[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-starting-from-stealing-the-role-in-1995-huayu":3,"chapter-starting-from-stealing-the-role-in-1995-huayu-starting-from-stealing-the-role-in-1995-huayu-chapter-89":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Starting from Stealing the Role in 1995 Huayu",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2321078,4540,"Chapter 89: I Only Accept Myself as Director","starting-from-stealing-the-role-in-1995-huayu-chapter-89",89,"\u003Cp>Looking at Kitano, who had suddenly grown stern and intimidating, Wu Yuchen was not frightened; he slowly set down his teacup and met Kitano’s gaze directly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Mr. Kitano, nothing is impossible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>First, Our Two has won the Tokyo Film Festival’s Grand Jury Prize and Best Actress—both of which greatly aid your promotion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Second, I’m sure you’ve investigated Our Two’s screening performance during the festival: nearly every show sold out, and some viewers returned with family members for second or even third viewings. Given the Japanese audience’s enthusiasm for Our Two, 300 million yen is not a difficult target.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Many art cinemas in Japan run films for half a year or longer; The Mountain, the Man, and the Dog screened for over a year, earning 800 million yen in box office without any awards, purely through word-of-mouth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if Our Two doesn’t match The Mountain, the Man, and the Dog, based on what Wu Yuchen observed, 300 million yen is no problem—even 400 to 500 million is possible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Yuchen continued:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Moreover, after the theatrical run, you can sell the TV rights to broadcasters and then release a premium DVD collector’s edition—both are profit streams.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He paused, then added:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Note: I’m selling all Asian rights except mainland China. This includes Korea, Singapore, Taiwan, and even Hong Kong. How much you make from them is your business, Kitano Studio—I don’t care.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yes, Wu Yuchen didn’t want to go through the hassle—he’d rather sell everything at once. He had neither the channels nor the energy to handle this himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Upon hearing this, Kitano’s eyes lit up. It wasn’t unthinkable—if they could earn it, it was up to their own capabilities. These developed regions all had art-house circuits; there was a market for arthouse films. With Our Two’s two Tokyo Film Festival awards, it could still find buyers elsewhere.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Seven hundred thousand dollars…” Kitano, having done the math, began negotiating with Wu Yuchen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the end, they agreed on $1.2 million. It wasn’t that Kitano lost his mind—it was that Wu Yuchen had added U.S. and European rights, and he simply had neither the channels nor the energy to handle them himself, even with Tang Yu’s company stretched thin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tang Yu had already taken The Night the Comet Came to the Sitges Film Festival, trying to win an award to sell Asian and South American rights again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In his past life, Jia Zhangke made 5 million yuan from Xiao Wu—note, that was just his personal earnings; the distributor made far more. So selling Our Two’s rights for $1.2 million wasn’t surprising. Kitano, with his channels and hustle, would definitely profit—maybe even double it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Yuchen saved time and energy—why not invest that money in Yahoo stock instead of running around the world selling rights?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Speaking of Yahoo stock, he’d invested $2 million months ago at $18.55 per share; now it had risen to $23.50, giving him a market value of $2.53 million.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To be honest, though he’d made a good profit, Yahoo didn’t seem to have entered its upward phase yet. In contrast, the domestic stock he’d bought—Changhong—had gone into a frenzy, skyrocketing. He’d initially invested $800,000, withdrawn $160,000 to shoot The Night the Comet Came, and now it had grown to $3.28 million—truly incredible!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But domestic stocks weren’t his largest asset. Before coming to Japan, Wu Jianping’s publishing house had paid him royalties for two million copies—after taxes, 4.38 million yuan. Don’t think it’s small—book prices back then were far lower than they’d be ten years later.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In 1996, 4.38 million was a fortune; the sum left Wu Jianping and Zhou Shulan dazed for days.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Jianping hadn’t even had time to discuss the money with Wu Yuchen before he’d already flown to Tokyo.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In fact, right after arriving in Tokyo, Wu Yuchen contacted a brokerage to register several screenplays in the United States.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Upon inquiry, he discovered he qualified to join the Writers Guild of America. The American adaptation of his short film Car 44 had been released, costing $1.7 million but earning $12.5 million at the box office. As the original screenwriter, he was credited, and Sony Classics had no problem giving him a recommendation letter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He registered the screenplays in the U.S. to pave the way—some films couldn’t be made in China, and domestic box office growth would take at least ten more years. During that time, he’d likely need to go to the U.S. to build credibility. Also, if he didn’t register these scripts now, they’d be too late in a few years—he’d write them down, attract interest, and use them as bargaining chips.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shortly after finalizing the deal with Kitano, he received a call from the U.S.—it was Frank from Fox Searchlight, who had bought The Night the Comet Came.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After returning from Sydney, Frank had arranged a limited release of The Night the Comet Came in Asian neighborhoods. Initially, the response was flat—not particularly surprising—but its attendance rate didn’t drop over the next two weeks. So Fox Searchlight expanded to more independent theaters, and within two months, total box office reached $6.3 million.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Frank believed that if they made an American version and expanded the release, revenue could easily exceed $10 million.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wu, can you stay in Japan for another week? I’ll send someone to discuss the adaptation rights with you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sure, but Frank, let’s negotiate the price over the phone.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Alright, Wu. I know you’re a decisive man—just name your price.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Frank, given our long-standing relationship, I won’t be greedy. How about one million?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Heh, that’s not being greedy? We’ve paid only $500,000 for adaptation rights to European films.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Yuchen didn’t argue; he smiled into the phone:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Frank, you know films are different. My The Night the Comet Came relies entirely on originality—its entire essence lies in the script. The production cost was extremely low—even if you hired a low-tier director to copy the original, you could shoot it for under $500,000.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One million for adaptation rights plus half a million for production equals $1.5 million total. But I’m certain it will bring you far more than that.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If you truly can’t accept it, I’ll have to go to Sony Classics.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Yuchen now understood clearly: in his past life, The Night the Comet Came flopped in 2014—partly because of its slow start, partly because the concept was no longer fresh. By then, Cube had already come out, so audiences found the imitation unoriginal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But now it was the 1990s—these strengths were still astonishing to many film fans. So whether in China or the U.S., its reception exceeded Wu Yuchen’s expectations. One million for adaptation rights wasn’t high at all.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Frank fell silent for a moment, then said: “Alright, Wu. One million dollars. No need to contact Sony—I’ll send someone to Japan immediately.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Don’t worry, Frank. I’ve always been a man of my word. By the way, I just registered three new screenplays in the U.S.—if you’re interested, take a look.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh? I’ll definitely check them out!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a few more pleasantries, they ended the call.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fox Searchlight moved fast. The next day, their staff arrived in Tokyo and, without rest, brought the contract straight to Wu Yuchen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everything went smoothly: signing the contract meant immediate wire transfer. Even before Kitano Studio’s $1.2 million had arrived, Fox Searchlight’s payment had already cleared—this confirmed to Wu Yuchen that The Night the Comet Came was performing well in the U.S.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The very next day, Frank called again, praising immediately:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wu, you’re incredibly talented! I’ll take all three screenplays—$1.5 million. That’s already a high price for a screenwriter!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Frank, thank you for the compliment. I’m only selling one for now—which one do you like best?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Frank hesitated, then said: “Frequency.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Chinese title of Frequency is Black Hole Frequency, also known as Frequency or Save the Future Across Time—but the latter two are more accurate; the film has nothing to do with black holes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Frequency, released in 2000, tells the story of a son in 1999 communicating with his father in 1969 via an old radio, changing the past to alter the present.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This film pioneered the genre of altering the past within the same timeline—later films like England’s Phone Booth, Spain’s Mirrors, Korea’s Signal, and Hong Kong’s The Detective’s Time Machine all expanded on this concept, merely replacing the medium with a telephone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This film couldn’t be made in China—not just because of the plot, but because 30 years ago, China was still in a different era. Even changing it to 20 years ago wouldn’t work, so Wu Yuchen didn’t even consider adapting it—it was meaningless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Frequency was both a commercial and critical success, so Wu Yuchen listed it as one of his scripts to break into the U.S. market.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wu, your creativity for time and space themes is truly brilliant—you’re a genius in this field!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Frank kept praising, and with The Night the Comet Came’s success fresh in mind, Frequency was his first choice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Frank, $500,000 is fine, but I have one condition.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Say it!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I want to direct.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Frank fell silent on the other end. After a few seconds, he laughed again:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wu, you wanting to direct is fine—I’ll give you The Night the Comet Came and $1 million in production funding. I’m sure you can make…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Yuchen cut him off: “Frank, you know what I mean—I want to direct Frequency.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Frank sighed and said:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wu, I’m sorry, but Fox won’t approve this request. After reading the script, I knew this was a ten-million-dollar project. Your The Night the Comet Came has done well, but it’s still a Chinese film.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Yuchen understood immediately: his credentials weren’t enough to direct a ten-million-dollar project.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then I won’t sell the rights. I only accept myself as director. Frank, if you believe in my ability, you’ll be surprised.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wu, this isn’t about ability. In Hollywood, everything is a transaction—you need enough leverage to earn equal opportunity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I have a proposal: if you’re willing to direct the American version of The Night the Comet Came, and if its box office exceeds $10 million, you’ll build enough credibility for the company to consider you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Maybe?” Wu Yuchen asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes, maybe,” Frank confirmed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Yuchen smiled bitterly. Reality was this: Hollywood wasn’t easy to enter, and it held prejudice against Asians.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he were Jewish, even with only Car 44 as his portfolio, he might have gotten the chance to direct Frequency. But as an Asian, he had to prove himself exceptional before Hollywood would even notice him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Yuchen smiled:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Frank, thank you for the suggestion, but an artist’s life is precious—I don’t want to repeat meaningless tasks. And it won’t be long before you come begging me to direct. I’m certain of it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Frank sighed and didn’t try to raise the offer. It didn’t matter anymore—this man, like many directors, cared most about directing opportunities. That’s just how they were.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After hanging up, Wu Yuchen exhaled. Breaking into Hollywood wasn’t easy. Wu Baige had only gotten his chance after his Hong Kong action films sold well on DVD in the U.S.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since Hollywood said he wasn’t qualified, Wu Yuchen decided to make a time-loop film that would become a classic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then Wu Yuchen calculated his new $2.2 million windfall and planned to split it into three parts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One part: $1 million to keep buying Yahoo stock—it was a safe investment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Second: $800,000 to bring back to China to buy Changhong. According to Zhou Shulan’s past account of a 20-fold surge, Changhong still had four to five times left to grow. Seeing Changhong skyrocket, Wu Yuchen wanted to make some quick money.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Third: $400,000 held aside as funding for his next film. For example, the courtyard for Our Two could be bought now—450,000 yuan—far cheaper than later prices, since the courtyard was small and dilapidated. The rest should suffice for his next film.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for the four million-plus from his books, he’d leave it with his parents—he didn’t need the money now, and it could serve as an emergency reserve.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But for his next film, he needed to return home first to ask around—would it need to be a co-production? He’d need someone to help him make connections.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thinking this, Wu Yuchen made no further delay—he immediately bought a return ticket for the next day. His trip to Japan had been highly profitable; he could go home now. Grandmother Jin Yaqin was probably waiting for his awards!\u003C\u002Fp>",2068,"2026-06-20T16:09:29.273Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","c3978979340519ac92ce884493f0872fffa62d84e0e05160fc270a8f5f4fd5e2","starting-from-stealing-the-role-in-1995-huayu-chapter-90","starting-from-stealing-the-role-in-1995-huayu-chapter-88",335,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fstarting-from-stealing-the-role-in-1995-huayu-cover.jpg"]