Chapter 1242: Press Conference

In the end, Lau Tin-wong didn't say much more. He was willing to make this call to Zhao Fusheng only as a favor to Wong Jing. After all, he and Zhao Fusheng weren't close; though they had some connections, favors like this were used once and diminished. He would certainly plead for Xie Tingfeng and Zhang Weijian, but only with perfunctory words.

Andy Lau knew how to handle people, but that was all. He would do things that added icing on the cake, but he definitely wouldn't offend Zhao Fusheng.

Zhao Fusheng understood this, so after telling Lau his terms, he didn't say anything more.

He was waiting for Yang Shoucheng to come and talk to him.

After all, they were on the same level. Someone like Xie Tingfeng wasn't qualified to expect Zhao Fusheng to save face for him.

Anyway, the matter was still escalating. Zhao Fusheng felt he had plenty of time to wait.

As it turned out, Zhao Fusheng was right. Some people really couldn't sit still.

…

…

"Kid, what exactly are you planning to do?"

In Zhao Fusheng's office, Old Jiang sat imposingly across from him, sipping Zhao's treasured tea as he asked.

Lately, this guy had been riding high—his film was a box office hit, he was married with a child, and his family was happy. In Zhao Fusheng's words, he was a textbook winner in life.

"Why are you here?" Zhao Fusheng didn't answer Old Jiang's question but instead asked him one.

Jiang Wen shrugged: "I was at home with the kid when someone called me, asking me to sound you out."

As he spoke, he dropped his smile and said to Zhao Fusheng, "I also want to know what you're planning."

Zhao Fusheng chuckled: "You're such a troublemaker. I think you're just here to watch the fun."

In his view, Jiang Wen was simply too bored. This matter had nothing to do with him, and as a shareholder of Future Film, he would definitely side with Zhao no matter what decision he made.

Hearing Zhao Fusheng's words, Jiang Wen laughed lightly, a playful expression on his face: "Looks like you're about to screw someone over again, aren't you?"

Zhao Fusheng didn't hide it from him and nodded: "Future Film won't get involved in this, or rather, we won't be the ones to stick our necks out."

Jiang Wen was startled, looking at Zhao Fusheng in surprise. Then he understood what Zhao meant. Thinking it over, Zhao was right—Future Film had cooperation with Hong Kong, but Zhao's relationship with them was decent. Backed by Future Group, Future Film had no need to worry about unfair treatment.

"There's no need to get involved in this," Zhao Fusheng said to Jiang Wen. "Just wait and see. Those people in Hong Kong won't stay quiet."

Jiang Wen was about to speak when the phone on Zhao Fusheng's desk suddenly rang.

"Yeah, it's me. What's up?"

Zhao Fusheng picked up the phone, and moments later, his expression turned interesting.

When he hung up, he looked very strange.

"What happened?" Jiang Wen asked curiously.

Zhao Fusheng gave a wry smile: "The 'Legendary Twins' crew just announced they're holding a press conference."

Press conference?

Jiang Wen was dumbfounded, staring at Zhao Fusheng as if asking for an answer.

Zhao Fusheng shrugged: "Don't look at me. I have no idea what's going on. I heard it's in Huairou. Who knows what stunt they're pulling."

…

…

Hotel conference room.

The same room where Zhao Fusheng had earlier taught Xie Tingfeng and Zhang Weijian a lesson. It had been hastily set up as a press conference venue, with a long table made of desks at the front, leaving four or five seats. Below were about twenty chairs. There were no banners or slogans, making it look a bit shabby.

"Wow, everyone's here."

A young girl with a ponytail whispered to her companion. They wore badges from the Capital Evening News. Not far away, a few others had cameras slung around their necks.

"Life Daily, Capital Daily, Capital Morning Post... All the capital's media are here. Everyone's well-informed," the young girl's companion said with a smile. She was in her early forties, wearing glasses, with a camera around her neck.

"Master, what's this about?"

The young girl, clearly inexperienced, asked her mentor curiously.

In those days, there were no pure paparazzi. The man later known as China's first paparazzo, Zhuo Wei, was still working at the magazine Big Star. Though the magazine was founded in 2003, it hadn't yet made a name for itself. It wasn't until the end of this year, when he joined New Capital Daily, that he would truly begin to show his teeth.

"Don't worry about it," the middle-aged woman said with a smile, casually handing her apprentice a red envelope. "Take it."

?

The young girl was startled, then raised an eyebrow: "This is?"

"Travel expenses," the master, clearly a veteran, said to her apprentice. "Take it."

Generally, giving money to journalists was for commercial promotion, like product launches, new film press conferences, or paid news. But today was just a briefing, and the crew was openly handing out cash. That could only mean one thing: hush money.

Hush money meant keeping the journalists present from saying anything they shouldn't.

After all, these journalists were called the "uncrowned kings." If you pissed them off, there was no telling what they might write.

But the problem was, moments later, the middle-aged female master's face turned sour.

"What's wrong, Master?" the female apprentice asked curiously.

"Nothing," the master said nonchalantly, stuffing the red envelope back into her pocket, but cursing inwardly: "Cheapskate!"

As a veteran journalist, she had been through many interviews and had taken so-called travel expenses before. At ordinary press conferences, journalists were given some money, but she had never encountered such stinginess—only a hundred yuan in travel expenses.

That's right, the red envelope contained only a hundred yuan, and it was in two fifty-yuan notes.

At first, she thought she was the only one who got so little, but after sneaking a look at those around her, she found that everyone else seemed to be in the same boat. Their expressions were all sour.

"What the hell are these Hong Kong people up to?"

At that moment, a group of domestic journalists were all cursing in their minds, because no matter how they thought about it, they couldn't figure out what was going on.