Chapter 52: The Hunting Grounds

“Yes, the warriors of 1986 started from here,” Chen Xiaoqing reminisced. “I’ve been in this business for nearly thirty years, filmed all sorts of professions, and then one day ‘A Bite of China’ caught fire, and only then did the audience realize there was a foodie like me.”

“Would you be interested in filming some documentaries about orphans?”

Zhuang Chen straightened his back, his eyes alight as he fixed his gaze on the other man. Chen Xiaoqing was taken aback, seeing that Zhuang Chen wasn’t joking. He replied, puzzled, “Of course I’ve thought about it. I’ve even shot a few charitable documentaries, but unfortunately…”

“To be blunt, those sorts of films have too small an audience and rarely attract widespread viewership. You know as well as I do that now, websites and TV stations have only one principle: ratings are king.”

“If you make them, chances are they’ll end up being appreciated only by those who made them. No one would want to waste resources on promotion and distribution. The intention is good, but if, after all the effort, no one watches, what’s the point?”

With a single sentence, he laid the truth bare. Zhuang Chen shook his head and said with conviction, “I want to invest. I’d like you to make a documentary about orphans.”

“This…” Chen Xiaoqing’s face was filled with surprise. Once he was certain Zhuang Chen was serious, he hesitated. “It’s not just about the funding—promotion through various channels is also difficult. Surely you don’t want to make it just for your own enjoyment?”

“Please don’t worry. I’ll take care of all that,” Zhuang Chen said confidently. “Money isn’t the issue; you’ll have full control over the subject and the approach. I trust your team’s professionalism.”

“As for the funding… would five million per film be enough?”

“Five million!” Chen Xiaoqing was startled and quickly interjected, “Absolutely not necessary—are you kidding?”

“Documentaries don’t require celebrities or special effects. The biggest expense is the crew’s food and basic needs. Unless you’re filming wild animals and plants out in the field or needing to travel overseas, there’s no way it’d cost even two million.”

He looked at Zhuang Chen, and after a moment of silence, asked seriously, “Are you really serious?”

Zhuang Chen nodded, his tone earnest. “I definitely want to do charity in the future, but I’m no superhero. Relying on my own strength alone won’t get me far.”

“So I’m preparing to set up a private fund dedicated to helping orphans. Preparations are already underway. I hope you’ll agree, Mr. Chen.”

With that, he stood up, walked over to Chen Xiaoqing, and bowed deeply. Chen Xiaoqing hurriedly helped him up, and looking into the young man’s sincere and resolute eyes, finally nodded. “All right, I’ll do it.”

A slight smile appeared on Zhuang Chen’s face. Filming documentaries was not a sudden impulse, but part of a long-standing plan. Meeting Chen Xiaoqing by chance, trusting in the professionalism of his team—investing some money to test the waters seemed only right.

Resuming their seats, Chen Xiaoqing began to plan. “I’ll discuss it with my team when I return and draft a project proposal and budget for you. Then we can discuss the specifics of how to proceed.”

Zhuang Chen agreed—haste makes waste, and such things can’t be rushed. They exchanged contact information and continued their meal and conversation late into the night.

After seeing Hu Hai to his door, just before Hu got out of the car, he said, “If you need any help with the charity work, I’ll be there without hesitation!”

Zhuang Chen agreed with a smile. There are still many good people in the world, but a few rotten apples have chilled everyone’s hearts. Rather than trust those who line their own pockets, he’d rather personally drive thousands of miles to deliver supplies.

The cost of doing charity grows ever higher, media scrutiny ever greater, and rumors run rampant. How can ordinary people distinguish truth from falsehood?

Rather than risk being deceived,
many simply choose not to donate,
leaving the orphans in welfare homes in pitiful situations.

This isn’t a problem for one person alone, and Zhuang Chen is no fool. Even hundreds of billions, let alone thousands, would barely make a dent.

All he could do was try his best—learn from foreign charitable foundations, operate funds commercially, let money generate more money, approach charity rationally, and let it run steadily and long.

No one is a savior; he, too, has his private interests. He can’t help everyone, so he’ll focus his efforts on helping children who share his own experiences—help one, save one life; help two, save a pair.

He would invest gradually, seek a professional team, operate on a market basis, and have the whole process supervised by law and regulation. Since he didn’t need others to contribute, so long as his conscience was clear, that would be enough.

The next step was to establish the fund. The key was finding the right people. Zhuang Chen returned home, turned on his computer, and began searching online for the necessary procedures and requirements.

There were two main forms: public and non-public fundraising. Companies and individuals fell into the latter category, without the right to solicit public donations and relying entirely on their own resources.

A non-public fund required an initial capital of no less than two million, which had to be actual monetary funds received; a proper name, charter, organizational structure, and staff appropriate to its activities; a fixed address; and the ability to assume independent civil liability.

Companies were keen on setting up charitable funds—not only for legitimate tax breaks, but also to win public attention, build brand value, foster a positive culture, and give employees a sense of security.

In Europe and America, where charitable foundations are well-developed, there is a popular saying: entrepreneur equals philanthropist.

In American society, when judging a respectable businessman, people rarely discuss how much money they’ve made or spent. What they care about is how much the person has donated to charity.

The wealthier the consortium, the greater the donation. In fact, from 2015 to 2017, the famous Gates couple topped the list, but to better promote charitable causes, this year they ceded the top spot to Intel’s founder, the Gordons.

Understanding the procedure roughly, Zhuang Chen knew money was the least of his worries; the real challenge was the team. They had to be loyal, passionate about charity, and possess business acumen—run things professionally, which was giving him a headache.

Xia Long, seeing his boss troubled, offered a suggestion: “Why not try a headhunting firm?”

Zhuang Chen’s eyes lit up. That’s right—why should he worry about such things when he had money?

The next morning, he headed straight for the CBD. If he was going to look, he’d look for the best—Korn Ferry, one of the world’s top five headhunting agencies, a giant already listed on Nasdaq.

In the VIP room, he met with the senior consultant, Zhang Wei, who produced a form and began the introduction. “Thank you for choosing Korn Ferry. I’m sure we won’t disappoint you, Mr. Zhuang.”

“Our company’s business covers many sectors: high-tech, financial services and insurance, industrial manufacturing, consumer goods, life sciences, healthcare, education, culture, entertainment, government, and public welfare.”

“We have more than 7,500 outstanding consultants in over 50 countries, serving more than half of the Fortune 500 companies. More than 60% of our placements are for CEO, CFO, COO, CIO, board members, or other top-level positions.”

Zhuang Chen waved his hand dismissively, “No need for formalities. I’m here because I trust the professionals. You just mentioned public welfare?”

The secretary brought over two cups of coffee. Zhang Wei replied confidently, “May I ask what your project is?”

“A charitable foundation, mainly focused on orphans,” Zhuang Chen replied directly. “I need an entire operations team. The key is a fund manager, as well as an accountant and a legal advisor.”

“I see. Here are two project proposals,” Zhang Wei said, standing up and taking out two documents. “These are examples of our previous cases. The confidentiality period has expired, so you can use them for general reference.”

Zhuang Chen glanced through them—they were indeed very professional. Every role and responsibility was clear, and even the costs had been calculated.

Putting down the proposals, he pondered aloud, “For my fund manager, profitability isn’t the top priority. Loyalty is. Ideally, they should have prior experience in charity work.”

“This…” Zhang Wei was momentarily stunned. A fund manager whose earning ability wasn’t the main consideration? Was he really funding everything himself?

But quickly remembering that this was a client’s privacy, he hurriedly said, “The more specific your requirements, the better. That will help us choose the most suitable candidates for you. Are there any other particular conditions?”