In Berlin

"Director Hui, it's a pleasure to meet you!" "Chen, er..." "Just call me Mr. Chen!" On the plane to Berlin, Chen Qi had unexpectedly run into Ann Hui and several other young directors. They had been invited to attend a sidebar section called the Asian Cinema Symposium, so their itineraries coincided. Ann Hui was in her thirties and still wore her hair long, lacking the hardened, formidable air she would develop in later years. She was also one of the Hong Kong New Wave directors, having already helmed her debut feature, *The Secret*, starring Angie Chiu and Sylvia Chang. The woman was remarkably fierce and daring: for an autopsy scene in *The Secret*, she had gone in person to observe real autopsies conducted by Hong Kong police coroners, and had even been eager to try her own hand at it. She required no introduction, boasting countless acclaimed masterpieces in the years to come. "Thank you for being so kind before the media, Mr. Chen—for praising me instead of tearing me down," Ann Hui remarked, proving quite conversational. "Ah, well, that's rather awkward. The premise of me saying those things was that I assumed we'd never cross paths. Who would have guessed it'd be such a coincidence? Luckily, I didn't say anything bad about you back then." "Haha! But your assessment was spot-on. I really do favor realist themes. I'm currently preparing a film set against the backdrop of Vietnam—in fact, it's funded by your Ms. Xia Meng." "Aren't you afraid of getting blacklisted?" "I'm an art-house director; why should I care about the commercial market? If there's a film to shoot, I shoot it!" Ann Hui replied nonchalantly. That film was *Boat People*. Originally, the lead role had been offered to Chow Yun-fat, but he backed out for fear of being blacklisted. They had turned to Andy Lau instead. Lau was a newcomer, after all, and having a role mattered more than anything. The film also featured George Lam. The entire movie would be filmed on location in Hainan and Zhanjiang, only to be exposed midway through production by the pesky Hong Kong press. Everyone involved, including Andy Lau and George Lam, ended up having to write letters of self-criticism. Ann Hui, however, couldn't have cared less and flatly refused to write one. That was why Chen Qi made a deliberate effort to get on her good side. In the future... ah, well, not *that* way with Director Hui, but she could certainly be pulled over to his side down the road. *** After a grueling flight of over a dozen hours, the group finally touched down in West Berlin. Fu Chi had brought along his own contingent as well, intending to sell *Wrong Turn*. In 1979, the establishment of diplomatic relations between China and the United States brought with it a series of signed agreements, including provisions for cultural exchange in film. America's stance directly swayed the attitude of the entire Western bloc. Consequently, during this period, China inked similar pacts with numerous Western European nations, sparking frequent cinematic exchanges. As an aside: people often claimed China was closed off back then. Please, that wasn't self-imposed isolation—we were being blockaded by the Western world! One really ought to keep isolation and an embargo distinct. Later, when Sino-Soviet relations deteriorated, the United States saw an opening, believing it could draw China in to counter the Soviet Union. China likewise needed to adjust its broad strategic direction. That was what gave birth to ping-pong diplomacy—a little ball driving the great globe—leading to Nixon's visit to China, and culminating in formal diplomatic recognition... A morning in West Berlin. As soon as the delegation landed, they were met by a tall, imposing foreigner who warmly pulled Fang Yurong into an embrace, eliciting immediate frowns from Gong Xue and Fu Jingong. Fang Yurong thought nothing of it. Cadres working in foreign affairs were accustomed to open manners, though their department was also notorious for producing defectors. "This is the director of our competition entry, *Return of the Swallows*... Director Fu, this is the director of the Berlin International Film Festival, Moritz de Hadeln!" The festival director had come to greet them in person? Fu Jingong was taken aback and hurriedly shook hands, offering greetings in halting, half-baked English. "And these are the key creatives behind our exhibition entry!" "Welcome to Berlin!" Hadeln shook hands with Chen Qi and the others in turn, his demeanor exceptionally welcoming. Smiling, he said, "I have arranged everything for you. Please head to your hotel to rest!" Once the group settled into the car, Li Wenhua couldn't resist asking, "Xiao Yu, is he covering all our room and board here?" "That's right! Originally, we were supposed to pay our own way, but to show how much he values our delegation, the organizers covered the expense." "Oh, this foreigner is quite generous!" "Indeed, look how warm he is toward us!" "I wonder if we'll be able to stomach German food, though?" The corners of Fang Yurong's mouth curled slightly. Ever since arriving in Berlin, she had puffed up like a peacock fanning its feathers, radiating sudden pride—though no one could tell what she was so proud of. It was as if she had stepped onto her home turf. Naturally, she couldn't reveal the real reason: having alienated the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe, the Berlin Film Festival was desperate for a fresh influx of talent, and it had set its sights on Chinese cinema. That was the sole reason behind Hadeln's enthusiastic reception. On the drive to the hotel. Several members of the party peered eagerly out the windows. Chen Qi looked out as well. In his previous life, he had visited Berlin, but never *West Berlin*. The streets were packed with cars and flanked by diverse architecture. While some of the large department stores and smaller shops had yet to open, their display windows were already packed with dazzling goods, and long-nosed Westerners bustled about everywhere... Berlin in February was freezing, and the locals wore vibrant, heavy winter coats. Gong Xue paid special attention to their attire. Comparing it with the clothes Chen Qi had bought her in Hong Kong, she felt hers held up quite well, which put her heart at ease. It was simply unavoidable: whenever mainlanders traveled abroad in this era, they saw paradise at every turn and felt an overwhelming sense of inferiority. That was why so many who moved to the United States during the eighties and nineties ultimately became the vanguard of cynical public intellectuals. Upon reaching the hotel, Gong Xue was paired with Fang Yurong, Li Wenhua roomed with Fu Jingong, Chen Qi stayed with Li Lianjie, and Fu Chi's group made their own arrangements. Inside their room, Li Lianjie set about unpacking their luggage while Chen Qi looked over the festival schedule: opening on the 13th and closing on the 24th, with eighteen films competing for the Golden Bear. He hadn't heard of a single one of the directors, nor did he recognize any of the jury members. *Still a bit too early. If this were James Cameron, Quentin Tarantino, Tom Cruise, or Arnold Schwarzenegger, I'd know them instantly.* *Or Sophie Marceau, Isabelle Adjani, Monica Bellucci, Jennifer Connelly, Winona Ryder, Brooke Shields... Sigh, I wonder when my tiger penis wine will ever come in handy?* "Brother Qi!" Li Lianjie was thoroughly docile around him now. Having witnessed firsthand how Chen Qi had steered everyone in Hong Kong, especially how ruthlessly he had shut down the local tabloids, Li Lianjie found that this sheer competence far outweighed his earlier awkwardness and pride. He now addressed him as Brother Qi without hesitation. "Are we attending the opening ceremony tomorrow?" "We are, but it doesn't really concern us. We're just here for the exhibition screening." "To be honest, I've always found it strange. It's like you were aiming to go abroad right from the start. Who ever heard of premiering in Hong Kong before opening in the mainland? And as if Hong Kong wasn't enough, you ran all the way to Germany. What are you really after?" *For the rise of our Chinese nation!* *Pah!* Chen Qi scoffed at himself inwardly. Even he didn't buy such a grandiose excuse—though it wasn't entirely absent either. Human motives were complicated. He wanted to make money, chase fame and fortune, climb the social ladder, and pursue glamorous actresses... None of that precluded his desire to bring in some foreign currency for the country. "Come here, sit down." Chen Qi beckoned Li Lianjie over and said, "Some things are complicated. You wouldn't understand even if I explained them now. Just do as I tell you. In short, this is an endeavor of tremendous significance. "Get some good rest today. Oh, and remember: not a single word of this to Fang Yurong. Don't breathe a whisper. We're here strictly for the screening, and nothing else!" "Oh, understood!" Li Lianjie nodded, though his mouth twitched at all the secrecy. The Berlin Film Festival ran a European Film Market. Had the *Tai Chi* team wanted a booth, they would have had to register with the festival beforehand, which would have blown their cover. Fu Chi had stepped in to solve the problem: using Great Wall's name, he had applied for two booths—one for *Wrong Turn* and one for *Tai Chi*. Fang Yurong remained completely in the dark about all of this. Furthermore, with *Return of the Swallows* tying up her attention, all her focus remained glued to the competition entry. In her mind, *Tai Chi* was merely here for a single screening before packing up. She never dreamed in her wildest imagination that someone would dare go behind China Film's back to pull off such an outrageous stunt.