“It is called wuxia!”
“The films we make ought to be called wuxia films!”
*Rumble!*
The clatter of the train pulled Li Lianjie from his thoughts. Right now, he was sitting on a train bound for Beijing, holding a copy of the *China Youth Daily* from several days prior. Splashed across the page was a bold, resounding headline:
“The Dawn of the Wuxia Era—An Exclusive Interview with Chen Qi of *Tai Chi*!”
One character for martial, another for knight-errant. Taken separately, each was ordinary enough. Yet when combined, they exerted an inexplicable magnetism, as though woven into the very blood and marrow of the Chinese people alongside planting vegetables, listening to traditional tunes, and keeping one's navel covered while sleeping.
*The Shaolin Temple* had wrapped production, and Zhang Xinyan had gone straight back to Hong Kong.
From its launch in 1979 to wrapping in 1981, they had dragged things out for nearly three years. By the time it hit theaters, that would be next year's affair.
Xiong Xinxin had returned to Guangxi. Yu Hai and Sun Jiankui had headed back to Shandong. Yu Chenghui had left for Ningxia, and Ding Lan, who played the Shepherdess, had returned to Henan. Overnight, the cast and crew had scattered like smoke, leaving only himself...
“Why are you still staring at that paper? What's so interesting?”
Ji Chunhua strolled over with an enamel mug, plopping down beside him with easy nonchalance. “Wuxia it is! If Brother Qi calls it wuxia, then wuxia it is. We won't call them martial arts films anymore.”
Li Lianjie found it impossible to connect with him on that level. Folding up the newspaper, he said, “I say, Old Ji, you've been away from home for so long. Aren't you going back to see your family?”
“Nothing to see. As long as I wire money back on time, it's fine.”
“Then have you thought about what you're going to do next?”
“Stick with Brother Qi, of course. Didn't the paper say they're going to shoot *Tai Chi 2*?”
“They said the lead cast would stay the same. You died in the first one—how are you supposed to be in the second?”
Ji Chunhua hesitated, a hint of doubt creeping in, but quickly waved his hand. “Doesn't matter. Brother Qi told me to come find him in Beijing. He definitely won't let me starve.”
*Sigh. Fortune favors fools.*
Li Lianjie sighed inwardly, suddenly feeling a twinge of envy. If only he had been asked to leave the martial arts team like Ji Chunhua had. Unfortunately, there were no “if onlys.” Just thinking about what he would face upon returning was enough to give him a headache.
***
Beijing Film Studio, soundstage.
Today, the crew was filming the final few scenes of *Justice Bao* before heading out to location shoots.
“Cut! Let's take a break!”
At Yang Jie's call, Li Jianqun hastily wiped her eyes and gently rubbed them with her fingers, trying to soothe her bloodshot eyes. Then she found a chair, leaned back, and closed her eyes to rest.
She had just finished an emotional scene, weeping continuously take after take.
“Need some eyedrops? There are some in the crew's first-aid kit.”
A voice came from beside her—familiar, yet slightly unfamiliar. Her eyes stung too badly to open, so she simply said, “Yes, thank you. Could you hand them to me, please?”
A small bottle of eyedrops was pressed into her palm. She instilled a few drops, then kept her eyes shut for a moment until the stinging subsided. The person waited quietly by her side without uttering a word.
It was not until she opened her eyes and turned her head...
“I'm so sorry! I didn't realize it was you. I assumed you were one of the crew assistants.”
“It's fine, no trouble at all. Feeling any better?”
“Yes, much better.”
“Shooting crying scenes is really grueling. Take your time; once you pick up a few tricks, it gets easier...”
Li Jianqun responded politely, though puzzled inside. Chen Qi had clearly come looking for her, but they barely knew each other. What could he want?
Her heart gave a sudden leap. *Could he be looking to cast me in a film?*
“I heard you're heading out soon, so there's something I'd like to discuss with you.”
Chen Qi handed over a document containing design concepts for *Tai Chi 2*. “I'm preparing a new film. Since your specialty is stage and fine arts, I'd like to invite you to design the costumes for my movie. What do you think?”
“Design costumes?”
Li Jianqun blinked her pretty eyes. Having just cried and used eyedrops, her gaze was all the more clear and limpid. Her first reaction was confusion: “I don't have any experience with film. Why approach me?”
“I've started a company. If I use personnel from the Beijing Film Studio, it counts as a formal secondment, which involves a lot of red tape. Besides, the costumes for *Tai Chi 2* don't need to be overly elaborate, so I didn't want to go through the studio. I wanted to give you a shot.
“If you're willing, you can start working on the sketches while you're on location and hand them to me once you wrap. And of course, there's a role in *Tai Chi 2* that would suit you quite well, provided you don't mind a smaller part.”
That last offer set her heart racing.
What made Li Jianqun most anxious right now was having nowhere to go after finishing *Justice Bao*. Getting into *Tai Chi 2* would be wonderful. Still, she lacked confidence due to her lack of experience. After hesitating, she finally gritted her teeth.
“Since you have such confidence in me, I accept! I'll definitely give you designs you're satisfied with!”
“Great. All my requirements are in there; take a look when you have time. As for compensation, we'll follow the studio standard and pay you the salary of an assistant art director. Come over after today's shoot to sign the contract.”
“A... a contract?”
“I run a company, so naturally we need a contract to confirm our hiring agreement for *Tai Chi 2*.”
“I don't know much about that. Please excuse my ignorance.”
Li Jianqun lowered her head slightly, feeling a bit self-conscious. While she had made quite a name for herself at school and possessed solid professional credentials, standing in front of this man somehow made anyone feel like an unsophisticated country bumpkin.
***
“Brother Qi!”
“Xiao Ji? When did you get back?”
Having settled things with Li Jianqun, Chen Qi returned to find Ji Chunhua squatting outside the guesthouse. He looked even tanner and sturdier than before, still completely hairless without so much as eyebrows, clutching a massive duffel bag like an inmate fresh out of prison.
“Just got in! Came straight to find you!”
“*Tai Chi* made such a massive splash! Back on *The Shaolin Temple* set, we held a banquet specifically for you. Li Lianjie said it was to celebrate with you from afar.”
Ji Chunhua hurried over with keen anticipation, grinning from ear to ear with shining eyes, looking just like a child waiting to be handed candy.
Chen Qi saw right through his thoughts and chuckled. “All right, all right. Come with me!”
“Right away!”
Shouldering his large bag, Ji Chunhua followed him up to the small office in the main building. Inside were four desks, four chairs, and only the accountant present.
“President Chen!”
“Mm, carry on.”
Chen Qi gestured for Ji Chunhua to take a seat and got straight to the point. “This company of mine has just been established. Though small in scale, it's a legitimate, proper enterprise. Currently, there are only three people; you're the fourth.
“We haven't finalized the exact organizational structure yet, but for now, consider yourself a staff member in the acting department. Forty-eight yuan a month, plus filming allowances and bonuses...”
Hearing forty-eight yuan, the accountant glanced up but kept silent. Her job was merely to ensure that foreign exchange earnings were remitted to the state in full and that the books balanced; everything else was none of her business.
“As long as you give me movies to act in, I don't even need money!”
“One thing at a time. I won't shortchange you. For now, stay at the guesthouse; the company will cover the room fees.”
“Then what should I do on ordinary days?”
“Free time. Or you can follow me around and act as my bodyguard on the side.”
“Sure, sure! I love that kind of work!”
Watching Ji Chunhua act like an eager, goofy mastiff, Chen Qi shook his head and asked, “How's Li Lianjie? Did he head back to the martial arts team?”
“He went back. Didn't look too happy, though.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
“Didn't say much, but I could tell just by looking at him that his heart isn't in it anymore. Just like me, he wants to act in movies... I mean, leaving the martial arts team to act full-time. Brother Qi, why didn't you sign him?” Ji Chunhua asked.
Chen Qi smiled, not bothering to explain things to this thickheaded fellow. He walked to the window and looked out across the courtyard of the Beijing Film Studio.
“His situation is unique. The time isn't right yet!”
Chapter 189