He Qing

"Honk honk!" A loud blare of a horn scattered pedestrians as a blue-and-white bus, locally manufactured in Hangzhou, pulled slowly up to the stop. The doors swung open, and He Qing hopped down lightly. Raising her floral umbrella, she made her way toward a guesthouse belonging to the provincial cultural department. She was seventeen this year, around 165 centimeters tall, with delicate facial features. However, her face was still round and chubby with excessive baby fat—not at all resembling the reigning beauty of period dramas she would later become, but looking more like the girl next door. "Excuse me, comrade, I'm here to see General Manager Chen in Room 331. I was here a few days ago." "He's not in. I saw him head out this morning." "When will he be back?" "How should I know? If you want to wait, wait outside by the entrance. Don't loiter in the lobby." He Qing walked back outside in dejection, holding an oiled-paper parcel. With no other option, she settled down to wait. Last year, when Chen Qi and Yang Jie went south to scout talent, she had met Chen Qi once. Nothing much had come of it then, and she had assumed her chance was gone. Who could have guessed that the celebrated screenwriter Chen would return, now transformed into "General Manager Chen," saying he had a small role he wanted her to play? Her hometown was Quzhou, and she was currently studying her craft with the Zhejiang Kunqu Opera Troupe. Of course she had agreed—it was a movie, and *Tai Chi 2* at that! As for the role, she had been told it was something like a Holy Maiden or fairy maiden from the Red Lantern sect. Another young girl had also been chosen from a Yue opera troupe named Tao Huimin, but she was based in Rui'an, Wenzhou, and traveling over was quite a hassle, so the two hadn't met yet. "..." Holding her umbrella, He Qing squatted by the entrance. As she waited, she watched the rain wash over an ant nest. *** Early summer. The lotuses had not yet bloomed. As far as the eye could see stretched an endless sea of emerald lotus pads across West Lake, dressed in light and heavy makeup alike. Threads of rain wound through the aura of an older era, moistening this classic Jiangnan landscape painting. At the far edge of this picture stood a young girl in a floral-print skirt, umbrella aloft, daydreaming by the water's edge. Wondering about who knew what, she suddenly stamped her foot, turned away as if in a pout, and hurried off. The fleeting glimpse of her graceful figure breathed sudden life into the entire scenery. Tourism in the 1980s was at its most rustic: run-down, authentic, and rarely constrained by rules. Up on Feilai Peak by Lingyin Temple, visitors climbed all over the carved stone Buddhas without anyone minding—just like taking a swim in Dragon Pool at Mount Lu. Yet most ordinary folk had barely resolved their basic food and clothing needs. Outside of a select few, who had the leisure or mood to go sight-seeing? "Ah, ah, ah... Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah... West Lake's fair scenery in March, spring rain like wine, willows like smoke..." Standing atop Broken Bridge, Chen Qi belted out the tune at the top of his raspy lungs, entirely ignoring the poetic atmosphere and simply singing to his heart's content. Then he let out a long sigh. "Throughout history, how many beautiful legends and poignant love stories have unfolded by West Lake?" He turned his head, caught sight of Ji Chunhua's unsightly mug, and promptly looked away as though he had seen nothing at all. "Xiao Ji, why does it have to be you standing beside me right now? I can't express any of my soulful sentiments." "Heh heh, I don't think it's very fitting for me to be standing here either." "If you know it's not fitting, why are you tailing me so closely? Don't come within three meters of me!" Ji Chunhua obediently took several steps back, a goofy grin still plastered on his face. "Brother Qi, what was that song you were singing just now? It sounded great!" "An insert song for a television drama that's still brewing in my belly. Have you heard the story of Xu Xian and the White Snake?" "I'm from Zhejiang, of course I've heard it... Brother Qi, are you going to write *Legend of the White Snake*?" Ji Chunhua asked excitedly. "Eventually. All right, let's head back!" *New Legend of Madame White Snake* had been filmed in 1992, by which point Angie Chiu was already thirty-nine. Though still gorgeous on screen, she was undeniably mature and lacking a certain youthful coyness. Playing the White Maiden worked well enough, but playing Hu Meiniang felt like an older woman pretending to be a young girl. In 1987, Taiwan would permit veteran soldiers to return to the mainland to visit relatives, easing cross-strait relations and sparking a steady rise in film and television exchanges between the mainland and Hong Kong. It would be ideal to produce *New Legend of Madame White Snake* a few years earlier, producing it himself to add another brilliant credit to his résumé. Naturally, he couldn't share any of this with Ji Chunhua. Chen Qi shook his head with a sigh and sauntered back toward the guesthouse. Before reaching the gate, he spotted a small floral umbrella twirling gently in place. The owner of the umbrella looked up, her eyes curving into delicate crescents as she smiled. In the crisp, sweet voice typical of a Jiangnan woman, she called out, "General Manager Chen! Brother Chunhua!" "Xiao He, why are you here again? Did you come to scrounge a meal?" Ji Chunhua's eyes lit up, and he trotted over eagerly, looking utterly smitten. "Is eating all you think I care about? My parents came to visit me yesterday and brought some treats, so I thought I'd bring some over for you to taste." He Qing lifted the oiled-paper parcel in her hand and smiled. "Here, specialties from my hometown of Quzhou: sesame cakes and duck feet." "Oh, thank you so much! Thank you! It's raining out here too, so if you're not in a hurry..." Ji Chunhua came from a poor family and spent his days in the martial arts troupe, rarely seeing pretty girls, so his reaction was only natural. But he didn't dare make the call himself and glanced toward his boss. Chen Qi didn't mind. "Since you're already here, eat with us." "Yay, thank you, General Manager Chen!" He Qing beamed. She hadn't specifically come to mooch food, but having a meal was certainly welcome; the dining standard at this guesthouse was very high. *** In those days, not just anyone could stay at an official guesthouse. Generally, travelers lodged within guesthouses belonging to their own government system. Chen Qi belonged to the cultural sector, so he stayed at a cultural guesthouse. In terms of administrative rank, he was technically a deputy-department-level cadre, entitled to generous accommodations. Conditions in traditional opera troupes were rather meager, and He Qing rarely had good food to eat. Coming here allowed her to satisfy her cravings, polishing off piece after piece of meat. Ji Chunhua hovered around her attentively, waiting on her hand and foot. Chen Qi couldn't bear to watch and struck up casual conversation. "Xiao He, have you performed in any productions with your troupe yet?" "Yes, I have!" "Ever played the lead?" "No, I'm just an understudy." "So your technical skill isn't quite there yet, making you a substitute?" "That's the provincial Kunqu opera troupe! Everyone there is—*slurp*—a respected veteran artist. I'm only seventeen, how could it be my turn?" He Qing swallowed a piece of meat and wiped her mouth. "In troupes like yours, if you can't land the lead role, do you just have to wear away your days there?" "What else could I do? The troupe is pretty good. Food and lodging are covered, they pay a salary, and there are chances to perform. Missing out on the lead is just fate; if my skills aren't good enough, I've got no one to blame... But don't worry, General Manager Chen! Since you asked me to act in your movie, I'll definitely give it my all!" He Qing patted her chest and went back to eating merrily, showing not the slightest trace of unease before a man she had met only three times. This cheerful, candid demeanor made her stand out among all the women Chen Qi had ever met—Cai Ming excluded, as Cai Ming was in a category of her own. After a few remarks, he didn't feel like pressing further. Right now, He Qing was just a chubby young girl with nothing particularly remarkable about her looks. She wouldn't reach the zenith of her beauty until after twenty-seven, and her prime would last extraordinarily long, keeping her stunning even past forty. At present, the most he would do was recommend her to the television production crew of *Dream of the Red Chamber*, helping her complete the achievement of appearing in adaptations of all Four Great Classical Novels. In his previous life, she had played Lianlian in *Journey to the West*, Xiao Qiao in *Romance of the Three Kingdoms*, Li Shishi in *Water Margin*, and Qin Keqing in the film version of *Dream of the Red Chamber*—though that cinematic version had always felt a bit like making up the numbers... The oiled-paper parcel had already been unwrapped. He picked up a duck foot with his chopsticks to taste. It was a cold dish, fragrant and spicy; Quzhou was one of the few places in Zhejiang where people enjoyed spicy food, and the flavor was quite good. As he ate, he suddenly thought of another famous figure from Quzhou: Zhou "Shuren" Xun. She was probably only seven years old right now, wasn't she? Big Beauty Gao Yuanyuan was merely two, Little Fatty Fan Bingbing wouldn't be born for another four months, and Heavenly Maiden Liu Yifei was still six years away... *Sigh, they're practically from a different generation.* Chewing on the duck foot, Chen Qi let out an inexplicable sigh. *Better stick to thinking about my Sister Xue for now.*