Chapter 275: I

"Sorry, we currently have no intention of selling translation rights. If Miss Wu is dissatisfied with our cooperation agreement, we can discuss it another day."

Pei Wencong rejected Wu Jinyuan without any pressure.

He had spent a year with Li Ye and was no longer the small fry who used to polish his old leather shoes eight times before going out.

Wu Jinyuan did not become discouraged; instead, she said: "May I request an additional condition?"

Pei Wencong replied amiably: "Of course, Miss Wu, you may propose any requirement you wish."

Wu Jinyuan took a gold-embossed business card from her bag and said: "I am willing to waive my share of the market sales proceeds from the translation, but I insist on retaining the film and television adaptation rights for A Song of Ice and Fire."

"So Miss Wu is from the Southern Ocean Wu Cultural Group! We're actually in the same line of work!"

Only after seeing the card did Pei Wencong realize Wu Jinyuan was interested in the film and television adaptation of A Song of Ice and Fire.

He was surprised, because Li Ye had never mentioned the film and television adaptation prospects of A Song of Ice and Fire.

It wasn't Li Ye's fault—after all, in the original timeline, this classic was not published until ten years later, and its film and TV explosion came over twenty years after that; at this point, even the first book wasn't finished, and there was no sign yet of any derivative potential.

But Wu Jinyuan had keenly sensed the business opportunity—her vision was truly exceptional.

"Mr. Pei, you've been thriving these past two years—I've heard your name long ago in Lijiapo. We have complete film and television distribution capabilities and can complement your TaLang Literature Publishing House—"

"For example, your novels Wind Blowing North and The Lonely Garrison Looking Homeward could both be adapted into animation, films, or TV series."

"Yes, yes, I'm well aware of the Wu Cultural Group's capabilities—I have a friend working there, hehe."

"I also know a bit about TaLang. Forgive me for being blunt, but if you want to maximize the profits from this work, you need a powerful partner. Wu Cultural Group's strength and reputation in the industry are widely recognized; we have close ties with Lighthouse's film companies and are fully capable of distributing this type of content."

Wu Jinyuan no longer concealed her intentions and began discussing deep cooperation with Pei Wencong.

Her aura now was entirely different from the gentle, low-key demeanor she had when she first entered—she radiated the unmistakable presence of a powerful businesswoman.

Li Ye had little interest in such commercial maneuvering; he preferred straightforward cooperation—either mutual willingness or parting ways, no pretense, no hypocrisy.

The film and television adaptation rights and distribution rights for A Song of Ice and Fire would never be handed over to anyone else; the value of this world-class IP extended far beyond mere surface profits.

Media is the mouthpiece.

Manufacturing is the foundation of strength, but media is the enforcer in fights—TaLang Literature Publishing House's future profits may be far smaller than other areas, yet its importance is no less.

So Li Ye crossed his legs on the sofa and stared blankly at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Pei Wencong noticed Li Ye's change and ended the conversation with Wu Jinyuan after two minutes.

Wu Jinyuan finally showed a look of surprise.

Before coming, she had thoroughly researched TaLang Literature Publishing House; her offer of two hundred thousand was a precise probe.

A year ago, Wu Jinyuan's two hundred thousand U. . dollars might have truly stunned Pei Wencong.

At that time, Pei Wencong didn't even have three hundred thousand U. . dollars in assets.

Even a few months ago, two hundred thousand U. . dollars was an irresistible temptation for Pei Wencong.

Wind Blowing North and The Lonely Garrison Looking Homeward had sold well, but their accumulated profits amounted to only a few million Hong Kong dollars—two hundred thousand U. . dollars equaled two million Hong Kong dollars, and it should have been a decisive hit.

Yet Pei Wencong's response kept catching her off guard—why?

Wu Jinyuan slowly turned her head, imprinting Li Ye's shadow deeply into her mind.

After seeing Wu Jinyuan off from TaLang Publishing House, Pei Wencong found Li Ye.

"That woman is no ordinary person—she's set her sights on all of TaLang."

"Really? I thought she was only interested in the film and television adaptation rights!"

"Heh~" Pei Wencong chuckled: "The Wu Cultural Communication Group is among the top three cultural conglomerates in Southern Ocean—how could a vice president come all the way to Hong Kong just for the adaptation rights of one book?"

"Cooperating with them is like dancing with a shark—you might get swallowed whole, bones and all."

Li Ye smiled: "Don't be so modest—you'll be a big fish soon. Besides, she's just here as a translator to collect her prize."

"Hmph, who knows if she's even a real author?"

"."

Pei Wencong felt Li Ye's prediction was about to become reality.

The exchange rate between Hong Kong dollars and U. . dollars was plummeting at an astonishing pace, breaking below the 9. threshold and accelerating downward.

"Mr. Li, in just three days, Ah Bo has made us three or four million U. . dollars—I'm starting to think literature publishing is pointless; after half a year of hard work, we've earned less than we did in three days."

"Ah Bo bet on the decline? Oh, right—everyone's betting on the decline now."

Li Ye paused, then understood.

Ah Bo had signed a contract with him to manage trading on his behalf; since Ah Bo said to buy the rise after the rate fell below 9. , it wasn't strange that he now bet on the decline.

But making three or four million U. . dollars from a drop of just over three cents clearly meant low leverage—extremely cautious.

In fact, this was the normal operation of a professional trader: appropriate position, appropriate leverage, adapting to the wind, timely risk avoidance.

His own precise trading plan was the kind of "the bigger the storm, the more valuable the fish"—a gamble with one's life.

Pei Wencong watched Li Ye's expression and asked: "Mr. Li, Ah Bo wants to invite you to dinner—when would be convenient?"

Li Ye said: "No need to pick a day—let's go today!"

"Alright, I'll contact Ah Bo right away."

Pei Wencong called Luo Runbo, but the other side said he was home with his wife today—Pei Wencong cursed him out, complaining he was letting them down at a critical moment.

"Mr. Li, Ah Bo's wife is seven months pregnant and hasn't been feeling well lately."

"Then tomorrow! I'm leaving in a couple of days—I won't have time later."

Pei Wencong immediately called again, resenting Luo Runbo for being so fussy—could spending time with his wife possibly be more important than Li Ye?

But before Pei Wencong could pick up the phone, it rang.

When he answered, he heard his sister Pei Wenhui's urgent Cantonese—clearly trembling with tears.

"Wenhui, don't panic—tell me where you are now? Yuen Long Police Station? Okay, okay, I'm coming right away."

After hanging up, Pei Wencong dialed Luo Runbo again: "Lao Luo, forget your wife! Go to Yuen Long Police Station right now! Stop whining—I've got a problem with my sister!"

Li Ye watched the flustered Pei Wencong, silently putting on his coat and shoes.

Li Dayong was with Pei Wenhui—this must be something serious.

Indeed, after hanging up, Pei Wencong awkwardly said to Li Ye: "Sorry, Mr. Li, there's an emergency now, but I'll handle it."

Li Ye said nothing, simply getting into the back seat of the Mercedes.

Pei Wencong called for Ah Qiang, and they sped to the New Territories. When they arrived at Yuen Long Police Station, they found a crowd in chaos, while Pei Wenhui was hiding in a room, crying—but she didn't appear injured.

Pei Wencong first spoke with the officers, then asked his sister: "Wenhui, what happened?"

Pei Wenhui sobbed: "I was coming home from the factory when I ran into a few cars... my driving's bad, they forced me into the roadside drain... Mr. Li couldn't stand it—"

It took Li Ye and Pei Wencong a long time to piece it together.

Apparently, Pei Wenhui and Li Dayong had been driving home when they encountered several street racers. Because Pei Wenhui's Mini Cooper was a sports car, they targeted her. She had only recently gotten her license and was forced into the roadside drainage ditch.

Then Li Dayong got furious—and after that, nothing else happened.

Pei Wencong asked incredulously: "You mean Mr. Li sent seven people to the hospital?"

Pei Wenhui nodded frantically: "They started it! They used baseball bats! It's not Mr. Li's fault!"

Pei Wencong turned to Li Ye, swallowed hard, and asked: "Mr. Li, is that Mr. Li really a student?"

Li Ye glanced at him coldly: "Don't believe me? I'm actually better at fighting than he is. Tell me—are you still questioning whether I'm a student?"

"."

My condition today was terrible—I'll make up for it with three chapters tomorrow, I promise. Sorry!

(End of Chapter)