My teacher is Bruce Lee, who dominated Hollywood.

Chapter 68 Rocky Returns

"clang!"

The spoon scraped across the bottom of the plate, scooping the last bit of fried rice into a big mouth.

Stallone licked his lips reluctantly and patted his belly with satisfaction.

"My God..." he sighed, "I swear, this is the best thing I've ever eaten in my life."

Inside the restaurant, everyone sat in a circle, all staring at the dusty, burly man.

His leather jacket was covered in stains, his stubble was messy, and his slightly droopy eyes looked unusually excited.

Just now, Qin Han revealed the man's background—he was someone Qin Han had specifically gone to Hell's Kitchen in New York to "fish" out of him.

Andrew looked at him incredulously: "This is the 'vicious dog' you keep talking about? Besides its gluttony, I don't see anything special about it!"

Qin Han smiled as he collected the dishes, then gestured with his chin to Stallone: ​​"Give them to me, shall we?"

Stallone pulled a thick stack of papers from the old backpack at his feet.

"Rocky." His distinctive voice echoed through the restaurant: "This is the first draft I wrote after two sleepless nights in Hell's Kitchen."

"However... I've seen and thought a lot while cycling across the entire United States."

"I don't think it's perfect yet; it needs further polishing."

Qin Han picked up the script and quickly flipped through it.

Although the layout is a bit messy, the familiar plot and the prototypes of those classic lines are vividly presented.

The indomitable cries of ordinary people at the bottom of society have already penetrated the pages and struck straight to people's hearts.

"It's already quite complete." Qin Han closed the script and looked at Stallone. "What specific parts would you like to change?"

Stallone's eyes gleamed even brighter: "The night I arrived in Memphis was the night of your ring match."

"When I saw you in the ring, facing that arrogant Japanese guy, that explosive power of a counterattack... I suddenly understood what a true fighter should feel when he stands in the ring. I want to incorporate all those feelings into my story."

"Loki shouldn't be just a brute who throws punches; he should have a soul, love, and fear."

It seems he is ready to infuse Rocky with a true soul.

Qin Han nodded in satisfaction and slammed the script on the table: "I support your idea. I'll take this script. Name your price, Sly."

However, Stallone did not rush to ask for money.

He rubbed his hands together vigorously on his knees, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Qin, to be honest, I don't really have a concrete idea of ​​what the price is. But I have one condition."

"The only condition."

"Speak," Qin Han said, seemingly having anticipated this.

"Rocky... I have to play him." Stallone raised his head, his eyes burning with an almost obsessive flame: "No one understands Rocky better than me."

"Because... I am Rocky!"

Andrew frowned. After this period of experience, he was very familiar with the rules of Hollywood—if a new screenwriter's script was accepted, they would usually take the money and leave.

Want to bring your own script and land a lead role?

Unless you're the investor's favorite son.

"Sly," he tried to reassure his new friend, "you've never acted in Hollywood before, so there might be some resistance from the studios if you were to star in it."

"No." Stallone shook his head, unyielding. "If I can't play Rocky, I won't sell this script."

"Even if it rots in the mud, I'll accept it."

Looking at his stubborn appearance, Qin Han felt a surge of emotion.

No wonder he's the man who rejected United Beauty's $36 buyout offer.

In his memory, he was so poor that he could only sell his dog, but when faced with a huge sum of money that could change his fate, he gritted his teeth and said "no," all for that seemingly absurd dream of being the protagonist.

In the end, with a screenwriting fee of 20,000 yuan and zero pay, he cobbled together an Oscar-winning film, achieving both fame and fortune.

This almost foolish persistence is the best illustration of the "Rocky spirit".

"Andrew, stop talking." Qin Han interrupted his assistant, who was about to speak, and looked at Stallone with a smile:

"Sly, Hans Films is a talent agency, and our working relationship is very flexible."

"I not only want to buy your script, I also want to sign you as a contract."

"Don't worry, the protagonist of Rocky can only be you."

Upon hearing this, Stallone's tense shoulders instantly relaxed.

"Thank you, Qin." His voice trembled slightly. "I'm so lucky to have met you."

"A million times luckier than that unfortunate schoolteacher I met in Memphis."

"A schoolteacher?"

"Yes, I met him at a taco store. He came all the way from Maine to see the concert, saying it was a benefit from his union."

Qin Han's attention was instantly focused: This was intelligence that the system had sent him!

Stallone wiped his face, calmed himself down, and continued, "That guy came with his wife."

"The two of them looked just like me, penniless, their cotton-padded coats were all second-hand."

"He kept complaining that his novel was being rejected by publishers like crazy, something about... a high school witch?"

He shook his head and sighed, "I wonder if he'll ever make it through."

Qin Han felt a chill run down his spine. Good heavens!

From Maine? A high school girl with magical powers? A teacher whose manuscripts are constantly being rejected?

Isn't this Stephen King and his breakthrough film, Carrie?!

That's the future king of horror novels, one of Hollywood's biggest IP gold mines!

The Shining, The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile... which one isn't a classic in film history?

Qin Han suppressed his overwhelming joy and looked at Stallone with exceptional fervor: "Sly, we're about to fly to Hong Kong to film 'Enter the Dragon'."

"You can choose an empty room to stay in. Andrew will arrange the contract and salary for you, and finish revising the Rocky script as quickly as possible."

"Then, could you please fly to Maine?"

"Maine?" Stallone asked, bewildered. "What for?"

"Go find that schoolteacher!" Qin Han's eyes gleamed. "On behalf of Han's Film Industry, pay a visit to this gentleman."

"I'd like to see what he's written, and if possible, I can help him contact a publisher."

Sylvester Stallone was completely dumbfounded, scratching his curly hair, his face full of confusion: "Qin, you haven't even read what he wrote! Just based on a few casual complaints of mine?"

"Besides, Maine is such a big state, how am I supposed to find him?"

"Didn't you just say they went to the concert through union benefits? Contact the union and you can get the list."

Qin Han smiled and pushed Rocky's script in front of Stallone: ​​"You're right. Only those who have taken a punch in the ring know what a true fighter is."

"I think the same applies to writing."

"Only those who have experienced the hardships of life and struggled in the mire of despair can write words that move people's hearts."

"You are like that, and I believe that someone who can persist in writing despite poverty must be the same."

Stallone looked at the man in front of him with a burning gaze and felt an aura he had never seen before.

It's as if anything is possible if you just believe in him!

He touched his full beard: "Well... I just came from the East Coast..."

"Fortunately, this time I can travel by plane!"