Chapter 410: Wei Ping

The IBM 5150 is now in short supply in the U. . market; IBM's original five-year sales forecast will likely be met within a year.

Although it is a personal computer, it is not a laptop and still weighs considerable—11. 4 kilograms without the monitor, priced at $1, 65, or $2, 80 with the monitor.

Even now, sometimes you can't buy one even at $3, 00.

Wei Ming, through Li Aiguo's connections, paid a bit more and bought two units for $7, 00.

The two enormous cardboard boxes were too heavy for Wei Ming to carry himself, so he had them shipped all the way; he was already imagining how convenient it would be to write English novels on the computer.

These two computers came preloaded with VisiCalc spreadsheets and EasyWriter text editing software—the precursors to Office—perfectly adequate for writing.

After acquiring the computer he had long desired, Wei Ming went to an electronic music studio to listen to Elton John's demo recording.

He had previously studied electronic music and had real expertise; his rendition was quite excellent, perhaps slightly different in style from the original A-shen version, but Elton's vocal power was so strong that Wei Ming felt this version might better suit the 1980s.

Elton was also confident in this new song—his chance to turn his fortunes around depended on this one.

Under Li Aiguo's witness, Wei Ming formally signed a contract with Elton John; Wei Ming's share of the earnings would be deposited directly into DreamWorks.

Melinda calculated that with Wei Ming's income from writing books and songs, he could afford to buy a publishing company; that night she pressed him again to finish his new book quickly, so she could quit her job and go solo.

Melinda's pressure to deliver was genuinely earnest.

The next day, Wei Ming and the other two met with MGM representatives again, but this time they were invited to MGM's headquarters, and the executive who received them was of higher rank—the one with decision-making authority.

Upon arriving at MGM's headquarters, they saw many iconic posters of classic films: Gone with the Wind, Tom and Jerry, Ben-Hur, Waterloo Bridge, Doctor Zhivago, Singin' in the Rain, as well as the 007 and Rocky series from United Artists, which had merged with MGM.

No wonder, even when MGM's debts soared, people still wanted to buy it—its legacy was simply too profound.

This time MGM showed real sincerity: the option fee was $200, 00, but not for one year—it was for three.

If within three years the screenplay development and technical environment were insufficient to greenlight production, the rights would revert to Wei Ming, or MGM could renew the contract at $300, 00 for three years.

If production was officially greenlit, the adaptation fee would be $1 million—already a top-tier sum in Hollywood—but with one condition: the previous option fee would be included, meaning only an additional $800, 00 would be paid, totaling $1 million.

Wei Ming's side conceded on this point, but held firm on sequels development, 5% of box office profits, and derivative rights revenue.

To make a sequel, they must buy the novel rights from him again—this was to prevent the studio from manipulating the box office profit split.

If the first film made massive profits, a sequel would inevitably follow; if a sequel was made, they could not bypass the original author, greatly reducing the chance of fraud in box office profit sharing.

Although Wei Lingling herself studied law, she was not a lawyer; with stakes involving millions, she hired a professional law firm, and Li Aiguo's father, Old White, joined in due to his son's connections.

Watching his father make money, Li Aiguo was truly envious—he now had only one thought: pass the U. . bar exam as soon as possible, so that all legal work for Ming-ge in America would be his!

Thanks to Melinda, a professional, Wei Ming's works had no copyright disputes in the U. .; everything was registered, and the contracts progressed smoothly, signed on the same day.

Three days later, the $200, 00, after taxes and legal fees, would be deposited into DreamWorks' account.

But Wei Ming couldn't wait three days—he had been away over a week, it was already March, and he didn't know what condition his home was in.

So he boarded a flight home alone; Melinda returned to London, while Wei Lingling stayed in Los Angeles for a few more days because the Blue Smurfs blind box toys from Hong Kong were arriving soon, and she had to handle specific tasks.

This flight went directly to Beijing, not Hong Kong.

Yet Hong Kong was still circulating stories about him, as Film Biweekly had released the shortlist for the first Golden Horse Awards, and Wei Ming was on it.

Zhou Hui had never bought this magazine before; she only learned about the Golden Horse Awards from classmates.

Then she asked: "Did The Wrong Romance make the shortlist?"

"Of course—if that film didn't make it, the awards wouldn't even be worth holding; the box office and reception were too good!"

"Let me see!"

In the end, they followed Cheng Long's advice and set up a comprehensive list of awards, with three to five nominees for each category.

Best Picture nominees included The Story of Hu Yue, The Wrong Romance, Father and Son, The Outlaw, and Modern Bodyguard, mostly films by New Wave directors.

Best Director nominees were the directors of these five films.

As for Best Actor and Actress, only Ye Tong's nomination for Best Actress made Amin pause briefly; then she turned to Best Screenplay.

Ha! Of course—Aming was nominated!

And not just one award—he was nominated for Best Screenplay for The Wrong Romance, and also for Best Film Song for The Wrong Romance, using his song "Let Everything Follow the Wind."

Additionally, the Golden Horse Awards would select ten outstanding Chinese-language films and ten outstanding foreign-language films, to be revealed at the ceremony and in the next issue of the magazine.

Amin immediately wrote to Wei Ming asking if he would attend.

Wei Ming had just landed in Beijing and hired three tricycles—two to carry the computers, one for himself.

These two computers were packed in three layers inside and out; even a small car would struggle to transport them, so tricycles were the better choice.

All three tricycle drivers gathered around, offering their services; Wei Ming said he'd take them all.

The two drivers assigned to carry the computers were delighted—the cargo was much lighter than the passenger.

The tricycle carrying Wei Ming was at the back; he shouted: "Don't ride too fast—what's inside can't take jolts."

"Comrade, what's inside?" asked the middle-aged driver carrying Wei Ming.

"Computers. You know what those are?"

Wei Ming underestimated the people—he should have known these were tricycle drivers, essentially taxi drivers; to say they knew astronomy and geography was an understatement—how could they not know computers?

"You got these computers from abroad?"

"Yes."

"For personal use?"

"Yes."

"How much did you pay?"

Wei Ming grew wary: "Why are you asking? You're not trying to raise the fare, are we? We already agreed."

"What are you talking about? My son is taking the college entrance exam this year—he says computers have a future and wants to study them. I'm just asking the price; maybe someday I'll buy one for him."

"Wow, your son has good taste—study computers, you absolutely must!"

As for the price, Wei Ming didn't say—he only told him: "If you study, your school will have computers you can use; if you want to buy one personally, let him earn the money himself later."

They first went to a two-courtyard Sihe Academy in Nanchaogu Lane and left one computer there; the other was taken to the Overseas Chinese Apartment.

These two places were Wei Ming's main bases—he even considered temporarily moving the Sheriff and Ginkgo to Nanchaogu Lane to avoid having to go specifically to Beichi to feed them.

No one was home at the Overseas Chinese Apartment; Wei Ming wasn't surprised.