Yanjing International Airport.
Lin Yuan and Mr. Eisen walked forward side by side.
The flight from New York had taken thirteen hours, but after getting a good sleep in first class, it had not felt long at all.
The studio had booked the tickets. A first-class ticket cost twenty thousand dollars. Compared to Lin Yuan's straitened circumstances when he had last gone to Hong Kong Island, things truly had changed beyond recognition.
"Lin Yuan, do you really value this film that much? Are you determined to get it?" Mr. Eisen asked.
"Mr. Eisen, from your perspective, becoming a world-class action star may only require conquering the European and American market."
"Of course. Isn't that so?"
"Maybe now, but not in the future."
"The future? Go on."
At that moment, Mr. Eisen appeared quite open to advice, but everyone who knew him understood the stubbornness and pride buried deep within the old man's bones.
If anyone else had said such things to Mr. Eisen, he would only have politely told them to get lost, then blacklisted them in his mind for good.
But when Lin Yuan expressed a differing opinion, Mr. Eisen would consider it seriously.
Because over the past period, Lin Yuan had repeatedly proven through his actions that he was right.
"China has the largest population in the world, and its economy will rise rapidly over the coming decades. Its box office will inevitably surpass North America's and become the world's largest market. If we're building for the future, we must secure the domestic market," Lin Yuan explained.
This was all something he had seen in the future. It was a certainty.
But saying it from the standpoint of 2001 made it somewhat hard to believe.
After all, the box office of any random Hollywood blockbuster could now exceed