Beijing Film Studio

*Creak!* Just as the afternoon sun began to dip in the west, Chen Qi pushed open the courtyard gate and wheeled his bicycle out with a series of clatters. Perhaps afraid he would starve to death, Yu Xiuli had packed not only a huge bag of clothes for him, but also a massive bag of miscellaneous food. His parents had begged favors all over to exchange for plenty of ration coupons, and on top of that, they had slipped thirty yuan into his pocket. It wasn't quitting time yet, so Menkuang Hutong was unusually quiet. Only an elderly man stood watching from not far off. Chen Qi glanced back. He had lived here for half a month. While he didn't have exceptionally deep feelings for the place, there was at least a sliver of attachment. A visceral pang of melancholy instinctively rose within him, and he sighed inwardly: *Guess I’ve cleared the beginner village. Time to switch maps!* "Off I go!" Lingering no longer, he hopped on his bicycle and pedaled away. By the time he rode out of Dashilar, his mood had already brightened, and he even began humming an educational children's tune: *"Big Head Son, Small Head Dad, a pair of good friends, a happy father and son..."* Speaking of which, when he was a kid, he had always misheard the mother's name as "Grievance Mom," only to learn later on that she was "Apron Mom." That was what you got for not having subtitles. Their neighbor was named Lao Wang. Ten kilometers was no short trip; it took quite a bit of pedaling. In those days, stepping outside Beijing’s Second Ring Road meant entering the countryside. But Haidian was different. With its dense cluster of universities, people bustled to and fro, and the buildings were quite respectable. "Teacher Liang!" When he reached the gates of the Beijing Film Studio, Liang Xiaosheng was already waiting. Liang hurriedly called out, "Careful, careful! Why did you bring so much stuff?" "My mom worries too much." "Honestly, we have everything here. Hop off first, and I'll give you a quick tour." Chen Qi dismounted and wheeled the bike inside. He cast a sideways glance at the old man in the gatehouse, but the fellow didn't recognize him as the guy who had handed him half a pack of Daqianmen cigarettes, only staring back with a goofy grin. The Beijing Film Studio covered quite a large area. The first things to catch the eye were three buildings. Right in the center stood the three-and-a-half-story Soviet-style main building in red and white. The Literary Department and the editorial office of *Film Creation* were on the third floor. There were also two auxiliary buildings: the Sound Recording and Editing Building, and the Film Processing Building. "Behind the main building are the soundstages, and the logistics facilities are all over there. First, let me take you to the guesthouse." Liang Xiaosheng led the way. Chen Qi had visited the Beijing Film Studio in his past life. Many of the structures hadn't been built yet—like the Ming and Qing Dynasties Street, which had been erected in 1981 for filming *Rickshaw Boy* and later expanded into a full street. There were also the Rong and Ning Mansions, built in 1986 for the film adaptation of *Dream of the Red Chamber*. The television version had been filming at the same time, with Chen Xiaoxu and Zhang Li constantly keeping each other company... And then there was a row of single-story brick houses near the iron railing that hadn't been constructed yet either. In 1997, Feng Xiaogang had stayed there temporarily and made *The Dream Factory*. "Over there are the tube-shaped dormitory buildings, and that's the bathhouse and the main cafeteria. North of the soundstages is the guesthouse." Liang Xiaosheng brought him before a seven-story building and smiled. "From the start of pre-production, everyone on the crew—cinematography, art design, wardrobe, props, and so forth—stays here. "They're eight to a room. Guess who gets a private room?" "The director?" "The director is one. Who else?" "The lead actors?" "Regular actors share an eight-person room too, and well-known actors get a double room. Only the director and the screenwriter get private rooms! That's the tradition across every film studio in the entire country!" Liang Xiaosheng suddenly felt a surge of pride, even though he wasn't a screenwriter himself. He declared, "In our arts and cultural circles, there's a saying: the director is the god of a movie, and the screenwriter is second only to god!" *Ohhh...* Chen Qi put on a look of overwhelmed modesty. In the film and television industry of later years, the ultimate king of kings was the financial backer, followed by the backer's boyfriend, girlfriend, adopted son, adopted daughter, or gender-nonconforming companion. Having long grown accustomed to being hammered by the grind, he felt completely unruffled. Just as the two stepped into the guesthouse, a young girl came trotting down the stairs and greeted them of her own accord: "Teacher Liang!" Chen Qi took a look. She was petite and skinny, with eyes that naturally drooped at the outer corners, giving her a slightly glum look. Her nose was fairly large. She wasn't particularly pretty, but her features were properly proportioned—and she looked rather familiar. "Where are you off to?" "My meeting finished, so I'm heading home. Who's this?" The girl's voice was slightly shrill. "His name is Chen Qi. He's here to revise a script..." Liang Xiaosheng gave an enthusiastic introduction and chuckled. "This is the youngest actor in our studio. She's only eighteen—her name is Cai Ming!" *Pfft!* Chen Qi nearly lost control of his expression. No damn wonder she looked so familiar—it was Cai Ming! Cai Ming the sketch comedian! Seeing an eighteen-year-old Cai Ming standing right in front of him felt surreal no matter how he looked at it. Cai Ming herself didn't sense anything amiss and took the initiative to hold out her hand. "Hello! You're so young, yet you're already doing script revisions—that's amazing! But I have to run. Let's chat another day." She skipped merrily on her way. "Doesn't she live in the dorms?" "She's a Beijing local. Her father is a university professor, and her mother is a chief physician—why would she stay in the dorms? The dorms are reserved for bachelors. I have a small single room myself, for instance," Liang Xiaosheng said with a hint of envy. Chen Qi pressed on, "Has she acted in any films?" "Three of them. And she just landed a role in another, which makes four." "Oh. She's pretty cute." Having said that, he scratched his head. Other guys ran into movie stars like Zhu Lin, He Qing, and Chen Hong, or if they were in Hong Kong circles, Brigitte Lin, Angie Chiu, and Rosamund Kwan. Why in the world had he bumped into Cai Ming? It wasn't like he was Guo Da! The assigned room was Room 302. It was about ten square meters, furnished with a single bed, a desk and chair, and a wardrobe. A thermos and a teacup sat on the desk. On the wall hung an *East Is Red* mirror, beneath which stood an iron stand holding an enamel washbasin. It was the kind of enamel basin found in every household, decorated with a large carp or a peony pattern. There was one shared restroom on each floor, just like in a school dormitory, with old-fashioned flush systems: the urinal was a single long trough with a pipe dripping water from above, and the latrine was another trough divided by wooden partitions. Taking a dump felt like sitting in a row to share fruit. Naturally, there was no private bathroom, but Chen Qi was already very content. What right did anyone have to be picky about getting a private room in this era? If he needed to get up at night, the restroom was right outside the door, saving him the hassle of emptying a chamber pot. Chen Qi opened his large bag and began unpacking his clothes. Liang Xiaosheng pitched in to help. Seeing that he hadn't brought a single book, he smiled and remarked, "I thought you'd bring some books to read and share your thoughts with me." "The books at home are just too battered—I've flipped through them countless times. I plan to buy some new ones. Actually, more than reading, I prefer watching movies. I know every single one like the back of my hand." "That impressive?" "Of course. Name any movie you like, Teacher Liang, and I can tell you who starred in it!" Chen Qi smiled. "Hmm..." Liang Xiaosheng clearly didn't believe him. "Do you know the film *Long Live the Missus* from the forties?" "I do!" "Who played the leads?" "The guy was Xiao Shuai, and the girl was Xiao Mei!" "..." A piece of internet cultural garbage from decades in the future struck this intellectual without warning. Liang Xiaosheng's brain went blank for two full seconds, completely unable to process the signal. After a pause, he tried again: "And the leads of *This Land of Ours*, that Cuban film?" "The guy was Da Zhuang, and the girl was still Xiao Mei." *Get the hell out of here!* Liang Xiaosheng felt like cursing him out. Giving up on the conversation, he switched topics: "As per standard practice, we will cover your room and board. Aside from the three daily meals, though, if you want any snacks, you'll have to handle that yourself. Your living allowance will be two yuan a day until your assignment is completed." "Teacher Liang, can I ask roughly how much my script fee will be?" "That's still under consideration. After all, the draft hasn't been finalized yet! Tomorrow morning, you can head straight to the cafeteria. Once you've eaten, come to the Literary Department in the main building for a meeting." After getting everything settled, Liang Xiaosheng pondered for a moment and added, "Right, there's already a film crew staying on the third floor. The director lives right next door to you. He's a veteran of our studio and likes quiet, so please be mindful." "Which veteran?" "Director Chen Huaikai." *Whoa!* Chen Qi's eyes lit up. The great director Chen Kaige's father!