My teacher is Bruce Lee, who dominated Hollywood.

Chapter 8 Entering the Game

The Chevrolet, rattling everywhere except for the horn, shakily drove away from the airport.

With the help of the dim streetlights flashing by, Qin Han was able to make out the young assistant sitting in the passenger seat.

He had a mixed-race face with both Eastern and Western features. He was only in his early twenties. Although he looked a little tired, his light brown eyes revealed a sharpness.

"Hello, I'm Andrew Morgan," the young man introduced himself.

Qin Han's heart stirred slightly, and he replied with a smile, "Nice to meet you. It seems we'll be fighting side by side for the next few days."

This name is now a household name in the Hong Kong film industry.

As Golden Harvest's future international production director, it was during the filming of "Enter the Dragon" that he acted as a go-between between Warner Bros. and Golden Harvest, averting countless conflicts that could have brought the production to a standstill, and becoming one of Bruce Lee's most trusted behind-the-scenes supporters.

The success of this film marked the beginning of his meteoric rise in his career.

In the back seat, Raymond Chow clearly didn't pay attention to the two young men's small talk.

He loosened his tie, his tone filled with deep doubt: "Ah Long, that 'bet' you mentioned on the phone, I calculated it all the way on the plane."

"The movie hasn't even been released yet, and I'm already throwing over ten thousand US dollars into the Pacific Ocean. If it's a box office flop, that money will really be wasted."

Bruce Lee didn't answer the question; instead, he asked Raymond, "Raymond, you don't trust my movies?"

"Of course I trust you, but this is America. Do these foreigners even understand our kung fu?"

Qin Han glanced at the rearview mirror but didn't rush to interrupt.

He knew very well that a shrewd businessman like Raymond Chow could not be moved by passion and sentiment alone.

We must dispel his doubts at the root and then present him with tangible benefits.

Qin Han smiled and said to the person in the back row, "Mr. Zou, airplane food probably won't suit your taste. There's a wonton noodle stall in Chinatown that's open all night; the taste is very authentic. Why don't we go over there and chat while we eat?"

Raymond Chow rubbed his stomach: "Now that you mention it, I am indeed hungry. Let's go, I'll go with the flow."

The group arrived in Chinatown and came to a stall where a sign that read "Fatty's Restaurant" was faintly visible in the steaming mist.

The noodles were served quickly, and the familiar aroma eased Raymond Chow's nerves a little.

He picked up a mouthful of noodles with his chopsticks: "Speak, Ah Han. Since Ah Long speaks so highly of you, I'd like to hear your insights."

Andrew Morgan quickly put down his chopsticks and took out a notebook from his bag.

Qin Han didn't directly mention the movie, but instead asked, "Mr. Zou, what do you think of America now?"

Raymond Chow was taken aback, seemingly not expecting Qin Han to ask such a grand question. After a moment's thought, he replied, "Prosperous and powerful, but also full of chaos."

"That's right, they've been stuck in the quagmire of Vietnam for too long, and the whole society is filled with anxiety about the future."

"Young people's confidence is crumbling, and just at this moment, their president went to the East."

Qin Han's gaze swept over everyone present, and he continued:

"The veil of mystery surrounding the East has been lifted a crack, and all Americans are curious. And kung fu can just satisfy all their fantasies about the East."

"The Big Boss is a fuse; once lit, it will ignite the long-suppressed desire for catharsis throughout American society."

Raymond Chow had never considered the American film market from this perspective, and his gaze towards Chin Han changed.

"That's a brilliant analysis." He put down his chopsticks, his expression becoming increasingly serious. "But theory is still just theory. In the past, no Chinese-language film has ever truly broken into mainstream North American theaters, so the risks still exist."

"What if I told you that someone already has their eye on this juicy piece of meat?" Qin Han suddenly laughed.

Raymond Chow raised an eyebrow: "Who?"

"Of course, it's still Warner."

[Shaw Brothers Studio in Hong Kong has received an invitation from Hollywood], this is the information that the system just refreshed this morning.

Clearly, Warner Bros., in order to ascertain the market situation, has begun negotiations with Shaw Brothers to import "The World's Number One Fist," just as it has in previous histories.

Qin Han stared directly at Raymond Chow: "That old fox Ashley is keeping us in suspense, but I bet he's already making moves behind the scenes."

"In Hong Kong, besides Golden Harvest, they also have Shaw Brothers to choose from."

Upon hearing the words "Shaw Brothers," Raymond Chow's face instantly darkened.

This is his former employer, and now his arch-rival.

"Do you have any evidence?" The bigwig's voice became urgent.

"My word doesn't count. Boss Zou is all-powerful; you can check it yourself." With information from the system and his experience from his previous life, Qin Han believed that Zou Wenhuai could confirm this information by simply using his network of connections.

"If Shaw Brothers seizes the initiative, Golden Harvest's position in Hollywood will be very passive."

"At that time, Americans will think that kung fu movies are synonymous with Shaw Brothers productions, and that Golden Harvest is just a follower."

These words were like a dagger, piercing precisely into Raymond Chow's heart.

He could tolerate losing money, but he absolutely could not tolerate losing to Run Run Shaw.

"Andrew!" Raymond Chow turned his head sharply and looked at his assistant beside him.

Andrew Morgan, who was frantically taking notes, immediately straightened his back: "Boss, I'll verify this first thing tomorrow morning. I'll find out if Warner is really in contact with Shaw Brothers, which film they're discussing, and what the progress is."

Qin Han looked at Andrew in surprise. This kid really has some skills. No wonder he is the future boss of Golden Harvest.

Raymond Chow nodded, then looked at Qin Han again. Most of the doubt in his eyes had disappeared, replaced by the resolute determination of a gambler about to place a bet.

"If your guess is correct..." He turned to Bruce Lee, seeking one last bit of support: "Bruce, what do you think?"

Bruce Lee flashed his signature smile and placed a hand on Qin Han's shoulder: "Raymond, I've said it before, my students sometimes see further than I do. What are you still hesitating about?"

"Ahan's meaning is my meaning."

Having received this affirmative reply, Raymond Chow finally made up his mind.

"Good!" He slammed his hand on the table. "Ah Long, you've earned nearly two million US dollars for Golden Harvest. That's my confidence. Once the information is verified, I'll gamble with you!"

"Golden Harvest will cover the marketing and distribution costs of over ten thousand US dollars!"

A night breeze blew by, and everyone burst into laughter.

Qin Han picked up the beer on the table, poured a glass for Raymond Chow, Bruce Lee, and Andrew, and then filled his own glass as well.

"Mr. Zou," he raised his glass, a confident smile playing on his lips, "my master and I, as martial artists, normally don't drink alcohol. But today, for the history we are about to create..."

He glanced around at everyone, then downed his drink in one gulp: "Wishing us a successful collaboration in advance!"

……

The next day, not long after dawn, there was a knock on Raymond Chow's door.

"Mr. Zou, it's an emergency!"