Chapter 00163: I’ve Already Sold It
# I’ve Already Sold It
Chapter 163
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 163: I’ve Already Sold It
Chen Qi met with film distributors from over twenty countries in a single day.
To save time, he decided to gather the smaller countries together for a joint discussion.
After all, these countries didn’t compete with each other, and their markets were small, with fixed prices for film purchases.
Some offered a few thousand dollars, others around ten thousand, with the highest bid not exceeding twenty thousand.
By the end of the day, Chen Qi had secured purchase agreements totaling $400,000. Among them, Singapore and Malaysia offered the highest price at $150,000, as they had always been strong markets for Chinese-language films.
However, the three major markets Chen Qi was targeting—South Korea, Japan, and the United States—had yet to finalize their deals.
Chen Qi knew the potential of this type of martial arts film in these countries and wasn’t willing to sell it cheaply.
For example, *Shaolin Temple* had raked in 3.6 billion yen at the Japanese box office, ranked seventh in South Korea for the year, and even revived struggling theaters in Thailand.
Of course, the distributors didn’t fully grasp this.
They only thought Chen Qi was being too demanding.
It all came down to negotiation, finding a price both sides could accept.
Night fell.
Chen Qi still hadn’t returned to his hotel.
He remained at the hotel where Fu Qi and his team were staying.
February in Berlin was bitterly cold, and the two men, bundled up in thick coats, chatted on a rooftop terrace, overlooking a West Berlin that looked completely different from the daytime.
The large shopping malls were lit up with colorful lights, the streets bustling with traffic, and the cafes wafted soft music.
Some foreigners were dressed warmly, while others wore lighter clothing, laughing and chatting on the streets, exuding an enviable sense of ease.
In modern terms, this would be called "relaxation."
But Chen Qi found the term annoying.
In his view, true relaxation could only be achieved in two ways: having enough money to not work or simply giving up entirely.
"Good news from Hong Kong!" Fu Qi spoke up with a smile.
"The box office for *Tai Chi* has officially surpassed *Security Unlimited*. They made 13.86 million, and we’re at 13.96 million—10,000 ahead!"
"Can we hold onto the lead?"
"The peak period for both films has passed. I estimate there’s still a few million left to earn. We’ll definitely take first place, but breaking 20 million might be a stretch."
In those days, theaters only screened five shows a day, from morning to night.
Large theaters seating over a thousand people had high operating costs.
If the audience was too small, a single screening might not even cover the electricity bill.
Even though the leftist theaters were part of their own network, if the audience numbers didn’t meet a certain standard, they would pull *Tai Chi* from the lineup.
"This is our best result in over a decade, Xiao Chen. Thank you so much!"
"You’re too kind. I didn’t do much."
"No, no. You’ve been a huge help. At least financially, we’re in a better position now."
Fu Qi was deeply moved.
The leftist film industry had always stuck together, supporting one another.
When the theaters made money, they kept a portion for daily expenses and used the rest to support Great Wall, Phoenix, and Sun Luen—the three major studios.
So, when *Tai Chi* became a hit, everyone benefited.
Chen Qi thought for a moment and said, "Uncle Fu, your industry chain in Hong Kong is quite complete. You have production, distribution, and screening capabilities, along with your own studios and dormitories. But the resources of the three companies are too scattered. Why not merge them into one large company?"
"I’ve thought about that, but merging isn’t easy. It involves many aspects. I’ve been trying to get central support, but without their approval, it’s all for nothing…"
Fu Qi looked at him seriously and added, "Xiao Chen, your idea of exporting films to earn foreign currency is bold—so bold that many people can’t accept it. I’ll just say this: you’ve helped us all. If you ever need anything, just say the word. We’ll be there for you."
"That’s great to hear. Then I’ll take you up on that offer now!"
Chen Qi paused and continued, "I’m stirring up trouble abroad, and I’ll definitely face consequences when I return home. I’ll be counting on you to help me out then."
"Haha, I thought you were fearless, but it turns out even you have your worries… Don’t worry, we’ll do everything we can to help!"
…………
"Clomp, clomp, clomp!"
That evening, Fang Yurong returned to the hotel once again.
She had been running back and forth all day.
When she went upstairs, she saw that Li Wenhua and Li Lianjie had returned, but the most important person—Chen Qi—was still missing.
"Where’s Chen Qi? Where is he?"
"Where have you all been? Don’t you know there are rules about going out? You can’t just wander around as you please!"
Fang Yurong was plagued by a sense of foreboding, which made her a bit hysterical.
Li Lianjie looked at her, baffled, and said, "We can’t even go shopping? I could go shopping in the U. S. Is West Berlin stricter than Washington?"
"Don’t give me that! Where is Chen Qi?!"
"Director Fu had something to discuss with him, so he stayed behind."
"What’s so important?"
"How should I know?"
Li Lianjie didn’t like this woman and rolled his eyes before walking away.
Fang Yurong grew increasingly frantic, but she couldn’t go after Fu Qi.
She had a gut feeling that Chen Qi was up to something outrageous—something like digging up ancestral graves or kicking down widows’ doors!
Meanwhile, Li Lianjie slipped into Li Wenhua’s room, locked the door, and asked, "Director, what’s Brother Qi really doing? Why is he hiding it from everyone and doing business with foreigners?"
"Shh!"
Li Wenhua gestured for him to keep his voice down.
Since they’d already seen it during the day, he explained, "We’re negotiating the overseas rights for *Tai Chi*. This is supposed to be China Film’s job, but we don’t have the authority. Fang Yurong is from China Film, so keep your mouth shut!"
"Then why aren’t they handling it?"
"I don’t even trust China Film. What do you expect them to do…"
Li Wenhua, rarely so blunt, said, "China Film is tough on the inside but generous to the outside. They call it overseas distribution, but most of the time, it’s practically giving the films away. As long as the films get out, they consider it a job well done. They don’t care about the rest. What they love most is bringing foreign films into the country and screening them nationwide, using capitalist movies to dig into the pockets of the people. What Xiao Chen is doing is the exact opposite—using socialist films to fleece the capitalists!"
"Whoa!"
Li Lianjie sucked in a breath, not entirely understanding but sensing that it was something incredibly bold.
Fang Yurong waited all night, dozing off at one point out of sheer exhaustion.
When she woke up in the morning, everyone said Chen Qi had returned early and left again.
Fang Yurong was even angrier.
She felt like a fool, being kept in the dark by these people.
She wanted to continue searching for Chen Qi, but *The Return of the Swallow* still had some events to attend, and she had to accompany them.
She couldn’t help but curse the film bureau.
Couldn’t they have sent a few more people?
…………
On the other side.
Harvey Weinstein, having eaten and drunk to his heart’s content, finally emerged from his hotel in the afternoon.
He was a large, unkempt man with a somewhat grubby appearance.
He leisurely made his way to see Chen Qi again, ready to refine his "scheme."
The key to this "scheme" was to use a high price as bait, repeatedly pulling and dragging, keeping the other party on edge… So he had to keep feeding Chen Qi hope, making him think the contract was about to be signed, only to delay it again and again.
When he arrived and saw Chen Qi, he smiled and said, "Chen, how did you sleep last night?"
"Not bad, though the hotel room was a bit small."
"That’s how European hotels are. Last night, I discussed things with the folks back in the U. S. They were very impressed with my decision, mainly because they trust my judgment. They believe *Tai Chi* could bring a breakthrough for the company. Don’t worry, the contract is being prepared. You’ll see it soon! I came specifically to tell you this, so you wouldn’t get anxious…"
"It’ll still take a few more days?"
"They’ll be flying in from the U. S. to meet you in person. Once they’re here, we can sign. Flying to Berlin is no big deal… You can wait a few more days, right?"
"Uh…"
Weinstein observed Chen Qi’s expression.
As expected, Chen Qi’s face showed a mix of eagerness, anticipation, and worry—clearly torn.
Weinstein was confident.
If Chen Qi showed any signs of refusal, he’d offer a small deposit and draft a lopsided agreement to keep Chen Qi’s hopes high, then continue dragging things out.
"…"
Chen Qi hesitated for a long time, then finally looked apologetic and sighed.
"A few more days is fine, and I’d really like to have a deeper discussion with you. But as the Chinese saying goes, ‘Take the win and walk away, lest the night brings trouble.’ I’m really sorry, but I’ve already sold it!"
"What?!!"
Weinstein, who had been toying with Chen Qi like a cat playing with a mouse, was suddenly stunned.
He lost his composure and shouted, "You’ve already sold it?!"
(End of Chapter)