Chapter 00290: Setting Sail Overseas
# Setting Sail Overseas
Chapter 290
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 290: Setting Sail Overseas
"Clap clap clap!"
The applause was sparse and scattered.
Aside from his own leftist faction, everyone else was watching with cold, mocking eyes.
Because this man was utterly detestable!
From last year to this year, he had practically criticized the entire Hong Kong film industry—from the likes of Run Run Shaw and Raymond Chow down to the stuntmen and tea servers.
He had something snide to say about everyone.
Cherie Chung, seated with the *The Story of Woo Viet* team, raised an eyebrow as she studied the man on stage. *Hmm, he looks quite dashing in that suit! And those glasses give him that refined yet villainous air.*
It’d be such a shame if a talented man were ugly.
Shu Qi and Chan Pak-Sang, however, grew nervous, muttering to themselves, "Please, don’t bring up politics! Don’t mention left or right!"
Once politics seeped into an awards ceremony, the atmosphere soured instantly.
Take the Berlin Film Festival, for example—after offending the Soviet-led socialist bloc, they had no choice but to rope in Chinese films.
And then there was the Golden Horse Awards in later years, which ended up ruined…
Of course, Chen Qi himself had no intention of discussing politics.
Otherwise, no one would dare show up, and the awards might not even continue.
What he wanted to talk about was a different topic altogether.
"Thank you! Thank you to the organizers for presenting *The Tai-Chi Master* with this award…"
After a few polite words, his tone shifted.
"I know that as I stand here, most of you want to drag me offstage. I’ve offended too many people, haven’t I? But everything I’ve said is the truth."Some of you don’t like hearing it.
Well, tough luck—because you can’t refute it.
"Take *The Tai-Chi Master*, for instance. Last year, it sold overseas distribution rights for $5 million USD—nearly 30 million HKD. Who else can match that?"Now, I’m not bragging.
What I’m saying is, this year’s overall box office growth has far surpassed last year’s.
You think it’s because the market expanded? Sure, there’s some expansion, but the main reason is ticket prices went up.
Hong Kong has a population of 5 million—the market’s ceiling is right there.
How much higher can it really go?
"We have an abundance of talented filmmakers here, a solid foundation, deep roots, and an industry that’s starting to take shape. Stop fixating on East and Southeast Asia. Aim higher—look to Europe and America!"Right now, in Hong Kong cinema, only Sir Run Run Shaw and Raymond Chow have the guts to venture overseas.
Pity their films weren’t the right fit—they flopped hard.
Jackie Chan actually has the best potential, but he’s not here today… Huh? Sammo Hung, you could do it too—"*Ugh! Why drag me into this?!* Thankfully, there was no live TV broadcast, no cameras panning to him. Sammo Hung managed to keep his composure, though he deliberately turned away, pretending not to hear."..."Chen Qi’s gaze swept across the room, and wherever it landed, people shrank back, unwilling to be called out. He smirked and made his declaration:"In May, we’ll be taking *The Orphan*, a film specifically tailored for the American market, to the Cannes Film Festival.
It’ll release in the second half of the year—keep an eye out.
"We’re rooted in Hong Kong, but our sights are set overseas. We’re committed to breaking into Europe and America, to make Chinese-language films a force to be reckoned with! And we welcome like-minded filmmakers to join us—let’s go snatch a piece of the Americans’ market!"
"Clap clap clap!"
This time, the applause was livelier.
He’d genuinely piqued their curiosity. *A film specifically for the American market?*
Doing the math—it was March now, and May wasn’t far off.
They’d find out soon enough.
If you asked Hong Kong filmmakers whether they had ambition, they’d say yes.
But if you asked about long-term vision? That’d be giving them too much credit.
Breaking into Europe and America? They’d never even considered it.
But their defining trait was their *jianghu* spirit—what was that? It meant daring to act and prioritizing profit.
As long as someone took the lead and succeeded, the rest would follow in droves.
If Chen Qi had said, *I’m going to take the top spot at the Hong Kong box office this year!*—well, that’d be boring.
The top spot rotated every year; it was nothing new.
But instead, he said, *Let’s go grab a piece of the Americans’ market!*
And just like that, everyone couldn’t help but feel a flicker of anticipation…
…………
The early Hong Kong Film Awards didn’t have a fixed trophy design.
The first edition’s award was a Y-shaped figure with outstretched arms.
Starting from the 10th edition, it became the iconic design we all know: a goddess clad in film strips, holding aloft a silver-plated pearl.
With so little content and no musical performances, the ceremony zipped by in no time.
For some reason—perhaps trying to emulate European film festivals—*City Entertainment* decided to screen the American film *The French Lieutenant’s Woman* after the awards.
*Who the hell wants to watch this?*
Those who cared about appearances stayed seated.
Those who didn’t got up and left.
Chen Qi wasn’t interested either.
Yawning repeatedly, he noticed Chingmy Yau beside him was even sleepier—her eyes were already closed.
He reached over and pinched her nose.
"Mmm…"
Chingmy Yau jolted awake, swatting his hand away.
"Shifu! Why are they showing this garbage?"
"Cultural refinement, I suppose. They want us to soak up some sophistication."
"But I don’t want to watch it. Can we sneak out quietly?"
"There’s a reception dinner afterward—full of delicious food. You *sure* you want to slink away like a thief?"
"Ugh!"
Chingmy Yau wrestled with herself for a moment before slumping back.
"Fine, I’ll wait."
Then she suddenly sat up.
"And stop pinching my nose!"
With that, she closed her eyes again and leaned slightly toward him, as if seeking comfort.
Bored out of his mind, Chen Qi alternated between whispering with Tony Leung and others, resting briefly, and scanning the room.
About a third of the guests had already left—surprisingly, Sammo Hung was still there.
*Say what you will about these guys, but they’ve got that brotherly loyalty.*
His gaze wandered until it landed on Cherie Chung again.
Dressed in a beautiful gown, she sat listlessly with Chow Yun-fat, Ann Hui, and others.
Noticing his stare, she stuck her tongue out at him.
*Ah!*
*"The Four Beauties: Carina, Maggie, Cherie, and Rosamund… the Virtuous, the Chaste, the Quick-Witted, the Joyful…"* He’d already met two of them. *Huh? Wait—doesn’t that make them the "Big and Little Red Beans"?*
In *Once a Thief*, Cherie Chung’s character was named "Red Bean."
And in *The New Legend of Shaolin*, Chingmy Yau’s character was also called "Red Bean."
…………
At 9 p.m., the dreadful film finally ended.
The organizers were strapped for cash, so the reception dinner was held right there in the arts center’s cafeteria—a buffet setup.
Still, there was steak, barbecue, seafood, desserts, and red wine.
Not too shabby.
"You want this?"
"Yes! Cut me a slice—the big one!"
"Grab two, grab two!"
Cherie Chung and Chingmy Yau went on a culinary rampage, determined to sample every dish.
They each took a dessert, popped them into their mouths simultaneously, and gasped in delight.
"Wow, so good!"
Cream smeared at the corner of her mouth, Chingmy Yau wiped it away casually.
"Ah Cherie-jie, can we take some to go?"
"How’re we supposed to do that here?"
Cherie Chung glanced around, then lowered her voice conspiratorially.
"We could sneak some out—just don’t let anyone see. Otherwise, it’d be so embarrassing."
"You think you’re *not* embarrassing right now?"
Chen Qi cut in icily.
"This is a formal dinner. Low-tier as it may be, it’s still a formal event. Have some dignity, would you?"
"Is dignity more important than filling our stomachs?" Cherie Chung shot back.
"Yeah! I’m just a kid—what do I need dignity for?"
Chingmy Yau chimed in, reaching for more food, but Chen Qi pulled her back.
"It’s getting late. I’ll take you home soon."
"Huh? But I wanted to eat mo—I mean, stay longer!"
"I’ll buy you some midnight snacks on the way," Chen Qi relented.
"Yay! Deal!"
Chingmy Yau immediately set her plate down.
Chen Qi then turned to Cherie Chung.
"You coming too? It’s on the way."
"Sure, why not? Free ride!" Cherie Chung nodded.
"Meet me downstairs at 10. I won’t come looking for you."
After giving his instructions, Chen Qi picked up a glass of wine and made his way toward Sammo Hung.
(End of Chapter)