Back to 80: My literary life.

Chapter 207 Director Wu’s treat

However, Zhao Hongjun would not pay for it.

Not to mention now, but throughout the 1980s and 1990s, if you look at domestic martial arts books, which one has Jin Yong authorized to give royalties to others?

They are all pirated copies!

The country only joined the Universal Copyright Convention in the early 90s.

Of course, there is also a special case. I don’t know which publishing house published "The Book of Swords and Enmities".

Don't join in the fun yourself.

Zhao Hongjun and Song Tangtang are still settling scores.

"If we follow Brother Red Army's idea and print 10 sets, it will cost at least about 31.2 yuan, plus the company rent and employee wages, I think it will be at least 35 yuan." Song Tangtang reported a figure.

Zhao Hongjun nodded with satisfaction: "It's pretty much what I thought, Minghua? Half for each person? An investment of 35 can earn 40, how about it?"

Fang Minghua laughed, "How can 10 sets be enough? If you want to play, go bigger and print at least 30 sets!"

"30 sets?!" Zhao Hongjun was shocked when he heard this.

"While there are still relatively few Jin Yong books on the mainland market, print more quickly. When publishing houses are liberalized later, it will not be so easy to make money."

"Okay! Just listen to you, 30 sets is 30 sets!" Zhao Hongjun slapped the table; "I'm afraid of a hammer! Just do it! Just do it, and I'll make a fortune!"

"Red Army, do you have enough funds?" Fang Minghua thought of a question and asked with concern: "If it is not enough, I will lend you some."

"Lending you money to do business with you? Don't tell me that I really can't open my mouth." Zhao Hongjun said, "It doesn't matter, I'll go find a bank for a loan! I know a few presidents, and besides, they won't even look at me. It also depends on my father’s face, right?”

After finishing the matter, Zhao Hongjun was about to pack up the stack of martial arts books and leave, but heard Fang Minghua say: "Wait a minute."

"These are all traditional Chinese characters. Who are you going to find to write and translate them into the simplified Chinese version first?" Fang Minghua suddenly thought of a question.

"I have also arranged this and am going to hand it over to the Chencang Social Sciences magazine to help translate it into a simplified version. Doesn't the state now require prefecture-level publications to be responsible for their own profits and losses? They have also come out to take over the work." Zhao Hongjun explained.

"However, the price is not cheap, a book costs 2000 yuan."

"Red Army, there's no need to go to such trouble. We can find someone who doesn't pay for it. This can save costs." Fang Minghua said with a smile.

Zhao Hongjun was surprised when he heard this.

“These days, who can work for free if you don’t need money?”

"You go to the university and find some college students who are studying Chinese and let them read these books for free, but there is one condition: change the traditional Chinese characters into simplified Chinese characters and copy them out. There will definitely be people who are willing, but the students are almost on vacation now."

"Oh, Minghua, you are smart. Just do as you say! I can still find people during the holidays!"

Zhao Hongjun rushed away happily, leaving Fang Minghua and Song Tangtang alone in the room.

The girl stared at him blankly, as if the proletarian worker was looking at the evil capitalist.

Fang Minghua coughed dryly, picked up the magazine and pretended to read it.

Song Tangtang was silent for a while, and finally said: "Minghua, is it a bit too risky to invest so much at once?"

"Don't worry, as long as the book can be printed, it will be sold." Fang Minghua put down the magazine and looked at the girl and said: "Don't underestimate the Red Army, let alone his father. What others think is difficult is difficult for him and his son. Just one sentence.”

Song Tangtang nodded silently after hearing this.

"Tangtang, you have to do a good job with your financial accounts. Don't let him evade taxes, do those crooked things, and take advantage of small things. He may suffer big losses in the future."

"I understand, don't worry."

"You can transfer the investment funds directly when the time comes." Fang Minghua said, taking out a bankbook from the drawer and handing it to the girl.

Above are his royalties and royalties in the past few years. In addition to the American royalties and royalties that Sun Lizhe has in foreign accounts, those in Xiangjiang, Baodao, and Japan are basically here.

Not much, just over 120 million.

When setting up a company to print martial arts novels, Zhao Hongjun would be the one to run it. Sometimes Song Tangtang would follow him to help, but Fang Minghua didn't worry about it. In this regard, Zhao Hongjun, who has been in the officialdom, is definitely more expert than himself.

As time enters the twelfth lunar month, I feel that time flies by very quickly. The New Year atmosphere on the street is getting stronger and stronger. The employees in the unit are not interested in working. They are busy with work and often leave their jobs to do things at home.

It's like this these days.

The January journal has been published, and the ten poems in the February poetry group have all been reviewed and approved. They are just waiting for typesetting and printing, and there is nothing else going on at work.

Now he's sitting in his office, drinking tea and looking at a poem that will appear in the February issue.

"Summer Sun"

summer

If there were no shoemaker in this street

I'll be barefoot

Stand in the sun and look at the sun

I think of children born during the day

It must be intentional

It was written by Haizi.

Since Fang Minghua went to Yanjing in April last year to find Haizi, the other party has mailed four or five new poems one after another, and Fang Minghua has basically approved them.

This song "Summer" was probably sent by Haizi before the winter vacation. When Fang Minghua saw it, he immediately asked Zhao Muchun to arrange for it to be published without saying a word.

He appreciated a few sentences in it very much:

you come to the world

you have to look at the sun

and your sweetheart

walking down the street together

How passionately and beautifully written!

What a pity for him.

Why.

Fang Minghua couldn't help but shake his head.

At this moment, the phone on the desk rang, and Fang Minghua picked up the phone: "I'm Fang Minghua, who is this?"

"Minghua, I am Wu Tianmin."

A thick Guanzhong voice came from the microphone.

Fang Minghua laughed: "Brother Wu, no, I should call you Director Wu now."

"Look what you said, don't I want to call you Editor-in-Chief Fang?"

They both laughed.

"What has Brother Wu been busy with lately?" Fang Minghua asked.

"I'm busy! Ever since I became the director of the factory, I've had a lot of troubles. I haven't made a single movie this year. I'm so annoyed!"

"But your West Film Studio produced six movies in one go last year. Your "Life" won the Golden Rooster and Hundred Flowers Joy Award, and your "Silent Xiaoli River" won the second prize of the Ministry of Culture's Outstanding Film Award. Among these achievements Isn’t it due to you as the factory director?”

"Haha, Minghua, you are really good at talking. Are you free tonight? I want us to get together and celebrate the New Year in advance. I also invited Lu Yao, Pingwa and the others."

"Okay. It's been a long time since we've been together. Where are we?"

"May Day Hotel, 6:30 in the evening!"

"Okay, I'll come on time."

Fang Minghua hung up the phone.

Since Wu Tianmin was appointed as the director of Xiying Film Studio last year, he has suddenly become a very busy man. In addition to filming the movie "Life", he also has a lot of things waiting for him in the unit. Fang Minghua rarely sees him, let alone parties. .

What's going on today?

Is there anything else?

Just when Fang Minghua was thinking wildly, in the office of the director of Xiying Film Studio, Wu Tianmin said to a very simple-looking young man with a crew cut: "Minghua and the others agreed, you go with me tonight."

The young man was a little frightened: "Director Wu, is this not appropriate? You are inviting big writers. How can I, a small photographer, have the nerve to sit and have dinner with you?"

(End of this chapter)