A century-old wealthy family that rose from Shanghai

Thirty days after its release, "Snake in the Eagle's Shadow" raked in HK$3 million at the Hong Kong box office. Although not as dazzling as Michael Hui's films, it was undoubtedly a shot in the arm for Times Film Productions. Chung Yuen-kwong, the deputy director of the production department, secured his position in Times Film Productions by discovering Jack Cheng and serving as the producer of "Snake in the Eagle's Shadow".

Meanwhile, Times Pictures officially began filming "Drunken Master," with Chung Yuen-kwong and Chen Meng-yi still serving as producers; however, Chen Meng-yi was now able to take on more work.

Those who know the company's employees and the creative team understand that this heiress is the successor of 'Times Pictures'; while Chen Mengyi, on the job, is just like her father, rather serious and strict, but always focused on the issue, not the person.

That day, after filming a scene for "Drunken Master," Jack Cheng was summoned to the administrative conference room of Times Film Studio.

"Godfather, Miss Chen"

He didn't dare to look at Chen Mengyi even once; she was a true heiress, unapproachable.

Zhong Yuanguang smiled and nodded, saying, "Jack, given your excellent performance in 'Snake in the Eagle', Miss Chen spoke highly of you at the company and applied for a new contract for you."

Jack's current salary is HK$5000 per month.

He was somewhat flattered and said, "Thank you so much, Godfather, Miss Chen, and the company for your great support. Actually, I've only filmed one decent movie so far, and the company suffered losses before that."

Chen Mengyi interrupted directly, saying, "Alright, stop being modest. Jack, although your first three movies didn't do very well at the box office, the company still made a profit. After all, our distribution network covers the whole of Asia, so even the worst movies can still make a profit."

This is a warning, implying that Era Films' extensive network of cinemas across Asia is the biggest guarantee for its productions.

Jack Cheng naturally understood this as well. Era Films was the representative of Hong Kong, a true behemoth. Even Shaw Brothers, the 'perennial runner-up,' had a much smaller market share.

Then, Chen Mengyi handed the contract to Jack Cheng and said, "This is your new contract. If there are no problems, sign your name!"

Jack's face immediately turned red, and he stammered, "Miss Chen, I can't read. Could you help me take a look, Godfather?"

Chung Yuen-kwong smiled as he took the contract and read aloud, “It means that by signing this contract, you will receive a signing bonus of HK$1 million, and the company will sign you for three years, requiring you to shoot no less than two films each year. Your fixed monthly salary will be HK$100, and the bonus for each film will be 10% of the Hong Kong box office. Other benefits include allowing you to direct and star in 'Drunken Master' if it is successful; and supporting you in establishing a film company and continuing your collaboration with Times Films after the three-year contract ends.”

Jack Cheng was stunned; this contract seemed like a windfall. He had signed a three-year contract with Times Pictures, with a monthly salary of 5000, and there was still more than a year left on the contract.

The company's early signing of the new contract for him demonstrates their high regard and commitment to his development. Not to mention, the HK$100 million signing bonus is an astronomical sum.

Chen Mengyi placed the check on the table and added, "You don't need to feel uneasy! The reason I applied for a new contract for you is because I am very confident in 'Drunken Master' and in how you will be used over the next three years. In short, under the guidance of Times Pictures, you will become a kung fu superstar like Bruce Lee, but you will not follow the same style."

"Thank you, godfather, thank you, Miss Chen, I'll sign!"

Zhong Yuanguang smiled and pushed the printing ink pasted him, saying, "After you get the money, focus on filming this movie. Don't go out and have a good time, or I won't let you off the hook!"

"Yes, yes, godfather!"

Chen Mengyi said from the side, "Jack, you're still young. Having some money isn't necessarily a good thing. I suggest you invest in property now. It will appreciate in value and you won't get scammed by women."

When she said these words, she was completely advising from a 'higher' position, without any thought of her own feelings as a girl.

Jack was naturally extremely grateful upon hearing this.

In the afternoon at Clearwater Bay Villas, sunlight filters through the palm leaves, casting dappled golden spots on the pool surface.

Clearwater Bay has become a high-end residential area in Hong Kong, but it used to be a rural area. The Clearwater Bay Times Studios has gradually boosted the value of the surrounding land.

Chen Guangliang leaned back on a rattan lounge chair by the pool, holding Dipola, who had just come out of the pool, in his arms. She was wearing a champagne-colored silk robe, the neckline loosely hanging down to her shoulders, revealing her beautiful collarbone. Water droplets dripping from the ends of her hair slid down her neck and into the collar, leaving a glistening water mark.

"Mr. Chen, how do you maintain your youthful appearance?"

Dipola snuggled closer to him, her delicate hand gently tracing his chest, her voice as soft as honey.

She continued, "He looks more energetic than me, like he's thirty years younger. Please teach me!"

Her eyes were slightly upturned at the corners, and her eyelashes were long and thick. When she spoke, her eyes always had a captivating quality, and even her questions sounded like she was being coquettish.

Chen Guangliang looked down at her—Dipola was very beautiful, the kind of striking beauty that was almost aggressive: high brow bones, deep-set eyes, and two small dimples when she smiled, yet her eyes were also very alluring, like a fox with a hidden agenda.

"Want to know?" Chen Guangliang leaned close to her ear, lowered his voice, and said with a hint of teasing.

Dipola's cheeks flushed instantly. She reached out and gently punched his chest, but her tone softened: "You're lying again... There's no such simple method."

Chen Guangliang chuckled softly, pinching her reddened earlobe with his fingertips: "Whether I'm lying or not, you'll know once you try."

Dipola didn't argue anymore. Instead, she picked up a plump green grape from the fruit plate and held it to his lips.

"I'm going swimming."

Dipola got up from his arms and casually pulled off her bathrobe—underneath was a black two-piece bikini that perfectly accentuated her shapely figure.

She swayed her serpentine waist to the edge of the pool, turned back and gave Chen Guangliang a flirtatious wink, then leaped in, splashing up a string of sparkling water droplets.

Chen Guangliang sat up straight, picked up the champagne glass next to him, and gently swirled the amber liquid inside.

He watched Deborah swim like a graceful mermaid in the pool, sometimes swimming on her back to reveal her slender neck, sometimes turning around and tossing her long, wet hair. A knowing glint flashed in his eyes—Deborah wasn't originally in his plans, but when she took the initiative to approach him, he suddenly realized that he was missing someone like her: smart, witty, and knowing how to please him. She was perfect as his 'personal matchmaker,' so he wouldn't have to personally intervene if he wanted to find some new fun in the future.

Dipola in the pool seemed to sense his gaze. She swam to the edge, leaned over with one hand, and water droplets dripped down her hair and collarbone. Her eyes were alluring: "Mr. Chen, want to come swim with me?"

"it is good"

Immediately, Chen Guangliang stood up, revealing his strong physique, full of explosive power. In the office of the New York Alcon Company, Chen Wen'ou (Vivek Hepburn) looked at the neatly arranged "cabbage dolls" on the table, his fingers gently brushing the freckles on the dolls' cheeks—these dolls had different curly and straight hair, light brown and golden hair colors, some wearing floral dresses, some wearing overalls, and even their eyes had different liveliness, truly achieving "a thousand faces for a thousand people".

"Mr. Vidocq, the commercial for the TV station has been edited. Would you like to take a look?" The marketing manager knocked on the door and came in, holding a videotape in his hand.

Chen Wenou nodded, got up and walked to the projector.

The screen lights up, and in the picture, a little girl with pigtails is holding a "cabbage doll" and carefully signing the adoption certificate, while her mother next to her smiles and helps her put the doll's birth certificate into a small envelope.

A gentle voice-over says, "Each cabbage leaf doll has its own name and story. Would you like to be its mom or dad?"

"very good,"

Chen Wen-ou turned off the projector, his tone firm, "Starting tomorrow, we'll broadcast it intensively during Saturday morning cartoon time, at least five times a day. Also, have the venues for the 'mass adoption ceremonies' in Los Angeles and Chicago been confirmed?"

"It's all confirmed. The Los Angeles Children's Museum has set up an 'adoption table' and even prepared staff dressed as nurses."

The manager handed over the schedule, saying, "You will be personally going to Los Angeles next week to host the first ceremony. The deputy director will handle the Chicago event on your behalf."

Chen Wenou took the schedule, his finger pausing on the word "Los Angeles"—this was the second project he had independently led since leaving his father's wing.

The former is Red Bull, and the latter is Cabbage Baby, but both undoubtedly require marketing strategies.

From the design of the "cabbage doll" to the planning of the industrial chain, every step reveals his ambition.

He recalled his father Chen Guangliang's words: "Understanding consumers' emotional needs is more important than selling the product itself."

The core of the "cabbage doll" concept is to fill the emotional void left by the wave of divorces and war trauma in American society through the ritual of "adoption".

On the first day the advertisement went live, it caused a stir in one New York family. Seven-year-old Amy sat in front of the TV, her eyes shining as she stared at the cabbage doll on the screen: "Mommy, I want that doll! Its name is Lily, and it even has its own birth certificate!"

Mary, the mother, shook her head helplessly: "We already have too many dolls at home."

“It’s different!” Amy stood up anxiously, pointing at the screen. “It needs me to adopt it and I have to sign an adoption certificate. I will take good care of it!”

Such scenes are playing out repeatedly across the United States.

On Saturday mornings during cartoon time, the usually noisy children suddenly quiet down and stare at the cabbage doll in the advertisements; parents are touched by the details of the "birth certificate" and "adoption certificate"—this is not an ordinary toy, but more like a "child" that needs to be cared for.

A week later, Alcon's phones were ringing off the hook. "Where can I buy cabbage dolls?"

"I want to adopt a child for my daughter. What documents do I need?"

The customer service staff were extremely busy, while Chen Wenou looked at the sales data and a smile appeared on his lips.

The Los Angeles Children's Museum was bustling with activity.

A banner reading "Cabbage Doll Mass Adoption Ceremony" hung at the entrance. Staff members dressed in white nurse uniforms stood behind the "adoption table," holding beautifully packaged dolls. Chen Wen'ou, wearing a dark suit and a "Witness for Adoption" badge, greeted the arriving families with a smile.

“Mr. Vidocq, may I adopt two? One for my daughter and one for my niece.” A woman named Sarah was holding a folder containing pre-prepared adoption applications.

Chen Wenou smiled and nodded: "Of course, each doll has a unique identity. You can choose your favorite style first."

Sarah walked to the display stand, picked up a blonde, blue-eyed doll in a pink dress, and flipped it over to the doll's arm—there was a blue "midwife" stamp and a string of tiny footprints. "It's so realistic," she couldn't help but exclaim, "It's like having a real baby."

After the ceremony began, the children lined up, signing their names shakily on the adoption certificates, and then receiving their dolls and birth certificates from the "nurses." Amy was among them. Holding her own "Lily," she carefully put the birth certificate into her small wallet, looked up at Chen Wen'ou, and said, "Sir, I will tell Lily stories every day."

Chen Wenou squatted down and patted her head: "Then Lily will definitely be very happy."

The ceremony was covered in its entirety by local media.

In newspapers, smiling faces of children holding dolls dominated the front page; on television news, footage of Chen Wenou hosting the ceremony was repeatedly played.

For a time, "adopting cabbage babies" became the hottest topic in the United States, and the follow-up ceremonies in Chicago and Boston were packed to capacity. Some parents even lined up a day in advance just to secure an adoption spot for their child.

As the craze intensifies, more and more "extreme cases" emerge—a woman in New York adopted 100 cabbage dolls at once and dedicated a room in her home to display them; outside toy stores in Los Angeles, scalpers were reselling dolls for three times their original price, yet people were still snapping them up.

In the conference room of Orcon Company, team members excitedly reported: "We have sold 20 sets of matching baby sheets and 15 strollers. The supply chain is fully operational!"

Chen Wenou was not satisfied. Pointing to the market research report, he said, "Many parents have expressed a desire to have clothes customized for their dolls. We can launch 'seasonal limited editions,' such as Christmas outfits and Easter outfits, and also open up customization services so that parents can embroider their own names on their dolls."

"But that would increase costs..."

“Emotional needs are priceless,”

Chen Wenou interrupted him, his eyes resolute, and said, "We're not selling toys, we're selling emotional support. As long as we can capture the hearts of our customers, cost is not an issue."

"Yes, President"

Cabbage Baby achieved sales of over $1 million in just three months after its launch, and the growth rate is accelerating.

Media reports indicate that Mattel, the toy giant behind Cabbage Puff, also holds a 50% stake, which has boosted Mattel's market capitalization to over $3 billion.

The continued success allowed Audrey Hepburn's family to establish a firm foothold in the business world. (End of Chapter)