Liu Xiaoqing was the oldest at thirty, with a career track record boasting one Golden Rooster Best Actress award and three Hundred Flowers Best Actress awards.
Zhang Jinling was twenty-nine. She would retire quite early and had never won an award.
Li Xiuming was twenty-six, with one Golden Rooster and one Hundred Flowers to her name. Her representative works were *Xu Mao and His Daughters* and *The Peacock Princess*, and she had also played Yuanchun in the film adaptation of *Dream of the Red Chamber*—she was the one who had replaced Gong Xue in *Qiu Jin*.
Li Xiuming was a very clever woman. During the commercial wave of the 1990s, she and her husband opened a company outside the Beijing Film Studio selling potato chips under the brand name "Dajiabao." With hardly any domestic potato chips around at the time, the brand became an instant hit.
Within two years, annual revenue reached forty million yuan, after which she sold it to PepsiCo for hundreds of millions, instantly achieving financial freedom and retiring comfortably in Canada...
Gong Xue currently had no achievements to speak of and was a newcomer. Aside from Zhang Jinling showing genuine warmth, she could faintly sense a certain, well, competitive edge from the other two.
"Xiao Gong, how is your martial arts film coming along?" Zhang Jinling asked.
"Very well. Everything's going smoothly. In a few days, we'll be heading out for location shooting."
"Oh, we're quite busy too," Li Xiuming said. "All three of us are in *Xu Mao and His Daughters*."
"That's right, she's the lead, and we're just playing supporting roles to back her up!" Liu Xiaoqing laughed.
"Hey now, don't put it like that. You two support me this time, and I'll support you next time."
Li Xiuming smiled, then said, "You're older than me, so let me call you Sister Xue. You really have it good—even I'm jealous. Two leading roles right out of the gate... Ah, both written by that young prodigy screenwriter, weren't they?
"He's quite an odd fellow. One romance, one martial arts film. I'm not saying they're bad, but I just feel that sort of genre is a bit... a bit..."
*Vulgar!*
She didn't voice the word, but the implication was unmistakable.
"Please don't say that. Both films are very good."
"My, I never said they weren't, yet here you are defending them already... Oh, I'm only joking, don't take it to heart!"
Li Xiuming giggled. Gong Xue bit her lip, suddenly despising her own clumsiness. She didn't even know how to argue; the harshest thing she could ever muster was merely, *You're crossing the line!*
It was Zhang Jinling who stepped in to smooth things over, saying, "Xiuming, don't pick on her. Xiao Gong is my little sister; I won't let you off easy!"
"How could I? We're all colleagues now, just teasing!"
"..."
Liu Xiaoqing quietly watched the spectacle unfold without a word.
After finishing breakfast, Gong Xue hurried off to the soundstage without complaining to anyone. Ever since her parents had been dragged out for criticism when she was a teenager and she herself had been called onto the sports grounds for a public dressing-down, she had grown used to keeping things to herself.
It was another routine day of shooting.
Toward evening, as filming wrapped, Li Wenhua walked into the center of the set and raised a bullhorn. "Listen up, everyone!"
"Most of the fight scenes are basically wrapped. There are just a few simpler fight sequences left for the location shoot. Action Director Yuen worked it out with us and pre-choreographed them, so we can handle those ourselves.
"Time flies like a wild donkey—it's already been almost two months in the blink of an eye.
"The two action directors still have business back in Hong Kong and must return. We thank them for everything they've done and for all their hard work. In a little while, we'll gather at the cafeteria for a small farewell dinner. I specially had the head chef prepare roast duck.
"The roast duck made by our Beijing Film Studio chef smells even better than Quanjude!"
"Hahaha!"
Amid the laughter, Yuen Woo-ping and Yuen Cheung-yan said a few words before everyone headed straight for the cafeteria.
The roast duck prepared by the head chef was indeed excellent. Chen Qi brought over some liquor, and they ate and drank together. The Yuen brothers had enjoyed a pleasant experience on this trip, forming genuine camaraderie and at least making a circle of friends on the mainland.
Naturally, the one they were most reluctant to part with was Li Lianjie.
"Little Jie, how wonderful it would be if you could come to Hong Kong! We'd surely groom you into the biggest kung fu superstar, even bigger than Jackie Chan!"
"Who's Jackie Chan?"
"The hottest star back home! Earlier this year, his *The Young Master* took eleven million at the box office. Since Hong Kong opened as a port, that's the only film ever to break ten million."
"Is ten million a lot? Any random screening run on the mainland can hit ten million, can't it?"
Li Lianjie was innocent and lacked social tact. The Yuen brothers choked for a moment before scrambling to save face: "The Hong Kong market is small, but an actor's salary is huge! Golden Harvest paid him four million per film and signed him for three pictures all at once!"
*Pfft!*
Li Lianjie spat out the Arctic Ocean soda in his mouth, incredulous. "Four million? Three pictures would be twelve million?!"
"Of course!"
"Whoa!"
Even as someone who had seen the world, Li Lianjie was rocked by the sheer magnitude of such wealth, stirred to restless excitement by the Yuen brothers' teasing.
"Hey, hey, hey, don't go corrupting a kid!"
Chen Qi walked over with a bottle of liquor and poured drinks for the two brothers. "Have you two ever considered what happens if every Hong Kong actor demands astronomical pay? Production costs will soar. Sooner or later, you'll be crushed under the burden. You'll cut budgets, compromise on quality, and trigger a vicious cycle."
"No way," Yuen Cheung-yan replied proudly. "We sell to overseas markets! That revenue is more than enough to fund our movies. Even Hollywood can't beat us in Hong Kong."
"And you think you can rely on overseas markets forever? What goes up must come down—where in this world is there an undefeated champion? Any country or region will protect its own domestic industries first. What will you do if they issue policies restricting imported films?
"Then there's your biggest market, Taiwan. Taiwan has always wagged its tail for the United States. If Hollywood decides to force its way in, do you really think Taiwan would dare say no?"
After speaking his piece, Chen Qi ignored them, turned around, and said, "And as for you, stop daydreaming about things beyond your reach. Could you even go to Hong Kong? Would the wushu team let you walk away?"
"Can't a guy even think about it?" Li Lianjie muttered gloomily.
"Once you finish this, you still have *The Shaolin Temple*. Focus on doing your job well first."
Having indulged in playing teacher for a moment, Chen Qi took his liquor and went off to mingle with others, looking for all the world like a social butterfly.
Finally, he made his way over to the representative from the Great Wall Film Company, poured him a full cup, and said with a smile, "If you have time later, please come by the guesthouse. I have a few things I'd like you to pass along to Comrade Fu Chi and Comrade Shi Hui."
"Oh? What sort of things?"
"You've been a tremendous help to us. As a mere scholar, I don't possess much skill, so I can only wield my pen. I hope you won't look down on it."
* * *
"I'm not drunk! Not drunk at all!"
"No need to hold me—look, I can walk in a straight line... Holy crap!"
When the banquet finally ended, everyone had their fill of drink, supporting one another in pairs and trios back to rest.
The representative from Great Wall followed Chen Qi to Room 302. Chen Qi locked the door behind them, pulled two notebooks out of a drawer, and said, "Let me declare up front: I sincerely hope you can rise again in Hong Kong, rebuild your former glory, and become even greater than before!
"I, too, am willing to offer my modest contribution!"
"..."
Seeing his sudden gravity, the other man felt a surge of emotion. The leftists truly had it rough, squeezed in the middle and caught between two worlds. Every time someone returned to the mainland, people would tell them, *You must hold the front line in Hong Kong!*
Whether they could hold the front line depended entirely on mainland support, didn't it?
Take last year's Congress of Literary and Art Workers, for instance. The leadership wanted Xia Meng to keep making films, yet provided no funds—not that anyone could blame them, since the state was genuinely short on money. In the end, it was Henry Fok who donated a sum to support the motherland's arts. Originally intending to donate to the Hong Kong branch of Xinhua News Agency, the branch could not accept donations due to its special status, so the money went to Xia Meng instead.
Only then was Xia Meng able to establish Bluebird Movie Enterprises.
In short, the leftists were neglected by all sides, yet somehow saddled with heavy responsibilities. Chen Qi's solemn words warmed the representative's heart. He said, "I will definitely convey your message. Thank you for your support!"
With that, he flipped open the notebooks. The moment his eyes fell upon the pages, he trembled all over.
"Th-this... what is this?!"
Chapter 107