31-35

Chapter 31: Apartment Neighbors

In the morning, after finishing his jog on Wilshire Boulevard, Link headed to the fitness center inside the Golden Oak Apartments for a workout.

Although the Golden Oak Apartments were considered mid-to-high-end, they had excellent amenities.

Within the apartment complex, there was a restaurant, a medical center, and a large indoor gym. The public areas also featured a tennis court.

Additionally, Wilshire Boulevard had plenty of fitness clubs, and the Franklin Aquatic Center was not far away.

Living here made staying fit very convenient.

As a director, maintaining good health was also important.

Now that he had settled in, Link planned to enhance his workout routine—he couldn't let that 10% stamina boost go to waste.

“Hey, Link! You’re Director Link, right?”

While sweating through a workout on the cable machine in the fitness center, a familiar face suddenly popped up beside him, giving him an appraising look.

The man appeared to be in his early thirties, with slicked-back golden-brown hair. He wore a floral shirt over a white tank top, along with gray athletic shorts. A yellow towel was draped around his neck, and his face was covered in sweat.

Even though he looked a bit younger than Link remembered, he still recognized him at a glance—future comedy legend Jim Carrey, often referred to as the "Hollywood Stephen Chow."

However, at this point, Jim Carrey was only a borderline second-tier actor.

His most notable work so far was the TV sketch show In Living Color, which focused on African American life. He played the second male lead, a quirky white guy with an over-the-top comedic style reminiscent of Hong Kong's “nonsensical” humor. This unique approach had quickly made him a rising name in Hollywood.

"Hello, Mr. Carrey! It's great to meet you here," Link said, wiping his palms with a towel before reaching out for a handshake.

Jim Carrey's actual first name was "Jim," which was quite common in America.

"Ha! Director Link, it’s great to see you here too! Do you live in this building?" Carrey asked, gripping Link’s hand in return.

"Yes, I just moved in."

"That’s awesome! I live on the eighth floor of Building D. Do you like playing tennis? We should play sometime. Or basketball, if you’re into that."

"Sounds great! Either one works for me."

After exchanging a few more words, Jim Carrey waved goodbye and hopped onto a treadmill nearby.

When he spoke, he had the same lively, goofy energy as in his movies. But when he wasn’t talking, his face took on a melancholic, even cold intensity.

What a complex person.

At 9 AM, Link finished his workout.

As he stepped out of the gym, he spotted a man in the distance who bore a striking resemblance to James Cameron.

The man looked to be in his forties—tall, lean, and unshaven. He was deep in conversation with a woman beside him. Before Link could say hello, the two of them stepped into an elevator together.

It really was James Cameron, the renowned director. The woman at his side was Linda Hamilton, the lead actress from last year’s blockbuster Terminator 2—and Cameron’s future fourth wife.

Link glanced up at the surrounding apartment buildings. Running into two future superstars in one morning made him realize that this complex was full of hidden talent.

After breakfast, Link drove to GuessWhat Pictures on Hollywood Boulevard.

The only ones who had arrived before him were CEO Michael Leeson and Chris Bauer.

Today, the bodybuilder was dressed more formally than usual. He wore a Hugo Boss blue pinstripe shirt paired with gray slacks and polished pointed-toe dress shoes.

The clothes and shoes looked new—he had probably bought them after leaving the mansion yesterday.

However, the shirt seemed a size too small. His muscular arms and chest stretched the fabric, and combined with his thick eyebrows and broad nose, the look felt somewhat mismatched.

"Link, you’re here."

"Why so early?" Link greeted Michael Leeson and stepped into his office.

"I feel like I can’t go back," Bauer said with a sigh. "After seeing your mansion, my apartment feels like a doghouse. I really, really want to make money now—enough to buy a house in Beverly Hills. Or at least rent one."

"Take your time. You’ll get there," Link reassured him.

"Oh, by the way, here’s your mail. Lucy asked me to bring it to you."

Chris Bauer handed him a FedEx envelope.

"Go find Michael Leeson and get your onboarding paperwork done. There’s a lot going on at the company right now—jump in and help wherever you can. We’ll figure out your specific role later."

"Got it, I’ll do whatever you need."

With that, Chris Bauer shut the door and left the office.

Link used a letter opener to slice open the package. Inside was a document from Tor Books, the largest science fiction publisher in the United States.

Four months ago, Link had submitted two short sci-fi stories to Tor Books, hoping to earn some extra startup money.

But after sending them in, he received no response at all.

Now, after more than four months, Tor Books had finally written back.

The letter was from Liz Glinski, the publisher's associate editor.

In it, she praised his two sci-fi stories, Source Code and The Man from Earth, calling them outstanding works. Tor Books was interested in publishing them.

Since he hadn’t included a phone number in his submission, Liz hoped he would call as soon as he received the letter.

Link checked the postmark—it had been sent from New York last Wednesday.

Tor Books' response time was ridiculously slow.

He had heard that when Mistborn author Brandon Sanderson submitted his debut novel Elantris to Tor Books, they took an entire year before calling him to say it had been accepted.

Link set the letter down, leaned back in his chair, and dialed the number listed in the letter.

After a brief wait, Liz Glinski’s secretary picked up and transferred the call to her office.

"Hello, is this Mr. Link?" A warm, magnetic voice came through the receiver.

"Hello, Editor Glinski, this is Link."

"Thank God! Mr. Link, we finally got in touch with you!"

Liz Glinski sounded so excited, as if she had just found a long-lost child after years of searching.

In reality, Tor Books had simply taken more than four months to respond to his submission, with complete radio silence in between.

"Mr. Link, your two stories are incredibly fresh and imaginative. Reading them felt like watching a vivid sci-fi blockbuster—not only thrilling but also thought-provoking. I absolutely love them.

We’d like to publish them next month. If you agree, I can arrange for someone to meet with you and sign the publishing contract immediately. What do you think?"

"Editor Glinski, I’m delighted that you enjoyed my stories. I’d love to work with Tor Books."

Receiving such high praise from Liz Glinski was both surprising and gratifying.

He had never actually read the original works of The Man from Earth or Source Code. When writing them, he had relied on the movies, adding his own philosophical insights and expanding the details and narration—raising their originality to over 30%.

He hadn’t expected them to catch Liz Glinski’s eye.

Tor Books was one of the most prestigious sci-fi publishers in the world.

They were known for their rigorous review process, requiring originality, creativity, and strict adherence to logical storytelling. Their acceptance rate was rumored to be less than one in ten thousand.

However, works published by Tor Books were almost always of high quality, frequently winning Hugo and Nebula Awards. The company had nurtured many successful sci-fi authors—including, eventually, The Three-Body Problem.

Liz Glinski herself was a well-respected figure in the sci-fi literary world, not just as an editor but also as a writer and award judge.

Earning her approval meant Source Code and The Man from Earth had truly been well adapted.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter 32: Temporary Assistant

"Great, Mr. Link! I'd like to talk to you about the creation of two novels. Do you have some time?" asked Editor-in-Chief Grinsky.

Link glanced at his watch. He wasn’t busy at the moment, so he took the call and chatted with Editor-in-Chief Grinsky about his creative inspirations and motivations.

During the call, he proactively introduced himself as Link, the director of Buried Alive, and explained that his inspiration for writing science fiction novels stemmed from his experience in filmmaking.

Liz Grinsky had never watched Buried Alive, but she had read about it in newspapers and was aware of Link’s reputation as a director.

Upon realizing that Link was a renowned filmmaker, Grinsky became even more enthusiastic and asked if he had any additional works. If so, he suggested compiling them into a science fiction anthology.

Link mentioned that he had several works in progress and planned to adapt films like Interstellar, Gravity, and The Martian into novels.

Editor-in-Chief Grinsky expressed his eagerness to read Link’s new works and encouraged him to submit them to the publishing house as soon as possible.

"Alright, Mr. Grinsky. Once I finish writing them, I’ll send the manuscripts to the publisher."

After hanging up the phone, Link looked up at the door.

"Come in!"

The office door opened, and Liu Xiaoli walked in.

She was dressed more formally than yesterday, wearing a white blouse tucked into a high-waisted dark gray pencil skirt, which accentuated her graceful figure. On her feet were a pair of white mid-heeled shoes.

Her long black hair was neatly pinned up at the back of her head.

Her eyebrows were delicately shaped, her lips painted a soft strawberry color.

Compared to yesterday, she looked younger, more radiant, and well put-together—exuding both the gentle elegance of a mature woman and the vibrant energy of a young girl.

"Link, are you busy?"

Liu Xiaoli stood gracefully at the door, smiling.

"Not at all! Xiaoli, you look stunning today. No, actually, you always look stunning. It's rare to see someone with such an elegant Eastern charm here in the U.S. Every time I see you, I can’t help but be amazed."

"Amazed every time? What am I, a lightbulb? Flashing non-stop?"

Liu Xiaoli rolled her eyes playfully. When silent, she had the grace of a woman from a Jiangnan water town, but when she spoke, she had the fiery wit of a Sichuan native.

"Xiaoli, how come you’re here today? Where’s Xixi? Where are you staying?"

Link stepped away from his desk and invited her to sit in the lounge area.

"I had nothing planned today, so I decided to come over. Xixi is with Aunt Pei. I asked her to watch over her for the day."

"Have you checked out the company yet? It’s a new startup—our office isn’t very big, and we only have seven or eight employees for now."

"The company looks great! The office is spacious, and it’s close to Hollywood Boulevard. The environment is much better than I expected."

She smiled as she spoke, clearly satisfied with the office location.

"Have you decided what kind of work you want to do?"

Link poured her a cup of tea.

"How about being your assistant? I might not be good at anything else, but I can definitely handle that."

"I’m afraid being an assistant might not suit you."

"Why not?"

"The job of an assistant is very demanding—it involves making coffee, organizing documents, answering calls, scheduling work, and sometimes even traveling to film sets. There are times when I’ll be shooting for months, and you’ll have to stay on set with me."

"I can do all of that. I’m not some pampered princess—what’s a little hard work?" Liu Xiaoli said confidently.

"It’s not just about hard work. Don’t forget, you’re a mother. You have a four- or five-year-old daughter who needs your care. This is America, not home, and you don’t have family around to help. You’re the only one who can truly take care of her."

"You’re right… If I’m away too long, Xixi might feel scared. I didn’t expect you to be so thoughtful."

"Thanks for the compliment. How about this—you could try working in finance or assisting Michael in managing company affairs."

"Finance? You mean accounting? But I don’t know how to manage finances, and I know nothing about running a company. I only know how to dance… Link, do you think I’m useless?"

Liu Xiaoli lowered her head, looking embarrassed.

"I’m the same way—aside from making movies, I don’t know much else. How about this: I do need an assistant right now. You can start in that role for a while, get familiar with the company, and later move to a position that suits you better. I’ll be in Los Angeles for a while, so you’ll have time to take care of Xixi."

"Alright, it’s settled then. Thank you, Link!"

Liu Xiaoli held the teacup, her bright, expressive eyes shimmering. Now that she had a job, she seemed visibly relieved, her entire demeanor radiating joy.

"Are we toasting with tea now? Cheers!"

Link clinked his cup against hers and asked about her living arrangements.

Since she would be working here, it was best to rent an apartment nearby—for convenience and safety. Beverly Hills and West Hollywood had much better security compared to other areas of Los Angeles.

Just last month, due to the Rodney King incident, violent riots broke out in South Central Los Angeles, including Florence and Normandy Avenue, as well as Koreatown. Many stores were looted and burned, with over 600 fire incidents recorded.

The riots resulted in 53 deaths, over 10,000 arrests, and an estimated $1 billion in property damage.

This was America.

This was one of the reasons why Link was eager to earn more money and move to Beverly Hills—safer neighborhoods meant a safer life.

"I came over today to check out the company first. After that, I’ll look for a place nearby."

"Do you want me to help? I recently bought a house and got to know a reliable real estate agent."

"Really? Would that be okay? I don’t want to trouble you."

Liu Xiaoli’s eyes sparkled with delight, her smile brimming with gratitude.

"It’s no trouble at all—just a quick phone call. Do you have enough money? If not, I can advance you six months' salary."

"I have a few thousand dollars, which should be enough for me and Xixi to live in LA for a few months."

"If you ever need more, you can take an advance or borrow from me. We don’t overcomplicate lending money."

"I understand."

Liu Xiaoli lowered her head slightly, looking delicate and vulnerable.

Link picked up his phone and called real estate agent Alan Herbert, asking him to recommend a few well-located, move-in-ready rentals.

"Xiaoli, come to the office tomorrow. We’ll finalize the rental then. Once you’ve settled your living arrangements, you can start working."

"Alright, I’ll do as you say."

She gazed at him, her voice soft and warm.

Link then called Michael Leeson into his office and introduced him to Liu Xiaoli.

For now, she would be his assistant, and later, she would transition into an administrative role with Michael’s guidance.

"Got it, boss!"

Michael took Liu Xiaoli to tour the company and explain her responsibilities.

Shortly after, Michael returned to the office.

"Boss, can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

Link set down his pen.

"What’s your relationship with Miss Liu? Are you relatives or… something else?"

"We’re friends. Treat her like any other employee. Assign her tasks, and if she makes mistakes, hold her accountable."

"Understood, boss."

Michael nodded and left the office.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter 33: Teaching Monica

In the afternoon, Monica Bellucci arrived at Guess Film Productions. Standing at the entrance of the film company, she gazed at the "Guess" logo with a hint of confusion in her eyes, wondering why the company was named "Guess."

"Welcome! Hello, may I ask who you're looking for?"

Liu Xiaoli, who was idly passing time in the office, suddenly noticed a woman walking in. She quickly approached and greeted her.

However, as she took a closer look at the woman's face and figure, even though Liu Xiaoli herself was a beauty, she couldn't help but feel a moment of amazement.

The woman had the refined, well-defined features typical of Western women, a tall and elegant figure, and mature, voluptuous curves—reminiscent of the full-bodied, soft beauty seen in Italian Renaissance paintings.

She wore no makeup, was dressed casually in a simple T-shirt and blue jeans, and had thick, curly hair cascading over her shoulders. Holding a small crossbody bag in one hand, she exuded not only beauty but also a natural sense of style and elegance.

"Hello, is Director Link here? I’m Monica Bellucci. I had an appointment with him yesterday."

"Hello, Miss Monica. Please follow me."

Liu Xiaoli gestured politely, leading Monica toward Link’s office.

Monica Bellucci walked slightly behind Liu Xiaoli, just one step apart. As they moved forward, she took a few moments to observe the woman leading the way.

This woman had an East Asian appearance, with a tall and slender frame. Her delicate and graceful features carried the unique charm of Eastern women—refined and elegant, like an exquisite piece of fine Chinese porcelain, pleasing to the eye.

"Miss, are you Director Link’s assistant?"

"Yes, I’m currently serving as his assistant. My last name is Liu."

"Nice to meet you, Miss Liu."

"Miss Bellucci, are you an actress?"

"Yes, I hope to become a true actress."

"You can do it. You're very beautiful."

"Thank you, you're very beautiful too."

When they reached Link’s office, Liu Xiaoli lightly knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

"Link, Miss Monica Bellucci is here."

Liu Xiaoli led Monica inside, then closed the door behind her and stepped out. However, as soon as she did, she suddenly remembered that it was the assistant’s responsibility to serve refreshments when a guest arrived.

She hesitated at the door for a moment, then knocked again and asked if Link and Monica would like something to drink.

"No need, there’s a fridge here. Xiaoli, since there’s not much work to do in the office this afternoon, you can leave early. Be careful on your way home."

"Alright, then I’ll head out."

Liu Xiaoli waved and shut the office door.

Inside the office, Link picked up a handheld video camera, pressed the record button, and placed it on the desk.

The camera lens was aimed at the center of the office.

"Monica, let’s run through the lines first."

Both Link and Monica held a copy of the script and began practicing their lines in the office.

The story of Paranormal Activity was simple. A young couple, Katie and Micah, move into a large suburban home. However, after a few days, they begin to suspect that something sinister is lurking in the house.

Every night, strange and inexplicable noises can be heard.

To uncover the truth, the male lead, Micah, buys several cameras and places them in their bedroom, hoping to capture footage of the supernatural entity. But as events unfold, things spiral out of control.

The female lead, Katie, becomes possessed at night, frequently sleepwalks, and ultimately kills her husband, Micah, in her sleep.

This film didn’t rely on excessive gore or severed limbs. Instead, its horror stemmed from eerie sounds and unsettling footage captured by the cameras.

The found-footage style of filming preserved the raw authenticity of real-time footage, making it easier for audiences to immerse themselves in the experience and fuel their imagination.

This was what made Paranormal Activity so terrifying.

*"Honey, what’s wrong?"*

During the scene rehearsal, Link stood in the middle of the office, holding a small handheld camera aimed at Monica Bellucci.

In the script, the male lead films his girlfriend, Katie, as she returns home in her car.

To make their performance more authentic, Link and Monica acted out the scene as if they were actually in the film, mimicking the characters' actions in an imaginary setting.

*"What is that?"*

Monica Bellucci sat on the couch, tilting her head to study the camera.

*"Hey there, sweetheart!"*

*"That thing… it wouldn’t be…"*

*"That’s right!"*

*"I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but no matter what, I’m sure it’s great. I assume it’s a large camera. Where’s your old handheld one?"*

Monica Bellucci asked.

"Hold on a second!"

Link lowered the camera in his hands. "Monica, be more relaxed during the performance. Don’t overact. Don’t think of yourself as an actress—think of yourself as my girlfriend. We’re deeply in love, and life is sweet. In our dialogue, avoid making it feel staged. Keep it as natural as possible, like you’re filming a home video during Christmas or a birthday party.

"Remember, this is a found-footage movie. Authenticity and naturalness are crucial. Artistic expression is secondary."

"I understand. I’ll give it a try."

Monica Bellucci nodded, glanced at the script, took a moment to get into character, and continued practicing lines with Link.

*"Come on, give the camera a kiss."*

*"I’m not kissing the camera—I’m kissing you."*

Monica stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

*"How much did this cost you?"*

*"What are you doing?"*

*"Do you really think this will work? That we’ll be able to capture the ghost in our house?"*

*"I think we’re going to have a very interesting time."*

Monica Bellucci continued reading her lines, slightly more relaxed than before, but there was still room for improvement.

Link held the camera, playing the husband’s role as he recorded and responded to her dialogue.

After about an hour of rehearsing, Link called for a break. He set down the small handheld camera and turned on the camcorder placed on his desk to review the footage they had just recorded.

The camera was the latest Canon LX-1 handheld model, featuring interchangeable lenses. Its clarity and image quality were on par with professional cameras.

The only downside was that it lacked digital storage, requiring frequent changes of blank tapes.

*"Link, how is it?"*

As they watched the footage, Monica walked up behind him, the scent of roses mixed with her warm body fragrance filling the air.

*"There’s a bit of an issue."*

Link stroked his chin while watching the video.

Although Monica Bellucci’s performance had room for improvement, that wasn’t the main issue. The bigger problem was that he and Monica didn’t look like a believable couple—one was Asian, the other Italian, and they had an eight-year age gap. Playing husband and wife just didn’t seem convincing.

The only way to fix this was to replace either himself or Monica.

After some consideration, he decided to replace himself.

This wasn’t about favoring Monica; it was purely for the quality of the film.

If he remained the lead, they would need to cast an actress of Asian descent to match him. But if both leads were Asian, the film would inevitably become categorized as an Asian film.

In Buried, there was only one actor—an Asian man mistaken for a Soviet spy—which wasn’t a big deal.

But in Ghostly Shadows, having another Asian lead could negatively impact the film’s box office performance in Western markets.

Additionally, Ghostly Shadows was a found-footage-style film. To make it feel like a real documentary, it was best to use unknown or non-professional actors.

Monica Bellucci had only been in Hollywood for six months and had played a minor role as a vampire bride in Bram Stoker’s Dracula. If she hadn’t later risen to fame with Malèna, almost no one would even remember her small role.

At this point, she was virtually unknown, much like a non-professional actor.

On the other hand, Link had been the lead in Buried, where the camera was on his face for over ninety minutes. Many viewers recognized him as an actor, which made him too familiar for a found-footage film.

Using such a well-known face would break the illusion of realism and make it harder to convince the audience.

*"Is it my fault? I can improve."*

Monica Bellucci asked with a nervous tone.

As she watched the footage, she became more and more disappointed—disappointed in herself.

She considered herself a professional actress with a wealth of experience, capable of handling any role.

But compared to Link, her performance fell short.

Link was incredibly natural on camera. His speech and movements were relaxed, just like in everyday life.

In contrast, her delivery still had traces of performance, and she wasn’t as at ease.

The difference was obvious.

When she heard Link say "there’s a problem," her heart pounded with anxiety, afraid she would be replaced.

*"It’s not your fault, Monica. Don’t worry, you did well."*

Link felt something warm and soft pressing against his left shoulder, as if it was beating rapidly. The scent in the air became even more intense.

*"Then what’s the problem?"*

*"Our chemistry is a bit off."*

Link briefly explained their lack of compatibility and how his familiar face wasn’t suited for a found-footage film.

*"So we’re replacing the male lead?"*

*"Not for now."*

Link planned to play the lead first and film a test version with Monica.

Afterward, he would see what rating the system assigned, how much experience it provided, and if there was any box office subsidy.

If the subsidy was too low, then they would replace him with another actor.

This film only had a $20,000 budget and a one-week shooting schedule. In a month, they could shoot three to four versions.

It was an excellent opportunity for practice, and missing it would be a waste.

Link explained his plan to shoot multiple versions to Monica. It would be a tedious process, but it would ensure the film’s quality.

The only drawback was that Monica might have to repeat her performance several times.

*"I don’t mind. I’m a new actress—repeating the process will only give me more practice."*

Monica Bellucci was an ambitious actress. Instead of feeling frustrated about reshoots, she saw them as a valuable opportunity.

Link wasn’t just a talented screenwriter and a genius director—he was also a skilled actor. Getting to work under his direction and receive his guidance was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.

*"As long as you don’t find it troublesome. If the shoot doesn’t work out, I’ll give you a bonus."*

*"Link, I don’t need a bonus. I just want the opportunity to perform."*

*"That won’t do. Even though this film has a small budget, the actors’ pay is non-negotiable. You have two options: one, a flat rate of $10,000 for the entire film, including any reshoots. Or two, $1,000 per day. Take your time to decide."*

*"I’ll take the $10,000 option."*

Monica Bellucci made her decision without hesitation.

*"Looking forward to working together."*

Link picked up the phone on the desk and asked Danny DeVito to print out an actor’s contract for Monica to sign.

With that, Ghostly Shadows had officially cast its first actor.

(End of chapter)

Chapter 34: Signing a Contract

"Link, are you free this afternoon?"

"What's up?"

"I know a great restaurant nearby. Want to try it together?"

"Sure, it's about time for a meal anyway. My treat!"

Link left the company with Monica Bellucci and drove to Bouchon, a French restaurant she had recommended.

Located on Santa Monica Boulevard, Bouchon is part of the Thomas Keller Restaurant Group. Since it’s close to Beverly Hills and has a Michelin Guide-recognized chef, the prices are on the higher side.

Not knowing much about French cuisine, Link ordered the chef’s recommendations from the menu: a bottle of 1988 Bordeaux red wine, French-style pan-seared steak, truffle soup, and a French sandwich.

Monica, needing to lose weight for her lead role, only ordered a vegetable salad and a sandwich.

"Link, can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

Link put down his fork and dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

"Someone like you—why were you living in the youth apartments?"

Monica Bellucci blinked her long, curled eyelashes. Her brown eyes sparkled under the restaurant’s warm lighting, and with her rose-colored lips and the faint glimpse of her décolletage, she looked far more tempting than the food on the table.

"A poor guy with dreams of becoming a star—doesn’t that fit perfectly in a youth apartment?"

"No, I don’t think so."

"I’ve only met you a few times, but it’s clear you’re nothing like the other people there. They indulge in comfort, dreaming of fame but putting in no effort.

You, on the other hand, have goals and ambition. You work hard every day and never associate with them. Do you know what left the deepest impression on me when I first met you?"

Monica held her wine glass between her fingers, looking at him intently.

"My handsome face?"

Link propped his chin on his hand, joking.

Monica let out a soft laugh and said, "Link, what I’m about to say might not sound very polite, but I’ll say it anyway. To me, a man’s looks mean nothing. More than appearance, I admire a man’s character, depth, and reputation.

Before you became a famous director, what impressed me most about you was your eyes—so bright, like flames. You radiate optimism, ambition, and determination.

Men like you either spiral into madness or achieve great success. You reached success much faster than I expected."

"You have sharp eyes. Back when I lived in the youth apartments, I tried to tone down my presence and blend in, but you still saw through me. Fine, I won’t hide it anymore—I’m actually a man from Mars, and my eyes are full of fire."

"Pfft, are you serious?"

Monica bit her lip, holding back a laugh.

"Consider it a cold joke."

"You’re quite funny—much more entertaining than when you work."

"I thought women admired men who take their work seriously."

"When you talk about scripts and directing, you do have an undeniable charm. But your face is so serious, with this deep frown here—" she pointed between her eyebrows, "—you look cold and unapproachable. At that moment, all I could think about was how to satisfy your expectations, not how charming you were."

She ran her fingers through her long, waterfall-like hair, brushing it back.

"That’s my fault, but I won’t change. I take work seriously and push my actors hard. That’s my principle on set. So before filming starts, you should mentally prepare yourself—I won’t go easy on you."

"Thanks for the warning. Just from what you said, I can already feel the pressure."

Monica rested her cheek on her palm and smiled. "That’s exactly why I said someone like you doesn’t belong in a youth apartment.

You’re far more mature and composed than others your age. You have extraordinary knowledge, talent, a sharp sense of humor, refined social skills, and a professional attitude that’s nothing like a rookie director’s.

The more I get to know you, the more I feel like you’re someone remarkable. If you told me you came from a noble family , I’d probably believe you."

Link smiled slightly and raised his glass for a toast with Monica.

Whether her words were genuine praise or just flattery with an agenda, he didn’t mind.

When dealing with women, the most important thing is to stay clear-headed—know what they want, know what you have, and know what else they want from you. Only then can you maintain control.

After dinner, Link and Monica left Bouchon and strolled along Santa Monica Boulevard, chatting under the golden glow of the Los Angeles sunset.

This wasn’t a waste of time—it was about building rapport and fostering a good working relationship for the upcoming shoot.

Since they would be playing a married couple, having a closer, more harmonious dynamic would help them get into character more easily.

---

That morning, while working out at the gym, Link ran into Jim Carrey again. They worked out together and played a game of tennis.

During breakfast, Link received a call from Old Mason. The Turner Classic Movies channel wanted to invite him for an exclusive interview about Buried Alive.

Since Turner didn’t have his contact info, they had called the United Artists Theatre instead.

"Alright, William, I’ll have someone reach out to Turner soon."

"Link, don’t you have an agent? You’re a star director now—you need a dedicated agent."

"Good point. I almost forgot—I should call the agency today."

Back at Guess Who Productions, Link called Sam Haskell, thanking him for his sincere invitation. He acknowledged WMA as a promising talent agency and expressed his willingness to collaborate.

Sam Haskell was delighted to hear from him and asked when he’d be available to sign the agency contract. WMA would handle all his professional affairs moving forward.

Haskell also mentioned that he was excited to personally represent him.

Link gave him the studio’s address and arranged a meeting that afternoon.

Around 9 AM, Liu Xiaoli arrived at the studio, bringing him a pot of yam and chicken soup, saying he was working too hard and needed nourishment.

While drinking the soup, Link called real estate agent Ellen Herbert to check on the apartment hunt.

Upon receiving confirmation that suitable options were available, he drove Liu Xiaoli around to visit a few properties with Ellen.

Eventually, he secured a mid-range apartment for Liu Xiaoli at Rex Apartments, about three kilometers from the company. The unit had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, and came fully furnished with appliances.

The security in the area is quite good. There are private kindergartens nearby, as well as Archer Girls' School, so when Liu Qianqian grows up, she can attend school close by.

Since the rent for the apartment was quite expensive, Link paid for two years in advance on her behalf, using his salary advance as a reason.

"Alright, Sister Xiao Li, the apartment is settled. Over the next few days, take some time to familiarize yourself with the area and shop for daily necessities. If you need a car, you can call me or Chris Ball—don’t hesitate. You don’t have to worry about company matters for now; once you’re settled, I’ll make the necessary arrangements."

"Alright!"

Liu Xiaoli glanced around the beautifully decorated apartment, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. She turned to look at him and smiled. "Link, I owe you more and more. I feel like I'll never be able to pay you back."

"The road ahead is long. No rush—take your time."

Back at Guess What Pictures, Link called Turner Television to discuss the interview content with host Billy Crystal. He wanted to prepare in advance.

Just as he hung up, Sam Haskell knocked and entered. He was dressed in a formal suit with a tie and carried a briefcase in hand.

His hair was neatly combed, and beneath his thick, well-groomed brows, his brown-black eyes lit up with a smile even before his lips did.

"Haha, Link! You finally called. I’ve barely slept in the past two days waiting for your call."

"Once we sign the contract, you can go home and sleep early."

Link took the agency representation contract from WMA and flipped through it.

Most of the content followed a standard agent contract template, with only a few modifications.

The contract stated that WMA would not interfere with his personal projects, nor would they take a cut from his project earnings. The penalty for breach of contract was a symbolic $50,000.

It was a collaboration based on trust, with relatively loose restrictions for both parties.

Once both parties’ lawyers were present, Link and the representative from WMA (William Morris Agency) signed the agency contract, officially making Link a WMA client.

The reason he chose WMA over the more dominant CAA (Creative Artists Agency) was because WMA had a higher number of directors among its clients, including James Cameron, Clint Eastwood, and David Lynch.

By joining WMA, he would have more opportunities for internal networking and learning from veteran directors.

Over the past few days, CAA had also reached out to him. Although their offer wasn’t as sincere as WMA’s, it was still quite good.

However, he chose not to go with CAA because the agency had expanded too rapidly in recent years.

CAA represented nearly half of Hollywood’s A-list and B-list stars, including Steven Spielberg, Sylvester Stallone, Oprah Winfrey, Tom Hanks, Tom Cruise, Robert Downey Jr., Nicolas Cage, and Julia Roberts.

CAA’s founder and president, Michael Ovitz, had been named Hollywood’s most powerful person by Premiere magazine for three consecutive years.

With so many high-profile clients, CAA was plagued by internal conflicts. As a newcomer, he wouldn’t have access to many resources.

Moreover, he remembered that in two years, CAA’s co-founders, Michael Ovitz and Ron Meyer, would leave for top executive positions at Walt Disney and Universal Pictures, throwing CAA into chaos and leading to several scandals.

Many celebrity clients would leave CAA at that time, transferring to WMA, ICM (International Creative Management), and UTA (United Talent Agency).

Since he already knew CAA would decline, there was no reason to get involved in the mess.

Joining WMA, with its more stable internal environment, was the better choice.

"Haha! Link, welcome to WMA. I hope our collaboration goes smoothly and leads to great success."

"That’s what I hope for too!"

The two shook hands in the meeting room.

The staff Sam Haskell had brought along took photos of them for the occasion.

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 35: Overseas Box Office*

In its fifth week of release in North America, Buried Alive earned $935,000 from 187 theaters, bringing its total box office revenue to $12.71 million.

The previous week, Buried Alive, distributed overseas by 20th Century Fox, was released in 21 countries and regions, grossing a total of $18.37 million. In Japan, South Korea, the United Kingdom, Spain, and Taiwan, the opening-week box office surpassed $2 million.

When this news reached the United States, it caused a sensation in the media and entertainment industry.

The production cost of Buried Alive was only $20,000. Before its release, it had not won any awards at international film festivals, yet its first-week overseas box office earnings were close to $20 million—a return on investment exceeding 900 times.

"These numbers are outrageous! This must be fake."  

Quentin Tarantino gritted his teeth with envy as he stared at the figures in the Los Angeles Times. His facial muscles twisted in frustration.

Of course, the numbers were real.

The data came from 20th Century Fox’s overseas distribution department. If the studio had inflated the box office numbers, it would mean they would have to pay Link a larger share of the profits. Fox wouldn’t be stupid enough to do something that offered them no benefit.

"An $18 million opening week overseas? The total international box office is expected to surpass $40 million, and the global total could exceed $60 million. Damn it! Why didn’t I pay attention to Buried Alive back then? What a missed opportunity!"  

Miramax Films' president, Harvey Weinstein, stared at the glaring numbers in the newspaper. A wave of intense regret surged through him. His sagging eye bags and jowls trembled slightly.

During the Sundance Film Festival, he personally led a team to Park City in search of promising new films. After watching Quentin Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs, he was thrilled, thinking he had found a hidden gem, and paid little attention to other films.

During that time, Link had even approached him, introducing himself and inviting him to watch Buried Alive.

Harvey Weinstein barely spared him a glance. Seeing his young Asian face, he didn’t believe he could have made a worthwhile film and ignored him.

Later, Miramax received a copy of Buried Alive on VHS from Link. Weinstein had heard that every other distributor had rejected the film, so he had no interest in watching what he assumed was a "trash movie."

No one expected Buried Alive to perform so outrageously at the box office, and its success only kept growing.

A $20,000 investment turned into thousands of times that amount in revenue.

If he had been just a little more patient at Sundance—if he hadn’t dismissed Link simply because he was too young or Asian—this film would have belonged to Miramax. It would have easily netted them at least $20 million in pure profit.

*Twenty million dollars!*

Harvey Weinstein pounded his chest in frustration.

---

Harvey wasn’t the only one feeling regret. After Buried Alive’s international opening week results were released, many studio executives who had once dismissed the film were now filled with remorse.

New Line Cinema was one of the first studios Link had approached.

Rumor had it that Robert Shaye, the usually calm and composed president of New Line, was so furious upon seeing Buried Alive's overseas box office results that he smashed his favorite glass sculpture in his office.

Some claimed it was an accident. Others whispered that it was his way of venting his frustration over missing out on Buried Alive.

"How the hell did this garbage movie make tens of millions at the box office?! Are audiences blind? They ignore a masterpiece like Chaplin but flock to see this trash? Why?!"  

In a Beverly Hills mansion, Robert Downey Jr. furiously hurled a half-empty bottle of limited-edition Royal Whisky against the wall. The bottle shattered with a loud crash, sending golden liquid and shards of glass flying.

His agent, Jimmy Ritchie, sighed and shook his head.

He couldn’t blame Robert for being angry—he was pissed too.

Buried Alive was a low-budget indie film. Even if it was well-made and had deep thematic content, it was still a rough B-movie, starring an unknown lead.

Yet, despite these odds, the film had grossed over $30 million worldwide, with projections exceeding $60 million.

Meanwhile, Chaplin, a meticulously crafted, artistically refined film, had only earned $8.13 million domestically and a dismal $3.22 million internationally after three weeks. It was completely crushed by Buried Alive.

If Buried Alive had been a high-budget commercial blockbuster or an arthouse masterpiece, Chaplin’s loss might have been easier to accept. But losing to a $20,000 B-movie?

That was unbearable.

To make matters worse, Chaplin and Buried Alive had been released at the same time.

In the beginning, Chaplin was considered leagues ahead of Buried Alive. Robert Downey Jr. vs. Link? It was like comparing a prince on a white horse to a beggar in the streets. The winner was obvious.

But then things started to change.

As Buried Alive expanded into more theaters, its box office numbers defied expectations. It climbed from dead last in weekly rankings to eighth place, then leapfrogged over Chaplin to take fifth, then fourth. At its peak, it even reached second place.

If not for the unexpected resurgence of the erotic thriller Basic Instinct, Buried Alive might have topped the box office charts.

Buried Alive’s rise came at Chaplin's expense.

The media loved comparing the two films.

Chaplin had a $15 million budget, with an additional $2 million in marketing.

It was directed by Oscar-winning filmmaker Richard Attenborough.

Its cast was stacked: Robert Downey Jr., Oscar winner Anthony Hopkins, A-list actress Diane Lane, seasoned performer Moira Kelly, and Hollywood bombshell Milla Jovovich.

It was backed by endorsements from dozens of celebrities and covered by hundreds of media outlets.

And Buried Alive?

A $20,000 budget. Marketing funded by the $50,000 Link scraped together from selling screenplays.

Directed by an unknown filmmaker—Link himself.

Starring an ex-extra—also Link.

Supporting cast? None.

No red carpet. Link had to sneak onto Chaplin's red carpet like a beggar.

Yet, Buried Alive’s total box office was five to six times that of Chaplin.

The contrast was too striking to ignore.

The media had a field day, mocking Robert Downey Jr. and ridiculing Chaplin.

The more successful Buried Alive became, the more Chaplin looked like a failure.

If Buried Alive went down in history for its record-breaking return on investment, Chaplin would be remembered as its stepping stone.

Robert Downey Jr., who was supposed to soar to new heights with Chaplin—perhaps even earn an Oscar nomination—was instead overshadowed by Link, a Hollywood newcomer from the slums. A newcomer, at that.

The prince had been trampled by the beggar. It was a tragedy more heartbreaking than Hamlet.

Given such an infuriating situation, smashing a whisky bottle was actually a pretty restrained reaction.

"Robert, you shouldn’t be upset. Hollywood has seen plenty of so-called 'genius' directors who shine brightly at first but fade within a few years. Link is one of them."  

"But you’re different. You’ve been acting since you were five. You’ve built your career step by step. You're not just a natural talent—you've worked hard to become one. Your light will only grow brighter, while Link's will dim. He’ll fade back into obscurity soon enough."  

Robert Downey Jr. closed his eyes for a few seconds, then slowly opened them. "Jimmy, you’re right. Link got lucky once. But I can succeed over and over again. He’s not worth my anger."  

Jimmy Ritchie clapped his hands, as if soothing a child. "That’s the spirit, Robert. You’ll go farther than any of them."  

*(End of Chapter)*