I'm conquering Hong Kong entertainment with two billion US dollars.

Chapter 64 The Courtyard is Settled

Han Sanping sat behind his desk, holding a microphone in his hand.

"Is Lin Dong really going to donate 50 million yuan worth of supplies?"

The voice on the receiver wasn't loud, but Han Sanping straightened his back a little the instant he heard the question.

His fingers tightened slightly around the microphone, his tone resolute. "Yes. The fifty million Hong Kong dollars have been deposited into the Beijing Film Studio's account. Woven bags, tarpaulins, life jackets, life rings, drinking water, dry rations, disinfectant—the list is complete."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone. When the speaker spoke again, the tone was unchanged, but the pace of his words slowed down noticeably, as if he was carefully considering each word as he spoke.

"This is a truly generous gesture. These supplies are enough to cover fifteen counties and districts, meeting the needs of hundreds of thousands of people for daily life, epidemic prevention, and flood control."

Please do your best to assist Lin Dong in this matter. A designated person will handle the follow-up arrangements.

"Understood." Han Sanping didn't say anything more.

The phone hangs up.

Han Sanping put the microphone back on the landline and tapped his fingers three times slowly on the desk. Then he leaned back in his chair, rubbed his temples, and placed the pen next to the pile of documents.

He hadn't expected the news to spread so quickly. It had only been a short time since he had spoken with Gao Chensheng at the factory about the suppliers, and the higher-ups already knew.

But then I thought about it again, and HK$50 million worth of supplies is indeed not a small amount in mainland China right now.

Over the years, there have been many foreign companies coming to discuss cooperation, but it's hard to find another one that offers to donate 50 million worth of supplies.

Moreover, given the timing—Hong Kong's return to China less than a year ago—the significance of this donation transcends monetary value.

He sat up straight again and flipped through the purchasing list on the table once more.

Gao Chengsheng contacted six manufacturers overnight yesterday. The fastest one will arrive in Beijing this afternoon, and the latest one will arrive tomorrow morning.

Once the person arrives, things can be settled.

Someone was knocking on the door.

"Come in."

Yu Dong pushed open the door and walked in. He stopped in front of Han Sanping's desk and bowed slightly. "Factory Manager, I've made up my mind."

Han Sanping leaned back in his chair, waiting for him to continue.

"I'll apply for a leave of absence without pay." Yu Dong's tone was unwavering, as if he were stating a conclusion he had considered many times over.

"I can't refuse the conditions Mr. Lin offered, and I certainly won't. I want to give this position a try."

He paused, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth—a smile that was half self-deprecating and half serious. "Factory manager, I've worked here for almost five years. I'll always remember your kindness in promoting me despite the odds."

But as you know, after China Film Group was established, there were only so many positions available for employees within the studio. Rather than waiting to be assigned a role by someone else, it's better to take advantage of your youth and venture out on your own.

Han Sanping looked at the young man he had personally promoted, remained silent for a moment, and then smiled.

That smile wasn't one of being convinced; it was the certainty of someone who already knew the answer. "Okay. I'll take you to see Mr. Lin this afternoon."

Yu Dong bowed, turned and left.

Great Wall Hotel. Presidential Suite. When Lin Dong woke up, bright sunlight was already streaming in through the gaps in the curtains.

He turned over, and there was no one next to him.

There were signs that someone had slept on the pillow, the glass of water on the bedside table was half-empty, and a hotel ballpoint pen was pressed down on the sticky note next to it.

Lin Dong picked it up and saw a few words scrawled on the paper: "Brother Dong, I'm leaving now. I'll look for you again when we drink."

-

"Rising slowly."

A smiley face was drawn next to the signature, the lines were hasty, as if he was in a hurry.

He chuckled, put the note back on the bedside table, and got up to go to the bathroom.

At 8:30, room service brought in breakfast: soy milk, fried dough sticks, and a few side dishes. He asked someone to move the coffee table to the French windows, and he ate while watching the morning news on TV.

The screen was showing footage of the floods in the south; the torrential rain continued, and the water level rose again.

Just after ten o'clock, my phone rang. Zhang Heping.

"President Lin, there's news about the courtyard house." Zhang Heping's voice carried a hint of barely suppressed joy, but upon closer listening, a deeper layer of solemnity was hidden beneath.

"Houhai Liuyin Street, Beile Mansion. Facing south, with the street gate facing east, it is divided into three sections: east, central and west. The central section has four courtyards: the main hall, side halls, rear bedroom and rear building. The east section also has four courtyards. The west section has a garden and a theater."

It is remarkably well-preserved and is now a protected cultural relic of Xicheng District. The existing ancient buildings cover approximately 1,000 square meters.

He paused, letting Lin Dong process this information, and then added a sentence.

"I inquired about this courtyard three days ago. At that time, the district's housing management department directly rejected it—it's a protected cultural relic and cannot be bought or sold."

I asked someone to help me, but I still couldn't get a meeting with the homeowner.

His tone remained calm and unhurried, but the wording of his next sentence was clearly carefully considered.

"This morning, someone from the housing management department called me. They said the homeowner is abroad and will be back next week, so we can talk."

There was a moment of silence on the phone.

Zhang Heping didn't explain why the Housing Management Department's attitude had changed overnight. He simply left the question unanswered, waiting for Lin Dong to continue.

Lin Dong held the soy milk cup, a slight smile playing on his lips.

He understood, of course. After the donation of 50 million yuan worth of supplies was reported by the Beijing Film Studio last night, the news had obviously spread to some level.

Zhang Heping didn't point it out because some things don't need to be said.

"No rush." ​​Lin Dong put down his cup. "Let's wait for the homeowner to return. I can convey my intentions first."

"Understood. I've already asked someone to pass on the message to the homeowner, and they're very cooperative." Zhang Heping's tone was unwavering.

He had been watching this courtyard for three days, and now he finally had a breakthrough. He would never let this lead slip through his fingers.

I hung up Zhang Heping's call, and my phone rang again as soon as I put it down.

Han Sanping.

"Mr. Lin, your HK$50 million has been transferred to the Beijing Film Studio's account."

Han Sanping's voice carried a sense of relief after completing the formalities. "I have already had Gao Chensheng notify the supplier."

The earliest will arrive this afternoon, the later one—tomorrow morning. There are six factories in total, all large enough to supply in large quantities at once.

At this point in time, each unit has a certain foreign exchange earning target.

The transfer of HK$50 million to the Beijing Film Studio's account was not merely a matter of helping Lin Dong manage his finances; for the Beijing Film Studio, this HK$ transfer, once converted into foreign exchange, was also a respectable achievement in generating foreign exchange.

Han Sanping knew what was going on and remembered this favor.

"Let's meet tomorrow," Lin Dong said. "Let's invite all the manufacturer representatives. We'll finalize the deal in person."

"Okay. Also—" Han Sanping's tone changed slightly, "I'll bring Yu Dong over this afternoon. He has an idea."

Lin Dong's lips curled into a slight smile. "Alright. I'll wait for you in the tea room on the first floor."

P.S.: I originally planned to finish with three chapters, but I wasn't satisfied, so I quickly wrote another chapter.