Soul Returns to Hong Kong: From Tailor Shop to Richest Woman

"Making a movie?"

"Yes, that's right." Su Zhihao picked up the half crab again. "These days, Hong Kong cinemas are packed every day. Martial arts films and comedies—as long as they can be made, just find a cinema in Tsim Sha Tsui and schedule a midnight screening, and that's pure cash!"

He grew increasingly agitated, slamming his chopsticks on the table: "But after I got in here, I realized this industry is even more murky than Kowloon Walled City! Cinematographers demand kickbacks, directors are constantly asking for more explosions and special effects. The scripts are utter garbage, yet they dare to keep pressuring me for payment! It's not like the money I invested came from underground!"

Lin Ying sat there quietly, took a sip of soup, and as the warm soup slid into her stomach, she instantly understood where to go next.

In the early 1980s, the Hong Kong film market was on the eve of an era of unbridled growth and high box office returns.

In today's market, old-fashioned kung fu movies have caused audience fatigue; while the supernatural zombie movies, urban slapstick comedies, and classic police and gangster gunfight movies that became popular in later years are either very rare now, or no one has made them yet!

A script requires only paper and pen. Zero cost—this is the only legal and quick way for Lin Ying, at her current age of nine, to monetize her talent without age restrictions!

Lin Ying looked at Su Zhihao and casually asked, "Second Uncle, since the script is so bad, how much does it cost to buy a new one these days?"

"How much?" Su Zhihao sneered. "Those self-proclaimed literary talents who wrote columns for newspapers just throw over a few pages and ask for a starting price of ten thousand yuan! If they want someone more famous, it's twenty or thirty thousand or more! And when it turns out, the audience in the theater is mostly asleep. What a bunch of flops!"

Ten thousand yuan!

My dad used to work day and night as a carpenter, and he only made seven or eight hundred yuan a month. The tuition at São Paulo is twelve thousand a year! And that ridiculously expensive computer literacy course is a thousand yuan a year!

"Second Uncle." Lin Ying neatly folded the oil-soaked tissue into a small square and placed it under the bone plate. "You guys collect scripts. If you really have a good script ready-made, dare to try a different approach?"

Su Zhihao was taken aback: "What do you mean? How do I play?"

"You said the production team was wasting money because you're afraid of losing it all. But what if there was a really good script that not only would you not have to pay that 10,000 yuan deposit upfront, but it would also save you the trouble of blindly searching for something?" Lin Ying coaxed.

Su Jun, who was eating a chicken leg next to her, heard this and said, "Lin Ying, are you crazy? You're doing business with the Kowloon City underworld?"

Lin Ying ignored him and continued, "Second Uncle, I have several excellent script ideas. They're absolutely unique in the current market. I can write them for you to film. I won't ask for a single penny in deposit or buyout fee."

Su Zhihao found it amusing and looked Lin Ying up and down suspiciously.

"Are you crazy for money, you little brat?" Su Zhihao sneered. "You're a nine-year-old girl attending a private elementary school. Have you even learned all the characters? You're not even fully grown yet, and you're telling me you know how to write a screenplay? Do you even know how many frames of film are used per second in a movie?"

"I know, 24 frames per second," Lin Ying said without hesitation. "What are people looking for in movies? Novelty. Audiences are already tired of the same old martial arts films. What if there was a movie that combined Taoist magic, folk taboos about ghosts, and kung fu comedy all together? Wouldn't that be fresh and appealing to the audience?"

Upon hearing these words, Su Zhihao's smile vanished.

He was a江湖 (jianghu, a term referring to the world of martial arts and江湖义气, a code of honor among江湖人士) who believed in ghosts, gods, and feng shui; this combination sounded promising even to him. But how could he possibly trust a nine-year-old child so easily?

"Even if you have a good idea, and you don't want a deposit," Su Zhihao asked, "how do you plan to make money off me?"

"I want a share of the profits," Lin Ying said. "I'll write the script. Once the film is made and released in theaters, I want 10 percent of the box office revenue."

"Holy crap!" Su Jun dropped the chicken bone on the table. "Ten percent? Are you robbing a bank?!"

Su Zhihao's eyes darkened as he quickly calculated in his mind. Forgoing the 10,000 yuan buyout fee would save the production team a considerable amount of cash; however, demanding a share of the profits indicated that Lin Ying had great confidence in the script. If the film didn't sell well, Su Zhihao would only have wasted a few stacks of paper; if it became a hit, he could still make a fortune by selling 10% of the profits, and he wouldn't lose out.

The problem is that this is too outrageous.

"Second Uncle, there's no need to jump to conclusions." Lin Ying offered a condition: "When I come to tutor Su Jun again next Sunday, I'll bring the detailed script for the first five scenes and the entire character outline. You're a businessman; whether he's worthless or a cash cow, you'll know at a glance. If not, just pretend I'm dreaming; if not, we'll talk about the rest."

Su Zhihao stared at Lin Ying for two seconds.

"Okay." Su Zhihao grabbed the car keys from the table. "Next Sunday, I'll be waiting to see your masterpiece. If you try to fool me with a few pages of elementary school writing, I'll kick you out of Causeway Bay!"

After saying that, Su Zhihao didn't even finish his meal. He left for the film set with an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth.

The door slammed shut.

Lin Ying and Su Jun were left in the restaurant, along with Maria, the Filipino maid who was washing dishes in the kitchen.

Lin Ying sat in the chair, and the anxiety about making money that had been weighing on her heart for months finally found an outlet.

Now that I have confidence, my attitude has changed.

"Are you full?" Lin Ying asked Su Jun.

Su Jun felt uneasy under their gaze and stammered, "I...I'm full. You...you shouldn't look at me like that, it's making me a little nervous."

"Go back to the living room when you're full!" Lin Ying patted the table and stood up. "We finished the second-grade multiplication and division logic lesson this morning. This afternoon, we'll go through all the word problems for all subjects in the third grade. Quick! Go get some scratch paper!"

Lin Ying's suddenly loud tone and urging made Su Jun's face turn bitter.

"Why is the speed difference added together in this pursuit problem? Did I explain that this morning?"

"What's the answer? Choose C! The relative clause in the preceding sentence is missing a subject; can't you see such an obvious grammatical flaw?"

Lin Yingyu scribbled loudly on the draft paper with a red pen while complaining, not even having time to drink water.

Su Jun slumped on the sofa, rubbing his head.

"Stop!!" Su Jun yelled, throwing down his pencil and scratching his head. "Big sister, can I call you big sister?! I'm not some kind of crazy genius like you, my brain's about to explode! I want to sleep! I want a truce!"

Lin Ying stopped writing with her red pen: "Uncle Su gave you a hundred yuan for tutoring. If you go to sleep now, you're just wasting your father's money."

"I don't care about his money!" Su Jun reached into his pocket.

He pulled out three ten-yuan bills, slammed them in the middle of the coffee table, pointed at the stack of money, and shouted, "Thirty yuan! I'll pay for it myself! This is my way of buying my own lunch break!"

Lin Ying raised an eyebrow as she looked at the three newly issued ten-dollar Hong Kong dollars.

She reached out her hand.

Before Su Jun could react, Lin Ying had already stuffed the money into the innermost zipper of his backpack.

"You..." Su Jun stared wide-eyed.

"Your dad gives you so much pocket money every month, and someone like you who only knows how to buy comic books doesn't understand how to spend it at all." Lin Ying zipped up her backpack. "As your tutor, I not only need to tutor your brain, but also cultivate your correct view of money. I'll spend this money for you."

She raised her wrist and glanced at the clock: "It's one o'clock now; this thirty yuan will buy you an hour and a half of sleep."

"Yay!" Upon hearing that he could sleep, Su Jun forgot all about the money and immediately rushed to his bedroom. "Wake me up when it's time!"