Li Han-hsiang

"Do you think we could do it like this?" "Skip the wide shot entirely. Just cut to Yang Yugan's hands in a flurry of motion, then snap to the next shot—Feng Hualian is already tied up and strung from the beam." Inside the editing room, Chen Qi was consulting cordially with the senior master editor, as was their routine. After working together over these past several days, the veteran editor had developed a better feel for *Tai Chi*, and he genuinely found this rapid, punchy editing style much more compelling. His surname was Fu. He had been reported by someone at the studio for taking freelance gigs on the side, which cost him his chance at Party membership. Without Party membership, certain professional titles and benefits were out of reach, leaving the old man deeply embittered and sour toward almost everyone. Still, having accepted Chen Qi's favors, he treated the young man fairly well. They occasionally chatted, and over time he even felt a sense of shared misfortune—after all, both had been reported by petty snitches. "We can cut it that way, sure. But this knotting technique of yours is pretty unusual. Where did you learn it?" The old editor peered at the raw footage on the monitor. Feng Hualian was a ninja, adept with flying claws, ropes, and the like. After a fierce clash with Yang Yugan, she was ultimately tied up in a style known as "rope art" and strung from the rafters. Naturally, this had been Chen Qi's idea. In his past life, he had played around with it—or rather, seen others play around with it... "Director Li Wenhua came up with it. I have no idea. Let's just cut it that way." Chen Qi shifted the blame as usual. While the two of them were studying the footage, someone suddenly stepped in from the hall and called, "Xiao Chen, the studio head wants you in his office." "Oh, alright!" Chen Qi stood up and left the editing room, heading straight for the main building. Downstairs, he noticed a sedan parked out front and wondered, *Who's visiting?* *** Inside the studio head's office, Wang Yang was entertaining a guest. The visitor had thick eyebrows and narrow eyes behind black-framed glasses, dark skin, a wide mouth, and wore a respectable suit and tie. His hair was meticulously combed. An aura of refined scholarship and sharp cunning seemed to permeate him in equal measure. His name was Li Han-hsiang, and he was fifty-four years old this year. Born in Liaoning and raised in Beijing, he had a background in painting before heading to Hong Kong in 1947 to break into the film industry. There, he became a trailblazing figure and one of Hong Kong's foremost directors. His signature works included *The Kingdom and the Beauty*, *The Love Eterne*, *The Enchanting Shadow*, *The Warlord*, *Legends of Lust*, and *The Golden Lotus*. Jackie Chan had even played a minor role in *The Golden Lotus*—the story of Ximen Qing and Pan Jinlian—appearing as Brother Yun, the pear peddler. That film faithfully recreated the scene where "Pan Jinlian hangs upside down from a grape trellis": Jinlian, her legs spread wide, was tied to the trellis while Ximen Qing sat opposite, taking aim and tossing grapes right into her intimate parts... There was no need to dwell on Li Han-hsiang's illustrious career. Suffice it to say that his mastery of classical Chinese aesthetics was immense, and he had an ardent passion for historical drama. Yet Hong Kong was hardly a place where authentic historical epics could be made. Furthermore, he was under contract with Shaw Brothers—and as everyone knew, Shaw Brothers was all about making money. Li Han-hsiang loved two things above all: classical culture and erotic romance. To cater to the market, he merged the two, pioneering a unique genre: the classical erotic film. Hong Kong did not adopt a film rating system until the late 1980s, which was when the label "Category III" was born; before that, they were simply called erotic romance films. So a classical erotic film was, plain and simple, a period-costume softcore flick. Li Han-hsiang churned these out for years until 1978, when he secretly traveled north to the mainland to visit relatives and friends. Back then, he had visited Beijing Film Studio and met Wang Yang. His mainland peers strongly urged him to return and direct, and Li Han-hsiang, eager to make genuine classical films, gladly agreed. His initial choice was Lao She's *Teahouse*, planned as a collaboration with Beijing Film Studio. But after second and third thoughts, he worried he might not do it justice. Next, he set his sights on Puyi's *The First Half of My Life*, but word came down from the authorities: some of the people depicted in the book were still alive, and history had yet to deliver its final verdict on them, so a different subject was advised. After turning it over and over, Li Han-hsiang decided to depict Empress Dowager Cixi's era, which later became *The Burning of the Imperial Palace* and *Reign Behind a Curtain*. A partnership with Changchun Film Studio had already been settled and signed the previous year. However, Changchun ran into budget troubles and couldn't produce the funds. With progress stalled on the mainland and Shaw Brothers pressing him to renew his contract, Li Han-hsiang had to make a living. He had no choice but to return to Hong Kong and keep making films for Shaw Brothers. "It's been so long, Old Director! You're looking as robust as ever!" Speaking in fluent Beijing dialect, he was thoroughly engaging. "This time, Rongbaozhai is celebrating its thirtieth anniversary. Over two hundred luminaries from all walks of life have gathered, and I was fortunate enough to be invited. That's what brought me north again, so I stopped by to pay you a visit." "You're an expert in antiques and curios, so you certainly ought to go. I don't know the first thing about them; going would be a waste of time for me." Wang Yang wasn't smoking his usual hand-rolled cigarettes today. Instead, he was puffing on foreign cigarettes Li Han-hsiang had brought, though he found them lacking a strong kick. He asked, "Any progress on that film of yours?" "Not yet. The mainland side still hasn't put forward a concrete plan, so I can't start production. The script has gone through several drafts already. I'm visiting the playwright tomorrow, and the day after that, I'm heading back... Sigh!" Li Han-hsiang sounded a bit downcast as he sighed. "I just signed a ten-picture deal with Shaw Brothers. Guess I'll keep slaving away for them." "Still making your erotic films?" "What else? Erotic films sell, and that old fox Shao Yifu never loses money. By the way, I heard your studio is filming *Teahouse*?" "Xie Tian is directing. The original cast from Beijing People's Art Theatre took the field—Yu Shizhi, Zheng Rong, Lan Tianye, Ying Ruocheng, Huang Zongluo, every single one of them." "Stop, stop, you're making my mouth water!" Li Han-hsiang offered a self-deprecating laugh. "Once a director makes a name for himself, he starts cherishing his reputation too much. I was afraid of botching *Teahouse* and ruining my brand. Hearing you talk about it makes me regret it all over again. If only I'd stuck to my guns back then!" *Knock, knock, knock!* "Come in!" Just then, Chen Qi knocked and stepped inside. Spotting the man on the sofa, he was pleasantly surprised. *Oh wow, isn't that Li Han-hsiang—Li the Black?* He had to pretend they had never met, of course. "Studio Head, you were looking for me?" "Come over here, Xiao Chen! Let me introduce you to a great director from Hong Kong!" Wang Yang rose with a smile to make the introduction personally. "This is one of our studio's young screenwriters. He's already written three screenplays for Great Wall." Li Han-hsiang took pride in being a man of letters and carried a haughty air. Had Wang Yang mentioned *Romance on Mount Lu*, he wouldn't have cared in the slightest; but hearing that this young fellow had written three scripts for Great Wall, he couldn't help sizing Chen Qi up with considerable surprise. "How old are you this year?" "Twenty!" *Twenty!* Li Han-hsiang raised an eyebrow, silently conceding that the kid had earned the right to sit in the same room. He certainly hadn't been this impressive at twenty. Chen Qi inwardly rolled his eyes. *Tch! You look down on me? I look down on you just as much. You've pulled your share of dirty tricks.* Still, there was no need to be petty. Whatever Li Han-hsiang had done amounted, at most, to personal moral lapses typical of literary types. Hadn't he signed that ten-picture deal with Shaw Brothers? Before finishing it, he would run north to film *The Burning of the Imperial Palace* and *Reign Behind a Curtain*. Shaw Brothers would report him, leading to him being blacklisted in Hong Kong and Taiwan, leaving him no choice but to make movies on the mainland—and bringing along Tony Leung Ka-fai in the bargain, making him a prime target for the united front. At this moment, Li Han-hsiang was looking over the young fellow. Little did he know, the youngster was already scheming how to rope him in. Wang Yang, hoping to give Chen Qi more exposure before the renowned director, smiled and said, "Don't let his youth fool you; he loves collecting antiques too. He has two chairs in his room from... er, was it the Qing dynasty or the Ming dynasty?" "Ming dynasty. Two chairs." "Right, right! And old books and such, piled all over his place." "Oh? You have a taste for that as well?" Li Han-hsiang's eyes lit up. "Just a modest interest. Whenever I'm free, I browse around. A lot of fine treasures are scattered among ordinary households these days. I've even seen families using Qianlong porcelain to pickle vegetables. It breaks my heart." "Precisely! It falls upon our generation to collect and preserve them, so pearls are not left covered in dust!" Li Han-hsiang had spent a lifetime collecting antiques—entrusting them all to Ma Weidu before his death, or so Ma Weidu claimed. Unable to sit still any longer, he said, "Such a rare chance! How about we head over to your place and take a look at those chairs?"