The Plan and the Persuasion

Zhang Haoxian, male, 32 years old—currently just having his age reversed—graduated from the film academy. He was an obscure, minor director at some television station, living a failed life where, besides scraping by, he was just scraping by. This was his profile before transmigrating, but it was now completely useless.

"If I hadn't suffered so much suppression, would I have become that kind of trash? I should have become a great director, exercising 'unspoken rules' on others every day," Zhang Haoxian muttered and cursed in his heart. It was undeniable that when he originally applied to the directing department of the film academy, his intentions were not entirely pure. However, when it came to studying, he was incredibly diligent. What he was most proud of was once setting a record of watching ten movies a day for many consecutive days!

Watching these ten movies was not just for entertainment; he had to analyze camera angles, techniques, ponder the director's intentions, and deduce the pros and cons based on his own observations. In addition, he read a massive number of movie scripts, even searching the internet for the original scripts of Hollywood films. He often debated with lecturers and professors to the point of losing track of time.

But because of this, after graduation, he was suppressed. Let alone achieving that not-so-noble "great ambition," he almost couldn't even find a job. In the end, with great difficulty, he managed to become a minor assistant at a television station. Although he later climbed up to the position of director step by step, what could a director at a small local station actually do?

Yet, even though he was that destitute, during a class reunion of the film academy, that crowd still wouldn't let him off. As soon as they met, they took turns offering him drinks, as if they wouldn't stop until they drank him to death. In the end, Zhang Haoxian really was drunk to death. He could even clearly remember the last sentence before transmigrating, which was someone's panicked voice: "Oh no, he doesn't seem to be breathing!"

Alright, dying from alcohol poisoning and then being reborn, he could be considered the first. Don't think about it anymore; those things no longer had anything to do with him. Zhang Haoxian waved his hand to dispel those memories from his mind. Obviously, some mighty figure, perhaps Hong Jun, perhaps Jehovah, had given him a unique opportunity to start over, and he had to live it worthily.

"Hollywood!" Zhang Haoxian murmured the name. Having watched so many movies in his past life, how could he not know what this name represented? The center of the world's entertainment industry, the place where every handsome man and beautiful woman aspiring to fame gravitated. So... why couldn't he "seed" Hollywood?! A strange thought suddenly popped into his mind, causing his breathing to quicken. Obviously, in some aspects, Zhang Haoxian and Adrian shared similarities.

A unique silver-gray Ford car stopped by the roadside. The young man stepped out of the car, tossed a coin into the parking meter, adjusted his expensive handmade suit, and walked into the exquisite cafe nearby. Under the guidance of the waiter, he quickly found his target, walked over, sat down in front of the other party, and said in a lazy tone, "What do you want with me, Adrian?"

"Very simple, Claude. I want you to help me rob the Japanese." Zhang Haoxian, or rather Adrian, folded the newspaper in his hand, raised his head, smiled, and looked straight into the other's eyes.

"That's creative," the other whistled. "Tell me the time and place. The Los Angeles Police Department might award me an outstanding citizen medal."

"Right now, the whole of America is robbing the Japanese. I just want to seize the opportunity to get a share of the soup." Adrian leisurely pushed the newspaper in front of him, where the financial section featured a prominent analysis of the Nikkei index.

"Since when did you like reading financial news?" Claude asked in surprise while teasing.

"I believe you've been doing the same thing lately, though your father must have restricted you a lot," Adrian said instead of answering. "My capital isn't much, only about six million dollars, but I can let you take full charge. How about this condition, Claude?"

"What are you talking about, Adrian?" If Claude had been joking earlier, he was now serious.

"Do you really want me to repeat it, Claude?" Adrian crossed his legs, interlacing his fingers on the table.

Seeing this familiar gesture, Claude unconsciously raised his hand. "You know, Adrian, for a few seconds, I thought the person sitting in front of me was someone else—why did you suddenly bring this up with me?"

"The truth is—" Adrian weighed his words, "I really have changed after a few things." He shifted his posture. "Remember a few days ago when I told you over the phone that I got shocked while trying to fix my nightlight?"

"Of course," Claude nodded suspiciously. "Did it leave any sequelae?"

"During the time from my coma to when I woke up, I had a dream. I saw light, the glory of God. There were many things flashing before my eyes; I wanted to grasp them but couldn't. Suddenly, I woke up and felt that I had to do something. So after a few days of thinking, I came to find you," Adrian said with a profound, inscrutable expression.

"So you found me to help manage investments, and after making money..." Claude gestured, saying seriously, "Build a few magnificent cathedrals and donate them to church organizations?"

"If you agree, I will notify lawyer Wilson immediately," Adrian ignored his joke. "Full authority is yours to deploy. I only want results—that money must increase by at least five to ten times!"

"Five to ten times?" Claude showed surprise again. "You must know that everything is about to end now..."

"That's why I found you," Adrian interrupted unceremoniously. "Don't tell me that spending two years in your father's company has worn away all your sharpness, Claude."

"Don't use that trick on me, Adrian," Claude curled his lip. "Tell me the truth, what do you actually want to do?"

"Very simple," Adrian smiled, his expression turning serious. "I want to control Hollywood."

"Control Hollywood?" Claude frowned, tapping his fingers on the table a few times before speaking. "If you had told me this goal at the very beginning, I would have just laughed at you, but now..." He showed a look of "sympathy." "I can introduce you to a very good doctor, Adrian. He is highly qualified in psychiatry and psychology. Maybe you should spend some time talking to him."

"Put away your humor, Claude. I am very serious about discussing this with you." Adrian raised both hands.

"Do you know what you are saying, Adrian?" Claude truly became serious. "Leaving aside how absurd this idea is, even if you really want to aim for that goal, you first need a massive amount of money."

"Aren't I asking you to help make money?"

"Help make money? Fine, even if I strive to meet your demand, it will only be about sixty million dollars. Establishing a medium-sized film company and investing in a few mid-budget movies will exhaust it all. If the movies don't make money, you can only wait for bankruptcy."

"What if they make money?"

"Then keep making money until going public," Claude straightened up, staring into Adrian's eyes. "Before your company's market value exceeds twenty billion, you can't do anything besides make money, Adrian. Furthermore..."

"We also need a massive amount of connections and reputation," Adrian chimed in. "Actually, this matter is very simple."

"Simple?" Claude rolled his eyes, spreading his hands helplessly.

"First, we already have some connections; we just need to utilize them well. Second, as long as we produce a few movies with high box office returns, people will naturally scramble to invest. Finally, if we can promote a few actors, for example, winning Oscars for Best Actor and Actress, people will also scramble to cooperate with us," Adrian said unhurriedly.

"Indeed simple," Claude snorted. "As long as God blesses us so that every hand we hold is a royal flush, everything is simple."

"I've already prepared a script, Claude," Adrian smiled profoundly again. "I dare say the studios in Hollywood will be very interested. After gaining a foothold this way, I will immediately start directing films, expanding my influence step by step, while you only need to provide economic protection."

"You're saying... you're writing a script, and you also want to direct?!" Claude's mind clearly couldn't keep up.

"Why not give it a try, Claude? See if I can create a miracle. You only need to spend a year's time to find a way to increase this six million dollars by at least ten times. Just consider it as leaving your parents to train yourself. You have nothing to lose," Adrian said, narrowing his eyes with a smile.

Claude stared at him in silence for a long time before finally speaking, "I remember you used to have a Chinese phrase on your lips that you learned from your grandmother, the general meaning of which is—being good at leading the opponent step by step, letting them think according to one's own rhythm. You once said picking up girls had to be like that. I didn't expect you to use it on me now."

"That term is called 'guiding step by step' (xun xun shan you); it's actually a compliment." Adrian shrugged. "I learned quite a bit of Chinese from my Chinese grandmother. If you want to learn..."

"Forget it, Adrian, stop that topic," Claude raised both hands. "I agree."

"Don't be like that, actually Chinese is very simple... What did you say?"

"I agree. Just as you said, I have nothing to lose anyway. Besides, I also really want to see what kind of miracle my childhood friend can create," Claude said, spreading his arms.

Staring at the other for a long time, Adrian finally smiled. "Very good, I don't think you will regret this decision, Claude!"

Although still maintaining his upper-class appearance, Adrian finally breathed a sigh of relief in his heart, having resolved a major issue. Persuading Claude was truly not easy. It seemed the fusion of his memories, emotions, and way of doing things was very good. This was also something worth celebrating, wasn't it?