Perhaps that wasn't explained clearly enough, so let's clarify once more:
For print sales between 99 and 120 copies, China Film purchased them at a minimum price of 900,000 yuan and a maximum price of 1,080,000 yuan. Outside this range, whether higher or lower, China Film purchased them at a flat rate of 990,000 yuan.
For instance, if a film sold 200 prints, China Film spent only 990,000 yuan, turning a handsome profit.
Yet if another film managed to sell a mere 5 prints, China Film was still obligated to buy it for 990,000 yuan.
The original idea was to let the blockbusters subsidize the flops to maintain balance. But domestic films lacked commercial appeal, and most couldn't move copies, leaving China Film to absorb the losses alone.
…………
Hong Kong cinema was dominated by four great stunt teams: the Jackie Chan Stunt Team, the Sammo Hung Stunt Team, the Lau Kar-leung Stunt Team, and the Yuen Clan Stunt Team.
The founder of the Yuen Clan Stunt Team was Yuen Siu-tien. Born and raised in Beijing, he had trained in Peking opera before moving to Hong Kong in 1937.
He had seven children, with Yuen Woo-ping being the second eldest. Frail and sickly from childhood, Woo-ping had never truly mastered martial prowess, yet he had a brilliant mind and an exceptional grasp of theory. The Drunken Eight Immortals routine in *Drunken Master*, for instance, was something he had choreographed himself after leafing through a few martial arts manuals.
In later years, the so-called "secret sect transmissions" of the Drunken Eight Immortals all traced their roots back to this very movie—a complete reversal of cause and effect.
In short, Yuen Woo-ping was much like Wang Yuyan.
He began working as an action director in 1970, rising to fame with *Snake in the Eagle's Shadow* and *Drunken Master*. Catching the eye of Golden Harvest, he was granted the opportunity to establish a satellite production company called Peace Film Production.
At this moment, the brothers of the Yuen Clan Stunt Team were crowded into a cramped office, buzzing with excitement.
"The Hung team has Sammo Hung, the Chan team has Jackie Chan, and the Lau team has Lau Kar-leung—they're all huge stars! Look at us, every one of us looks odd and funny, yet we're opening our own company!"
"Running a company means making big money! We've hit the jackpot!"
"Don't get ahead of yourselves. A company has to make movies. We're a modest outfit; if one picture flopped, we'd have to shut our doors!"
"Speaking of which, what should our maiden project actually be?"
"Think hard! Our first outing has to be a smash hit right out of the gate, or we'll open today and be out of work tomorrow!"
Everyone chattered at once. They had clear strengths: unmatched mastery in action choreography. But they had glaring weaknesses too: not a single marketable star, only behind-the-scenes crew. As their leader, Yuen Woo-ping held his tongue, simply watching them debate with an easy smile.
Starting a business! Nothing gave a man a greater sense of achievement.
As the discussion raged, someone rushed in to announce, "Someone from Great Wall is here!"
*Swish!*
The room went cold in an instant. Even Yuen Woo-ping felt a pang of fluster. "Quick, invite him in!"
Shortly after, a man walked in. Yuen Woo-ping ushered him into the inner room, speaking with a touch of helplessness: "Mister, I've already made my stance clear. What brings you back?"
"To talk business. No need to be nervous."
*Nonsense!*
*How could I not be nervous?!*
*You people stage assassinations and plant bombs—people actually die!*
Jin Yong was a giant in Hong Kong, wasn't he?
Back then, even he had been so terrified that he fled with his entire family to Singapore.
When had the entertainment circle ever witnessed such terror? Those so-called tough guys and triad bosses were nothing compared to this. Consequently, Hong Kong celebrities dared offend neither Taiwan nor the Leftists.
Moreover, many Hong Kong stars had started out under leftist banners in their early days and would secretly lend a hand under pseudonyms.
Yuen Woo-ping was in the same boat. When invited to serve as the action director for *Tai Chi*, he hadn't dared refuse outright. Instead, he had tripled his quote in hopes of scaring them off. Who would have thought they would return today?
"I came for two things. You previously asked for a fee of one hundred thousand Hong Kong dollars, correct?"
"Correct!"
"They agreed!"
*Pfft!*
Yuen Woo-ping had remarkably large eyes, which had earned him the nickname 'Big Eyes.' Now, they bulged like a goldfish's, nearly popping from their sockets. "They agreed?"
"Yes. It was the price you set; you wouldn't go back on your word, would you?"
"I..."
Yuen Woo-ping was utterly dumbfounded, fully understanding what it meant to ride a tiger with no way off. He had named the price himself, and the other party had accepted. If he didn't go, how could he ever show his face in the industry again? Gritting his teeth on the spot, he said, "You joke, sir. Of course I stand by it."
"Splendid! The second matter: we are currently developing a project and would like to invite you as the action director for that as well. But our studio has never produced this genre before; we simply find it intriguing. I brought some materials along and would like you to see if it's feasible."
The man fished out a stack of manuscript paper and handed it over.
"*The Miracle Fighters*?"
Yuen Woo-ping accepted it, his eyes lighting up at the title. Then he saw several illustrations. The very first showed a jar person—eerie, bizarre, and terrifying, yet strangely possessing an odd touch of whimsy.
Reading the accompanying text, his heart skipped a beat.
He hastily flipped to the second and third pages: a mural trickling with real water, a flying roasted chicken, mystical arts that turned folded paper into sharp blades...
Hong Kong kung fu cinema had broadly undergone three phases:
The Shaw Brothers era, which emphasized trading blows move for move, authentic stances, and steady footing, moving so slowly it resembled morning calisthenics.
The transition phase, where the most noticeable shift was a faster tempo and increasingly elaborate choreography.
The Tsui Hark era, which took flight into the heavens and dived into the earth—free-spirited, poetic wuxia.
The late 1970s to early 1980s was precisely that transition phase. Jackie Chan had already carved out his own comedic path, and Sammo Hung could carry the box office on his own shoulders. During this period, another subgenre emerged: supernatural kung fu films!
It blended folklore—ghosts, hopping vampires, and Taoist priests—with martial arts. The pioneering work of this genre would be *Encounter of the Spooky Kind*, slated for release at the end of the year.
Right now, it didn't even exist yet!
Yuen Woo-ping possessed a keen eye for scripts and instantly recognized the immense value of what lay before him. Above all, it was novel. Audiences had never seen anything like it, meaning the chances of a runaway box-office hit were exceptionally high.
"Well? Can you design choreography in this style?"
"I can!"
Yuen Woo-ping paused, unable to hold back: "Pardon my asking, but is your company actually able to produce a movie of this type?"
"We've already stated in the press: the Mainland is pursuing reform and opening up, liberating thought, and we in the film industry are the vanguard. The studio fell on hard times in recent years, but now we are striving to restore our former glory.
"Of course, I can't guarantee anything. It's movie-making—you understand how it goes.
"It might go into production, or it might fall through. If it is greenlit, we hope you'll lend us your talents. I know your reservations; you can use a pseudonym. An action director works behind the scenes, so there aren't as many restrictions."
*Don't let it fall through!*
Yuen Woo-ping felt a surge of urgency. What a brilliant premise! And it suited the Yuen Clan Stunt Team down to the ground. If they could use this as their maiden production, it would be an absolute triumph.
"Very well, I won't take up more of your time. When *Tai Chi* begins filming in Beijing, I'll notify you to head north."
The man took his leave.
He left behind a seed that scratched and tickled at Yuen Woo-ping's heart. He doubted the leftists could actually produce a movie like this—it bordered on feudal superstition, something virtually unprecedented for them. If it ended up shelved, what a dreadful waste!
He turned it over and over in his mind, consulting with his brothers.
A few days passed.
Word arrived from the man again: *The Miracle Fighters* had failed final approval and was rejected internally by the studio.
Yuen Woo-ping couldn't wait any longer. He secretly arranged a meeting with the man and said, "Sir, since your company isn't making it, would you be willing to transfer the rights to me? I'll buy them at market price, and I'll make sure to remember this favor... Oh, and regarding *Tai Chi*, I'm willing to head north for a discounted, friendly rate."
……
*The Miracle Fighters*, released in 1982, directed by Yuen Woo-ping, produced by Peace Film Production!
The original had been a brilliant film. In later years, a remake was put together—a collaboration between Yuen Woo-ping and Tsui Hark starring Zhou Dongyu, Ni Ni, and Wu Bai—which turned out to be an absolute disaster.
When the news reached Beijing, Chen Qi was delighted.
This wasn't plagiarism; this was using what was theirs to serve his own ends.
If he wanted domestic films to venture overseas, dealing with Hong Kong was unavoidable. Among that crowd, perhaps only one percent held genuine ideological convictions—people like Xu Xiaoming and Liza Wang, who leaned toward the Mainland.
Then there was an eccentric named Stanley Fung, best known for the *Lucky Stars* series.
He hated the Mainland and despised Hong Kong in equal measure, proudly identifying as a "Guangdong native of the Republic of China." Decades later, upon hearing that Taiwan planned to dismantle the Bald Head's mausoleum, he had actually led a large group to guard the tomb, ready to lay down his life for the cause.
Regardless of whether one considered him unhinged, that too counted as a conviction.
As for the remaining ninety-nine percent? They held no convictions—only market interests.
Across thousands of li, Chen Qi was making his moves on Hong Kong. "Bandit-affiliated filmmakers" like Xu Xiaoming, Liza Wang, Tony Leung Ka-fai, and Liang Xiaolong had to be brought over, along with those who were relatively harmless, such as Yuen Woo-ping. In due time, they would all prove useful.
Chapter 84