…
"Sir, we're here. Chinatown."
Bruce nodded, paid the fare, and stepped out of the cab.
L.A.'s Chinatown wasn't as famous as the ones in San Francisco or New York, but walking through it still gave off that old Shanghai feeling, like something frozen in time.
It was his first time here. While looking for the address in his notes, he also took in the streets around him. After asking a few people for directions, he finally passed through a narrow alley with a faint unpleasant smell and arrived at a small courtyard paved with concrete bricks. Thin weeds grew between the cracks, and trash was piled up in the corners.
The buildings around it were packed tightly together, the whole place looking like one of those old apartment blocks you'd see in Hong Kong gangster movies. The only difference was that, since land in America wasn't as ridiculously cramped as in Hong Kong, the buildings here were only six stories tall. It felt enclosed, but not suffocating.
Bruce climbed the staircase in the corner and stopped in front of a door marked 321. After making sure he had the right place, he knocked.
"Who is it?"
A slightly hoarse, impatient voice came from inside. A moment later, the sound of footsteps approached, and with a creak, the door opened.
A thin young white guy stood there, wearing a wrinkled black tank top and gray plaid shorts with dried food stains on them. His hair looked like he'd lost a fight with a pillow. Honestly, the only thing mildly saving his image was that his face wasn't completely hopeless.
"Who are you looking for?"
He gave Bruce a quick once-over, clearly noticing the sharp suit and the whole Wall Street-success-story vibe, then asked again when he realized he didn't know him.
"Hi. Does James Wan live here?"
"Yeah."
"Can I speak with him?"
"Come in."
Still looking suspicious, the young man stepped aside and let him in.
"James, someone's here for you!"
Bruce followed him inside. Having lived in a dorm before, he hadn't expected much from a bachelor's apartment.
And yeah, the place did not disappoint. It was exactly the kind of mess you'd imagine. Dirty, cluttered, and full of stacked-up takeout boxes in the corner that had clearly been sitting there for ages. The whole small living room had that lovely smell that practically invited flies and mosquitoes in for dinner. But aside from the chaos, one thing stood out: under the TV stand was a huge pile of DVDs. From the visible covers, they were all movies.
"Who's looking for me?"
A surprised voice came from one of the side rooms. Then the door opened, and a young man stepped out.
He had medium-length hair parted to one side, a thin face, loose black jacket, jeans, and very obvious East Asian features.
The two men both paused for a second.
James Wan clearly hadn't expected the person looking for him to be another Chinese guy dressed like a rising executive. And Bruce, meanwhile, had not expected the future horror legend to look this much like a broke loser.
Still, Bruce recovered first. He stepped forward with a smile and held out his hand.
"Hi. My name's Bruce Gu. I own a film company."
"James Wan. Wait… you own a film company?"
Wan blinked, visibly surprised. The guy in front of him looked around his age, maybe even younger, but he was already running a company?
"Yeah. The company's new, and I'm putting together a low-budget horror film. The script and the money are already ready. What I need now is a director and part of the core crew. A friend recommended you."
"A director? You mean… you want me to direct it?"
Wan's eyes widened, and his breathing changed instantly.
Holding the director's chair had always been his dream.
Bruce smiled and nodded. "If you're interested, we can sit down and talk."
"Yes, yes, he's interested! James is great at this stuff!"
Before Wan could even answer, the white guy next to him blurted it out. Wan quickly followed with an eager nod.
Two years ago, the two of them had graduated from RMIT in Australia and come to Hollywood like countless others before them, chasing the dream of making movies. No connections, no money, average looks, no backing. So all they could do was work as low-level crew or background extras on studio lots. It wasn't exactly starving-to-death poor, but once the rent was paid, there was never much left.
So to them, Bruce showing up like this was basically a giant pie falling from the sky.
"Since you're interested, why don't we talk somewhere else?"
Bruce really couldn't stand the smell in this place.
"I know a great coffee shop nearby. I'll take you there."
The white guy was quick on the uptake. He opened the door and led the way without waiting.
Bruce didn't object. The three of them headed to a café on a nearby corner.
On the way there, after a little casual talk, Wan's earlier excitement slowly calmed down, though he still looked a little stiff around Bruce.
"Mr. Gu… you really want me to direct a movie?"
"You've asked that eight times already on the way here."
Bruce said it without any annoyance in his voice.
"Sorry. I just… still can't quite believe it. I've never directed a feature film before."
"That's fine. Everybody has a first time. I believe you can do it."
After saying that, Bruce opened his briefcase and placed a published novel in front of him.
"This is the project I want to make."
Wan looked down at it.
Paranormal Activity.
"Isn't this that supernatural novel that just came out recently?"
"You've read it?"
"Yeah. I've loved horror and supernatural stuff since I was little."
Bruce nodded. That much lined up perfectly with what he knew.
Then Wan turned the book over, looked at the author page again, and froze.
"You… you wrote this?"
"Yeah. 'Dong Ren' is my pen name. This one, plus Pirates of the Caribbean, Fantastic Beasts, Fifty Shades, and National Treasure: Declaration of Independence—they're all mine."
Wan and the white guy both went completely blank for a second.
Only now did it really hit them that the young man sitting across from them—young, yes, but carrying that calm, slightly intimidating maturity—wasn't just some businessman. He was also a hot new bestselling author.
"Mr. Gu, I'm a huge fan! Especially National Treasure—the treasure-hunting stuff in that book was incredible!"
The white guy's eyes were practically shining with admiration.
Bruce smiled and nodded. "Thanks."
Whether the admiration was fully sincere or not, it was still pleasant enough to hear.
"Since you've already read the novel, that makes things easier. I want to adapt it into a film. Budget: 1.5 million dollars. Shooting schedule: 30 days."
The original film's absurd return on investment had already proven how crazy the idea could be. But Bruce wasn't short on money to the point of needing to squeeze every last cent out of a shoestring production. Compared to a totally raw found-footage setup, he'd rather make something cleaner and more polished with proper filming methods. It would also be much easier to market that way.
And as for James Wan not being the original director? Bruce wasn't worried. He knew the story, knew the structure, and could watch the whole thing himself as producer if needed. More importantly, Wan's talent for horror had already been proven by history. No explanation needed.
"Wouldn't thirty days be too short?"
Wan was excited, but clearly worried too.
"That depends on your skill as a director. Besides, most of the film takes place inside a single house. There aren't many exterior scenes, and post-production won't be too complicated either. That saves time."
Wan frowned slightly, then nodded.
"Mr. Gu, this is a novel. If you want to make it into a movie, it'll need adaptation. I majored in screenwriting in college, so I can help with that."
The white guy seized the chance to recommend himself.
Bruce only needed a second to think before nodding.
"Sure."
"Thank you!"
He looked thrilled.
"By the way, how long have you two been in Hollywood?"
"Almost two years."
"So you know the place pretty well?"
The white guy grinned.
"Mr. Gu, I guarantee it—there's basically nothing in Hollywood we don't know. Including where all the actresses live."
Bruce smiled faintly. He had zero interest in actress gossip.
"Good. Since you know the area, help me find a filming location that fits the story. And James, you can start looking at actors."
Wan nodded, visibly energized. He liked how direct Bruce was.
"And the contract?"
"If nothing goes wrong, I'll call you tomorrow and have you come by the company to sign it."
Wan thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I've got no more questions."
"Same here."
"Good. Then let's leave it here for today. I've still got something else to do tonight, so I won't stay."
"Goodbye, Mr. Gu."
"See you."
As soon as Bruce walked out of the café, Wan and his friend practically burst into celebration.
Hearing the commotion behind him, Bruce didn't bother turning around.
"Starbucks. César Chávez Avenue."
The cab driver acknowledged him, hit the gas, and the car rolled away from Chinatown.
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