"Bro, you take this thing home first. I'll read the script carefully. Tell Brother Ben that I finish work at 10:30 tonight. If he's free, we can have some tea together at the Peninsula Hotel." Donald Trump took a deep breath, took the Black Star from the script, and discreetly handed it back to Wayne, then put the script away. Seeing this, Wayne said with satisfaction, "Alright, Mr. Brown, you know what's up! I'll go report back to the boss now. If you're not on time tonight, that means you're messing with me, Wayne, and that means you're messing with my boss, Brother Ben!"

"Let's go!" Wayne left with a few henchmen. Donald Trump stayed where he was, pondering for a moment before taking the script and heading back to the set. Charles Grant, John Martin, the script supervisor, and the director all came up to greet him: "Mr. Brown, is everything alright?"

"If there's any trouble, I can contact Boss Shao for you. Do you want to rest a bit more before the afternoon shoot?"

Donald Trump waved his hand and said, "It's nothing, really. Just a boss who sent someone to deliver a script, wants me to be in his film."

Charles Grant pulled Donald Trump aside to a corner to smoke. This time, Donald Trump didn't refuse and lit one up: "Cough, cough."

Charles Grant asked, "Brother Frank, which boss wants to hire you? Why would he send triads to deliver a script? My big brother is an inspector in Central. If there's any trouble..."

Charles Grant was a shrewd guy.

He knew that anyone who could send triads to deliver a script was most likely a triad themselves!

"Thanks, Charles. I'll take a look at the script and think about it." Donald Trump raised his hand to decline. Recently, thanks to the hit show "The Bund," he was negotiating a new contract with Boss Shao, hoping to raise his pay. He didn't want Mr. Shao to use this as an excuse, but if necessary, it would be good to use Charles Grant's connections.

Although he preferred to handle things himself, safety was still the top priority. The way the other party wrapped a gun in the script and brought it to the set was too aggressive—Donald Trump found it a bit much. He tentatively asked, "Charles, how about coming with me for tea tonight?"

"Sure." Charles Grant agreed right away.

Chapter 007: If You Give Face, You Have to Hold It

Tonight.

10:30 PM.

Peninsula Hotel, tea restaurant.

The Peninsula Hotel was known as the "Film People's Teahouse."

Robert Bolton hadn't expected that just sending a random errand boy would be so efficient—he managed to invite Donald Trump for tea the very same day. After making his rounds, he went home to change into a formal suit and tidied up his hair before stepping elegantly into the Peninsula Hotel.

After the lobby greeter politely pushed the revolving door, Robert Bolton led Clark and Wayne up the stairs and into the teahouse on the second floor.

As the "middleman," Wayne enthusiastically led the way, finding Donald Trump and Charles Grant sitting at a corner table. Robert Bolton immediately recognized the two familiar faces, quickened his pace, and warmly reached out to greet them: "Mr. Brown, Mr. Grant, good evening to you both."

Donald Trump saw the well-dressed, polite, and refined man before him and looked a bit surprised, but shook his hand and said, "Hello."

Charles Grant, standing by, felt his heart skip a beat: "He knows my background so well."

"Mr. Brown, Mr. Grant, what would you like to drink?" After sitting down, Robert Bolton raised his hand to call the waiter, handed the menu to Donald Trump.

After taking the menu, Donald Trump glanced at Charles Grant, then handed the menu back and said, "Just a cup of tea for me."

"A pot of pu'er, and a few dim sum dishes. Mr. Brown just finished work, he might be hungry," Robert Bolton instructed the waiter.

Then he turned back to Donald Trump with a smile: "Mr. Brown, I'm actually a fan of yours."

Donald Trump looked a bit dazed. After "The Bund" became a hit, he had discussed a few film projects, but only one had been officially signed—director William Martin's "Silly Girl, Big Fool Detective," which was currently in production.

His big screen career had just begun; he wasn't even considered box office poison yet, so how could he have any "fans"?

To get him to make a movie, they not only brought a gun, but even threw away their pride.

"Thank you, boss. May I ask your name?" Donald Trump thought one thing but said another, keeping a calm face and a smile.

Robert Bolton immediately replied, "Robert Bolton, just call me Ben."

"Clark." He called out.

Lawyer Clark immediately opened his briefcase, took out a business card, and handed it to Donald Trump with both hands, bowing slightly: "Hello, Mr. Brown, this is my boss's business card."

Donald Trump took the plain white card and examined it politely.

"Global DreamWorks Pictures, General Manager, Robert Bolton."

This was Robert Bolton's first step into the legitimate business world—as the head of a small film company. All the registration paperwork was already done. Even though it was an empty shell with no money, it didn't matter. They had guns and knives—no, they had talent and scripts, and would surely attract outstanding artists with vision.

He thought Donald Trump was pretty good!

Donald Trump, on the other hand, thought the company's name was great—grand and artistic, not tacky like "XX Brothers," "X Arts X," or "New XX."

It actually had an artistic vibe.