OBS Chapter 83: Is Making Movies Profitable?
Chapter 83: Is Making Movies Profitable?
Chapter 83: Is Making Movies Profitable?
"The Luo family?"
Qin Han stared directly at the greasy-mouthed Chaozhou bigwig opposite him: "Brother Hao, your statement is rather imprecise."
"Now that these stocks are in my hands, Qin Han's goods are Qin Han's goods. What they were previously owned has nothing to do with our business."
Limpy Ho stopped chewing, chuckled as if he'd heard some lame joke: "Your stuff? Kid, let's not beat around the bush. You, a moviemaker, can come up with stocks worth millions?"
But he was too lazy to dwell on the issue for too long. As long as the stocks were real and could help him launder his money with Godber, he didn't care what their name was.
"Fine, even if this thing is yours."
"But if you're doing business with me, you have to let me know exactly where the money is going. Don't tell me you're using millions in cash to build up the Hong Kong film industry."
This is both a test and a precaution.
Although I know that this kid is backed by the Luo family, if the reason for asking for money is too outrageous, it means that I am likely to be used as a chamber pot and then thrown away.
At that time, the Luo family might not remember the good they did for them.
Qin Han hesitated for a long time before slowly saying, "Brother Hao, there's an old Chinese saying: 'The dragon has nine sons, each different from the other.'"
He dipped his finger in the tea and drew a sun on the table: "The young masters of large families are like a litter of dragons. Some are born with the destiny to soar through the clouds and will inherit the throne and bring glory to their family."
He then drew an inconspicuous little dot next to the sun: "But some are born only to roll around in the mud. Besides causing trouble, they're always finding ways to squander money."
"If the Dragon King of the family finds out, this creature crawling in the mud will probably be skinned alive."
Limpy Ho stared at the two completely different circles on the table and burst into wild laughter: "Hahahaha! What a wonderful saying, 'The dragon has nine sons, each different from the other!'"
As a self-made hero who rose from humble beginnings, what he couldn't stand the most was Luo Decheng's arrogant and condescending attitude, spouting nothing but benevolence and morality.
Normally, when that young master Luo saw him, he always acted indifferent.
It seems that this so-called prestigious family hasn't cleaned up their mess at all!
Although Qin Han didn't name names, the meaning of his words couldn't be clearer—Luo Dehao, the good-for-nothing second son of the Luo family, had gotten into trouble.
Moreover, he had caused a huge disaster and dared not let his wife, the "Old Dragon King" Luo Wenhui, know.
Therefore, the arrogant young master Luo had no choice but to swallow his pride and ask him, the underworld boss, to clean up his mess.
"I'd heard long ago that the second son of the Luo family was a good-for-nothing who only knew how to play around with women, but I never expected this—"
He excitedly grabbed a chicken leg and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing loudly as if he were chewing Luo Decheng's leg: "Tsk tsk tsk, he's definitely a brother. To help his younger brother fill the hole, he's even willing to sell this sure-fire stock at a discount."
"Sibling love! It moved even a rough person like me to tears!"
Although he said that, his face was full of schadenfreude.
Since it's "lifesaving money" to fill the hole, this deal must be fine. Young Master Luo is trying to help his good-for-nothing brother settle his debts.
Looking at the other person's smug expression, as if he had seen through everything, Qin Han timely revealed a kind of "you know what I mean" helplessness.
"Brother Hao, some things are better left unsaid; saying them aloud would ruin the point."
He picked up his teacup, took a small sip, and said, "As the eldest brother, he's like a father to everyone. Who doesn't have things to worry about?"
"However, I must emphasize again that these tickets are now in my, Qin Han's, hands, so they are mine. This deal is solely between me and you, Brother Hao, and has absolutely nothing to do with the Luo family."
"You understand, right?"
Limpy Ho finally stopped being wary of the kid in front of him, and his eyes revealed a look of appreciation.
He knows the rules, keeps his mouth shut, is brave, and is also a good fighter. He's someone who suits my temperament!
"I understand! Of course I understand!" Limpy Ho grabbed the wine bottle on the table and poured himself a full glass. "Brother Qin, just based on your meticulous approach to things, you're worth being friends with!"
"Come on! Eat up! This suckling pig is fresh out of the oven, crispy skin and tender meat!" He personally tore off a pig's hind leg with his hands and had his bodyguard bring it to Qin Han. "After you've eaten and drunk your fill, let's go get the money!"
"Six million three hundred thousand in cash, not a penny less, all prepared for you!"
After lunch, Qin Han rode in Limpy Hao's Mercedes to his manor.
Throughout the journey, the carriage curtains were drawn tightly shut, preventing any view of the outside scenery.
Unlike the Luo family's villa, this one exudes a nouveau riche luxury.
Golden railings, huge white marble lions, and a large fountain in the courtyard that's neither Chinese nor Western in style.
He followed Limpy Ho out of the car and, surrounded by seven or eight bodyguards, entered the villa's basement.
The heavy iron door was slowly pushed open, and a strong smell of ink wafted out.
Although he was mentally prepared, Qin Han still sighed when he saw the scene before him.
money.
Money is everywhere.
Like piles of garbage, scattered in bundles on the corners and shelves.
Some banknotes have become moldy due to dampness, growing green mold; some have been chewed to pieces by rats; and some have stuck together because they have been piled up for too long, turning into "money bricks".
Several henchmen squatted on the ground, sorting out the usable banknotes like picking through rotten cabbages, and stuffing them into a black leather suitcase.
"Tsk tsk tsk————"
Qin Han couldn't help but exclaim that the scene was far more shocking than what was shown in the movie: "Brother Hao, if this scene were filmed in a movie, the audience would definitely say that the director was bragging."
Limping Hao, leaning on his cane, looked at the room full of banknotes, but there was little joy on his face: "Hmph, too much of this stuff is a big problem."
He poked a bundle of moldy banknotes on the ground with his cane, as if he were poking a pile of dog shit: "Forgot you're a movie actor? How about it? Seeing so much money, do you think the profits from making movies are nothing?"
Qin Han bent down, picked up a slightly cleaner banknote, and rubbed it in his hand: "Brother Hao, you can't say that."
"Your business may be lucrative, but if you're just sitting here afraid to spend it, what's the difference between that and not making any money at all?"
"The money earned from making movies, although not as efficient, is in large amounts. A good movie can bring in millions of dollars."
Upon hearing this, Limpy Ho's eyes lit up slightly.
He's been worried about the ever-increasing amount of "waste paper" he has lately.
They tried everything – buying buildings, opening hotels, even buying gold bars – but the illicit money kept pouring in like a tidal wave, impossible to launder.
Previously, one could directly use the money as a bribe to the police, but now even Godber doesn't dare to directly accept this kind of "unexplained" cash.
"Oh? How exactly does making movies make money?" Limpy Ho found a chair and sat down, gesturing for Qin Han to continue.
Qin Han knew this guy wasn't very interested in making movies, but if he could help him launder money, that would be a different story.
"Brother Hao, the beauty of the filmmaking business lies in the fact that both its costs and returns are uncontrollable."
"For example, if I were to blow up a building, who could say for sure whether it cost 500,000 to build or only 50,000?"
As expected of the supreme master of the underworld, he understood immediately. A glint of light flashed in Crippled Ho's eyes: "You mean—falsifying accounts?"
"That's just child's play." Qin Han's lips curled into a wicked smile. "The real tricks are in the box office."
"Let's say you invest in a terrible movie that nobody watches, but I can arrange for people to line up at the cinema and buy out all the tickets."
"After paying taxes, these millions of dollars in box office revenue are clean profits that can be deposited into HSBC Bank with a clear conscience."
"As for where the money for the tickets came from—" Qin Han pointed to the room full of cash, but didn't continue.
"I see!"
As Limpy Hao looked at Qin Han, he found the kid increasingly pleasing to the eye!
By simply transferring money from one hand to the other, these moldy scraps of paper in the cellar can be turned into legal assets.
He limped over to Qin Han, his gait faltering, and patted him heavily on the shoulder: "After this deal is done, we definitely need to have a good talk. If I start a film company, you'll be my consultant, and you'll get a share of the profits!"
Qin Han looked flattered and surprised: "I am honored by Brother Hao's high regard. I will have to rely on Brother Hao's help to make a living in Hong Kong in the future."
As they were talking, the iron door to the basement was pushed open again.
Two burly men carried in a man with a black cloth bag over his head.
The man, dressed in a suit, was trembling violently, mumbling incoherently, "Don't kill me, I really just came to deliver a ticket—"
"Shut up! It's so noisy!" Limpy Ho roared impatiently.
Qin Han stepped forward and removed the man's hood: "You are not allowed to reveal a single word of what you saw here today, understand? Come on, get the paperwork done."
The bodyguard pressed the agent down in front of the table, watching him pull out a thick stack of documents from the briefcase beside him: stock transfer agreements and physical stock certificates that the Luo family had prepared long ago.
"Just do your job, don't look around or ask questions." Limpy Ho's sinister voice rang out from the side, "Otherwise, I'll throw you into Causeway Bay to feed the fish."
The agent was so startled that he could barely hold the pen. He quickly lowered his head and frantically signed and stamped the pile of documents.
The only sounds in the basement were the rustling of papers and the "bang bang" of stamps being put on paper.
Finally, the last document was stamped with the red seal.
After checking everything and confirming that everything was correct, Qin Han closed and locked the several large boxes containing 6.3 million yuan in cash.
"Brother Hao, the transaction is complete, and the payment has been settled."
Limpy Ho nodded in satisfaction and waved to his men: "Send this friend out."
The two burly men put the agent back into the black cloth bag and dragged him out.
The agent clutched his briefcase tightly, muttering repeatedly, "I didn't see anything—"
I didn't see anything————
Until the iron gate slammed shut, only Qin Han and Limpy Hao remained in the basement.
"Brother Hao, this guy—" Qin Han glanced at the doorway.
Limpy Ho lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, exhaled a smoke ring, and a cruel smile appeared on his face: "He won't see the sun rise tomorrow morning. The Luo family sent him to do this kind of work; it's obvious they didn't intend to leave him alive."
This is Hong Kong in 1973, a chaotic place where prosperity and crime coexisted.
Qin Han's heart skipped a beat: Sure enough, whether it's the underworld or the legitimate world, they're all ruthless people who will devour you without spitting out the bones.
Limpy Hao had his men carry boxes of cash upstairs and load them into the car: "Brother Qin, where are you sending this money?"
"Send it to Jiahe headquarters."