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

After hanging up the phone, Lin Ying put the receiver back in its place and looked up at Lin Lanying, who was carrying washed fruit out of the kitchen.

"Mommy, Boss Peng is coming."

Lin Lanying placed the fruit plate on the coffee table: "You said on the phone that the script was finished? He came to pick it up himself?"

"Yes, he wouldn't trust someone like me with a deal worth tens of millions. He'd definitely come in person." Lin Ying walked to the coffee table and placed the two documents stamped with the law firm's red seal, along with the thick paper bag, neatly in the center.

Taikoo Shing is not far from Central, so Mr. Peng arrived very quickly.

Forty minutes after the phone call ended, the doorbell rang on the fifteenth floor.

Lin Lanying went to open the door; outside, Boss Peng was wearing a dark blue suit today, and following him in was a man wearing gold-rimmed glasses, carrying a briefcase, and dressed in a black suit.

"Mrs. Lin, I'm sorry to bother you." Boss Peng nodded with a smile.

"Boss Peng, you're too kind. Please come in." Lin Lanying ushered them into the living room. "Aying just finished writing and is organizing her manuscript."

Boss Peng walked into the living room, followed closely by his lawyer. He paused for a moment as he was about to sit down on the sofa, his gaze sweeping over the coffee table.

In the center of the solid wood coffee table was a sealed thick paper bag, with the "Copyright Time Certificate Memorandum" and the "Confidentiality and Script Receipt Confirmation" on top of it, and the bright red law firm seal was very conspicuous.

Boss Peng raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Lin Ying sitting opposite him.

"Ms. Lin," the man behind Boss Peng spoke up, "I am Mr. Peng's legal counsel, my surname is Chen."

Lin Yingchong nodded to him: "Hello, Attorney Chen; the script and documents are on the table, you can take a look at the terms first."

Mr. Peng sat down on the single sofa, not immediately touching the paper bag. Looking at the two documents, one in traditional Chinese characters and the other in English, he suddenly laughed out loud.

"Even a child can learn to make money instantly," Boss Peng said, looking at Lin Ying. "That night I only gave a slight hint, and today you even have official documents and confidentiality agreements on the table. Screenwriter Lin, you're really quick."

Lin Ying knew that Boss Peng was pointing out her defensive tactics, so she didn't continue the conversation to avoid hurting their relationship.

She looked at Boss Peng and replied with a smile, "I just don't want to slow down our money-making progress; after all, if I'm faster here, your machine will start up faster too. Since we're all aiming to expand the business, let's establish the rules first, so we won't waste time and effort making money from foreigners due to disputes later."

Upon hearing this, Mr. Peng said, "Well said! The worst thing about making foreign exchange is having trouble at home. Attorney Chen, please take a look at the agreement."

Attorney Chen immediately stepped forward, picked up the two documents on the table, and read them word by word.

After seven or eight minutes, Attorney Chen leaned close to Mr. Peng's ear and whispered, "Mr. Peng, this is a standard and stringent agreement. The first part locks in the script's creation timeline and copyright ownership; the second part confirms acceptance. Once this is signed, not a single piece of the script can fall into the hands of outsiders before the formal investment contract is signed."

Boss Peng looked at Lin Ying again, the nonchalance in his eyes gone.

"Sign." Boss Peng pulled a pen from his inner pocket, uncapped it, and said, "Once you've signed, let's get started immediately."

Attorney Chen spread out the documents, and Boss Peng quickly signed his name: Peng Xuebin. Attorney Chen, as a witness, also signed and wrote down Boss Peng's company information. There were two copies, and Lin Lanying stepped forward and carefully put away the copy belonging to Lin Ying.

At this moment, Boss Peng reached out and took the brown paper bag. He didn't tear it open to read the whole thing on the spot, but only pulled out the first few pages of character biographies and the world-building outline to look through.

"Sword cultivator... Western magic wand malfunctions... Talisman array in the castle..." Boss Peng read aloud as he looked at the artifact.

Even as a businessman, he immediately recognized the selling point of this blend of Eastern and Western elements.

"Boss Peng," Lin Ying called out.

Boss Peng raised his head: "Speak."

"The heart and soul of this script lies entirely in the clash between the two cultivation systems of the East and the West." Lin Ying repeatedly and earnestly instructed, "The core plot points, especially the logic of the Eastern formation used by the protagonist to break the deadlock at the end, and the psychological transformation of the Western supporting characters from arrogance to being defeated, must not be changed arbitrarily. If, in order to cater to foreigners, the protagonist's core is forcibly softened, or it becomes a play about a bunch of people wearing robes fighting a chaotic Western battle, then this script will be unreadable."

This is Lin Ying's bottom line. In her previous life, she had seen too many bad movies that had been distorted and ruined. She would not allow the hard work she had put into her writing to be wasted.

After listening, Boss Peng closed the manuscript. He resealed the paper bag and patted the cover.

"Change it?" Boss Peng looked at Lin Ying. "I spent tens of millions of real money on this project, just to use your script to grab the attention of foreigners. The director I hired, I won't allow him to make his own decisions; he can only make minor adjustments to camera angles and dialogue. If he dares to touch the core elements, I'll fire him!"

"As expected of Boss Peng," Lin Ying casually remarked.

"Alright, I've got the stuff. I need to arrange for someone to translate it, do the storyboard estimation, and then fly to London to scout locations." Boss Peng stood up and handed the paper bag to the lawyer behind him. "Screenwriter Lin, in a few days, after I've finalized the formal investment contract and profit-sharing terms, I'll have Attorney Chen directly liaise with your Attorney Shen."

"Take care, Mr. Peng." Lin Lanying quickly got up to see the guest off.

Mr. Peng and his lawyer arrived and left very quickly.

With the front door closed, the living room returned to its usual quiet.

Lin Lanying walked back and sighed, "Ah Ying, if you hadn't decisively spent that eight thousand yuan to hire Attorney Shen, you probably wouldn't have been able to handle this huge storm with just your words."

"Understanding the law is essential to establishing yourself in the business world, Mommy." Lin Ying stood up and stretched her neck. "Alright, we've given the foreigners their show; it's time to get back to work."

Lin Ying walked to the wall and glanced at the date on the calendar. She circled the box for "September 1st".

There are 28 days left until the start of the fifth grade in São Paulo.

With sixth-grade coursework starting soon, I won't have much free time. I also need to finish my Hong Kong-based project, "The Gambling King," before the new semester begins.

"Qian, Yueyue, keep doing your homework; I'm going back to my room, don't knock unless it's urgent."

Lin Ying turned and went into the study, where she spread out two dozen new blank manuscript papers.

Compared to international scripts like "The Exchange Student at the Magic Academy," which require building a vast worldview and navigating cultural and logical dead ends, "The Gambling King" was much easier for Lin Ying to write.

The scenes on the streets of Hong Kong, the chaos of the Walled City and underground gambling dens, coupled with the behavior of the lower class at the card table, were readily available material for this era. Writing about them didn't require creating something out of thin air; just pick out suitable scenes and amplify the conflicts.

On the first day, Lin Ying spent only two hours to sort out the entire outline of the protagonist's journey from a dock laborer to someone forced to sit at a gambling table due to his brother's betrayal.

On the third day, I wrote the main event of the middle stage. How the eight swindlers set up their scheme, how the chips were exchanged right under our noses, and even the methods used by the casino owner, were all clearly written down in dialogue.

In the living room outside, life went on as usual. Grandma Li Yuzhen would try different ways to make soup for Lin Ying, using free-range chickens from the New Territories and ginseng.

Lin Yaoying and Deng Hui would come over every two days with some things, flipping through Lin Yue's error notebook, which now had fewer red crosses, and they would be happy for most of the day. Under this trend, Lin Qian actually finished most of his fourth-grade first-semester math preview.

Time flies.

On the evening of the ninth day.

Lin Ying sat at her desk, continuing to write: The protagonist pushes down the chips in front of him at the gambling table, reveals the last card, and forces the casino tycoon into a corner. The camera zooms out; the rules remain the same, but the dealer has changed.

The End.

Lin Ying stopped writing and rubbed her right wrist.

In less than ten days, the outline and main text, totaling over 100,000 words, were completed. Writing went very smoothly; this story, once made into a film, would be a money-making opportunity tailor-made for Hong Kong cinemas.

The next morning, Lin Ying went to the apartment across the hall to finalize the copyright registration certificate for "The Gambling King of the Jianghu" with Shen Yanwen.

At three o'clock in the afternoon, Lin Ying washed her hands, dried them with a towel, and went straight to the telephone in the living room.

Dial the Su family's phone number.

The phone rang only three times before Su Zhihao's voice came through: "Hello! Who is this?"

"Second Uncle, it's me."

Su Zhihao raised his voice a bit on the other end of the phone: "Aying?! Why are you calling at this hour? Is there news from Boss Peng's foreigners?"

"It's our 'The Gambling King of the Underworld.' I've finished writing the script."