While adapting "The Sixth Sense," Wu Changyun kept thinking of Wong Pak-ming. For some reason, he felt he was quite suitable for the role of the professional man, though his face lacked a certain depth of wisdom. The original film lacked much comedy, and some scenes were genuinely terrifying, making it a bit creepy to watch alone.
"However, are there any mature horror films in Hong Kong now?" Wu Changyun fell into deep thought with a pen in his hand. By the way, have there been any good thriller films produced in China?
If you count them carefully, there should be some, but Wu Changyun has never focused on the field of horror films, which has resulted in the fact that we can't even find a relatively famous ghost film from the 1970s.
After finishing the script, Wu Changyun couldn't help but wonder if it would actually sell. Bringing a 1990s American thriller to the present day felt a bit anachronistic. After some thought, Wu Changyun decided to ask Chen Sisi to review it. Since moving to Mount Kellett, he and Fushun were the only two single men. Shouldn't such a high-end residence be home to beautiful women?
Thinking of this, Wu Changyun called Chen Sisi directly.
Chen Sisi is shooting an advertising poster, performing various actions under the fill light. Her pager is usually placed in the dressing room or locker, and basically all business contacts are made to her agent.
It just so happened that Yuan Aijia had nothing to do these days, so he either followed the cheerful Chen Sisi all day or ate and drank at the eldest princess Xia Meng's house, so that he could get familiar with the company's business.
Yuan Aijia answered the phone and said, "Chen Sisi is taking pictures."
Wu Changyun felt that the voice was somewhat familiar, especially the indifferent tone. An image suddenly emerged in his mind.
"Okay, please tell her it's something related to the script," said Wu Changyun.
"Script? Chen Sisi doesn't have any new plays recently."
"No, I have a script I want to sell."
After hearing what Wu Changyun said, Yuan Aijia was even more confused. She had never heard of anyone selling a script. The company's scripts were either purchased by copyright or found by more mature screenwriters in the industry. What's more, the call was directly sent to Chen Sisi's pager.
"Well, would you mind telling me your name?"
"Wu Changyun."
Hearing the name, Yuan Aijia burst out laughing and quickly covered her mobile phone's microphone. Her face flushed with joy, and the corners of her eyes curved upwards. In her opinion, Wu Changyun was a grassroots prodigy, from an ordinary background, with nothing special about his experience. In the eyes of the media, he had just gotten the third place at the Hong Kong box office by sheer luck.
"Okay, I'll tell her."
Yuan Aijia hung up the phone, went over to interrupt the filming, took Chen Sisi's hand and asked, "Wu Changyun just called me and said he wrote a new script."
"Script? I've never heard that Wu Changyun has such ability."
"That's all your business."
Yuan Aijia pouted, put her hands in her pockets and whistled.
"Okay, I'll call back and ask." Chen Sisi took the pager and called back.
The two chatted for a while, and Yuan Aijia was eavesdropping on them. She didn't expect that Wu Changyun actually invited Chen Sisi to his new home.
"What? So they moved to Mount Dogali. How come this guy Wu Changyun has the same taste as my old man?" Yuan Aijia said angrily.
Chen Sisi hung up the phone and was about to finish filming when Yuan Aijia stopped him and asked, "Where are you going?"
"Taking pictures."
"Then I'll go drive and wait for you. Finish quickly and don't make me wait too long." Yuan Aijia leaned over and smiled pretending to be well-behaved, constantly acting cute towards Chen Sisi.
"Do you two know each other?"
"I know him, and I know him very well."
"Okay, got it. I'll get it done soon."
In the afternoon, Fushun returned to his villa in Dogali Mountain. He was wearing a suit jacket and as soon as he came back, he pulled his tie off by the collar, opened the refrigerator, took out a can of soda and gulped it down.
"It feels so good." Fushun said while leaning against the cupboard.
This house was already finely decorated when it was bought. It was said to be designed by a designer. Although the interior is very complete, there are very few daily necessities, and the refrigerator is full of soda, fast food and the like.
"Do you think we should hire a servant or a housekeeper? Otherwise, neither of us can cook or anything, what a waste."
"Sure, if you want to hire someone, just hire him. Just use a portion of the income from the property to pay the salary." Wu Changyun was still lying on the sofa with a drawing board on his knees, recording the connection between various plots.
"I think it's okay. Let me do the math for you. I currently own a total of 97 houses, which cost me over a million yuan. If we can rent out all of them, I can still have half of the money left after paying off the installments in a month." Fushun scratched his head and said with some embarrassment, "I've encountered some strange things today. People keep wanting to buy some kind of leasehold rights from me."
"Leasehold rights?" Wu Changyun smiled. This was a term that was popular in Hong Kong in the 1960s.
In the 1960s in Hong Kong, many foreign tenants appeared. They bought the landlord's rental rights and then partitioned the entire house, living in one of the rooms themselves and renting out the remaining partitioned rooms again. Under this model, the sub-landlord could also make a considerable profit.
"We don't sell rental rights to our houses. These people clearly have cheap and comfortable houses but they still want to rent them out. They even partition the houses, making everyone uncomfortable. Moreover, the rent is higher than what we set. Let them go to hell."
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