Dear Big Sister

"Zhang Tielin, you've got one more scene! Stand by for the call!" "Right, on it!" Zhang Tielin could only nod frantically. All he could smell was the foul stench clinging to him. The horse manure might have been fake, but it looked and felt nauseatingly real. He had scrambled across the dirt, tumbled over, and slammed against a table with his bare back. The impact had hurt like hell. He didn't even need to look to know he was covered in black-and-blue bruises. "What a raw deal! Both of you get one yuan a day, yet he's playing Xiangzi while you're eating horse manure. Where's the justice in this world?" Xie Yuan chimed in from the side, fanning the flames. "Get lost!" Zhang Tielin glared at him. "I swear that guy holds a grudge against me. He did it on purpose!" "Planner Chen is such a great person. You're overthinking it!" Zhang Fengyi insisted with absolute conviction. "Bullshit! He recommended you to play Xiangzi, so of course you think he's great. You didn't have to eat horse manure!" When their scenes wrapped for the night, the trio walked off together, bickering all the way. Knowing he had gotten the best deal, Zhang Fengyi just chuckled good-naturedly through their ribbing; his impression of Planner Chen couldn't be better. Little did he know that the role of Xiangzi was originally destined for him anyway, and Chen Qi had simply seized the moment to do him an effortless favor. *** Night had already fallen over the set. Filmmaking in this era was remarkably rigid: day scenes were strictly shot during the day, and night scenes strictly at night, with little room for compromise. If there were no night shoots scheduled, everyone packed up and left once daylight faded—which explained why production efficiency was often so low. Moreover, night scenes relied almost entirely on practical illumination from candles and torches rather than electric lighting rigs. The upside was an authentic, textured look; the downside was a dim, hazy picture. Along half of the ancient street set, genuine torches were lit, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across the flagstone paving and wooden buildings. The flickering flames seemed to stir the lingering ghosts of an old dynasty. Tonight's shoot featured Yang Yugan infiltrating Prince Duan's Manor under cover of darkness, only to be discovered, leading to a rooftop-chasing sequence through the streets. This had been Chen Qi's idea. While they couldn't have actors soaring into the air with a stomp of their feet like in *Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon*, having someone sprint a few steps along a wall, catch the eaves, and vault onto a roof remained relatively grounded in reality. As Chen Qi had put it, they were pushing the contemporary martial arts genre to its absolute limit. Li Lianjie could execute most of the movements himself, but a few required wirework. With Xiong Xinxin's accident still fresh in his mind, Li Lianjie felt nervous and checked repeatedly, "Is it really safe? You swear it's fine? I'm trusting you guys with my life!" "We're pulling the wires ourselves, so what are you scared of? Just focus on the flip!" Wang Qun said. "Alright, let's do it!" Li Lianjie sprinted down the street, suddenly sprang upward, and planted his feet against the wall, taking several swift steps along the vertical surface. For someone with his training, this was hardly difficult—not unlike modern parkour. Immediately after came the upward vault. His heart was in his throat, but following Yuen Woo-ping's coaching, he threw all his strength into a leap. "Pull!" Yu Chenghui and Yu Hai personally manned the rigging. Pulling wires was brute labor that also demanded finesse; not just anyone could do it. Like an agile sparrowhawk, Li Lianjie sailed up to the second-floor balcony of a tavern in one seamless, breathtaking arc. "Cut! Beautiful!" Li Wenhua leaped to his feet in excitement. By now, he was functioning essentially as the dramatic director, leaving the action entirely to Yuen Woo-ping and Chen Qi. Even so, having such a pioneering shot in mainland cinema emerge from his own production was a milestone he would gladly claim. "Brilliant! Good lad, Kit-jai!" Yuen Woo-ping cheered as well, growing fonder of the kid by the day. The Yuen Clan Stunt Team's biggest weakness was the lack of a bankable star. If he could bring this boy back to Hong Kong, his career would take off in no time. Yu Hai, Yu Chenghui, and the others hurried over, clapping Li Lianjie on the shoulder and offering words of encouragement. Ever since Xiong Xinxin's fall, they had lost faith in the studio's crew. They insisted that their own people handle the rigging and inspect the gear. That was it: their own people. They had naturally banded together into a tight-knit circle, and they regarded Chen Qi as one of their own. This was precisely the result Chen Qi had sought. These dozen or so martial artists were the core of his future action team—leads, supporting actors, villains, and behind-the-scenes talent, all in place! As for the dramatic side? The roster was still relatively thin: Gong Xue, Ge You, Liang Xiaosheng, little Jiang Shan, and perhaps Zhang Fengyi's cohort. He would have to scout more talent down the road. And building a team meant one thing: he would be the boss. After watching Li Lianjie's scene, Chen Qi turned and walked to the outer perimeter. A few tables and chairs stood behind a makeshift curtain, serving as a temporary dressing and makeup area. Gong Xue was sitting politely on a chair, waiting for her turn. She had a shot coming up shortly. "Tired?" "Not at all, wide awake. Did the take work out?" "Yeah, went great!" Seeing that no one was around, Chen Qi drew the concept designs for *Wrong Turn* and *The Descent* from his bag. "I need another favor from you. More drawings, I'm afraid." "More scripts? Why do you always have to include illustrations?" "Without them, I'm worried they won't know how to shoot it! What if they end up making the monster look like a cartoon robotic cat? That'd ruin the whole thing. A horror movie has to actually scare people!" he sighed, having worried himself sick over the left-wing studio's prospects. Gong Xue took the binder, flipped through a few pages, and frowned. "Mutated, deformed cannibals? Can't you write something normal for once? It's bad enough that you write this stuff, but you have to make me draw it? I studied traditional Chinese painting, and you want me painting mutated cannibals!" She was mildly exasperated. She viewed painting as an art form. Helping him on *The Miracle Fighters* had been a gesture of gratitude, but he couldn't keep dumping these grotesque assignments on her, could he? "Because you're the only one who can help me!" "You know so many people. Can't you find a single other person?" "Honestly, you're the only one gentle, kindhearted, and loyal enough to lend a hand." Chen Qi crouched before her like an eager puppy, peering up with a wheedling grin. "What will it take for you to draw them? What if I call you my dear big sister?" "You! Don't you dare talk nonsense!" Gong Xue flared red as if set ablaze, the blush spreading from her cheeks all the way to the tips of her ears. Fortunately, the dim night light concealed it from plain view. At the same time, an inexplicable, tingling sensation crept up her spine and prickled the back of her head. She rushed to suppress the feeling. It was downright terrifying! *Wait...* Chen Qi felt as though he had just discovered uncharted territory. Her reaction to that address was huge! He'd definitely have to use it more often—the more he called her that, the closer they'd get. "So, will you help me or not?" "..." Gong Xue pursed her lips, but in the end, she slid the pages into her bag. She realized with a start that she simply couldn't bring herself to turn down his requests. A moment later, she was called for her scene and hurried off toward the set. Watching Gong Xue effortlessly handle her acting opposite Li Lianjie, Chen Qi was suddenly struck by an uncomfortable realization. Gong Xue had contributed to *The Miracle Fighters* too, yet he had pocketed the entire ten-thousand-yuan script fee without sharing a single cent of her due credit. *Well, isn't that awkward!* He scratched his head. Handing her raw cash would be tacky; he'd have to find the right opportunity to buy her some nice gifts to make up for it. *** *Smack! Crack!* Having just been discharged from the hospital, Xiong Xinxin unleashed his kicking techniques with relentless fury, launching a torrential assault on Li Lianjie. Li Lianjie countered movement with stillness, overcoming hardness with softness. Weathering the initial barrage, he swiftly threw Xiong Xinxin off balance. Xiong Xinxin was launched airborne once more, flying two or three meters high before crashing against a specially padded wall, cushioning the impact before tumbling to the floor. "Cut!" "How is it? Are you alright?" Li Wenhua called out anxiously, terrified of another accident. "I'm fine! How could I be unlucky enough to get hurt every single time?" Xiong Xinxin hopped up nimbly, stretching his arms and legs to prove he was unhurt. Li Wenhua let out a sigh of relief and looked over at Yuen Woo-ping, who gave a firm thumbs-up. "Great! That scene is a wrap!" "The first tier of the Tower of Seven Heroes is cleared!" Cheers erupted across the set. Xiong Xinxin's brief hospital stay had, if anything, pulled the crew even closer together. Everyone felt as though they were fighting through the tower alongside Yang Yugan—first tier, second tier, third tier, all the way to the very top! *Morale is high!* Chen Qi smiled with quiet satisfaction. At this rate, they would ride this momentum straight through and knock this movie out of the park.