Taking over the "Blue Ocean Project," Martin felt like he had struck gold.
Wang Yongqing's Formosa Plastics Group had navigated countless arduous negotiations, often backtracking after progress, to secure what could be described as overly generous terms—terms that left mainland China feeling shortchanged.
Martin believed that besides Wang Yongqing, few could negotiate such a deal. Wang's business philosophy emphasized maximizing every opportunity, often squeezing profits from every aspect of a venture.
Wang's famed "Fishbone Theory" illustrated this approach: in any business or internal matter, costs are broken down into their smallest elements, meticulously analyzed, and optimized. Every "bone" of the "fish" is slimmed down to its bare essentials.
For the colossal $7 billion investment of the "Blue Ocean Project," Wang's philosophy was in full swing. Even after China's top leader personally endorsed the agreement, Wang audaciously renegotiated terms to test the government's limits.
Wang's confidence stemmed from his status as a global business magnate. As the founder of a Fortune 500 company, he was welcomed by heads of state worldwide, exuding an aura that matched their own.
His provocations eventually forced the Chinese government—keen on the collaboration—to concede further.
However, Wang redirected his investments to the "Sixth Naphtha Cracker Project" in Taiwan, effectively shelving the "Blue Ocean Project" after nearly five years of talks.
This move angered the Chinese government but left them helpless; after all, it was a commercial decision. Without a signed contract, the deal was not legally binding. Retaliating would only harm future business prospects with other investors.
The abrupt suspension left 15,000 hectares of designated land in limbo, a painful reminder of the dashed plans.
Martin's timely intervention not only resolved this impasse but also won him favor with the Chinese government. His willingness to sign without haggling stood in stark contrast to Wang's penny-pinching.
Of course, Martin's readiness stemmed from the fact that Wang had already pushed China's concessions to their limits.
In the original timeline, Wang's actions alienated the Chinese government, paving the way for the rise of Chinese energy giants. While Formosa Plastics later sought to mend relations—often donating during disasters—the missed opportunity for China's economic boom played a role in the company's decline.
Having seized a fantastic deal and gained goodwill, Martin returned to Los Angeles in high spirits.
Shortly after, he joined the crew in New York to begin filming Step Up.
This film was a simple love story centered around stunning choreography, youthful passion, and sizzling chemistry. There were no explosive action sequences or elaborate CGI.
The production largely revolved around energetic parties, intense dance battles, and scenes set in schools and theaters. Most of the budget went to paying cast and crew, with Martin's salary being the largest expense.
Even with Martin's paycheck, the total investment was under $40 million, categorizing it as a low-budget production. Martin decided to fully fund it through Myers Studios, confident in its potential.
Director Anne Fletcher had meticulously planned every detail. By the time Martin returned, locations were scouted, and Jessica had finished her rigorous dance training.
Jessica had endured significant hardships to prepare for the role. Fletcher believed the film's appeal lay in the authenticity of its lead actors' performances and their dance moves.
To emphasize this, Fletcher insisted that neither Martin nor Jessica use stunt doubles or special effects for their dance sequences. Even minor scenes required their personal involvement. She also aimed to minimize post-production dubbing, ensuring every moment felt raw and genuine.
Martin fully supported this vision.
Jessica, however, bore the brunt of the challenge. But her efforts paid off. That very evening, she showcased a sultry dance for Martin, her fluid movements and enticing curves igniting a fire in him.
Martin responded in kind, matching her energy with his own impeccable dance moves. One thing led to another, and the two soon found themselves in an intimate "dance" of their own.
"Martin Myers is making a musical?"
"Hahaha! Is this kid trying to ride the coattails of my Chicago?"
In Miramax's office, Harvey laughed uproariously, his jowls quivering with delight.
Quentin Tarantino sat on the couch, distracted by the wobbling folds of Harvey's double chin.
Despite Martin's higher status, Harvey harbored disdain for him.
"That boy is delusional. Does he really think making a musical is that easy? Mark my words—I can already see him failing spectacularly!"
Quentin remained expressionless. He had heard this every time Martin released a movie, and Harvey had never been right.
Finally, Quentin interjected, "So, Harvey, when's Kill Bill hitting theaters?"
That was his real reason for visiting. He had no interest in Harvey's endless ranting about Martin.
Truth be told, Quentin himself was tempted to work with Martin if it weren't for Harvey's support. The young actor-director had soared far beyond their reach, even leaving Harvey in the dust.
The thought still baffled him.
Harvey snapped back to the topic. "I've got it scheduled for early October. If it happens to go head-to-head with Martin's dance flick, even better!"
Quentin thought to himself, No, that's not better at all.
Just then, Harvey grinned mischievously and asked, "By the way, is it true you were caught licking Uma Thurman's feet on set?"