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

Zhou Yawen sat on the leather sofa, staring at the stack of episode outlines for "Night Taboo" on the coffee table, and remained silent for a long time.

After a long while, Zhou Yawen finally let out a long sigh.

"Forget it." She put down her water glass. "The business world is like a battlefield. If you don't read the contract carefully before signing, there's no use crying afterward. It's in black and white, stamped with the seal. 130,000 is 130,000. You can't blame anyone else."

Lin Ying nodded: "The fact that the teacher can think this way shows that she is more clear-headed than many others."

"What's the use of being sober?" Zhou Yawen gave a bitter smile. "I'm now sober enough to know that I sold it too cheaply. But I'll learn a lesson this time. I absolutely can't be so casual when selling copyrights in the future. I have to explain everything to them one by one, including TV adaptation rights, videotape distribution, sequels, and rebroadcasts."

Lin Ying picked up her teacup and took a sip of water: "How can a teacher remember so many details when grading homework and preparing lessons?"

Zhou Yawen smiled and said, "Do you think I'm an English teacher for nothing? It's not that I don't know how to learn; I just had no idea there was so much to it before. Now that I do, I'm not going to make the same mistake twice."

Lin Ying continued to help her teacher figure things out: "Since that's the case, let's not dwell on the parts of 'Night Taboo' that have already been sold in black and white. But contracts are just contracts, people are flexible. There are still a few things we can get from Second Uncle later."

Zhou Yawen also wanted to hear her student's opinion: "You speak."

"First, attribution. When the TV series airs, the original author must be clearly credited in the opening and closing credits. You can use your pen name 'Night Returner' without revealing your real name, but the name is essential. With this name, your future books will be easier to sell at a higher price."

Zhou Yawen nodded: "It's written in the contract."

"Secondly, the screenwriting consultant fee," Lin Ying continued. "Just because the original work can be adapted doesn't mean anyone can adapt it well. If Uncle Su wants to make this suspense drama a success, he needs your help as the original author to oversee the characters' motivations, the logic of the cases, and the suspenseful plot points. This effort shouldn't be wasted; it's not included in the 130,000 yuan. You can ask for a separate fee."

"Third, regarding the priority rights for sequels and other works in the same series, although you have given him the right of first refusal, this does not mean it's free. If there are any follow-up works in the future, he can only get them under the same price; if someone else offers 300,000, he must pay 300,000."

"Yes," Zhou Yawen said immediately. "The agent specifically reminded me of this clause when we signed the contract."

"Fourth," Lin Ying asked curiously, "other works. Teacher, how many books do you actually have?"

Zhou Yawen considered whether to tell the eleven-year-old student the truth, but then decided there was no need to hide it: "There are about seven or eight books, including those that have been published and those that haven't been published yet."

Lin Ying was stunned. Seven or eight books? That's quite a lot of stock. They could make a lot of money just by selling the copyrights.

Zhou Yawen shifted slightly, feeling uncomfortable under Lin Ying's gaze. "What kind of look is that?"

"Teacher," Lin Ying said earnestly, "please, in the future, never show your manuscript to others casually."

Zhou Yawen spoke frankly: "I'm not stupid."

"Selling such a good book for 130,000 this time is already considered a foolish move in the film and television industry," Lin Ying bluntly pointed out.

Zhou Yawen was momentarily speechless, unable to utter a word for a long time.

Lin Ying naturally changed the subject: "But teacher reacted quickly, one mistake is enough. With a lawyer overseeing things from now on, no one can cheat you."

Zhou Yawen was amused by her mature demeanor;

"It makes me so angry just thinking about it." Zhou Yawen pointed to the thick books on the coffee table. "Do you know how hard it was for me to write these hundreds of thousands of words?"

Lin Ying shook her head.

"During the day, I teach classes, enforce discipline, and supervise morning reading. The English essays in your class are so terrible they make me dizzy! After I finish grading them, I have to sit at my desk, close my eyes, and rest for ten minutes to catch my breath."

Lin Ying recalled Tang Xueqi's essay from last week, in which she misspelled "my dream" as "my sleep," and didn't respond.

Zhou Yawen became increasingly heartbroken as she spoke: "After I finish grading all your horrific assignments and preparing my lesson plans, I can only sit down to start writing my novel around 10 PM after showering at home. It's all handwritten! A fountain pen, a notebook of manuscript paper, enduring page after page. If I make a mistake, I have to cross it out; if I change a foreshadowing, I have to rewrite three pages. Before sending it to the newspaper, I have to rewrite the final draft neatly again!"

She even started to pity herself: "I often write until 2 a.m., and then have to get up at 7 a.m. the next day to rush to Paotaishan and stand on the podium watching you all memorize vocabulary. In the end, all the hard work I put in, which resulted in a few gray hairs, was taken away by that unscrupulous businessman Su Zhihao for 130,000 yuan!"

Lin Ying almost lost her composure and immediately bit down on her lips, which were about to curl upwards.

Zhou Yawen glared at her with sharp eyes: "Are you laughing?"

"no."

"What's with that expression?"

"Teacher, you're mistaken. It's a lighting issue."

Zhou Yawen snorted coldly: "You smart students are the most annoying! You even try to scheme against my grades during exams!"

After she finished speaking, she turned her head away and sulked; her gaze inadvertently fell on the half-open door of the room next to the living room.

The study door wasn't closed properly. From Zhou Yawen's perspective, she could clearly see a large wooden desk with a heavy computer monitor on it, next to which stood a printer, a floppy disk case, and a neat stack of thick blank printing paper.

Zhou Yawen stood up and unconsciously walked to the door of the study, staring intently at the machine as if it were some rare and precious object.

"Is this your computer?"

"Okay." Lin Ying followed.

"Can you type Chinese?"

"able."

"Is that a printer over there? It can print directly?"

"able."

Zhou Yawen turned to look at her: "Is this the one you usually use when writing those scripts?"

Lin Ying nodded: "Yes. I use it for writing outlines and novels now. It's very convenient for editing manuscripts. If I make a typo, I can just press the delete key and I don't have to rewrite the whole page. If I need to rearrange paragraphs, I can just cut and paste. After organizing the relationships between characters, I can press enter and print out a neat paper manuscript."

Zhou Yawen's expression turned even more unpleasant. She walked in, gently touched the plastic casing of the printer, and glanced at the spare high-grade ribbon next to it.

"How much would it cost to get the whole set?"

Lin Ying told the truth: "All of it cost HK$65,000."

Zhou Yawen closed her eyes.

Lin Ying then earnestly explained: "This price includes the main unit, color monitor, genuine Chinese word processing software, printer, and one year of on-site maintenance and spare consumables."

Zhou Yawen raised her hand to cover her chest: "Don't explain in such detail, it makes me feel even worse."

She stood in front of the computer for a while, then said through gritted teeth, "I write my books by hand, and after grading all your horrific assignments, I have to take a break before I can start writing again!"

Lin Ying thought for a moment and made a conservative suggestion: "If the teacher just finds copying manuscripts too tiring, they can find an outside typing service to help them."

"The typing service charges a fee," Zhou Yawen immediately refused. "Besides, my manuscripts absolutely cannot be shown to outsiders. What if someone steals the plot points of my suspense novel before I've finished writing the series of cases? Who am I supposed to complain to then?"