Gong Xue knew Yang Jie was older than Wang Chongqiu, but she had never imagined the age gap was this wide. She asked, "How did the two of you get through it together back then?"
"Well, we worked in the same unit. He was a cinematographer and I was a director, so our paths crossed constantly on the job. At first, the idea never even crossed my mind. What would a young fellow in his twenties want with me, right? But as time went on and we spent more time together, we found we suited each other quite well.
"I don't mind you laughing—I know I have a strong, domineering personality, whereas Chongqiu happens to be gentle and accommodating. He listens to me on everything, which I think is wonderful!" Yang Jie said cheerfully.
"Did no one oppose it?"
"What do you think? You should be asking if anyone supported it..."
Yang Jie grew wistful as memories resurfaced. "Back then, not a single soul approved. The unit leadership was against it, our friends were against it, and my parents had long passed away, leaving only my younger sister—who opposed it even more fiercely. After all, she was older than Chongqiu.
"Gossip swirled around us constantly. People said I was an old cow grazing on young grass, asking whether I was looking for a husband or a son. Others said Chongqiu was flattering me and after my family background... It was all utter nonsense—what background did I have?
"In short, it was an all-out chorus of condemnation. But I was born with a stubborn streak. The more people told me not to do something, the more determined I was to do it. To hell with what they thought! And so, all these years have passed. Still, sometimes I can't help but reflect: I'm getting older and older, while Chongqiu is still in his prime. If back then..."
Yang Jie paused, then gave a sudden wave of her hand and smiled. "Forget it, let's not dwell on that!"
With every word she spoke, Gong Xue's face grew a shade paler. Just then, Chen Qi and Wang Chongqiu returned carrying four large mugs freshly filled with hot water. "What are you two chatting about?"
"Our itinerary," Yang Jie replied. "I want to visit Shanghai Film Studio, Shanghai Theatre Academy, the song and dance troupe, and the quyi troupe first, then take a trip around Zhejiang. Are you coming along with us?"
"I'll tag along with you," Chen Qi said. "I need to go to Zhejiang to check on *The Shaolin Temple*. Once I've seen it, I'll head back on my own."
"That works. In that case, you can stay at the guesthouse with us."
Chen Qi turned around and noticed Gong Xue looked unwell. "What's the matter?"
"It feels a bit stuffy in here, and I'm not feeling well. I'll go stand in the aisle for a while."
Gong Xue stood up and walked over.
It was already winter. The windows were shut tight, and the carriage was chilly, making for a truly uncomfortable ride.
Time on a train always seemed to pass both quickly and slowly. The four of them ate, chatted, and took occasional naps as the sky swiftly darkened. Outside, pitch-black night enveloped everything, and the lights inside the carriage were dim. The train halted at every station as passengers boarded and departed—embarking, arriving, parting, and reuniting, mirroring the myriad facets of life.
Yang Jie leaned against Wang Chongqiu's shoulder and dozed off once more, while Wang Chongqiu tilted his head back, half-asleep as well.
At moments like this, Chen Qi always felt grateful for his youthful body, capable of enduring hardship and staying up late. Had he still been the worn-out, middle-aged man from his past life, pulling an all-nighter would have felt like the death of him.
He pulled out his thermos, which held an amber liquid wafting a faint, sweet aroma, and whispered, "Here."
"What is it?"
"Honey water. There's only this little bit, so I'm not sharing with them."
"Oh, you. Always full of little schemes."
"Resources are scarce, you know. Drink it up quickly—this stuff doesn't keep well if left sitting too long."
Gong Xue took it and took a small sip. It had been warm when poured in, and it remained pleasantly warm now, tasting sweet and fragrant. Sugar never failed to lift one's spirits. After drinking half of it, she felt considerably better and said, "You drink the rest."
"You don't want any more?"
"Mhm. This thermos holds quite a lot, and I'm full."
Chen Qi took it back, deliberately pressing his lips to the exact spot on the rim where hers had rested, sipping loudly. "Who snuck extra sugar in here? I don't remember it being this sweet!"
Gong Xue glared at him, then glanced at Yang Jie and Wang Chongqiu, who were still sound asleep, and whispered, "About how many days will you stay?"
"Three days at most in Shanghai, then two days in Zhejiang before I head back. By the way, aren't you going to invite me to sit at your house?" he asked.
"Do you want to come?"
"If I hadn't come to Shanghai, that would be one thing. But since I'm here, I ought to pay a visit no matter what."
"..."
Gong Xue twisted the hem of her clothes, remaining silent for a long while before finally saying, "I haven't mentioned anything to my family yet. If you show up out of the blue, I'm afraid things might turn awkward. I think... I think it's best to have a transition period first."
"I understand what you mean."
"Mhm..."
Feeling somewhat guilty toward him, Gong Xue reached out beneath the table and took his hand.
* * *
They arrived in Shanghai first.
Chen Qi accompanied Yang Jie and her entourage as they went everywhere to audition actors.
No matter the era, resources always gravitated toward major cities. In these years, the arts and culture circles of Beijing and Shanghai were true hotbeds of hidden talent, home to numerous arts academies and an abundance of outstanding youths from the younger generation.
In just two short days, he laid eyes on four stunning beauties: Zhao Jing, Zhou Jie, Dong Zhizhi, and Li Jianqun.
Zhao Jing, twenty-three years old, was an actress with Shanghai Film Studio. She had trained in Peking opera and Henan opera, and her notable works would include *Romance of a Calligrapher* and *Red Dresses Are in Fashion on the Street*, though right now she was still a newcomer. Historically, she and Gong Xue were celebrated as golden flowers of Shanghai Film Studio, and she would continue acting in future generations, blessed with delicate, refined features and a gentle, graceful bearing.
Zhou Jie was nineteen, and Dong Zhizhi was twenty. Both belonged to the Shanghai Opera and Dance Drama Theatre and were among the premier beauties of the 1980s.
Zhou Jie had acted in *The Burning of the Imperial Palace*, *Reign Behind a Curtain*, and *Yang Guifei*, while also achieving remarkable success in dance, having served twice as lead dancer on the Spring Festival Gala before eventually moving to the United States to open a dance school. Her aura could effortlessly swing between classical elegance and modern chic, and her screen presence was superb.
Dong Zhizhi possessed purely classical beauty, having starred in the television series *Xi Shi*, though she retired relatively early.
As for Li Jianqun, her presence was entirely due to Chen Qi making up an excuse to suggest her, because she was currently studying in the Stage Design Department at the Shanghai Theatre Academy—a place where Yang Jie would never have thought to scout for talent.
When summoned over, she looked completely bewildered.
Yang Jie introduced herself first, and then Chen Qi leaned in, smiling. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Chen Qi."
"The screenwriter of *Romance on Mount Lu*?" Li Jianqun was quite surprised.
"You know of me?"
"I've read about you in magazines." Li Jianqun scrutinized him a few moments longer. He truly was so young.
Yang Jie began asking routine questions and learned that she was twenty-three this year, a native of Wuhan. She had studied dance as a child and only switched to fine arts after an injury. She was set to graduate next year and had no prior acting experience.
Yet Yang Jie found her poise exceptional—especially her eyes, which seemed to ripple with shimmering moisture, carrying a delicate, tender vulnerability.
To put it bluntly, she had a sorrowful look. The character Qin Xianglian left little room for creative liberties; the stereotype of her was that of a tragic woman, tearful and grieving. If cast into a different mold, audiences might find it hard to accept.
"Are you interested in acting?" Yang Jie finally asked. "I don't mean you're guaranteed the role, but your looks and demeanor are quite promising, so there might be an opportunity."
"Acting..."
Approaching graduation, Li Jianqun had only been worrying about which work unit she would be assigned to; she had never considered acting in a production. After pondering for a moment, she nodded. "If you're willing to give me this chance, I would love to participate."
"Very well. Leave your contact details, including your home address, so I can reach you."
After chatting a while longer, Li Jianqun took her leave. Chen Qi made a point of stepping forward to shake her hand, smiling. "Since you study art, I hope we'll have the chance to collaborate in the future."
"Thank you for your high regard."
Once she departed, Yang Jie asked curiously, "You seem to place a lot of stock in her?"
"There are plenty of beautiful women, but genuinely talented and creative ones are far too rare. Of course I value her!" Chen Qi chuckled.
Li Jianqun was decent as an actress, but as a costume designer, she was extraordinary. She had handled the costume design for *Yang Guifei*, *Tang Ming Huang*, *Wu Zetian*, *Kangxi Dynasty*, *Taiping Heavenly Kingdom*, and many others.
The first three in particular represented the absolute zenith of Tang dynasty aesthetic charm in domestic film and television!
Never again would Tang dynasty historical dramas reach such heights.
Chen Qi's collector's urge was flaring up again. He desperately wanted to pull her into his own team, which was why he had vigorously urged Yang Jie to cast her as Qin Xianglian. Only by playing Qin Xianglian would she come to the capital, and only when she came to the capital would he have the opportunity to sweet-talk her into joining him.
While visiting the Shanghai Theatre Academy, they unexpectedly came across another male actor named Wang Bozhao—the very man who would later play the White Dragon Horse in *Journey to the West*, and who would later make headlines after being beaten on set by Nicholas Tse and Dicky Cheung.
Yang Jie felt his handsome looks carried a touch of frivolous charm and romantic allure, making him a perfect fit for Chen Shimei.
Chen Qi could not agree more!
He had no desire to see Zhang Tielin play Chen Shimei. Chen Shimei was the male lead, after all; Zhang Tielin was far better suited to play a lecherous flunky under the lead...
Chapter 138