Chapter 125: Jackie Chan

Words : 804 Updated : Oct 2nd, 2025

The movie Battle Creek Brawl, which premiered on at the end of August, unsurprisingly flopped. That's just the way of the world -- never try to imitate something; those kinds of imitations are bound to flop. There's only one Bruce Lee. It's really unfortunate that Bruce Lee didn't make more films. "Boss, Mr. Chow and the others have arrived." "Alright, take them to the meeting room. I'll be there right away." "Okay, boss." They didn't have to wait long before William White arrived. "Take a seat, take a seat. Make yourself at home here, just be comfortable." "Thanks, Mr. White." "Mr. Chow, I understand why you're here. I'm interested in collaborating. Here are my terms; if you're okay with them, we can start immediately. Suzuki, give Mr. Chow our contract documents." William White didn't bother with pleasantries and got straight to the point. The contract was fair; Raymond Chow got a 30% stake and correspondingly only borne 30% of the costs. "William, the contract looks good. I wanted to ask, can we handle the Asian distribution? And about the script, from what I gather, you already have one in mind." "Mr. Chow, distribution in Asia can be a joint effort. You can get involved, but it must follow our requirements. The movie will be released worldwide simultaneously. If time permits, the premiere could be in Hong Kong and Japan. I don't want any unpleasantness; you know Hong Kong's communities are a pain, and I don't like trouble." "Understood, we will coordinate everything." "Suzuki, give Mr. Chow and Jackie the script." "Alright, boss." Raymond Chow was very pleased. He liked this kind of straightforward interaction. "Godfather, this script is great. Who wrote it?" "Ah Jackie, don't be rude. William has written quite a few scripts." "Haha, it's okay. Feel free to give your thoughts." Raymond Chow worried about Jackie Chan's big mouth; the guy was known for having a short temper and wasn't exactly a saint. But it turned out differently. William White and Jackie Chan chatted quite happily, even sparring a little. For Jackie Chan, today was quite rewarding. This was exactly the kind of script he was looking for. If nothing went wrong, Eddie Murphy would be the other lead. Would this movie flop? Raymond Chow hadn't thought about that. The reputation was there; people's records were undeniable, and nobody in Hollywood dared to challenge it at that time. After lunch, Raymond Chow and Jackie Chan left happily, the shadow of the box office failure temporarily behind them. ... "Dear, why's there a line outside the bookstore?" "No idea? Didn't hear of any new novels. Let's check it out." "Yeah, sure." The bookstore owner also complained; this guy's books were odd. No ads, yet there's a line. Why was he dabbling in movies? Writing was better. A book with zero promotion soared straight to the bestseller list's top. Though a surprise, it was expected. No one was bitter this time. The book was genuinely well-written. It seemed like a fantasy novel on the surface, but its deeper meaning depended on the reader's understanding. Of course, if you just wanted a good show, this book worked too. The scale was vast, and remembering the characters wasn't easy. ... "Lucas, are you sure this guy's a director? He seems more suited for classics." When Spielberg quipped, Lucas didn't mind. "Though he's still a student, no professor taught him this stuff. Could there really be a genius in this world?" "Genius or not, his money-making skills are unmatched." "Yeah, heard he's doing a cop movie next?" "Ha, this one's risky. The Hunter just tanked. If he succeeds again, well, there's nothing else to say. He'd be a top dog." "Can't fail too much, like that book of his -- no ads, yet still drawing crowds?" "True, maybe a hit to reputation, but the box office won't be terrible." ... Publishers were also scratching their heads. At his pace, the book would take a decade to finish. For greater profit, they preferred novellas. Lengthy works weren't impossible, but as a non-professional writer, pressuring him was out of the question. Readers finishing the book grumbled, "Man, can you set a timeline? If it takes you twenty years, I might not last to see it." "One volume a year, no more than eighteen months. You want good books; I can't just scribble nonsense." The publisher's expectations were settled. It was better than imagined, quite a nice pace. Why 18 months? Oh, come on, people need a break, and they wouldn't just buy sloppy work anyway. ***** https://www.patreon.com/Sayonara816.

Chapter 125: Jackie Chan

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