Chapter 54: Pulling the Flag as a Tiger Skin (Requesting Monthly Votes)

To shine in public, you must suffer in private~~

For some reason, when the group heard Qi Hao say he had backing, they all simultaneously thought of this saying.

Pfft!

Qi Hao certainly isn’t that kind of person—it’s all those media outlets slandering him lately that threw us off track.

“You know capitalists? No wonder you started your own studio.” Ye Weimin suddenly understood.

Your own failure is terrifying, but a friend’s success is even more agonizing!

Qi Hao didn’t explain, only nodded and said, “I have a friend who wants to invest in a movie for fun—he’s got plenty of money. A big-budget, big-theme film like ours might interest him. How much more do we still need?”

“What does he do?” Chen Kexin had to be certain.

“Coal business…” Qi Hao spoke frankly.

“Oh!!!” Chen Kexin and the others exchanged glances and immediately understood.

So he’s a coal boss!

Directors’ attitudes toward coal bosses can be described as love-hate.

Coal bosses rarely interfere in film production—aside from requesting actresses, they have no other demands and respect professionals deeply.

But occasionally, they slip people in.

The actresses they slip in are of questionable quality, since coal bosses’ taste is utterly appalling.

“Fine, two million for now is enough—we’ll see how things develop later.” Ye Weimin nodded, approving the coal boss’s entry.

Right now, “October Siege” doesn’t lack big capital—it lacks local tycoons.

“Alright, the film festival’s coming up—I’ll give him a call.”

Qi Hao stood up, hurried to a quiet corner, and dialed—naturally, he called Gao Yang.

This coal boss was impatient, repeatedly pressuring Qi Hao to find him a project.

If it weren’t for his daughter being held as collateral at Qi Hao’s studio, he might’ve already flipped out.

Precisely because Gao Yang’s daughter, Gao Fei, worked at Qi Hao’s studio, Qi Hao took extra care in finding projects.

Moreover, Qi Hao was thinking of long-term cooperation.

So he didn’t want Gao Yang to get scammed once he entered.

Even if “October Siege” doesn’t become a box-office smash, it should at least meet award criteria.

After all, Chen Kexin’s films constantly win awards.

“Yang, there’s a project—producer is Chen Kexin, the director of last year’s ‘The Promise’; producer is Ye Weimin, who directed ‘Young and Dangerous: The Story of Hung Hing Thirteen’ and ‘The Incredible Kung Fu Master’ starring Zhou Xingxing; director is Chen Delin, who directed Fang Long’s ‘The Spy Next Door’…”

Before Qi Hao finished speaking, Gao Yang excitedly shouted:

“Invested! Invested!”

It felt like being dragged straight into the World Cup final while just wanting to watch a casual match.

He’d assumed Qi Hao would first offer him a small cake to taste.

After all, as an actor, Qi Hao had no clout or connections in the capital circle.

He never expected a royal flush right out of the gate.

“The Promise,” “Young and Dangerous,” Fang Long… each name rang like thunder.

“Yang, calm down—I need to clarify a few things.”

“Honestly, none of those directors or producers matter—I don’t even know what a producer or supervisor does—but I trust you. If you say invest, then invest.”

Gao Yang had calmed down, but his boldness remained undiminished.

“First, this project has Chen Kexin—he’s capable, but he’s also notoriously greedy. Still, he’s only the supervisor; the director and producer are others, so he can’t do much. I’ll have Lao Tian keep an eye on him…”

These days, some live off looks, others live off shamelessness—Chen Kexin is clearly the latter.

He’s infamous in the industry for skimming money.

But “October Siege” is Chen Delin’s lifelong passion, and Ye Weimin is a man who gets things done.

On the capital side, there’s Yu Dong and Han Sanping.

On a film with a budget of just over one hundred million, Chen Kexin can’t squeeze out much.

As for the Zhonghuan City project worth forty million, that’s handled by Songjiang Film City.

“I understand—no one’s without greed, haha!”

Gao Yang felt a little touched—Qi Hao was genuinely thinking of him.

But the people Qi Hao dealt with were on a completely different level of greed and audacity compared to those Gao Yang knew.

Coal bosses never feared greed—they feared you wouldn’t take.

Of course, the film industry differed from his old business; with Qi Hao vetting things, he could rest easy.

“Second, this film’s investment is high—total over one hundred million. Right now, we need you to invest two million. Personally, I think this movie won’t make much profit, but without a big-name actor like Li Lianjie, it won’t lose much either.”

Qi Hao spoke plainly.

He had no suitable script on hand, so he didn’t want to miss “October Siege,” and wanted to find new investors—but he wouldn’t lie.

“Two million? No problem!” Gao Yang agreed without hesitation.

Compared to spending ten million on an artsy film with no stars or famous directors, investing in this star-studded blockbuster was clearly better.

Later, bragging about it would be incredibly satisfying.

Most coal bosses couldn’t even get such an opportunity.

As his first tuition payment, if he got back even half the two million, Gao Yang would consider it worthwhile.

“Uh, don’t expect too much from this film—I’d only say it’s not a total disaster; calling it a classic? Doubtful.”

Qi Hao couldn’t help reminding him.

He feared Gao Yang, in his first investment, would expect a cinematic masterpiece.

“No problem, no problem—even just watching for fun is fine.”

Coal bosses were exactly like this—wealthy and brash, and they genuinely loved spectacle.

After Qi Hao picked up the car, Gao Yang planned to throw a banquet to celebrate, saying it was Shanxi tradition—banquet plus fireworks.

Unfortunately, Qi Hao refused.

“Third, this film probably can’t slip anyone in—shooting starts in June, and most actors are already locked in.”

“Slip people in?”

Gao Yang didn’t understand.

“Ahem, some investors like to slip in relatives or friends… to experience acting.”

Qi Hao didn’t put it bluntly—it was really about slipping in mistresses, concubines, number three, four, five, six, seven…

Coal bosses: poor, they mind their own business; rich, they take multiple wives.

“No way, don’t worry—I told you, professionals handle professional work. With you here, I trust you completely—I won’t interfere…”

“Then I have no issues—but before investing, Yang, you need to register a company with film investment business.”

Qi Hao didn’t know if Gao Yang had prepared this.

“Oh, just register one for me—under Fei’s name. You don’t need to pay a cent—I’ll give you twenty percent dry shares.”

Gao Yang didn’t care about such minor details.

He trusted Qi Hao completely.

If Qi Hao really wanted to scam him…

Hmm, do you think his billions were dug out one shovel at a time?

“Yang, no way, no way!”

This money felt too hot—Qi Hao still had high standards.

His cooperation with Gao Yang was mainly to hitch a ride into the capital circle, escaping the need to network over drinks.

The convenience was enough—he never intended to profit from Gao Yang.

For example, with “October Siege,” if Gao Yang invests two million, Qi Hao might lose—but his two-million-kuai acting fee will be paid regardless of whether the investment profits or not.

Taking twenty percent would tie him up too tightly.

What if Gao Yang later asked him to launder money… he’d never be able to shake it off.

“Just call it a management fee—I treat you like a brother, don’t be formal.”

But Gao Yang insisted stubbornly—even his act of giving 20% seemed absurd, making Qi Hao uneasy.

Qi Hao still wanted to refuse, but Gao Yang had already hung up.

Besides, the venue was filling up—no longer suitable for phone calls.

Qi Hao reluctantly gave up and went to update Ye Weimin and Chen Kexin.

Don’t stall over two million—get ready to start shooting.

Damn it, a film with a hundred-million budget can’t even afford a two-million gap without delaying the schedule—how brutal is this?

“Your backer hasn’t even shown his face, and he’s already decided to invest?”

Ye Weimin was startled.

Though many films boast billion-yuan budgets,

outside a few big industry firms, most production companies invest under ten million.

A single two-million injection could definitely make money-hungry eyes light up.

“My boss is easygoing and has real money—but this is his first film investment. I hope you guys will help him gain confidence in our project, haha…”

Qi Hao’s words were half-truth, half-fiction.

His main goal was to tell Chen Kexin and Ye Weimin: this coal boss has money, but he’s no fool—if you want to keep working with him, don’t be too greedy.

"Don't worry, don't worry—does he have that kind of money?"

Ye Weimin crossed his index fingers, a gesture meaning ten—here, it asked whether the coal boss had a billion.

"How would I know? I have to be careful around him. I only know he’s doing well, very well-connected..."

Qi Hao was waving a big flag as a tiger’s pelt—he’d certainly inflate Gao Yang’s status.

But Qi Hao wasn’t lying.

Gao Yang must be very well-connected to have gotten this far.

Moreover, he’s not like ordinary coal bosses—he clearly has the kind of character who can pick up the law as a weapon, then put it down and pick up a real one.