Chapter 124: The Gathering of the Shadow Clan

“Mr. Huang, it is truly an honor to have you grace us with your presence,” Yan Xu said warmly, firmly shaking Huang Baiming’s hand. Having him sent by New Art City was an incredible show of respect for Yan Xu’s fledgling company.

“Please, call me Brother Huang. If you say ‘Mr. Huang,’ people might think I’m some old man past seventy or eighty,” Huang Baiming replied with a chuckle. In the industry, he was known for his affability, widespread connections, and modest demeanor.

“Brother Huang,” Yan Xu responded respectfully, avoiding the use of his given name.

“I’ve long wanted to meet you, this great talent in the entertainment world. I just never had the time. You young people these days are remarkable. When I was your age, I was just starting out as an actor at TVB,” Huang Baiming reflected, looking at Yan Xu with admiration.

Although New Art City had been thriving, since Zeng Zhiwei left and Tsui Hark established his own film studio, internal conflicts had intensified. This year especially, Huang Baiming advocated for continuing the “Best Partners” sequel, while Mak Ka insisted on starting anew. This dispute led to New Art City losing its crown as box office champion in Hong Kong for several consecutive years. The ambitious “Congratulations and Prosperity,” backed by Mak Ka, grossed only 18 million HKD—ranking fifth among current releases, yet trailing behind the three films from Golden Harvest by at least ten million HKD. Even Yan Xu’s latest film, “Mansion No. 1,” placed fourth, with nearly a seven million HKD gap between them—a difference equivalent to the box office of a top thirty Hong Kong film.

This exacerbated tensions among New Art City’s leadership, with the three powerhouses even slamming their fists on the table during arguments. Such internal divisions would inevitably affect their upcoming productions. Compared to Golden Harvest’s diversified successes, New Art City’s tentative plan for next year included only two or three films, each managed independently by the trio.

The Hong Kong film industry was flourishing, with more companies joining the fray. Falling behind, even slightly, meant being left far behind.

“You are truly impressive, Brother Huang. I merely took a shortcut, unlike you who climbed up step by step from screenwriter. You are a shining example for filmmakers,” Yan Xu complimented with a subtle touch of flattery.

“Not at all,” Huang Baiming smiled gently. “I only achieved my current success after turning thirty, almost forty. You’re only in your twenties—give it time, and your Dragon Clan will certainly catch up with New Art City.”

“We are still a new company. To catch up with New Art City is beyond my ambition,” Yan Xu replied modestly. Though every company founder hoped to reach the top, not all could succeed. Yan Xu’s goal was simply to secure a firm place for Dragon Clan Films in the Hong Kong film scene.

“If one has determination, nothing is impossible. Plus, your Dragon Clan has its own talent agency with many outstanding actors, especially with you, a genius director at the helm. Success is inevitable. Actually, I have a favor to ask—you see, I want to borrow one of your actors.”

“Borrow an actor?” Yan Xu was momentarily taken aback. It was common for smaller or mid-sized companies to borrow actors from one another—like Wang Jing borrowing from D&B or Shaw Brothers for his upcoming film—but New Art City, a powerhouse with deep talent reserves, rarely needed to borrow from others.

“Exactly,” Huang Baiming nodded.

“You must understand our company’s situation this year hasn’t been ideal. Our three-year streak as box office champion has ended. Our big release ‘Congratulations and Prosperity’ fell behind your ‘Mansion No. 1’ by several million HKD. So next year, we must strive harder. We have several major projects lined up, which complicates actor scheduling. We plan to shoot a ghost story called ‘Spirit and Soul’ next year. Your rising star, Yi Nengjing, would be perfect for a role. I wanted to give you a heads-up to see if she could clear her schedule after the New Year.”

Huang Baiming did not hide New Art City’s underwhelming performance this year nor his ambitions for the next. He knew next year’s box office battle would be fierce. The “Lucky Star” series had tasted success and wouldn’t end abruptly. Chen Long’s new film “Dragon Brothers” was penned by the very young, talented screenwriter before him, with the addition of Ah Lun and the stunning Guan Zhilin, plus Spanish actress Laura Fuña—a formidable competitor. And of course, Yan Xu himself stood as an ambitious young force, with three proven films and a newly established company possibly ready to make a major splash next year.

“No problem,” Yan Xu agreed without hesitation. Although Yi Nengjing’s recent song was popular, she was still a rookie needing refinement in vocal technique, stage presence, and interpersonal skills. Yan Xu had no plans to rush her debut album—she needed growth. This film from New Art City was a valuable chance, and ‘Spirit and Soul’ was a modestly budgeted project typical of Hong Kong cinema, ideal for Yi Nengjing. What she needed now was experience, not box office glory.

***************** Break *********************

“Brother Wu, I thought you wouldn’t come!”

“Of course I would. I didn’t expect you to have your own film company so quickly,” Wu Yushen said, handing over a fruit basket to Yan Xu. Seeing other gifts were fine wines or gourmet delicacies, he felt his humble basket was somewhat inadequate, and his expression betrayed slight embarrassment. “Just some fruit to show my respect.”

“Your presence is the greatest honor; no need for gifts,” Yan Xu said as he gratefully placed the basket on the table.

Wu Yushen was surprised to receive an invitation from Yan Xu, a young man he had connected well with on the plane. Since returning to Hong Kong, Wu had kept an eye on Yan Xu’s career and even saw “Mansion No. 1” in theaters.

The failure of “Laughing Master” had plunged Wu Yushen’s career into the depths. Though back in familiar Hong Kong from Taiwan, his career remained stagnant. He was given no substantial work in the company and saw no future at New Art City. Fortunately, some old friends remained, like Old Master Xu, who offered him a position at his studio. Wu knew this wasn’t due to his abilities but friendship—a lifeline.

The entertainment industry was quick to forget. Wu Yushen’s decade of comedy glory was long past. His grasp on commercial comedy was weak; after the flop of “Colorful Lin Yazhen,” an on-set injury in Thailand, being fired by Golden Harvest, and sidelined in New Art City, his exile lasted years. In over three years, he had only one mediocre film, “Laughing Master,” marking him as toxic and forgotten.

“I didn’t expect you’d become a film company owner so fast,” Wu Yushen said, full of envy. Once, he too had been full of youthful ambition.

“It’s all luck. What have you been up to lately, Brother Wu?” Yan Xu asked, aware of Wu’s downturn but not the details.

“Ah,” Wu Yushen sighed, “not much. Just staying home and looking after the kids.”

“Huh?” Yan Xu was surprised. Wu was never one to sit idle. For a former great director, even in a slump, one would expect a place for him at a major company like New Art City. Never had he imagined Wu would be at home caring for children.

“Brother Wu, my company is just starting out and short on manpower. Would you consider joining us?” Yan Xu had long wanted to recruit Wu Yushen but never found the right moment. Now, learning of Wu’s plight, he seized the opportunity.

“Well...” Wu Yushen hesitated, unprepared for the invitation. To him, Yan Xu’s offer felt like Old Master Xu’s—a favor extended by friendship.

“I’m box office poison right now. You really want to take that risk?” Wu shook his head.

“I do. If you join our company, I’ll immediately assign you a new film,” Yan Xu declared, laying down his trump card.

“A new film?” Wu Yushen’s interest peaked. It had been over a year since he last directed; no projects meant tragedy for a filmmaker.

“But I’m worried the comedy market is unpredictable. Aren’t you afraid I’ll lose money again?” Wu looked at Yan Xu doubtfully. His expertise was comedy, but after three years in Taiwan, he was out of touch with Hong Kong’s comedic trends and unsure if he could deliver a quality film.

“No fear. The project I have for you isn’t a comedy—it’s a gunfight action film,” Yan Xu said. Originally, Yan Xu intended to direct this masterpiece himself, but upon reflection, he realized it wasn’t his style. Many scenes were beyond his grasp. (To be continued...)