could become a lifelong stain.

For example, Liu Tianwang's film *Those Years*—a debut director, an indelible stain.

Of course, he had many such stains; he probably didn't care anymore.

"Wait until you secure investment and are ready—then we'll talk!" Liu Tianxian wanted to go home and discuss it with her mother first.

When acting in someone else's film, you should still inform your own mother.

"Alright, let's stay in touch by phone—I'll email you the script first." Fang Hong had no objections.

If Liu Tianxian acts, great; if not, find someone else—there are plenty of unknown, cheap actresses now.

They approached Liu Tianxian only because they knew her, she was easy to talk to, and her fame could generate buzz, saving a lot of trouble.

"Get out," Liu Tianxian signaled the driver to stop.

Fang Hong looked out the window and asked, "Where are we?"

Outside, skyscrapers towered, neon lights flashing—it still looked like downtown, but he had no idea where.

The car pulled to a steady stop by the curb, the door automatically opened, and Liu Tianxian said, "I don't know. Get out and you'll find out."

"Damn it, you're dropping me off at home!" Fang Hong said.

"No."

Liu Tianxian kicked him out with one foot.

Watching the business car drive away, Fang Hong was speechless—this girl was too cold-hearted!

Still, he'd at least gotten Liu Tianxian into the car, solving part of the funding issue—the budget for *Those Years* was ten million, leaving a seven-million gap.

The next day, *Love Notice* settled Fang Hong and Chen Zhixi's pay in full; they boarded a train back to Beijing early that morning.

The train ride from Modu to Beijing took about twelve hours, so they arrived quite late.

After resting one night, Chen Zhixi drove, picked up Fang Hong, and set out on their quest for investment.

This girl had real money—she even owned a small car in Beijing! Their first stop was Huayi, the top studio—if they secured investment from this company, money wouldn't be a problem; they could even bring in a host of other backers.

Of course, if Huayi invested, Liu Tianxian wouldn't act—the two sides had a feud! Xinyuan Road in Chaoyang District, this was a commercial zone, surrounded by elegant skyscrapers; Huayi's headquarters stood here—if lucky, you might spot stars coming to work.

Even if you saw anyone, they'd be minor stars—major stars wouldn't show up unless absolutely necessary.

The two arrived at the reception desk; Chen Zhixi told the receptionist, "I already contacted Director Chen—I was told to come here to meet him."

Director Chen was Chen Guofu, Huayi's chief producer—nearly all Huayi films passed through his hands.

Chen Zhixi's ability to reach him was impressive. "Please wait a moment—I'll call to confirm," the receptionist said politely, standing up to dial the landline.

After a while, she hung up and said, "Sorry, Director Chen is currently occupied and can't step away—could you wait a bit longer?"

"Alright," Chen Zhixi didn't suspect a thing.

"Please wait over there," the receptionist pointed to a lounge area not far from the lobby.

As unknown nobodies, they had no say—they went to sit in the lounge and waited.

But they waited an entire hour with no movement; Chen Zhixi couldn't help asking the receptionist again, and the reply was still: wait.

"We're not going to meet him," Fang Hong said as Chen Zhixi returned.

Chen Zhixi sat on the sofa opposite him. "How could that be? I even confirmed with his assistant on the phone."

Fang Hong smiled, saying nothing. This happened often—when you're made to wait, there are two reasons: one is to frustrate you, make you anxious, so they can appear later and dominate your mindset.

That's called: the weak keep time; the strong don't.

The other reason is they don't take you seriously at all—they never intended to meet you, just to toy with you.

Chen Guofu was probably sitting in his office sipping coffee; at his level, who does everything himself? His subordinates handle it.

He was right—Chen Guofu was now sitting in his office reading the newspaper, utterly relaxed, showing no sign of wanting to meet anyone.

Another hour passed—they'd waited two hours. Chen Zhixi went to press again, and the reply was still: wait.

It wore her down—people at these big companies were so arrogant.

By the third hour, it was noon; Huayi staff began leaving for the day, yet they hadn't even glimpsed Chen Guofu.

"Let's go," Fang Hong stood up. Staying here was pointless—it was already past noon, and they'd accomplished nothing.

"Wait, I'll make a call."

Chen Zhixi, unwilling to give up, pulled out her phone and dialed.

The call connected; she smiled and explained their situation—how long they'd waited, and begged him to spare a moment to meet.

But the voice on the other end was flat, showing no understanding of her feelings, replying: "If you can't wait, go home."

"But… wasn't it agreed we'd meet?" Chen Zhixi's face darkened.

"Agreed? You think you're the President of the United States?"

With that, the caller hung up—his arrogance made them grit their teeth.

Chen Zhixi's composure cracked—in Modu, even arrogant investors gave replies, clear on whether they'd invest or not.

Here, they said nothing, just made them wait, with a "wait if you want, leave if you don't" attitude.

Fang Hong was fine; in his past life, he had endured all kinds of cold remarks in pursuit of investment, and he had endured them all.

If you want money, you must lower your dignity and beg!

Luckily they weren't beautiful women; if they were, he'd have to sleep with them, and even during it, they'd demand he call them: Daddy!

You have to call it well—but even then, you might not get the money.

Starting a business isn't that easy.

In truth, there are hardly any people in this world who can recognize true talent.

He didn't comfort Chen Zhixi; if she couldn't handle this, how could she follow him to conquer the world?

(End of Chapter)