Chapter 60 Fleecing Capitalism

"What if I told you there's a possibility we could earn some foreign exchange?"

"Little Chen, do you know what you're saying? You have to take responsibility for your words!"

"Old Factory Director, I didn't come up with this myself. Comrade Fu Qi mentioned it, and I'm just summarizing."

"..."

Wang Yang stared at him for several seconds, first opened the door to check the hallway, then locked it securely. He motioned for the other man to sit on the old sofa and said, "Tell me your thoughts in detail!"

"If we shoot other genres, foreigners might not understand them, or they simply won't be interested."

Chen Chen turned serious again and said, "But martial arts rely on physical movement. Even two people who share no common language can communicate to some extent through gestures. Martial arts are the same; there are no cultural barriers.

Two people fighting—audiences all over the world can understand that, right?

Whether the fight choreography is brilliant or not—audiences all over the world can understand that, right?

I think that's why the films of Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan became so immensely popular overseas."

"Go on!"

"More importantly, martial arts films contain nothing that Westerners find threatening. They belong to the realm of entertainment, free from ideological struggle, which makes censorship relatively easy.

Furthermore, we have two major advantages. First, the nation has trained so many martial arts talents, giving us a rich pool of acting resources. Second, our motherland boasts magnificent landscapes with vast spaces for action sequences.

That's why this idea popped into my head: let's make martial arts films and try releasing them overseas to earn money from the Japanese, the British, and the Americans—to fleece the capitalists!"

Hiss!

Wang Yang drew in a sharp breath of capitalist wool. It was simply whimsical and audacious!

Yet, he had to admit that his aging heart was actually pounding.

Chinese cinema had been far too isolated for too long. Previously, exchanges were limited to the Soviet Union, Eastern European socialist countries, and Yugoslavia. As the international situation changed rapidly, even these exchanges had been intermittent.

Following the reform and opening up, foreign imported films were the first to be unbanned. Works like *The Pursuit* and *Jane Eyre* were screened on the mainland, and they even hosted a British Film Week.

As for how to get domestic films to go global, nobody had ever considered the question. In 1979, the mainland's box office attendance reached a staggering 29.0 billion ticket sales, averaging 28 movie viewings per person annually—an unprecedented and unsurpassed record.

With such a booming domestic market demanding all their attention, who had time to think about going overseas? Besides, domestic films were centrally purchased and distributed by China Film Corporation, and going global was China Film's responsibility, having nothing to do with individual film studios.

However!

Wang Yang felt a sudden surge of youthful audacity. He stood up, paced slowly around the room a few times, and said, "We make the films, and our comrades in Hong Kong import them, letting them handle the distribution.

They can distribute them directly overseas, or screen them in Hong Kong, and whatever profit we make can serve as a subsidy.

Even if nobody buys them overseas, we can screen them ourselves on the mainland, and martial arts films definitely have a future. I've been wanting to make a few entertainment pictures for a long time... If we manage to sell them, that's the best-case scenario. If we actually earn foreign exchange, kid!"

Wang Yang suddenly stopped, looked straight at Chen Qi, and said word for word: "You, me, and every colleague who puts in the effort will be great heroes of our nation!!"

"..."

Chen Qi chuckled. This old man really knew how to get his own blood pumping.

Ten minutes later, he walked out of the office and gently closed the door.

The strategy of making movies to earn foreign exchange had been agreed upon. It would be a long process, and the first step, naturally, was writing the script. He took on the task without hesitation, though he made one request: he hoped Hong Kong could send over some reference materials.

Specifically, detailed data on Hong Kong films released overseas, which he could use as a reference.

Before he knew it, it was already noon. Everyone had gone to lunch, leaving the main building quiet and deserted. Walking alone down the corridor, his footsteps echoed loudly in the empty space.

Before the era of TikTok, whenever people talked about China's most successful cultural exports, it was always Kung Fu! Kung Fu! Kung Fu!

But in reality, China's most successful export was that man—yes, that man.

Especially in the era he had transmigrated from—a time of escalating conflicts, bizarre world events, and figures behaving more absurdly than the last, an era where even Iranian presidents could drop dead at any moment—that man was frequently invoked by the West...

Unfortunately, due to various reasons, it all boiled down to kung fu.

Chen Qi descended the stairs, breathing in the crisp, chilly late-autumn air, feeling a warm stirring in his chest.

As the saying went, since he had managed to transmigrate here against all odds, he had to accomplish something, right? He couldn't just spend his time collecting antiques, buying properties, and flirting with female stars... Oh wait, the female stars were definitely still on the agenda.

Antiques had to be collected too; bargain hunting was a must—it would be a waste not to.

Besides, he wasn't acting as a cultural relic smuggler; he was collecting them for himself.

Huh?

Chen Qi scratched his head. Once he had female stars and antiques, he would naturally need to buy a large estate. When all was said and forth, it still came down to these worldly desires.

"Well, well, my gentle big sister!"

With female stars on his mind, he looked up as he walked along and spotted Gong Xue strolling on the path beside the guesthouse, likely walking off her lunch. She noticed him too, walked over, and asked, "Have you eaten yet?"

"Not yet, I just finished a meeting."

"The cafeteria should still have some food. You should go grab a bite."

"Not really hungry, I'll pass. The crew isn't filming either. What have you been up to these past few days?"

"I've just been reading in my room."

"That sounds boring. Tomorrow I'm planning to head out to the streets for a stroll. Want to tag along if you're free? We can call Zhang Jinling too."

"Mmm."

Gong Xue nodded. She seemed genuinely incapable of turning people down, or perhaps she was simply well-behaved by nature.

After saying this, Chen Qi took the stairs up through one entrance, while Gong Xue wandered for a bit longer and went up through another. The guesthouse was divided into male and female sections, occupying opposite halves of the building, separated in the middle by a partition.

Why didn't they live on upper and lower floors?

Because each floor had only one shared washroom and restroom, and with people constantly going up and down, it was inevitable that some comrades might be a bit sloppy or unkempt, and being seen in that state wouldn't do.

Chen Qi returned to his room. He wasn't really hungry, but he did feel a bit sleepy.

After a short nap, he woke up refreshed and ready to work.

The foreign exchange film would have to wait a little longer; he genuinely needed to review the materials from Hong Kong to prescribe the right remedy. This matter was a top-secret endeavor between him and Wang Yang. Until they actually earned foreign currency, nobody would know what this film was really for.

In 1979, China's foreign exchange reserves stood at a mere 840 million US dollars.

Next year would be even worse: negative 1.29 billion US dollars.

The country was poor—you simply couldn't imagine what lengths the state had gone to just to scrape together a bit of foreign currency! The Overseas Chinese apartments mentioned earlier were trivial matters. If someone could actually bring in foreign currency in this day and age, they wouldn't just be treated like a father; they'd be treated like an ancestor!

They would be a supreme treasure of post-heaven merit!

As long as Chen Qi didn't commit murder, arson, or major scandals involving romantic misconduct, petty little issues like that were just a drop in the bucket!

At that moment, he laid out his manuscript paper and picked up his pen.

First, he would write a new story for *Story Monthly*. He still needed to earn manuscript fees, and with the plot already crystal clear in his mind, his pen flew across the paper like divine assistance, quickly producing an opening:

"In the early years of the Republic, there was a Nanzhu Temple along the coast of Guangdong. On the surface, it was a pure sanctuary of Buddhism, but in reality, it was controlled by a gang of villains who engaged in the defilement of women and human trafficking..."

That gentleman from Chengdu had hoped he would write a Bashu story, but Chen Qi had no time to deal with that for now.

Please!

Custom-written literature cost extra!

And the story he was writing right now was also a famous masterpiece, the cherished memory of countless individuals born in the 1970s and 80s: *The Invincible Mandarin Duck Kicks*!

(Thanks to Heiye 0522 for the support!
I have a date tonight, so that's all for now...)