He plays Feng Yuxiu, and his girlfriend is a fairy-like beauty.

The restaurant is located on the top floor of a waterfront building in Tsim Sha Tsui. It specializes in Cantonese private dining, with small private rooms and floor-to-ceiling windows facing Victoria Harbour.

Ye Mo arrived twenty minutes earlier than the agreed time.

I flipped through the menu twice, and finally told the waiter, "Serve tea first, we'll order the dishes when the guests arrive, and the wine—"

He pointed to a name on the wine list.

The waiter's eyebrows twitched, and he confirmed again: "Sir, this is a 2000 Latour."

"right."

"Do you need to sober up?"

"Wake up early, about half an hour earlier."

The waiter nodded and left.

Ye Mo leaned back in his chair, looking out at the sea.

He was silently calculating in his mind—after this meal, his bank account balance would be a fraction less.

Not a fraction, but a whole four.

The Sammo Hung Stunt Team paid 450,000 for the role of Ah Jie.

It sounds like a lot, but in Hong Kong, it's just the price of a minor supporting role.

Sammo Hung didn't pressure him—this is the price for a minor supporting role, and HK$450,000 is already a premium given his recent popularity.

A bottle of Latour costs more than his entire day's salary.

However, we cannot skimp on the money that needs to be spent.

Sammo Hung pushed him into Infernal Affairs without asking for anything in return.

This meal was not just about gathering information, but also about making a statement.

The door opened.

Hong Jinbao walked in, glanced around the private room—floor-to-ceiling windows, the night view of Victoria Harbour, and the wine already awakened on the table—then looked at Ye Mo and the corners of his mouth curved slightly.

"Latour?" He sat down, picked up the bottle, glanced at the vintage, and said, "From 2000. Xiao Ye, how much did you get paid for that?"

"The pay isn't much," Ye Mo said, handing over the menu, "but I can't skimp on treating you to a meal."

"Okay." Hong Jinbao flipped through the menu, glanced at it, and ordered four dishes. He didn't order anything expensive; they were all home-style dishes.

While waiting for the food, Sammo Hung, holding a teacup, casually asked, "Xiao Ye, what are your plans for the future? Have you considered developing your career in Hong Kong?"

Ye Mo was taken aback.

He was well aware of the significance of this invitation.

Hung Kam-po didn't ask casually.

His status in the Hong Kong film industry: the head of the Sammo Hung Stunt Team and a master of action films with a Hong Kong Film Awards Lifetime Achievement Award.

He began by saying, "I'm coming to Hong Kong to develop my career."

This means he will pave the way.

With his connections to Sammo Hung's stunt team, Hong Kong directors, and co-production projects, he can influence more things with a single word than Ye Mo can influence ten film crews.

"Teacher Hong, thank you for thinking so highly of me." Ye Mo put down his teacup, his tone earnest, "but I still want to develop my career in mainland China."

Hong Jinbao's hand, which was holding a teacup, froze in mid-air.

"You don't want to come to Hong Kong?" His tone wasn't angry, but genuinely surprised. "Do you know how many people want me to help them get in touch with Hong Kong? You're the first one to say no to me."

"It's not that I didn't want to come, it's just that the timing wasn't right." Ye Mo turned his teacup halfway around. "The golden age of Hong Kong cinema is over. In the 1990s, there were hundreds of films a year, now there are only a few dozen. The market is shrinking, and funds are flowing out. On the contrary, the mainland—the number of screens is increasing year by year, genre films are just starting out, and the audience's demand for good content is exploding. I started out as an extra in the mainland, so I'm more familiar with the market and the audience there."

Hong Jinbao put down his teacup, and the look in his eyes as he looked at Ye Mo changed.

It wasn't the kind of praise that simply said the young man had ideas; it was something deeper—with a touch of scrutiny and reassessment.

"How old are you? In your early twenties?" He finished his tea. "To put it bluntly, when I was your age, all I could think about was who I was going to fight with tomorrow."

Ye Mo smiled and said, "Compared to the people you fought back then, my skills are just theoretical."

Sammo Hung shook his head: "It's not just theoretical talk. Your opinion is similar to what some old guys who have made a lot of money in co-productions have said." He paused, "But I have a question—it's true that the Hong Kong market is shrinking, but the connections and production experience in the Hong Kong industry are still there. You don't know what you can learn, so you give up on this path."

"It's not about giving up." Ye Mo raised his head. "I feel that there are more opportunities in the mainland. Going to Hong Kong now would mean squeezing into an already established pattern, where the best positions are already taken. By staying in the mainland, I can participate in the establishment of a new pattern."

Hung Kam-pao was silent for two seconds, then tapped the table with his fingers.

"Alright, I won't try to persuade you anymore, but remember to call me if you come to Hong Kong to film in the future."

"must."

The dishes are here.

Typhoon Shelter Crab, Steamed Grouper, Crispy Roast Goose, Garlic Bok Choy.

Hung Kam-po picked up a piece of roast goose with his chopsticks, chewed it twice, and glanced at the bottle of Latour.

The wine has already aerated, its deep ruby ​​red liquid swirling in the glass.

"You must have spent a lot of money on this bottle of wine." Sammo Hung picked it up and glanced at the label again. "It's a 2000 Latour. Even the assistant director didn't bring this to dinner when he treated me."

"The pay is a bit low, but we can't skimp on the drinks." Ye Mo poured him half a glass.

"That role with Ah Jie, it was over four hundred thousand." Sammo Hung swirled his glass. "And you, you treated me to tens of thousands of drinks in one night. Have you even calculated how much of your salary for the role went to that meal?"

Ye Mo remained silent, his heart bleeding.

He remembered the price of that bottle of wine very clearly—when the waiter handed him the wine list, he glanced at the number and almost thought he was seeing things.

HK$26,000, how long did Ah Jie take to film it?

Half a month's salary, and he only ate a lump of meat in one meal.

But he didn't show it on his face at all.

After pouring wine for Sammo Hung, he raised his own glass and clinked it with his.

"Teacher Hong, this bottle of wine isn't for settling accounts. You pushed me through Director Liu's door, and if I wanted to settle this score, I wouldn't be able to."

Hung Kam-po took a sip of wine and put down his glass.

"Okay, if that's how you put it, I won't beat around the bush." ​​He leaned back in his chair. "Are you trying to ask me what Old Liu's intentions are?"

Ye Mo put down his chopsticks.

"Teacher Hong, that's exactly what I wanted to ask."

"Your chances are very high." Sammo Hung's tone was calm, as if he were stating a fact he had already confirmed. "Old Lau is satisfied with your performance. Your smile—I've been in the film industry for fifty years and have seen too many actors. There aren't many who can convey three layers of meaning in a moment without lines. Old Lau has been making movies for so many years, he knows exactly what kind of actors he can use."

"Then why not decide on the spot?"

"Because he wanted to cast a newcomer as the male lead—this decision wasn't something he could make alone; he had to explain it to the investors."

"If a film costs tens of millions to produce, and the male lead is a newcomer from mainland China, would you approve it if you were the investor?"

Sammo Hung spat the roast goose bones into his dish: "But you have one advantage—your salary is low. It's not that he didn't consider using A-list stars, but A-list stars' salaries start at tens of millions, and the entire film's budget would be blown up."

"You're different. Your salary is a fraction of what top-tier actors earn. When investors look at the budget, that's a huge plus."

Ye Mo listened quietly without interrupting.

"What Lao Liu needs to do now is take that audition video of you to a meeting with the investors. He'll tell them—this guy is cheap and suitable. Give me a chance, and I'll give you a lead role." Hong Jinbao finished his drink and gently placed the bottom of his glass on the table. "He won't say these things outside, but you're my recommendation, so I'm telling you because I think you can understand."

Ye Mo remained silent for a few seconds.

"Thank you, Teacher Hong."

"Don't thank me." Sammo Hung picked up another piece of roast goose. "You auditioned on your own. No matter how many times I turned you down, if you couldn't handle it, Old Liu still wouldn't hire you. Look at all the people who came today, like Lau Ching-wan, aren't they all real kung fu masters?"

"Zhang Jiahui is here today too."

"I know." Sammo Hung chewed on a roast goose. "Old Liu originally thought the best for him, but after you auditioned, Old Liu said something to me—he said that Zhang Jiahui was right to play Chen Yongren, but Ye Mo was the real one to play Chen Yongren."

Ye Mo paused for a moment.

The night was deep in Victoria Harbour outside the window, and the lights of Central on the opposite shore were reflected on the sea, shimmering like gold in the waves.

Hong Jinbao put down his chopsticks, stood up, and patted Ye Mo on the shoulder.

"Let's go, wait for news. This meal wasn't a waste." He walked to the door, glanced back at the half-empty bottle of Latour on the table, and said, "The wine is good. Don't buy such expensive wine next time. Let's talk about it when you've added a zero to your paycheck."

......