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

"How much harder are they than Olympiad math problems?"

Seeing her younger brother's alarmed expression, Lin Ying didn't try to appease him; the sooner they recognized the reality of Hong Kong, the better.

"It's extremely difficult. Right now, Hong Kong only has two truly comprehensive universities. Every year, the number of people who can get in is less than a fraction of those who are high school students. The competition is frighteningly fierce, it's no joke."

Lin Qian's face fell instantly. He looked down at the white rice in his bowl and muttered to himself, "Then I'd better not even think about it. I can't even do word problems well, how can I compete with others?"

"But," Lin Ying said confidently, "you're smart."

Lin Qian looked at his eldest sister.

"You're quick-witted than many of your classmates, but you used to spend all your time reading comics and playing around," Lin Ying analyzed. "Your foundation isn't too bad right now. As long as you consistently rank in the top ten of your class in every midterm and final exam, and keep up that momentum, you have a great chance of getting into a university."

Lin Qian's interest was piqued again: "Really? Just being in the top ten of the class is enough? You don't need to be number one?"

"Top ten is the bare minimum." Lin Ying stared at him. "The premise is that you absolutely cannot be weak in any subject. In Hong Kong's education system, English and math are absolute hurdles; you must excel in these two subjects."

Lin Qian immediately patted his chest and said, "Don't worry, sister! I'll start memorizing English words tomorrow! I'll even take my math textbook with me to the bathroom from now on, I won't slack off!"

Sitting next to him, Lin Lanying picked up a piece of roast goose and put it in his bowl: "You better keep your word. Don't wake up tomorrow and find yourself clutching those tattered comic books again. If you don't get into the top ten when school starts, I won't even need your older sister to lift a finger; just wait and see how I deal with you with a clothes hanger."

He Dazhu tried to smooth things over: "It's good that Aqian is ambitious. As long as you and your sister can continue your studies, we, as your parents, will do everything we can to support you."

The meal, eaten cleanly amidst this inexplicable surge of fighting spirit, was a welcome addition to the group.

After dinner, Lin Lanying and Deng Hui washed the dishes in the kitchen, while He Dazhu and his uncle Lin Yaoying helped dry the dining table. The family gradually gathered on the leather sofa in the living room to watch TV.

Lin Ying got up and went back to her bedroom. She opened a drawer, took out several envelopes that had been wrapped in red paper beforehand, and then went back to the living room.

"Grandpa, Grandma," Lin Ying said, walking up to the two elderly people and handing them the two thickest red envelopes. "This is my heartfelt gift; one thousand yuan each. I wish you good health and all the best."

Lin Fu waved his hands repeatedly: "Sister, you've already spent a million on this house! How can your grandparents take your money? You need money for everything while you're studying in St. Paul's; keep it for your tuition."

"Grandpa, my mom has already set aside enough money for your tuition and living expenses." Lin Ying took the old man's hand and stuffed a red envelope into it. "This is a little something from your granddaughter to show my respect to you. You usually can't bear to eat meat in the New Territories, so take this money to buy something nice to eat or go to a teahouse for a drink. I can earn money now, and I'll earn even more in the future, so this little bit of money is nothing."

Li Yuzhen touched the thick red paper package, her eyes reddening, and patted Lin Ying: "Okay, okay, Grandma will keep it. Grandma won't spend it recklessly. Grandma will go to the bank to open an account for you to save it, so that it can be used as a dowry for our younger sister in the future."

Lin Ying did not refute the old man's simple and honest thoughts. She took out three more red envelopes and handed them to her uncle Lin Yaoying, aunt Deng Hui, who were sitting next to her, and her cousin Lin Yue, who was leaning against her mother.

"Uncle, Aunt, and Xiaoyue," Lin Ying said with a smile, handing them over. "I was planning to take you to the department store today after we move and give each of you a new outfit. But I have to catch up on my homework and new script these days, so I really don't have time to go shopping. Here are a few red envelopes, five hundred yuan each. Share in my joy from buying a new house and go pick out the clothes you like."

Lin Yaoying was startled and quickly stood up, pushing the red envelope back: "Aying, how can this be! It's fine if your grandparents accept it, but your uncle works as a hairdresser in Mong Kok and earns a good amount of money every month. How can an uncle take money from his niece! Keep it for yourself!"

"Uncle." Lin Ying stuffed the red envelopes directly into Lin Yue's pocket, and then gave two more to Deng Hui. "Xiao Yue will be going back to school in two months, and she needs to buy new stationery and a new dress. Auntie has just recovered from her illness, so she should also get some nice clothes. Don't be shy with me."

Deng Hui held the red envelope and said, "Aying, thank you so much. I'll keep this money for Yueyue for now. When she grows up, I'll definitely teach her to be filial to you, her older sister."

The old man watched as his granddaughter took good care of everyone in the family and nodded with satisfaction: "Alright, Ah Mei is a grown woman now. She knows what she's doing and can manage half the household. Yao Ying, Ah Hui, just accept what the children have given you. If Ah Ying ever needs any help in the future, you, as her elders, should lend a hand."

After the head of the family spoke, Lin Yaoying sat down and carefully put the money away.

For the next few days, this thousand-square-foot mansion on the fifteenth floor of Taikoo Shing became Lin Ying's retreat.

The summer homework assigned by the fifth graders at St. Paul's was no challenge for her at all; in less than five days, she finished a thick stack of exercise books and English reading reports, neatly stacking them in the upper left corner of her large Western-style desk.

After that, she stared blankly at the blank manuscript paper spread out in front of her.

After earning 1.74 million, what should I do next?

The success of "Die in the Light" proved to her the exorbitant profits of the Hong Kong film market in the 1980s. Having tasted success, she naturally wanted to continue. But what to write?

Should I continue writing this kind of horror-comedy-action film, or write a sequel to "Die in the Light"? Or should I completely switch to a new direction?

Lin Ying twirled a pencil in her hand, her eyes fixed on the bustling middle-class neighborhood outside the window, her mind racing as she calculated the market situation.

Following trends is a quick way to make money, but it's also a quick way to fail.

Hong Kong's film market appears booming, but its actual capacity is very limited. With only a few million local residents and a fixed following in Southeast Asia, audiences' interest in new films comes and goes quickly. Once the same formula is repeatedly used, the first to do it can make a fortune, while those who follow suit will only lose everything.

After thinking for a long time, she decided that she couldn't just rely on guesswork; she had to get a firsthand look at the market.

Lin Ying walked out of her room into the living room, picked up the microphone, and dialed the number of the film set where Director Zou was located, relying on her memory.

The phone rang twice before someone grabbed it.

"Feed? Who is it? Hurry up and tell me!" Director Zou's voice was tired, and the background noise was terrible.

"Director Zou, it's me, Lin Ying."

"Hey, screenwriter Lin!" Director Zou's voice instantly perked up, then faded into the background. "What brings you here to call me? Are you settling into your new house?"

"That's great, thank you for your concern, Director Zou." Lin Ying got straight to the point, "I called today to ask you what the current hot topics in the Hong Kong film industry are like?"

Director Zou sighed on the other end of the phone: "They've completely gone mad! Right now, the hottest trend is zombies combined with action and comedy!"

Director Zou complained helplessly, "Ever since people outside saw that our film 'Death by Light' made tens of millions at the box office with a small investment, the bosses and directors behind it have all become envious and are all raising money to make this one."

"I've made some inquiries privately. Right now, all the film studios, big and small, in Kowloon and the New Territories are filled with zombies dressed in Qing Dynasty official robes jumping around. To grab the release slots around September and the Lunar New Year, two small companies are even working overnight to produce films that are so shoddy they're unwatchable. There are at least eight more similar films slated for release!"

Lin Ying exclaimed, "Eight parts? That's so many!"

"Yes! Everyone's envious, everyone wants to make a quick buck," Director Zou sighed. "Audiences do love this now, but with eight or nine similar films crammed into those few months, everyone's competing head-to-head, and the box office will definitely be severely fragmented. We'll all die together."

"I understand." Lin Ying's prediction was completely correct. "Thank you, Director Zou. Please go ahead with your work. I'll treat you to tea another day."

"Okay, feel free to contact me anytime if you have any new ideas. We'll need your pen to pull off a big hit for our next film!" Director Zou hung up the phone readily.

Lin Ying put down the microphone. Sure enough, the bandwagon effect was severe.

If I were to follow the same path and write another zombie movie now, even with a solid script, it would likely be lost among five or six poorly made, homogenous pieces of garbage, ruining my reputation.

Following trends is a recipe for disaster! We must innovate, we must change our subject matter immediately!

Without hesitation, she picked up the phone again and dialed Su Zhihao's number.

The phone rang for a long time before it was answered.

"Hello, who is this?" Su Zhihao's loud voice came through.

"Second Uncle, it's me."

"Ah Ying!" Upon hearing Lin Ying's voice, Su Zhihao's tone changed completely. "Why are you calling at this hour? Is there any progress on the script?"

"Second Uncle, I just asked Director Zou." Lin Ying first told Su Zhihao the information she had received. "The current hot topics are all about zombies and action comedies. There's a serious trend of copycat films on set, and at least eight or nine similar films are waiting to be released."

"So what?" Su Zhihao asked, speaking from a business perspective.

"Therefore, we absolutely cannot use this subject matter," Lin Ying concluded. "If we want to make another film, we must completely overturn it and use a completely new subject matter."

After a long while, Su Zhihao's voice came through again.

"A new topic?" Su Zhihao asked warily. "Aying, don't talk too much on the phone. The phone line might not be clean."

He immediately found an excuse: "Perfect timing. Su Jun and Su Cheng, those two good-for-nothings, have a day off today and have been nagging me to go see your new 1,000-square-foot apartment in Taikoo Shing. We'll drive over now, and whatever it is, we can go inside and talk behind closed doors."

Lin Ying understood. This triad boss who had fought his way out of Kowloon Walled City had undergone a transformation after experiencing the high-stakes gamble of "Death by Light" and personally receiving a share of the net profit of eight or nine million.

Su Zhihao is now a shrewd film investor.

He knew all too well that in Hong Kong's entertainment industry, where following trends was rampant, the commercial value of a new script that could open up a new chapter was a trade secret.

"Okay, Second Uncle." Lin Ying readily agreed, "I'll wait for you at home."

"I'll be there in half an hour," Su Zhihao said, and then hung up the phone.

Lin Ying put down the microphone and turned to look at Lin Qian, who was lying on the living room carpet, flipping through an English textbook.

"Qian, stop looking at it. Put your textbooks away." Lin Ying walked to the coffee table and began to tidy up her things.

Lin Qian immediately closed the book: "Sister, aren't you going to memorize it anymore?"

"Go tidy up the guest room a bit, and while you're at it, go to the kitchen and slice some apples and plate them. Uncle Su is coming over soon with Su Cheng and Su Jun."

Upon hearing this, Lin Qian immediately sprang into action: "Second Uncle Su? That movie boss?"

"Yes." Lin Ying nodded.

Lin Qian dashed into the kitchen, skillfully brought out a fruit platter, and began washing and chopping.

Lin Ying then turned and walked back to the master bedroom, opened a drawer, took out a stack of blank manuscript paper, and picked out two fountain pens, placing them in the center of the large coffee table in the living room.