My teacher is Bruce Lee, who dominated Hollywood.

Chapter 4 The Debt Collector

Ted Ashley stared at the script on the table, which had been criticized to the point of being worthless, and calmly stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray.

Driven by his business instincts, he almost made the final decision on the revised version in that instant.

However, he managed to hold back in time.

In the world of Hollywood fame and fortune, whoever reveals their hand first has already lost half the battle.

Once you give in, you'll be at a disadvantage in all future negotiations regarding the director, filming, funding, box office revenue sharing, and so on.

"A very interesting idea, young man," Ashley commented noncommittally, "but it is, after all, a revolutionary change."

"I need the writing team to reassess before deciding whether to incorporate your opinion."

Bruce Lee raised an eyebrow, about to speak, when Qin Han quickly nudged his knee under the table.

"That's only right, Mr. Ashley." He smiled knowingly.

"A good script is always worth waiting for, and I believe Warner's professional screenwriters will provide us with ideas that satisfy us."

"I hope so." Ashley chuckled, pulling out a gold-plated business card and handing it to Bruce Lee. "Bruce, leave your contact information. I'll let you know immediately if anything comes up."

"I'm staying at the Lungmen Hotel." Bruce Lee copied down an address and phone number on a piece of paper and exchanged business cards.

The two stood up, said goodbye, and left the luxurious CEO's office.

As soon as he got into the car, Bruce Lee's serious face instantly lit up: "Han! What you just said really resonated with me!"

He excitedly clenched his fist, the force of which made the air in the carriage tremble.

"The distinction between 'anger' and 'punishment' was particularly brilliant!"

"Master, I was just summarizing your usual teachings." Qin Han smiled modestly. "But you, usually so easygoing and composed, why were you so impulsive today?"

Bruce Lee wagged his index finger and explained with a smile, "You don't understand, kid. When dealing with foreigners, you have to be tougher and more ruthless than them!"

This is a conclusion he reached after living in the United States for an extended period: Unlike the Chinese cultural sphere, in the United States, only the strong are respected.

If you maintain a gentle, kind, respectful, frugal, and modest character, Americans will only think you are easy to bully.

This is why Bruce Lee always had a cool and aloof expression in public.

"Enough said, it's still early. Let's go have some tea and have a good chat!"

……

Chinatown was incredibly noisy in the afternoon.

The master and apprentice chatted for a long time in a private room of a teahouse, and the sun was about to set.

Bruce Lee put down his teacup and exclaimed with delight, "Ah Han, your understanding of Jeet Kune Do has reached the point where you're ready to graduate!"

"And you even know about screenwriting? I was worried I'd be all alone on this Hollywood trip. Now that you're helping me, I'm much more confident!"

He patted Qin Han on the shoulder again: "As long as we reach an agreement, your name must be on the screenwriter's list for this movie. If not, I won't act in it."

Qin Han knew that this was a deliberate attempt to help him, and he was quite moved.

"Don't worry, Master, we'll definitely get it!"

The two chatted for a while longer before leaving the teahouse and returning to the Longmen Hotel.

Bruce Lee, still fully armed, got out of the car, said goodbye to Chin Han, and walked into the hotel lobby.

As his master's figure disappeared behind the revolving door, Qin Han's smile slowly faded, replaced by a solemn expression.

He glanced at the car's rearview mirror and saw an old black Ford sedan parked on the street corner.

"They've been following me all the way from the teahouse; it's really a headache."

What is meant to be will be. Qin Han turned the steering wheel, and the car left the bustling main road and turned into a small alley.

As expected, two motorcycles were parked across the alleyway ahead, blocking his way.

Immediately afterwards, the black Ford that had been following them drove into the alley.

The car door opened, and four or five young men wearing floral shirts and carrying baseball bats and chains surrounded it.

The leader, with a muscular face and tattoos all over his body, was "Tiger" Chen Bing, a notorious moneylender in Chinatown.

They were also the creditors of the predecessor.

Qin Han sighed, pushed open the door, and got out of the car.

"Hey, isn't this our Master Qin?"

Chen Bing walked over with a forced smile: "We've been looking for you everywhere. If we hadn't happened to see you coming out of the teahouse, we don't know how long you would have been hiding!"

Qin Han leaned casually against the car door: "Tiger, I remember the repayment deadline isn't here yet, is it?"

"Not here yet?" Chen Bing laughed loudly, and his gang of henchmen joined in the laughter.

"I only gave you two extensions for repayment because we're both Chinese! And what did you do? You've been avoiding me ever since!"

He abruptly stopped smiling and kicked the Cadillac door with a loud thud.

"If you don't pay me back, I'll have no choice but to sell you to those perverted black guys in the South District. They love Asian lads, so that might make up for some of my losses."

Sigh, the trouble caused by its predecessor was just too great.

Perhaps worried about Qin Han's skills, Chen Bing deliberately pulled up his pants, revealing half of the black gun handle tucked into his jeans.

"I know you're a good fighter, Jeet Kune Do, you're really good."

"But no matter how good your kung fu is, it's not as effective as this!"

Helpless, Qin Han raised his hands in a gesture of spreading them out, indicating that he posed no threat.

"Tiger, it's only right to pay back debts, no need to be so tense."

"I appreciate the extension you gave me; however, since the deadline hasn't arrived yet, please don't rush me. I promised to repay the money by the end of March, and I will definitely keep my word."

Chen Bing was somewhat puzzled. In the past, this martial artist would never have spoken with such tact.

If they disagree on a few words, they'll start arguing, and it might even escalate into physical violence. Otherwise, I wouldn't have forced him to bring his "weapons" as a form of intimidation.

However, he had already inquired around and found out that the kid was so poor that he could barely afford to pay his utility bills.

Paying 80,000 in two months? That's just wishful thinking.

Chen Bing's gaze fell on the red Cadillac: "No money to pay off debts, but money to drive a nice car?"

"This car looks worth a lot of money, let's use it as collateral first."

"That's my friend's car, not mine." Just as Qin Han was about to step forward to stop him, Chen Bing pulled out a pistol and pointed it at his head.

"Come to me with the money, and I'll return the car to you in perfect condition."

With a wave of his hand, one of his underlings immediately climbed into the driver's seat.

"Boom—" The red sports car's engine started up, letting out a roar.

Chen Bing patted Qin Han's chest and got into the black Ford: "Remember, this is your last chance!"

"If you can't pay back the money, you might as well go to the South District and serve those BBC members!"

Several cars sped away one after another, leaving behind a trail of exhaust fumes, leaving Qin Han standing alone under the dim streetlights.

Looking at the empty streets, he could only manage a bitter smile.

That's Lorna Barrett's car! That "Hollywood gossip queen" is obsessed with cars. If she knew her beloved car had been stolen by gangsters and used as collateral...

I rubbed my throbbing temples. It seems I can't just wait for Warner's contract any longer.

We must get some money as soon as possible.

But first, he had to find a way to explain to Rona why the car he lent her for picking people up had suddenly disappeared.