I'm conquering Hong Kong entertainment with two billion US dollars.

A Mercedes-Benz was waiting under the eaves at the hotel entrance. It was Li Jiaxin's car. From today onwards, it was his to use.

Ah-Qiang opened the back door, and Lin Dong bent down and got in. Ah-Wei sat in the passenger seat, and Ah-Qiang went around to the driver's seat and started the engine. The Mercedes silently glided out of the hotel entrance and merged into the traffic on Salisbury Road.

Lin Dong leaned back in his leather seat, watching the buildings outside the window recede into the distance, one by one.

This was actually his first time visiting the company. Tengda Film Investment Company—the name had been chosen several days ago, and the signboard had been up for two days, yet he, the boss, didn't even know which way the door faced.

East Asia Bank Building, 12th floor.

The elevator doors opened, and Chen Xinjian was already waiting in the corridor. He bowed slightly and said, "Mr. Lin."

"Mr. Chen".

Chen Xinjian stepped aside to lead the way and pushed open the glass door. The Tengda signboard was embedded in the wall of the porch; it was made of bronze, freshly polished, and so shiny that it reflected one's image.

The company logo hangs on the wall behind the reception desk—a simple outline of a horse soaring into the air, with the words "Tengda Film & Television" in both Chinese and English below.

The receptionist stood up and bowed slightly.

The office area is small, but well-designed. There are six desks in the open-plan workspace, four of which are currently empty.

Nameplates are affixed to the frosted glass doors of the finance and legal offices.

The conference room has a long table that can seat twelve people, and floor-to-ceiling windows facing Victoria Harbour, where the afternoon sun slices the sea into millions of pieces of gold.

A girl was sitting on the sofa in the reception area.

White T-shirt, jeans, canvas shoes. Her ponytail was tied high, revealing her entire face.

Zhang Baizhi sat on the edge of the sofa, his hands neatly placed on his knees, his back ramrod straight.

Upon seeing Lin Dong enter, she immediately stood up, her lips moving slightly, probably hesitating whether to address him as "Mr. Lin" or "Boss."

Chen Xinjian said in a low voice, "Ms. Zhang completed the signing yesterday. She is now Tengda's only signed artist."

Lin Dong nodded. His gaze lingered on Zhang Baizhi for a moment before shifting away.

He didn't speak to her, but walked straight to the largest door at the end of the corridor.

Above the door is a bronze plaque with two characters: Lin Dong.

Zhang Baizhi stood there, watching his figure disappear behind the door. She pursed her lips, sat back down on the sofa, and placed her hands back on her knees.

The office is very large.

A mahogany desk, a genuine leather swivel chair, and the bookshelf behind it is currently empty, with only a few film yearbooks and company articles of association that Chen Xinjian had placed there in advance.

Floor-to-ceiling windows occupy an entire wall, offering a panoramic view of Victoria Harbour, from Sai Wan to North Point.

Lin Dong sat down in the swivel chair. The leather was cool to the touch and carried the distinctive smell of new furniture.

Chen Xinjian stood across from the desk and opened the folder in his hand.

"Mr. Lin, I have preliminary results from the funding audits of the three projects." He turned a page. "I've reviewed the flow of funds in the three special accounts for 'Prince Charming,' 'Love Dream,' and 'Mongkok Street.'"

Are there many problems?

"There are no major problems. But there are a few minor, unreasonable charges."

Chan Yan-kin spoke in a flat tone, as if reporting the weather, "For example, in the 'Prince Charming' project, there was an expenditure of HK$400,000, which was listed as 'preliminary preparation expenses.' I checked the original receipts, but there were no details, only a summary invoice."

Lin Dong tapped his fingers twice on the table.

"Is it related to Wang Jing?"

"Based on the current accounts, there shouldn't be any." Chen Xinjian closed the folder. "This money was transferred from Yong Sheng's account, and the person in charge was a producer from Xiang Yeqiang's side."

Lin Dong nodded. Although Fatty Wang was greasy, he knew how to behave. He wouldn't tamper with such a small part of an investment of thirty million.

"Mr. Chen, I'm leaving this matter to you. You should know what to do."

"Understood." Chen Xinjian bowed slightly. "I will make that producer return the money. As for Xiang Sheng, I will handle it properly and without damaging the relationship."

Lin Dong glanced at him and nodded in satisfaction. Those who should be arrested should be arrested, those who should be released should be released, and those who should be given face should be given face.

"OK."

Chen Xinjian turned and left, closing the door behind him.

The office fell silent. Only the faint sound of ship horns echoed from Victoria Harbour outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, along with the soft hum of the air conditioning vents.

Lin Dong leaned back in his swivel chair and pulled a tea set out of a drawer.

Chen Xinjian had prepared a complete set of items, including a purple clay teapot and white porcelain cups.

He boiled water, pinched a pinch of Pu'er tea and put it into the pot. The hot water poured in, and the color of the tea soup flowed out from the spout of the pot, deep red and bright.

He held his teacup, looked out at Victoria Harbour, and began to think.

Reborn in this era, I possess an incredible system, so money is something I truly don't have to worry about.

A special fund of two billion US dollars, if you lose ten million, you get back one hundred million. The more you lose, the richer your personal account becomes.

But there's a problem here—time.

The money returned by the system will only be credited to your account after the project is completed and box office revenue is settled. From project initiation to release, a film takes at least three or four months, and sometimes up to six months.

What he lacks most right now is time.

He must raise enough cash by June of this year.

This isn't a small amount of money. It's a substantial sum that you can confidently show off.

He also has to respond immediately after something happens.

Donations.

Supplies.

Take as much as you can, donate as much as you can. It's not about seeking fame or reputation; it's about genuinely needing this money to save lives.

If he has money but doesn't do anything with it, then what's the difference between him and a salted fish after his rebirth?

More importantly, this move will leave him with an excellent impression in mainland China.

This isn't the profit-driven arrogance of Hong Kong businessmen, but rather the genuine sincerity of compatriots throwing real money into their aid when they're in trouble. This impression will be his best protection in the future.

But here's the problem—where will the money come from?

It's the end of March now. By mid-June, it's a total of two and a half months.

Filming for "Prince Charming" only started today. Even if Wang Jing works quickly, it will take at least three months from shooting to editing to release. Whether it can be released in mid-June is still unknown, let alone waiting for box office settlement and system refunds.

Needless to say, "Love Dream Ship" is still in preparation by Huang Baiming's team, and it would be considered fast if filming could start next month.

The only thing that could possibly catch up with is "Mongkok Street"—but even if "Mongkok Street" catches up, losing five million and receiving a return of fifty million from the system wouldn't be enough.

Far from enough.

Lin Dong put down his teacup.

If that's not enough, keep investing. Invest in projects that can be filmed, edited, and released quickly. The faster, the better.

Hong Kong has never lacked talent in this area. As long as you invest money, talent will come to you.

Instruct Chen Xinjian to spread the word that Tengda Film Investment Company should continue to accept projects, prioritizing films with short shooting cycles and quick release dates.

Given how fast news spreads in the Hong Kong film industry, his desk would be piled high with scripts in less than three days.

There's another sum of money. It's Li Jiaxin's US stock account.

He takes half of the profits. If there's not enough money, he can clear out the inventory and pocket the profits first, and then make up the difference to her after June.

Does it hurt your heart?

Lin Dong picked up his teacup, took a sip, and looked out the window at Victoria Harbour.

It doesn't hurt at all.

There are so many trends in this era, and countless opportunities to make money.

The dot-com bubble, the Hong Kong stock market rebound, the mainland real estate boom, and the surge in resource stocks—which of these didn't yield tenfold or even a hundredfold returns?

He has a system and memories of his past life, so start-up capital is never a problem for him. Money is just a number to him sooner or later.

What he lacks is the ability to protect this money, and this is a good opportunity.

So this time, he has to take the initiative to find money.

Lin Dong put down his teacup, picked up the landline on the table, and dialed the internal line.

"Mr. Chen, come here for a moment."

Thirty seconds later, Chen Xinjian pushed the door open and came in.

"Lin Sheng".

Lin Dong leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the table. "Spread the word. Tengda will continue to accept projects, prioritizing films with short shooting cycles and quick releases. No budget restrictions, no genre restrictions, the only requirement—speed. The faster the better."

"Understood." Chen Xinjian took out a pen and quickly jotted it down in his notebook without asking why. "Release the news today. Given the current state of the Hong Kong film industry, your desk will be piled high with scripts within three days."

Lin Dong nodded. Chen Xinjian turned to leave, but Lin Dong called him back when he reached the door.

"Mr. Chen".

"Mr. Lin, please speak."

Tell that girl outside—Zhang Baizhi.

"Let her in."