Hangzhou.
A guesthouse on the shores of West Lake.
Seventy-one-year-old Yuan Wenshu rose early. After taking a walk along the lake, he returned for breakfast. Around nine o'clock, carrying his customary enamel mug, he headed up to the meeting room.
"Elder Yuan!"
"Elder Yuan!"
More than twenty people were already seated inside. They greeted him in unison. Yuan Wenshu waved his hand and took the head seat.
He was a leading domestic expert on dramatic and cinematic theory, a former director of the Shanghai Film Studio, the executive vice-chairman of the China Film Association, and a figure of immense prestige. He was also serving as the director of the jury for the inaugural Golden Rooster Awards.
These twenty-odd people were all committee members who had spent ten days sequestered here specifically to deliberate over the prizes.
People in this era loved traveling out of town for conferences and events. Ordinary travel was difficult, so using an official pretext allowed them to get away on fully reimbursed expenses and squeeze in some sightseeing along the way.
"Today is the final day of our conference, and we must reach a conclusion," Yuan Wenshu announced. "Two awards remain undecided. Let us address the first: Best Feature Film. *Legend of Tianyun Mountain* and *Evening Rain* have been locked in contention. Today, we will conduct another round of voting, and regardless of the tally, we must settle on an outcome."
He tapped on the table. "All right, enough idle talk. Let us begin voting!"
The committee members were all venerable, respected veteran artists. At first, they had weighed whether to include Hong Kong and Taiwan in consideration, but ultimately decided it presented too many practical difficulties and shelved the idea until conditions ripened.
After ten days together, everyone was well-practiced, writing their choices down on slips of paper.
Yuan Wenshu held a vote of his own as well. Once the slips were collected and tallied, he read out: "Thirteen votes for *Legend of Tianyun Mountain*, twelve votes for *Evening Rain*. It appears *Legend of Tianyun Mountain* has won."
"Elder Yuan, I still feel it would be too great a pity," one veteran artist spoke up. "*Evening Rain* is an exceptional film as well. If it were trailing by four or five votes, fair enough, but right now it's only a single vote behind. That proves the two works are evenly matched. Shouldn't we hold another round?"
"I say we shouldn't waste time! A win is a win!"
"We can't just leave a pearl buried in the sea! The Golden Rooster Awards would be laughed at for having no discerning eye!"
An argument broke out below again.
After a period of discussion, Yuan Wenshu brought his hand down on the table. "Then let us name both films joint winners and submit them together!"
"Splendid, splendid!"
"I support that. It's the safest approach."
And so, in the Year of Xinyou, this newly debuted Golden Rooster popped out a double-yolked egg with a *plop*. It would continue doing so for decades to come, popping out *plop-plop-plop* until people grew too weary even to sneer at it.
Was it merely handing out pork to keep everyone happy? Not quite. For instance, the Best Actor category was left vacant; they would rather leave it empty than settle for mediocrity.
Was it strictly principled? Not really, either. The committee members likely started with good intentions, reluctant to let worthy works go unrecognized. Yet they never considered how a prestigious award built its authority in the first place.
To put it bluntly, the judging mechanism was amateurish.
The Oscars were far more polished. Everyone knew winning an Oscar took heavy lobbying and PR, but on the surface, they maintained a glossy veneer of impartiality and fairness. With the backroom dealings tucked neatly out of sight, it was remarkably convincing—though with its recent plunge into heavy-handed political correctness, the Oscars had ruined themselves as well.
"Next, let us address the second award: Best Actress," Yuan Wenshu said. "The debate among three comrades—Gong Xue in *Romance on Mount Lu*, Zhang Yu in *Evening Rain*, and Wang Fuli in *Legend of Tianyun Mountain*—remains substantial. While Zhang Yu and Wang Fuli are the female leads, both of their films are ensemble pieces where the supporting characters shine brilliantly one after another, unintentionally diluting the prominence of the leads. Their roles do not carry absolute, indispensable weight. *Romance on Mount Lu*, by contrast, is driven almost entirely by its two leads. Gong Xue carries substantial screen time, holds an irreplaceable role, and delivered a breakthrough performance. However, there is the matter of..."
Yuan Wenshu paused. Everyone understood. *Romance on Mount Lu* had premiered the previous summer, yet it was still playing in many smaller cities and townships, and hardline traditionalists continued to criticize it.
It was always the same tired rhetoric—decadent bourgeois lifestyles, romantic entanglement, corrupting the youth, and on and on.
After a moment's hesitation, Yuan Wenshu said, "Let us put it to a vote. The ballots will decide."
"Agreed, let's vote!"
"That's the best way!"
Before long, the tallies were compiled and handed to Yuan Wenshu. He announced the results, concluding, "All categories for the Golden Rooster Awards are now settled. I will submit them to the Ministry of Culture for review and approval. In the meantime, letters may be sent out to the respective units, instructing everyone to arrive in Hangzhou no later than the twenty-third. Be sure to outline the itinerary so no one is caught unprepared."
"Meeting adjourned!"
Simultaneously, the results of *Popular Cinema*'s Hundred Flowers Awards were finalized, likewise requiring Ministry of Culture approval before the trophies could be presented.
***
The neighborhood surrounding Beijing Film Studio was called Beitaipingzhuang.
In later years, it would become Middle North Third Ring Road, but right now there was no Third Ring, and even the Second Ring was incomplete. Going from Beijing Film Studio into the urban center was referred to as "going into town." Traveling in from Changping, Miyun, or Tongzhou was an even bigger deal—that was called "taking a trip to Beijing."
Outside the studio gate sat a bus stop, fronted by a single cracked strip of asphalt flanked on both sides by dirt roads. In the vicinity were vegetable plots, the China Education Publishing House, military family residential compounds, a military cadres' sanatorium, and the Beitaipingzhuang Store.
The Beitaipingzhuang Store was the area's largest shopping hub.
It stood only one story high, spanning five to six hundred square meters. In late autumn every year, it sold Chinese cabbage outside, piling the heads up like miniature mountains while neighborhood residents lined up from dawn to dusk for fear of missing out.
Having lived here for more than half a year, Gong Xue had grown increasingly accustomed to the local rhythm.
At the moment, she emerged from the Beitaipingzhuang Store carrying a package of pastries, pedaling her bicycle back toward the studio. She loved sweet treats, with pastries and candies at the top of her list. When she rode past the gate, she noticed the small chalkboard once again bore a message: *Gong Xue has a large bundle of mail!*
"Uncle, I'm here for my letters!"
"Take 'em, take 'em! A bundle a day—I've turned into your personal mailman!"
"Oh, I know you've had your hands full. Here, try a pastry..."
Coaxing the old gatekeeper with a radiant smile, she fastened the bundle of mail onto her back rack and pedaled back to the tongzilou.
A flood of love letters addressed to Chen Shaomei poured into the Beijing Film Studio, mingled occasionally with confessions meant for Zhou Yun. Both *Romance on Mount Lu* and *Tai Chi* were in circulation, after all; the former had been screening for a year, while the latter could easily run for three.
As the saying went, fame nurtures the spirit.
Nowhere was this more visible than among actors. Whether someone was currently hot, washed up, yet to break through, or staging a comeback, the difference in mental posture was plain to see.
Gong Xue was living proof. Lately, she brimmed with energy and buoyant spirits, and even her skin looked markedly better. Stepping into her room, she poured a cup of tea, unwrapped her package, opened the pastry box, and flopped down onto the sofa, embodying the very picture of a modern homebody.
"Why would someone challenge me to a martial arts duel? Have they lost their mind?"
"'Shaomei, your eyes are like the stars in the night sky. I have fallen deeply in love with you. You are like a lump of coal in winter, burning within my chest...' What dreadful writing. Not touching in the slightest. Besides, I already have Xiao Chen..."
She muttered running critiques as she read through them, a habit clearly picked up from a certain someone.
After flipping through a few at random, she stacked them in the corner of the room, where they had already piled up into a small hill that could barely hold any more. Then she began sorting through the larger envelopes. Routine letters came in small envelopes, while oversized ones inevitably signaled official correspondence.
"Oh?"
"Golden Rooster and Hundred Flowers Awards Organizing Committee?"
Nibbling on a pastry, Gong Xue hastily tore it open. Inside was a formal invitation to attend the ceremony, highlighting two specific items: first, she had been chosen as an actor representative to deliver a speech, requiring her to prepare remarks in advance; second, following the ceremony, there would be a variety performance in which everyone was expected to participate, and she needed to prepare an act.
"Deliver a speech..."
Gong Xue clutched the invitation, her heart thumping against her ribs. Thoughts raced through her mind before she firmly reined them in. *No, no, don't jump to conclusions. The greater the expectation, the greater the disappointment.*
*Knock, knock, knock... knock, knock... knock!*
A distinctive rhythm tapped against the door. She hurried over and pulled it open. Chen Qi slipped inside, looking at her in surprise. "What have you been up to? Why is your face so flushed?"
"Did you get an invitation letter?"
"I did. Does getting an invitation get you this excited?"
"No, no! They want me to give a speech. Do you think... do you think there's a chance I might win an award?"
Gong Xue reached up and wrapped both arms around his neck. Taking advantage of the motion, Chen Qi scooped her up, carried her to the sofa, and sat down with her, chuckling. "Nothing is certain yet. Keep a low profile and build up good karma. The greater the expectation, the greater the disappointment!"
"Mhm, that's what I was thinking too. But if I really... Fine, I won't say it!"
She clapped a hand over her own mouth.
Chen Qi found her thoroughly endearing. Ever since she had been with him, the cautious, somber, walking-on-eggshells demeanor from before had faded. She was far more confident and open now—all to his credit, naturally.
Gong Xue picked up a piece of pastry and offered it to him. "I went to the store earlier and wanted to buy some dried baby shrimp, but I didn't have the coupons. I spent all my meat coupons long ago feeding you."
"Once the Yuen Brothers wire over the money, I'll have plenty of overseas remittance certificates again. I'll buy you meat every single day."
"You want to feed me meat?" Gong Xue smiled.
"Yeah, and it's even better if you add the word 'stick' to it."
"What?"
She looked puzzled.
"Never mind, you'll understand later..."
Chen Qi glanced over the letter and pondered for a moment. "The awards are on the twenty-third, which leaves plenty of time. I'm thinking of heading down early for a few days."
"Why?"
"I need a change of scenery to write. Cooped up in the guesthouse all day, the room smells stale. Besides, I want to see West Lake. Do you want to come with me?"
"I can't. If I leave, the studio has to issue an introductory letter. If everyone sees the two of us traveling alone together, what would that look like? I'd better travel with Director Wang, Old Tang, and the rest."
"Fair enough. I'll bring Xiao Ji along, then." Chen Qi kissed her and smiled. "If anyone comes looking for me during this time, just tell them I went to Hangzhou."
Chapter 190