The richest man started taking advantage of loopholes after joining Alibaba.

Winter has truly arrived in Beijing.

The snow came exceptionally early that year, falling heavily and covering the entire city like a white tomb.

Chaoyang District, Industry and Commerce Bureau deregistration hall.

The windows, which were usually deserted, were now lined with long queues.

The queue stretched all the way to the gate, where people shivered in the cold wind.

These people aren't here to register a company; they're here to deregister it.

Most of them were wrapped in thick down jackets, wearing masks, and clutching stacks of documents waiting to be stamped.

"Hurry up! If you don't cancel it soon, the tax bureau will come knocking!" someone shouted from the front, their voice trembling with tears.

"Stop rushing us! The system's completely frozen!" the clerk at the window yelled back impatiently.

This group includes once-glorious independent producers, studio owners with several major IPs, and publicity and distribution companies that outsource to popular celebrities.

Just two weeks ago, they were still toasting and discussing projects worth tens of millions of dollars.

Now, all they want to do is quickly change the company's status to "deregistered" in order to avoid the impending tax disaster.

cold winter.

A thoroughly cold winter.

……

In stark contrast, the conference rooms in the Weiguang Building were well-heated.

There's a queue here too.

But the queue is for those waiting to be "favored".

Xie Yu sat in the main seat, with dozens of project proposals piled up in front of him.

He held a red pen in his hand, looking like a tyrant grading homework.

"The Glory of Tang Dynasty? A historical drama with political intrigue? An investment of 150 million?"

Xie Yu glanced at it and drew a big X with a red pen.

"There are quotas for period dramas now, and such large-scale productions are too risky, so we won't do it."

The bald producer opposite him panicked, sweating profusely: "President Xie! This is an S-level script! The art direction has been going on for a year. As long as the funding is in place, we can start filming immediately..."

"That was before."

Xie Yu interrupted him, his voice cold, "Now it's the era where Wei Guang has the final say."

He casually tossed the proposal into the trash can—a place already overflowing with dreams that had been shot.

"Next."

The bald producer looked ashen-faced, as if his spine had been removed, and slumped in his chair.

This is the current market situation.

Previously, investors were begging for good projects; now, projects are begging investors on their knees.

As long as Weiguang is willing to pay, they will sell, even at a bargain price.

Because apart from Weiguang, there is no other table in all of Beijing that can issue cash checks.

……

When Lin Che pushed open the door and entered, the air in the conference room instantly froze.

It was a fear stemming from a biological instinct.

It's like a herbivore smelling the scent of an apex predator.

He was wearing a well-tailored black overcoat and wasn't even holding any documents.

"Boss." Xie Yu immediately stood up and offered his seat.

Lin Che waved his hand, gesturing for him to sit down. He then pulled up a chair and casually sat down to the side.

"How did the talks go?" Lin Che asked.

"We've acquired twelve teams, including three top-tier IPs," Xie Yu reported. "The prices were all at your instructed discount of 90%."

"Um."

Lin Che nodded, his gaze sweeping over the group of trembling film industry bigwigs.

Some of them have directed blockbuster films that grossed over 1 billion yuan, and some have won the Golden Rooster Award.

But at this moment, in front of Lin Che, they were as humble as a group of prisoners awaiting their fate.

"I know you're cursing me in your hearts."

Lin Che suddenly spoke, a smile playing on his lips.

"They call me an opportunist, a vampire, and a vulture."

No one dared to speak, and no one even dared to look up.

"That's right."

Lin Che stood up and walked up to the bald producer.

"I am the vulture."

"But you need to understand one thing."

He leaned down and stared into the bald man's eyes, the oppressive feeling causing the man's pupils to contract sharply.

"If I don't eat this rotten flesh, you won't even have any bones left."

"What's the situation outside right now? 80% of the film crews in Hengdian have stopped filming, extras are starving, and the cameras rented by companies are rusting in the warehouse. They're only ten yuan a day, but nobody's renting them."

"Banks are withdrawing loans, and investors are running away."

"Even with just a glimmer of light, we're still willing to give you a bite to eat."

Lin Che straightened up and clapped his hands.

"So, let's not talk about sentimentality or artistic value."

"Right now, I'm only talking about survival."

……

The bald producer clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his flesh.

But he eventually let go, lowered his head, and looked like a dog that had been beaten into submission.

"Mr. Lin...you're right. As long as it can be turned on, we'll modify it however we want."

The directors who were still observing nearby exchanged glances, and all of them saw despair in each other's eyes.

They knew they had no bargaining chips left.

The snow outside the window fell heavier and heavier, pounding against the glass curtain wall of the Weiguang Building with a crackling sound, as if providing accompaniment to this brutal acquisition.

……

Who will sign this contract?

Xie Yu slammed a new contract on the table.

That was a "contract of servitude".

The entire copyright was bought out, and the director only received a fixed fee, giving up all box office revenue and subsequent profits.

The acquisition price was only one-tenth of the market price.

That's a number that would make any creator want to vomit blood.

This is what is known as "pocket money".

The meeting room was deathly silent.

A long time passed.

An elderly director with glasses and gray hair raised his hand shakily.

"I...I'll sign."

He is a well-known art-house film director in China, and he mortgaged his house to prepare for his new film.

If he doesn't sign now, the bank will take his house away tomorrow.

The old director walked to the table and picked up a pen.

My hands were shaking so badly that I missed several times.

"Old Zhang..." someone nearby called out, unable to bear it.

The old director closed his eyes, and two streams of tears flowed down his wrinkled cheeks.

This is the culmination of his life's work, and now he has to sell it off like cabbage.

But he had no choice.

Swish swish.

The name has been signed.

These words signify that he has completely transformed from an independent creator into a low-level employee of Weiguang.

Lin Che watched this scene unfold.

There was no joy of victory on his face, only rational indifference.

He took out a pack of tissues from his pocket, pulled out a tissue, and handed it over.

"Let's wipe it."

The old director paused for a moment, took the tissue, and cried even harder.

"Don't cry."

Lin Che's voice was soft, yet it was as sharp as a knife.

"You should be grateful."

"In this winter when everyone is busy running for their lives, there are still people willing to pay for your dreams."

He turned around and looked at the room full of "spoils of war".

These are all teams whose strength has been proven in my past life, and those IPs are all future blockbusters.

The special effects team for "The Wandering Earth," the screenwriting team for "Dying to Survive," the art studio for "Ne Zha"...

In their previous lives, they fell apart due to a funding crisis or were dismantled by large corporations.

In this life, they were all taken into the glimmer of light.

The methods were a bit cruel.

But this is the bloody smell of primitive accumulation of capital.

"Xie Yu, the rest is up to you."

Lin Che buttoned up his coat and walked towards the door.

"Sign them all. Not a single one can be missing."

"Understood." Xie Yu's reply was concise and forceful.

Lin Che pushed open the door and went out.

In the corridor, more directors and producers were queuing up, holding number plates and looking around anxiously.

Upon seeing Lin Che emerge, they instinctively tried to surround him and strike up a conversation.

But Lin Che didn't look to the side and walked straight past.

That's the demeanor of a king.

He walked through the ruins, followed by a flock of hungry vultures enjoying their feast.

Half of the entertainment industry now belongs to the Lin family.