Chapter 0705: Wishful Thinking

As the saying goes, when the cat's away, the mice will play. Zhao Fusheng understood the meaning of this phrase all too well.

And the scene before him was undoubtedly the perfect illustration.

That's right, a few days after Fan Baobao returned from winter break, Fan Beibei moved in.

Without the elders' supervision, the little princess quickly seized leadership, and her subordinates were none other than her sister Fan Baobao and her brother-in-law Zhao Fusheng.

Initially, Zhao Fusheng was a bit unhappy about their private time being interrupted, but the moment he saw the little princess, that displeasure vanished. In this world, nothing was more precious than Beibei's smile.

"Brother, I want you to sing for me."

"Sister, read me a fairy tale."

Faced with such demands, Zhao Fusheng couldn't help but sigh—taking care of a child was no easy task.

Leaving Fan Beibei in Fan Baobao's care, Zhao Fusheng glanced at his phone and headed upstairs.

Upstairs, he pressed the answer button and said with a smile, "Brother Hua, happy Little New Year."

"Little New Year?" Liu Dehua was taken aback, then laughed as well. "Same to you, same to you."

Exchanging pleasantries was a must, whether at home or abroad. No sensible person would be too blunt, because everyone knew that no matter how straightforward one's personality, one must not appear rude.

After chatting about the weather in Hong Kong and the mainland, and then about their recent situations, the Heavenly King finally got to the point.

"Fusheng, have you considered the matter of 'Infernal Affairs' Part Two?"

The Heavenly King's words made Zhao Fusheng frown. Instinct told him that Liu Dehua wouldn't bring this up without reason.

"Brother Hua, what's wrong? Is there a problem?" Zhao Fusheng asked back.

To be honest, he really hadn't planned to write this second part, because Zhao Fusheng felt that the second Infernal Affairs was truly not that good. Moreover, he wasn't a professional screenwriter, and he didn't remember the plot that clearly either.

With these two reasons combined, even though Zhao Fusheng understood the hint in Lau's words, he still pretended to be clueless.

"Well, since its release on New Year's Day, Infernal Affairs has grossed 40 million at the box office." Lau said to Zhao Fusheng with a wry smile. "I won't hide it from you. Mr. Lin is very satisfied with the film's results and plans to continue investing in a second part. So I wanted to ask if you have any thoughts on writing it."

The so-called Mr. Lin naturally referred to Lin Jianle, the boss of Media Asia, who had initially considered not letting Zhao Fusheng be credited as the screenwriter.

Of course, this man was also a well-known tycoon in Hong Kong.

ATV had once been invested in by the Lin family, but the father and son were not good at management. After fourteen years at ATV, they lost nearly three billion Hong Kong dollars and finally had to bow out in disappointment.

Not only that, Zhao Fusheng remembered clearly that Lin Jianyue was currently in trouble. On the eve of the 1997 handover, when the Hong Kong property market was at its peak, Lin Jianle bought the Central Furama Hotel at a high price of 6.9 billion Hong Kong dollars for redevelopment. But the 1998 Asian financial crisis caused property prices to fall. Lai Sun Development, having borrowed from banks to buy the Furama Hotel, ended up with debts exceeding 10 billion Hong Kong dollars, becoming the listed company with the highest losses in the territory, and its stock price plummeted.

It wasn't until later that Lin Jianle ventured into film production, churning out a series of blockbusters and listing to raise money, finally recovering.

And now, it should be a critical moment for Boss Lin's transformation. If Zhao Fusheng remembered correctly, he started his turnaround by investing in Infernal Affairs, though this timeline had been moved forward by two years.

"Writing it is natural, but if I remember correctly, the copyright of Infernal Affairs is in my hands, right?" Zhao Fusheng said calmly to Lau.

He didn't beat around the bush either. The implication was clear: if Boss Lin wanted to make a second part, he would have to show some appreciation.

Business is business, friendship is friendship.

Lau understood this principle better than anyone. He also knew that Zhao Fusheng wouldn't just hand over the copyright of such a film for nothing.

Not to mention anything else, the box office of Infernal Affairs alone had already proven that Zhao Fusheng's words were not wrong—he had indeed written a masterpiece that could save the currently sluggish Hong Kong film market.

And the more this was the case, the more difficult the matter became. After all, Zhao Fusheng was not a director; he was just a screenwriter.

And the status of a screenwriter was sometimes really hard to define.

At the very least, in Lau Tin-wong's eyes, although Zhao Fusheng's status was inferior to his own, he absolutely could not be casually brushed off as some had suggested to Lin Jianle.

Times had changed. Back then, Zhao Fusheng had made a name for himself in the advertising world, but he wasn't part of the film circle—to put it bluntly, he was just a dabbling screenwriter.

Now, according to what Lau Tin-wong had heard, Zhao Fusheng had written at least three movie scripts and had gotten to know quite a few people in the industry.

Having traveled frequently to the mainland, Lau Tin-wong knew very well that although Zhao Fusheng kept a low profile, if Lin Jianle listened to others and quietly produced the second part of Infernal Affairs, even if the script quality could match the first, his reputation would be completely ruined.

Although Hong Kong films were notorious for jumping on the bandwagon, this involved Lau Tin-wong's own reputation. The king, who always cherished his good name, would never allow such a thing to happen.

"I know, that's why I'm calling you. Think it over—when do you have time to write the script for the second part? How about it?" Lau Tin-wong said sincerely to Zhao Fusheng.

"No need." Zhao Fusheng didn't even think about it and directly refused Lau Tin-wong: "Brother Wah, I don't plan to write the second part."

"Huh?"

Lau Tin-wong was stunned, completely taken aback by Zhao Fusheng's answer.

He had thought Zhao Fusheng would explain himself, but instead, he was directly refused without any beating around the bush.

"Fusheng, are you joking?" Lau Tin-wong asked after a moment of silence.

Zhao Fusheng smiled slightly: "Brother Wah, to be honest with you, this script came to me in a flash of inspiration while I was doing an ad campaign. As for writing the sequel, to tell you the truth, I've never even thought about it."

This was the truth. Infernal Affairs had three parts, but Zhao Fusheng only had a strong impression of the first; he didn't remember the others at all. Even if Lau Tin-wong hadn't brought it up, Zhao Fusheng wouldn't have considered writing the so-called second part.

"This..." Lau Tin-wong didn't expect Zhao Fusheng to say that, and for a moment, he didn't know what to say.

He even began to worry: if Zhao Fusheng had a change of heart and refused to authorize Media Asia to continue filming, what would they do?

Fortunately, Zhao Fusheng seemed to guess what he was thinking and said with a slight smile: "Brother Wah, one price: two million. If Media Asia can offer two million, then Infernal Affairs will have nothing to do with me from now on."

"Two million?" Lau Tin-wong gasped. He never expected Zhao Fusheng to ask for such a high price. Was the guy crazy?

But on second thought, he felt that Zhao Fusheng's demand was understandable. After all, he was essentially selling the entire film Infernal Affairs. Anyone with half a brain knew that the box office for Infernal Affairs was poised to break fifty million, or even sixty million.

As the peak of Hong Kong cinema in recent years, if Zhao Fusheng were willing to write the second part, a script fee of two hundred thousand would certainly not be enough. Even if he asked for a million, someone would probably agree.

So now that Zhao Fusheng had set a price of two million, Lau Tin-wong, despite his initial surprise, found it acceptable.

"Brother Wah, don't rush to reply. Remember our agreement?" Zhao Fusheng smiled and asked.

Lau Tak-wah was taken aback, then remembered that before filming Infernal Affairs, he and Zhao Fusheng had signed an agreement: if the total box office exceeded fifty million Hong Kong dollars, then according to the agreement, Zhao Fusheng would receive a five percent share of the excess.

In other words, if the total box office reached sixty million, Zhao Fusheng would get a box office bonus of five hundred thousand Hong Kong dollars in addition to the script fee.

Thinking of this, Lau Tin-wong felt that he wasn't negotiating with a newcomer, but with a cunning old fox.

"Alright, I'll tell Mr. Lin about this. Someone will contact you about the specifics." Lau Tin-wong was silent for a moment, then finally followed Zhao Fusheng's lead and didn't continue the conversation.

Zhao Fusheng put down the phone, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

He wasn't deliberately making things difficult for Lau Tin-wong, but he knew very well that although Lau seemed generous, he wasn't the one calling the shots. Lin Jianle, who had pulled his family back from the brink of bankruptcy and re-entered the top ten tycoons in Hong Kong, was a man used to having his own way.

In other words, such a person would never delegate power to others.

Emperor Taizu of Song, Zhao Kuangyin, once said: 'How can I allow others to sleep soundly beside my bed?' Lin Jianle was the same. In Zhao Fusheng's view, he would rather pay a high price to buy the rights to Infernal Affairs than let Zhao control the film.

To put it bluntly, once the rights were bought, they could do whatever they wanted with the film, and it would have nothing to do with the original creator.

For Zhao Fusheng, if Lin Jianle did that, it would play right into his hands, because Zhao had never intended to make anything of this film from the start.

Zhao Fusheng knew his own limits. He didn't think that if he wrote the second part of Infernal Affairs, he would necessarily succeed.

He would never do something so uncertain.