Chapter 338: The Expansion of the Cultural Industry Chain
Still in Central, Zheng Zhijie arrived after a little more than ten minutes.
Yang Wendong said, "Old Zheng, Changxing Film wants to build a studio complex. Do you have any suitable properties under your management?"
Zheng Zhijie turned toward Zou Wenhuai and asked, "Mr. Zou, how much land do you need for this studio? Any specific requirements for location or transport access?"
Zou Wenhuai replied, "The Shaw Brothers shooting base in Clear Water Bay covers about 660,000 square feet—roughly 73,000 square meters. We'll need at least that much, possibly more. As for location and transportation, they can't be too remote. We need to consider the commuting time for crew members and actors. If a site is too far out and even one or two people can't show up on time, it could delay the whole production schedule. That would seriously disrupt filming."
"660,000 square feet..." Zheng Zhijie thought for a moment. "Yang Sheng, Mr. Zou, while Changxing Real Estate currently holds many properties, I don't have any single piece of open land over 600,000 square feet.
However, if there's a legitimate construction need, we could apply to the Hong Kong government for land allocation under this project. As long as the justification is reasonable, the authorities usually approve such applications."
Changxing Real Estate's acquisitions over the past few years had focused mainly on developed properties. Pure land parcels were rare, and even if they were acquired, they were quickly developed into buildings for rental income. It was not in the company's interest to let valuable land lie idle.
In Hong Kong's property market, large vacant plots could mostly only be found in the New Territories—areas with little to no development value at present.
Yang Wendong nodded. "Then let's apply through official channels. We'll purchase the land to build the film studio. Old Zou, do you have any ideas on where it should be located?"
Zou Wenhuai thought for a moment and said, "Ideally, somewhere in southern Kowloon Peninsula—places like Kwun Tong, Clear Water Bay, or Kowloon Bay."
"Those areas won't be easy to find a 600,000-square-foot site," Zheng Zhijie said. "Mr. Zou, how about Tseung Kwan O?"
"Tseung Kwan O? That could work. The location is decent too," Zou Wenhuai nodded.
Yang Wendong asked, "Do we have suitable land in Tseung Kwan O?"
In his past life, TVB's studio complex had indeed been built in Tseung Kwan O. There had to be a reason for that. The early-developed areas on Hong Kong Island and Kowloon Peninsula were already densely packed. There was likely no room left for a large studio complex. Areas like Tseung Kwan O would naturally become second-choice candidates.
Zheng Zhijie said, "Yang Sheng, do you remember when we were looking for a site for the Carrefour poultry farm? Our first choice was Tseung Kwan O, but the government rejected it due to environmental concerns and the scale of the land required.
Now that we're planning a film studio, those issues won't apply. Studios don't cause pollution and can actually help boost the economy. This aligns with the government's development priorities for commercial infrastructure."
"No," Yang Wendong said. "I want to go bigger. Let's build a larger studio complex. Let's do it properly from the beginning. I believe that when the film industry starts booming in the future, 600,000 square feet won't even be close to enough."
In the 1960s, Hong Kong cinema was just starting to show promise. Compared to the 1970s, it still had a long way to go—let alone the boom of the 1980s and 1990s.
"Alright," Zheng Zhijie agreed immediately. "How much larger are we talking? Or do you have specific requirements?"
Zou Wenhuai was momentarily stunned. That's the decisiveness of a large conglomerate. If this were Shaw Brothers or any other company, building a studio would require layers upon layers of documentation, countless meetings, extensive research reports... and even then, the boss might slash the budget multiple times. It could take months—if not over a year—to finalize.
But here? Just one sentence.
Yang Wendong said, "You've all heard the news that the government plans to launch a wireless television station soon, haven't you?"
All three nodded in unison.
Yang Wendong said, "I'm going after that TV license as well. So in the future, this film studio will also serve as a production base for television programs. That means the larger, the better. Even if we can't find a suitable plot, I'm willing to negotiate compensation for relocating nearby villages."
The future TVB network—his involvement in pushing the television license auction forward by two years—was already in motion. He was determined to win.
Even if something went wrong with the TV license bid, hoarding land wouldn't be a loss. Tseung Kwan O would eventually become a major district in its own right.
"Understood," Zheng Zhijie said. "However, when we applied for the poultry farm, the government approved agricultural land. This time, for the studio, we'll have to apply for commercial zoning. That will be more expensive.
Unless I can convince the Lands Department to approve it under industrial zoning."
"That's fine," Yang Wendong said, completely unconcerned. "There's not much commercial development in Tseung Kwan O yet, so the price shouldn't be too high. Whether commercial or industrial land, let's just secure it first."
There was no such thing as "cultural facility land use" in Hong Kong's zoning laws. Even in his past life, the Tseung Kwan O TV and film studio was a special exception granted by the government—during a time when the film and TV industries were thriving, and the economy was strong. Today, that kind of preferential treatment would be hard to come by.
"Alright," Zheng Zhijie replied. "I'll negotiate with the Lands Department and try to get a favorable price."
"Good," Yang Wendong nodded. "Still, even if we secured the land today, it will take time to build the studio. Old Zou, what are your production plans in the meantime?"
Zou Wenhuai replied, "Yang Sheng, I'm planning to produce two martial arts films. One is The Legend of the Condor Heroes, which you previously bought the rights to. The other is an original martial arts storyline I've developed myself."
"Alright. I won't interfere in how you go about filming," Yang Wendong said. "But I do have one guiding principle: don't do what Shaw Brothers did—chasing profits through volume. Yes, that model does make some money, but I'd rather we focus on quality content.
Whether it's films or future television shows, I want us to create premium productions. Let's do things properly."
If his only goal were to turn a profit with an assembly line-style movie factory, he wouldn't bother getting personally involved. There were faster ways to make money—factories and real estate, for instance.
His purpose in entering the entertainment industry was to create high-quality content. He didn't know much about filmmaking in this era, so he wouldn't micromanage. But he would set clear expectations.
Zou Wenhuai paused, then said, "Yang Sheng, I understand. In fact, Shaw Brothers and Cathay had similar aspirations in the early days. But film stock is just too expensive. Sometimes, a single fight scene needs multiple takes—five, ten, even more. That drives costs way up.
Eventually, they gave up and started rushing productions. One take per scene, even if it wasn't perfect. Over time, that became the industry norm."
"Film stock... yeah, that stuff is expensive," Yang Wendong nodded. Many phenomena in a given era had very practical causes behind them.
Without digital cameras, every press of the shutter cost real money.
Zou Wenhuai added, "Yes. It's all imported from Japan. In fact, for most films, the biggest single cost is the film stock itself."
"There's really no good solution at the moment," Yang Wendong said after a brief pause. "Since we can't control the cost of film stock, let's find another way—control the actors. Spend a bit more on casting high-quality performers, preferably ones with real martial arts skills, and train them thoroughly. That way we can minimize takes, reduce the film stock used, and speed up production."
"Understood, Yang Sheng," Zou Wenhuai replied firmly.
Yang Wendong then turned to Zhang Zhiyuan. "Old Zhang, since the Calabash Brothers movie will gradually be released across Southeast Asia, make sure to find the right distributors. Push our stickers and toys over there, too. Cultural merchandise and entertainment go hand-in-hand."
If the movie aired but didn't have any associated merchandise, people would forget it quickly. But once products entered the market, they would constantly reinforce the memory of the movie or show. It would be a win-win.
"Don't worry, Yang Sheng. Everything is ready on my end. Changxing Industrial already expanded production capacity a while ago," Zhang Zhiyuan assured him.
Yang Wendong nodded. "Good. Then let's each focus on our own work. Internally, we'll collaborate more. Let's grow Hong Kong's cultural industry together."
"Yes, Yang Sheng," the others responded in unison.
The film industry was one of the core pillars of the broader cultural sector. Not only did it generate massive profits, but it was also a platform with immense influence, and most importantly, a frontline for cultural export.
Back in his previous life, during the heyday of Hong Kong cinema in the 1980s and 1990s, Yang Wendong had watched those movies from the mainland, often daydreaming: How amazing would it be to go to Hong Kong someday? That kind of immersive appeal was irreplaceable.
Of course, television stations held even greater influence. At its peak, TVB's reach was arguably more powerful than that of Hong Kong cinema. Sadly, TVB's golden era lasted only about twenty years. Entering the new millennium, it failed to capitalize on the growing mainland market and declined entirely.
This time, Yang Wendong was determined not to let history repeat itself. But the first step was obtaining the wireless TV license.
April 30, Tuesday
Yang Wendong arrived at the Port Wah Building. Once the first headquarters of Changxing Group, it now looked a little small compared to the new skyscrapers in Central.
"There are more and more new buildings popping up in this area, huh?" Yang Wendong remarked with a smile.
Qin Zhiye replied, "Yes. Many large real estate developers are actively expanding in this area. Even Changxing Real Estate owns two buildings nearby that are part of our group."
"Mm. Once we grow a bit more, we'll move into a newer headquarters," Yang Wendong said with a smile.
For the past few years, Changxing Real Estate had grown mostly through conventional methods. Because Yang Wendong understood where the market was headed, he often used more aggressive leverage than other developers.
Aside from the properties he had personally ordered to be acquired, the rest of the portfolio was handled autonomously by Zheng Zhijie, with Yang Wendong providing final approval. This made their development speed incredibly fast.
Of course, starting this year, he had already tapped the brakes. By next year or the year after, he would hit them hard.
"Got it. Thank you, Yang Sheng," Qin Zhiye said with a smile.
Yang Wendong asked, "Has the Hong Kong government confirmed the date for the wireless TV license auction?"
"They have," Qin Zhiye answered. "It will be held next month, on the 11th."
Yang Wendong continued, "Who else is competing for the license?"
"Besides us," said Qin Zhiye, "there are six other applicants: Lijia from Causeway Bay, the Anglo-Chinese firm Hehe, Zhang's Real Estate from Mong Kok, the British Independent Television Company, and ABC from the United States."
"Even foreign capital is participating?" Yang Wendong frowned. Though Chinese capital had historically won, he knew better than to rely solely on history as a guide.
"Yes," Qin Zhiye explained. "But from what I've heard, the government doesn't intend to grant the license to a foreign company. They're mainly there to increase the bidding price and push for more refined business proposals."
"Typical Hong Kong government politics," Yang Wendong mused. "So who's our strongest competitor?"
"Lijia," Qin Zhiye replied. "Its current head is Li Haohuo, a very prominent figure in Hong Kong. He's quite wealthy, and this time, he has backing from Jardine Matheson, Hutchison Group, and Shaw Brothers.
In particular, Shaw Brothers promised that if Lijia wins the license, they would lease their studio facilities to the new station at a very low rate."
"We're not worried about studios," Yang Wendong said calmly. "I've already directed Changxing Film and Changxing Real Estate to apply for land to build a much larger studio. That will be available for use by the television station as well."
Qin Zhiye nodded. "Alright, I'll prepare additional documentation for the government. But in terms of timing, it's unlikely the studio will be finished in time, so it may not be a deciding factor."
"Just make sure we've built strong relationships with the right officials," Yang Wendong said. "As for financial backing, we've got HSBC and Wheelock behind us. In that regard, we're on equal footing."
He had reached an agreement with HSBC long ago to cooperate on the television station, which helped build the necessary political and business relationships. Later, he also connected with Wheelock, a conglomerate whose core businesses didn't overlap much with Changxing—except for shipping, a massive market where they could both profit without stepping on each other's toes.
"That means the final decision will likely come down to the bid price and the business plan," Qin Zhiye concluded.
"Business plans should be similar across the board—these are all large financial groups. None of them will submit weak proposals," Yang Wendong said with a grin. "So in the end, it all comes down to price. The real question is: what's their psychological bottom line?"
Qin Zhiye laughed. "Compared to us, Lijia's capital is still a bit weaker."
"Then this license is mine," Yang Wendong said confidently.
For most, owning a TV station was about making money. But for him, that was secondary. The value of the license far exceeded its short-term commercial return. Economically, it was an uneven playing field—because his goals went beyond business.
This was the final, critical piece in the full cultural industrial chain he was building.
With a television station in hand, once satellite technology matured in the 1980s, he could broadcast into Southeast Asia—reaching a potential audience in the hundreds of millions, especially in the mainland.
More importantly, owning a TV station would allow him to endlessly invest in new drama productions. With enough capital, coupled with expanded distribution, they would have the market—and with that, they could attract top-tier content.
Hong Kong-produced TV dramas would very likely sweep across Asia.
In the original timeline, Hollywood had crushed Hong Kong cinema. But American dramas never had the same impact. At the beginning of the 21st century, Korean dramas exploded across Asia and even mainland China. That showed just how much potential the TV drama market still held.
May 11
The auction for the Hong Kong wireless television license was held inside a commercial building on Des Voeux Road.
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