Buddy Morris moved fast. In just two days, he had a full crew assembled, and finding a suburban house in Los Angeles wasn't exactly difficult.
James Wan, meanwhile, fully lived up to the reputation he would later earn as both a horror master and a lightning-fast director. Sure, that reputation belonged to his future self, but some people are simply born better than most in certain areas.
Within three days, he had already found the cast and, together with Leigh Whannell, finished the script. Part of the reason it went so quickly was that there were only a few roles to begin with, and aside from the two leads, the rest barely had much screen time.
"I mentioned it before!"
"That's fine… but no!"
"…I'm just letting you know my heart is crying!"
"Cut!"
Watching James step over to explain the lines himself to the pretty lead actress Bruce had specifically asked him to cast, Bruce nodded to himself.
From what he had seen these past few days, even though this was James's first time directing, what he was getting on camera was already meeting Bruce's quality standards. And he wasn't wasting film, either. That was enough.
Just then, his phone rang.
Bruce pulled it out, glanced at the number, and answered.
"Hello, is this Mr. Bruce Gu?"
"Speaking."
"Hello, this is Steve Levin from Korn Ferry."
"Hello. My assistant told me things have been going well on your end."
"Thank you for the compliment. The target has agreed to fly to Los Angeles to meet you in person. Tomorrow at three in the afternoon, at the Cabana Private Club. He likes billiards, so we've reserved the billiards room for the meeting."
"Fine. I'll follow your arrangement."
Bruce nodded.
"Then I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow."
After hanging up, Bruce thought for a moment. Rather than interrupting James in the middle of shooting, he quietly left the set on his own.
…
Because he wanted to secure this future star of China's venture capital world, Bruce spent the evening back at the hotel preparing what he wanted to say the next day.
Only after he felt everything was in order did he open his laptop, deal with the pile of company emails in his inbox, and continue working on his novel.
Besides Pirates of the Caribbean, Fantastic Beasts, Fifty Shades, National Treasure, and Paranormal Activity, he had just finished the first Fast & Furious novel in June. Now, in early July, the one he was writing was The Hangover 1.
The next day, Bruce put on a custom-tailored suit he had specially brought with him, strapped on his Vacheron Constantin watch, and dressed carefully to show how seriously he was taking this meeting. Then he drove the rented Lincoln sedan to the place they had agreed on.
"Mr. Gu, hello. I'm Steve Levin."
As soon as Bruce parked, Steve Levin, who had been waiting outside, hurried over.
"Hello."
They shook hands briefly.
"Has he arrived?"
"He has. One of our people is upstairs with him now."
"Let's go."
Bruce nodded.
"This way, Mr. Gu."
Bruce didn't bother with empty politeness. He took the lead and strode inside.
The Cabana Private Club was one of the most exclusive social venues in Los Angeles, but for Korn Ferry, one of the five biggest headhunting firms in the world, getting in was hardly a challenge.
When they reached the top floor, Bruce gave the surroundings a quick look before Steve led him into a lavishly decorated billiards room.
As soon as the door opened, the people inside stopped what they were doing and looked over.
Bruce's gaze swept past the Korn Ferry consultant who had been keeping the guest company and settled on the young man holding the cue stick.
He was wearing a dark blue suit and black-framed glasses. His bearing was refined, his eyes warm, but there was a clear light of intelligence in them.
And while Bruce was sizing him up, Zhang Lei was doing the exact same thing.
Before agreeing to come, he had naturally looked into the man trying to recruit him.
Other than the impressive background—three degrees from Stanford at a young age—what had really made Zhang decide to meet him was a short written piece Bruce had sent over about the future development of the internet.
It was only around a thousand words, but those thousand words described a force capable of changing the world.
At a time when the Nasdaq crisis had shaken everyone's faith in the internet, that kind of confidence naturally sparked curiosity.
"Mr. Zhang, this is the Mr. Bruce Gu you've been wanting to meet," Steve Levin said.
"I'm Guo Shouyun. Very glad you could come, Mr. Zhang Lei."
Bruce stepped forward with a smile and held out his hand first.
"I didn't expect your Mandarin to be this fluent, Mr. Gu. That's a surprise."
Zhang Lei sounded genuinely taken aback.
"My adoptive father taught me from childhood. And I'm Chinese by blood, so I've always had a strong interest in China. On top of that, speaking as a businessman, I'm optimistic about China's economic future. Being fluent in the language helps me understand it more directly and get involved much faster."
The two shook hands, then shared a brief smile. First impressions on both sides were good.
"Mr. Gu, Mr. Zhang, now that you've met, our job here is done. The two of you can talk freely. We won't disturb you any further," Steve Levin said.
"You've done an excellent job. Thank you."
Bruce nodded.
"That's what we're supposed to do. Take your time. We'll head out first."
After giving them both a small nod, Steve Levin left with his colleague.
Once the door closed, Bruce smiled at Zhang Lei.
"I heard you like billiards. Want to play a round while we talk?"
"Sure."
Zhang nodded.
The two reset the table and started playing.
Crack.
A red ball dropped neatly into the pocket, but when Bruce lined up for the two-point shot, he missed. Even so, it wasn't bad at all. He had already sunk three balls in a row.
"Do you play snooker often, Mr. Gu?" Zhang asked.
"I used to, for a while."
Back before all this, after moving from Jinan to Shanghai for work, Bruce had spent a good stretch of time playing with coworkers. He hadn't touched it much in the last few years, but fortunately the feel hadn't completely left him.
Zhang nodded, made his own shot, and then asked, "Have you ever been to China?"
"No. I've wanted to for a long time, but I've been too busy to make the trip. Still, in the future, China will be the country I visit most often after the United States."
"Why?"
"Because I'm Chinese. By blood, China is my homeland. Beyond that, no country in the world has an economy with as much vitality right now. I believe in its future. In another ten years, it'll be the largest economy after the U.S. In twenty, it'll stand shoulder to shoulder with America. So whether it's because of heritage or business, I have every reason to take it extremely seriously."
Zhang studied him for a moment.
"It's rare to meet someone in the U.S. who has this much faith in China's economy."
Bruce smiled faintly.
"Do you know why I want you?"
"I'd like to hear it."
"First, you were born and raised in China. You understand how business works there. Second, you studied at Renmin University and Yale. Your classmates are top people in a lot of industries. That means you have both connections and ability. Third, you worked at the Yale endowment, so you already have real financial experience. Fourth, you're young—only twenty-eight. You've still got the time, the energy, the drive, and the hunger that this business demands. And fifth, most importantly, you're outstanding. You're exactly the kind of talent this industry needs."
Bruce's admiration was open and direct.
Zhang's expression barely changed, but inwardly he was far less calm. Being valued, being recognized—it stirred pride and excitement in him.
"So my work would mainly be in China?" he asked.
"Yes and no."
"How do you mean?"
"It's simple. I want you to manage Hanhua Capital's investment business in China, but that doesn't mean you're forbidden from investing outside it. I don't want to limit your talent. If you think there's a worthwhile target in India, Southeast Asia, or even the United States, you can make that call yourself. As long as losses don't exceed twenty percent, I won't interfere in how you run the company."
Zhang nodded slowly, thinking.
"The headhunter told me I'd be managing a thirty-million-dollar fund?"
"That's right. Right now, Hanhua Capital has three funds under it. The first is the Beginning of Spring Fund, a private equity fund with ten million dollars, focused on internet investments. The second is the Rain Water Fund, a closed-end mutual fund with another ten million, focused on technology. The third is the Awakening of Insects Fund, a real estate fund, also with ten million."
Bruce paused, then continued.
"And in addition to that, I'm giving you another 1.2 million dollars as operating capital—office lease, hiring the people you need, and so on. The fund structure is two and twenty: a two percent profit share and a twenty percent management fee. As CEO, you'll receive a two percent share from the returns of all three funds."
Then he looked directly at Zhang Lei.
"I think that's enough sincerity on my part. No one else is going to hand you this much freedom and this much capital."
Zhang nodded in silence.
At his age, being put in charge of thirty million dollars—more than two hundred million RMB—was almost unheard of in the financial world.
Most of his Yale MBA classmates were still stuck in the stage of building résumés and accumulating experience.
But being handed that much money all at once was more than just exciting. It also came with a heavy pressure.
He knew perfectly well that returns and responsibilities always matched. Bruce was offering him capital and freedom, yes—but he would expect results worthy of both.
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