Where Are the Contracts?

As dusk approached, the capital's first spring rain was falling outside. Wang Yang returned with Li Wenhua, exhausted in both body and mind. The moment they stepped past the main gate, Gong Xue came running over. "Director Wang!" "What are you... Oh, you've been waiting here all this time." "Director, why isn't Xiao Chen with you?" "His situation is a bit complicated. He has to stay there for the time being until the investigation clears things up... Don't worry, I'll definitely make sure he comes back in one piece!" His words only made things worse; Gong Xue's delicate face turned even paler upon hearing them. Wang Yang knew the two were close, but he was in no mood to say more right now. He waved his hand and took a few steps forward, then suddenly paused and turned around to ask, "Xiao Gong, did you bring anything back with you?" "Do you mean luggage?" "Not luggage. Some very particular items." Wang Yang didn't know how to describe it and kept his phrasing vague, but Gong Xue miraculously understood. After a moment's thought, she said, "Xiao Chen did leave some things in Mr. Fu Chi's care. Mr. Fu Chi will be coming to Beijing in a couple of days." "Fu Chi is coming?" Wang Yang was startled, then nodded thoughtfully. "Oh, that's good... Go on about your work. Everything will be fine." The two entered the studio grounds, and Li Wenhua asked in a low voice, "Xiao Chen won't be in real trouble, will he?" "That Fang Yurong made such an issue out of his political stance that the Ministry of Culture didn't dare overlook it. This has already gone beyond the jurisdiction of the film industry, so Xiao Chen had to stay behind to cooperate with the investigation. I'm going to reach out to some of my old comrades-in-arms to see if I can get him out. If anything happens to him, I won't be able to live with myself! "Never mind him—the two of us can barely protect ourselves right now. I'm sorry to have dragged you into this." "I've lived a mediocre life at my age. Getting to do a bit of revolution with you makes it all worthwhile!" ... Wang Yang said everything would be fine, but how could Gong Xue believe that when she hadn't even seen Chen Qi? Wracking her little brain for ideas, she got back on her bicycle and hurried to the China Youth Daily office. The sudden arrival of a big movie star caused another sensation, and staff members from all over the building poured out to catch a glimpse. "Ah! Gong Xue, what brings you here?" "Did someone invite you for an exclusive interview?" "Hello, hello everyone. I'm looking for reporter Yu Jiajia!" Before long, Yu Jiajia strolled out, her eyes gleaming. "Well now, I heard you went abroad! Did you come straight to see me the moment you got back? Miss me?" "Let's step outside to talk!" The two stepped outside and stood under the awning to keep out of the rain. Gong Xue gave a concise summary of what had happened. Catching raindrops in her palm, Yu Jiajia pondered, "All I can do on my end is publish news stories to stir up public opinion. But the problem is, we don't have any material to work with!" "Tai Chi was a massive hit in both Hong Kong and Berlin. You could write about that!" "Stirring up public opinion requires solid substance—ideally original overseas press clippings and photographs. I can't just spin stories out of thin air. It wouldn't be convincing." "But Xiao Chen didn't even come back today. Heaven knows what's happening to him!" "For now, all you can do is trust him. That kid is shrewd as can be—he never lets himself get the short end of the stick. Let's wait and see..." Gong Xue slowly crouched down, biting her lip. Her heart burned with anxiety, yet she was utterly powerless. ... In those days, the Ministry of State Security had not yet been established, but there were departments with similar functions. Xiao Mo belonged to one such department. Young, capable, alert, sharp-witted, and skilled in martial arts, he was held in high regard. The next day. He and a colleague arrived at Beijing Film Studio. Both looked completely ordinary, the sort of faces that blended seamlessly into a crowd. They went to see Wang Yang first, then headed over to the guesthouse and entered Room 302. "Whoa, that's a lot of books." "I hear he's a screenwriter, an intellectual." "I'll take this side, you take that side..." Their assignment was to search his living quarters, then make rounds to question the people around Chen Qi. Xiao Mo's impression of the room was fairly positive. Though cramped, it was neither dirty nor messy. The only notable thing was the sheer volume of books, stacked in piles even on the floor. He casually flipped through a few and noted, "These are all old books. Wow, this one is stamped from the Republic of China era..." "He did claim he liked collecting antiques. Looks like that was true." "Find anything?" "Nothing. Feels like this guy leads a very simple life." Xiao Mo picked up a copy of English 900. It was densely packed with study notes and phonetic transcriptions, showing clear signs of frequent use. He handed it to his colleague, who glanced at it and slipped it into an evidence bag. "Huh? Is this a screenplay?" He suddenly spotted a thick notebook with a bookmark tucked inside, marking an unfinished outline. "Kyoto Ball Heroes?" "'In the late Qing dynasty, the nation was weak and foreign powers flaunted their might, routinely seizing every chance to humiliate the Chinese people... On this day, the European Football Pirates and the Legation United Team held a football match in the capital, a novelty that drew crowds of Chinese commoners to watch...'" "Nothing of real value here. This kid seems pretty clean. Xiao Mo, did you find anything?" "Xiao Mo?" His colleague turned around and found the guy sitting on the bed, thoroughly engrossed in reading. He cursed, "Damn it! You're on a mission, not here to read books!" "No, no, come over here quick!" "What is it... Isn't it just a story? The kid's a screenwriter; writing stories is completely normal." "Look at the front!" Xiao Mo flipped back a few pages and pointed to a handwritten table of contents in the notebook: The Cotton Kasaya, Invincible Dual Kicks, Wudang, Great Shanghai 1937... "Holy mother of God!" His colleague's eyes went wide, and he cried, "Aren't these the stories from Story Session that we love to read? Did the kid copy them down?" "Are you fucking stupid? He wrote them!" Xiao Mo smacked his colleague and said, "Think about it! His name is Chen Qi—he's definitely Ah Qi!" "Oh man! Then who's Ah Guai?" "How should I know? We'll ask when we get back!" The atmosphere between the two suddenly took a bizarre turn. Instead of finding evidence of 'colluding with the enemy,' they had uncovered evidence of their idol. Circulation of Story Session in the capital had been growing month by month, and because their unit was mostly made up of martial artists, they loved reading it more than anyone. Of course, official duty was kept separate from personal feelings. If the kid really had turned traitor, the most they could do for him was ensure his corpse stayed in one piece. Xiao Mo, however, had already subconsciously concluded that he was clean. After all, the stories he wrote were full of righteous heroes aiding the weak, grand and honorable, slaying traitors, fighting Japanese invaders, and thrashing Western imperialists—brimming with deep love for the nation and its people... Afterward, the two continued their inquiries around Beijing Film Studio. They also stopped by the cooperative and the street neighborhood office to ask questions, holding off on visiting Chen Qi's home for the time being. Once the questioning began, word spread rapidly through the studio. Those who usually disliked Chen Qi were practically beaming with joy: "Did you hear? That kid got locked up!" "From what I heard, he's already behind bars. Committed a major crime." "They say he's going to be executed in the autumn!" Jiang Shan burst into worried tears. "Wahhh, is Brother Xiao Chen going to die?" "Nonsense! Xiao Chen is fine. Every single person they questioned had nothing but praise for him," Jiang Huaiyan comforted his daughter. ... While the investigation proceeded on this end, the Ministry of Culture was also deliberating over what disciplinary action to take against Beijing Film Studio. Over at China Film, meanwhile, they cared about only one question: Where are the contracts? "You still haven't found the contracts?!" Song Linming was growing anxious. It was said that Tai Chi had earned foreign exchange, but how much it had actually brought in was still anyone's guess. Furthermore, such claims required proof, and the contracts were that proof. He wanted to seize the business, but how could he do that without the contracts? The film world leaked like a sieve. Within a couple of days, more and more people caught wind of the matter, including several film studio directors attending meetings in Beijing. "Old Wang has stumbled! He's done for this time!" "Dealing with China Film takes a gradual tug-of-war, winning concessions inch by inch. Old Wang was far too aggressive this time." "Still, when all's said and done, just how much foreign exchange did they earn???"