Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 133 A Two-Pronged Strikes: Your Cheats Are Worthless

Jing-Tong Expressway.

The light strips from the streetlights stretched, broke, and then reformed on the car window.

Chen Yan sat in the back seat, rolled down the window, and the cold November wind rushed into the car.

He held a black maritime satellite phone in his hand; the device was cold to the touch.

In the passenger seat, Su Wan closed her laptop, the screen's glow fading from her face.

"The court's enforcement vehicle pulled into the gate of the textile factory on the outskirts of Beijing five minutes later."

Her voice was flat. "Zhao Ming's personal account and the production team's corporate account have both been locked by the bank."

"Go to Jinghai Film and Television."

Chen Yan looked at the receding city skyline outside the window. "Sister Lin should have arrived by now."

"The money Gu Changchuan used to buy the shell company was a bridge loan borrowed from Tianjin."

Su Wan tapped her fingertips lightly on her knee. "If this money is left to rot in the wrong place, the underground banks will be the first to come after him."

Chen Yan looked away, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"I want him to die at his own poker table."

---

Three days later, an abandoned textile factory on the outskirts of Beijing.

The clapperboard snapped shut, the sound particularly jarring in the empty factory.

Sitting behind the monitor, Zhao Ming gave the order into the walkie-talkie: "Camera number two, push it up a bit more, stop the aperture to 2.8, I want the light in the female lead's eyes."

The railcar slid along the makeshift rails, making a slight metallic scraping sound.

The white foam sprayed from the snow machine silently covered the rusty old-fashioned textile machine.

"All departments, take your positions! Action!"

Before the words were even finished, three white Santanas screeched to a halt at the factory gate.

The car door opened, and six uniformed court enforcement officers walked straight into the film set, their leather shoes clicking on the cement floor in a synchronized manner.

An executive stepped forward to stop them, but was forced to back down by the blue work badge flashed by the head executive.

Who is Zhao Ming?

The executive officer's voice was cold, cutting through the noisy scene and stopping in front of the monitor, blocking Zhao Ming's view.

Zhao Ming stood up, his cheek muscles twitching slightly. "I'm the director. If there's anything, wait until we finish this scene."

The executive ignored him and handed him a document stamped with a bright red seal.

"Chaoyang District People's Court. You are suspected of copyright infringement. The plaintiff, Fang Yanying Culture, has applied for property preservation. Now, immediately stop filming, seize all equipment, and freeze the production team's accounts."

"impossible!"

Zhao Ming's voice changed, "The copyright is in my own hands; I registered it on December 5th!"

"The plaintiff provided the serialized article in the Southwest Weekend newspaper, which began on November 15th. The core story structure is completely consistent with your script."

The executive officer said, enunciating each word clearly, "Publication in newspapers has legal priority. Your registration is invalid."

He waved his hand behind him: "Put on the seal."

The lighting technician wisely pulled the main switch, plunging the set into darkness instantly.

The snow machine stopped working, leaving only the faint sound of melting foam.

Two bailiffs tore off the white seals bearing the word "court" on them. One seal was placed on the lens cap of the Arri camera, and the other was used to cover the monitor screen.

Zhao Ming took out his phone and dialed Li Dong's number with trembling fingers.

There was only a cold busy tone on the receiver.

When I dialed again, the phone was switched off.

He turned to look at the assistant director and the producer, but the two avoided his gaze and silently turned to walk towards the exit.

The crew of over a hundred people remained completely silent.

The 30 million investment, at this moment, turned into a pile of scrap metal sealed off.

---

The conference room on the third floor of the Jinghai Film and Television Building.

Zhang Haifeng sat in the main seat, and Li Dong pushed a share transfer agreement in front of him and unscrewed a Parker pen.

Just as the pen was about to fall, the conference room door was suddenly pushed open, the door slamming against the wall with a dull thud.

Lin Shufen walked in wearing a black trench coat, her high heels clicking silently on the thick carpet.

Su Wan followed behind her and placed a silver combination lock box in the center of the long table with a "thud".

"President Zhang," Lin Shufen pulled out the chair next to the head of the table and sat down, taking off her trench coat and draping it over the back of the chair, "if this signature is given, Jinghai will be gone."

Zhang Haifeng's face darkened: "President Lin, this is an internal meeting of Jinghai."

"I am here to participate in the vote on behalf of Yanying Culture."

Lin Shufen said.

Li Dong sneered, "Yanying's entire cash flow is tied up in theaters. What do you have to compete with President Gu on?"

Su Wan opened the briefcase, but instead of stacks of banknotes, she found only a neatly bound document.

She pushed the documents in front of Zhang Haifeng.

"The revenue sharing from the first round of pre-sale rights sales for 'Thunder' in North America and Europe totaled US$6.2 million, equivalent to RMB 51 million."

Su Wan's voice was clear and steady, "All cash, the money can be transferred to Jinghai's account before 3 p.m. today."

Zhang Haifeng's fingers traced the numbers on the document stamped with the overseas publisher's seal, and his breath hitched for a moment.

Li Dong stood up: "President Gu offered 1.5 times the market price! President Zhang, you have a responsibility to the shareholders!"

Su Wan took Chen Yan's maritime satellite phone out of her pocket, placed it on the table, and pressed the speakerphone button.

The green light flashed, and Chen Yan's voice came from inside, calm and devoid of any warmth.

"Mr. Zhang, you won't get a single penny of Gu Changchuan's money."

"Hengtong Building Materials, which is under his name, owes the bank 20 million yuan in loans, and Ruixiang Trading's account was frozen by the court last week."

"The 30 million he used to acquire Jinghai was a high-interest loan from Wenjinmen Money House. He wanted to use Jinghai's shell as collateral to repay the debt."

"Furthermore, the production team of 'The Mist' was completely seized by the court fifteen minutes ago on the grounds of copyright infringement. As the producer of this investment, Jinghai Film and Television will bear joint and several liability for compensation."

Every word was like a nail, driven into the deathly silence of the conference room.

Zhang Haifeng's gaze shifted from the phone to Li Dong's deathly pale face.

Li Dong's phone vibrated; a text message arrived with only four words: "Film crew shut down."

Zhang Haifeng silently pushed the blue-paper agreement to the center of the table, then raised his right hand.

"Re-vote."

Zhou Jianming was the first to raise his hand: "I agree with Yan Ying's proposal."

The other shareholders followed suit.

"Passed unanimously."

Zhang Haifeng announced that "45% of the shares of Jinghai Film & Television will be acquired by Yanying Culture."

Li Dong put away his pen and walked out of the conference room without saying a word.

---

Tianjin, Haihe Hotel penthouse suite.

Gu Changchuan stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the night view of the Haihe River.

Li Dong pushed the door open and came in, stopping behind him.

"Jinghai... has been taken down by Chen Yan."

Gu Changchuan did not turn around.

"The production of 'The Mist' has been halted," Li Dong's voice was somewhat hoarse. "The court has seized everything, thirty million... we can't get it back."

Gu Changchuan slowly turned around, walked to the front of the multi-treasure pavilion, and picked up a Ming Dynasty blue and white porcelain vase.

He didn't fly into a rage; he simply examined the patterns on the bottle quietly before releasing his grip.

"Snap!"

The porcelain bottle shattered at his feet.

Li Dong's phone rang. He answered it, and after listening for less than ten seconds, his face turned even more ashen: "President Gu, China Merchants Bank called, demanding that we repay a loan of 20 million yuan by noon tomorrow, or they will seize all the land under our name."

Gu Changchuan stared at the shattered pieces on the ground, his eyes filled with malice.

"Sell off all remaining shares and recoup funds."

"No," Li Dong shook his head. "The China Securities Regulatory Commission just froze our trading privileges on suspicion of insider trading."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the red secure phone in the suite rang sharply.

Gu Changchuan walked over and picked up the receiver.

"Your domestic market is empty."

Chen Yan's voice came from the other end of the phone.

"You've played all your cards."