"Mr. Lin, this is the final audited profit statement for New England Sports Data Company last year."
The finance manager carefully pushed a report in front of Lin Qi.
"Our nominal revenue for the year was $1.38 million. However... after deducting all bills, team salaries, and taxes at all levels, our actual net profit on paper was only $180,000."
$180,000.
In Boston in 1996, this amount of money would have been enough to buy a nice middle-class villa in the suburbs. But in the face of those ruthless copyright giants in Hollywood, this meager amount of cash wasn't even enough to hire top lawyers to conduct a full asset investigation.
To make matters worse, in order to poach the core members of the team, Lin Qi had previously diluted his equity, and he currently effectively controls 72% of the shares.
Provided that the company's daily cash flow is not drained and the company does not go bankrupt, he can only take less than $40,000 in company dividends this time.
$40,000 is barely enough to buy toilet paper in Hollywood.
Lin Qi stared at the glaring numbers marked in red on the report and gave a self-deprecating twitch at the corner of his mouth.
He personally built this data company back in 1995. In an era when most NBA teams in the United States were still using videotapes and focusing solely on points and rebounds, his company was already using advanced algorithmic models to dissect high-level data for the Celtics like a scalpel.
In addition, they also work part-time providing customized live streaming data packages for several local television stations, including Fox, and incidentally helping traditional banks in Boston use algorithms to predict the sales of season tickets and VIP boxes.
This should have been the perfect prototype for a groundbreaking technology giant.
Lin Qi originally thought that this money-printing machine, which was ahead of its time, had been running for several quarters and should be able to squeeze out a large sum of cash, giving him the confidence to go to Hollywood and easily redeem the script for " Good Will Hunting ".
But reality gave him a harsh dose of reality.
The Good Will Hunting project... should we put it on hold for now?
"Once the second installment from Fox Television arrives in the second quarter, our working capital will be significantly increased..."
"I can't wait any longer."
Without any hesitation, Lin Qi reached for the vintage American telephone on the table and dialed the private number of the top executive in the private banking division of Bank of Boston.
"I am Lin Qi."
"I need a short-term loan of $1.8 million with an 18-month term. I'd like to go through the special channel to your loan committee this afternoon."
There was a brief silence on the other end of the phone, followed by the characteristic calm probing of a seasoned financial professional. "Mr. Lin, this is a significant amount for a personal loan. What is your collateral?"
"All accounts receivable contracts of my data company, and my personal 72% original equity stake."
At 3 p. m. that day, in the VIP conference room on the top floor of a bank in Boston's financial district.
Three risk control committee members, dressed in custom-made three-piece suits and exuding an air of conservative dogmatism, sat upright. They pushed up their gold-rimmed glasses, repeatedly flipping through the pitiful profit and loss statement, their faces unusually pale as if they had swallowed a fly.
With an annual profit of 180,000, he asked for a loan of 1.8 million, intending to plunge this hard-earned money into the black hole of Hollywood movies, where survival is a near-certain death. In the rigid risk control models of banks in the 1990s, this was practically a textbook example of loan fraud.
Five minutes later, the credit manager took a deep breath and closed the pen cap.
"Mr. Lin, your proposed company valuation of $9 million is absolutely unacceptable within the banking system."
"Okay, give me your numbers." Lin Qi wanted efficiency, not bureaucratic wrangling.
"We'll calculate based on $8 million. You hold 72% of the equity, which is worth $5.76 million. However, since this is equity in a privately held company, it's practically unsellable. We have to offer it at 70% of the market value, as is customary in the industry."
Lin Qi remained expressionless, not even blinking.
"At a 30% discount, that's $1.728 million. Add to that the outstanding contracts with those TV stations you have, which we can use as collateral, and we can make an exception and grant you the maximum limit of $1.8 million."
The loan officer looked up, his aged eyes gleaming with the shrewdness and ruthlessness of a usurer.
"Annual interest rate of 11.5%, 18-month term. Additionally, we need to add a special clause... If you repay early, there will be a 2% penalty."
An interest rate of 11.5% is practically leeching off businesses.
But Lin Qi still signed his name on the agreement without hesitation, his handwriting flowing freely.
Three days later, the $1.8 million loan arrived in the account.
Of that, $1 million was to be paid directly to the production company as a script transfer fee and compensation for early development, which was to be negotiated by lawyers.
The remaining $800,000 was deposited into a dedicated, separate account for the film.
Lin Qi called Matt Damon and Ben Affleck to his office, and also invited Mark Wahlberg.
"From today onwards, you two, stop taking on those lousy roles to pay rent, and stop trying out those terrible films that will ruin your image just to make ends meet. From now on, you only need to do one thing."
Matt's voice tightened slightly. "What?"
"Rewrite the script." Lin Qi pushed the script back in front of them. "Rewrite it until Robin Williams is willing to sit down and talk to us after he's read it."
Ben was taken aback for a moment. "You're looking for Robin? The famous Robin Williams?"
"Certainly."
Mark Wahlberg, sitting nearby, whistled. "That's Robin Williams, a top Hollywood star."
Lin Qi turned to him. "You have a role too."
Mark's flippant expression gradually faded.
Lin Qi said, "You're not a lead actor, and you won't steal the spotlight from Matt and Ben. You'll play the more impulsive, ruthless, and street-thug-like brother to the main character. It's not a big role, but you need to be memorable."
Mark stopped chewing his gum.
Lin Qi continued, "The fee is $150,000. In addition, I'll give you an endorsement contract for a sportswear brand, a $200,000 signing bonus, plus 4% of the net sales of your personal line."
"You don't need to pretend to be the gentleman Hollywood likes."
"You just need to bring that raw, gritty energy from the streets of Boston into the movie."
There was a moment of silence in the office.
The person next to him was the first to react. "Wait, you're going to start a clothing brand?"
Lin Qi nodded.
One week later, in San Francisco.
The damp, cold sea breeze from the Pacific Ocean, carrying with it the iconic thick fog, plunged the Golden Gate Bridge into a vast expanse of white mist.
In front of a highly secluded private villa, Lin Qi used only one sentence to persuade the Hollywood superstar to make an exception and open the door.
"Tell Mr. Williams to open the door; I'm here to deliver his Oscar statuette."
In the private reception room, the pine wood in the fireplace crackled and popped.
Robin Williams sank into the heavy leather sofa, his face, usually brimming with the comedic genius's signature slightly neurotic expression, now etched with a deathly silence.
He had been in this position for two whole hours, flipping through the pages.
When he read the classic monologue about "love, loss, and war" delivered by the traumatized psychiatrist sitting on a park bench by the Charles River to the arrogant young genius, one of Hollywood's highest-paid actors' eyes welled up slightly.
He remained silent throughout, only his rough fingertips repeatedly tracing the edge of the slightly rough page of the script.
After a long while, Robin slowly closed the script. He took off his gold-rimmed glasses, and his blue eyes, which had seen through the hustle and bustle of the world of fame and fortune, stared intently at Lin Qi, his voice hoarse but resolute.
"This is a miracle, Lin. It's not Hollywood assembly-line fast food; this is a truly living story."
Business is business, and art is art.
When Robin expressed strong interest, his chief agent quickly intervened and, in the adjacent business negotiation room, presented Lin Qi with an exorbitant price tag reserved for Hollywood A-list stars.
In 1996 Hollywood, thanks to a series of globally blockbuster films such as " Aladdin " and " Jumanji," Robin's regular salary had already easily exceeded $15 million.
"Mr. Lin, given that you have an independent production company and Robin himself is extremely fond of this script, he is willing to make significant concessions to support young filmmakers."
The agent picked up his coffee and offered what he thought was an irresistible "discount price" that Lin Qi couldn't refuse, even one that sounded a bit like charity.
"A guaranteed base salary of $5 million. In addition, we need to sign a tiered box office performance agreement in the contract—once the North America box office exceeds $60 million, Robin will take a fixed percentage of the net box office revenue in tiers."
"I'll sign for the guaranteed $5 million salary."
Lin Qi's voice was extremely calm, even carrying a hint of unfathomable relaxation, "I'll also give you the tiered revenue share after the North America box office surpasses $60 million. Not only that, I can make the terms even more generous... If this film miraculously manages to break $100 million at the North America box office, I can increase Mr. Williams's share by another two percentage points in the later stages."
Upon hearing this, even Robin Williams, who was sitting to the side, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and chuckle.
"Oh, Lin, you sound much more generous than those Hollywood producers who'd rather skimp on a gallon of gas. I'm starting to like rich guys from Boston."
"But I have one condition... all subsequent box office revenue sharing is capped at $20 million."
The agent paused for a moment, then leaned back in his chair and chuckled as if he'd heard the funniest joke in the world, "Mr. Lin, a $20 million cap? Do you know what that means? According to our agreed-upon revenue sharing, this cap will only take effect if this art film, which only cost $10 million to make, skyrockets to an unbelievable $130 million or more at the North America box office!"
The agent shook his head, looking at Lin Qi as if he were a sports nouveau riche who knew nothing about movies.
"In Hollywood history, aside from those blockbuster films crammed with special effects and superstars, no serious drama about a poor Boston boy and a psychiatrist has ever come close to a $100 million box office. Your cap is meaningless."
Of course they didn't know.
In its original timeline, Good Will Hunting, written by Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, was projected to gross a staggering $138 million in the US and $225 million worldwide, becoming one of the most profitable films in history.
"You could interpret this as a businessman's obsessive-compulsive disorder."
Lin Qi slowly stood up, buttoned his trench coat with one hand, and looked down at the two Hollywood veterans.
Robin stared at him for a few seconds, then picked up his pen and signed the contract.
Only once Robin Williams officially signs with a contract will overseas publishers in London, Paris, Tokyo, and Munich be willing to sit down at the negotiating table and offer a guaranteed purchase price in advance.
Those overseas pre-sale contracts are the hard currency collateral that major banks truly recognize.
Three days later, Fox Searchlight Pictures expressed its intention to distribute the film in North America, and overseas sales agents also received the first batch of pre-sale offers.
The total amount isn't outrageous, but it's enough to completely open the doors of banks...
$12 million in overseas box office guarantees.
The film production guarantee program has officially begun. The bank has approved an $8.5 million loan for Lin Qi to start filming, based on a 70% loan ratio.
Lin Qi didn't let the money sit in the account for even a day longer.
As soon as the first payment arrived, he first paid off the previous $1.8 million high-interest loan and immediately released the pledge on 72% of the data company's equity and contracts.
The remaining funds were all locked in a production trust account.
When Lin Qi returned to Boston with the release documents, the CFO stared at the intact share certificate, speechless for a long time.
Thirteen days ago, they were still worried about not being able to raise the $40,000 dividend.
Thirteen days later, the data company's shares had been redeemed intact from the bank, and the production account for Good Will Hunting held millions of dollars in cash.
Lin Qi put the file in the drawer and looked up at Matt, Ben, and Mark.
The script is back.
"The money has arrived."
"Now, it's your turn to prove you deserve this story."
There was one more thing Lin Qi didn't say.
Every dollar you earn for me will one day become my trump card in buying the Boston Celtics.