Mom, Hit Me Once More

Night had fallen deep. The window of Room 302 stood open, letting in the faint sounds of factory workers strolling on their evening walks. A coil of mosquito incense sat on the desk, drifting wisps of blue-gray smoke into the air. Chen Qi had grown a bit hot and stifled from writing, so he went to the washroom to splash water over his face and wipe down his body. Returning to the room, he flopped onto the bed to rest for a while. This year he had already wrapped up Tai Chi 2 and The Dead and the Deadly, with at least two more screenplays waiting in line. Writing four film scripts in a single year—fucking insane! Wait, what? I'm just copying them? Oh, never mind then... "That's how it is during the startup phase. As long as the scripts queue up to be copied, that's fine, but my tenosynovitis has a lot more to worry about." Chen Qi mumbled with his eyes closed, steeped in grievances. He patted around on the bed with his hand—nothing. In this era, just lounging around meant literally doing nothing. The future was different; lounging around back then was roughly equivalent to scrolling Douyin, gaming, reading web novels, hooking up and flirting, snacking, eating skewers, getting your nails done, foot baths, massages... If you were just doing nothing while lounging around in the future, you were basically a lost cause. "Life without a smartphone... I wonder what the deal was with those fuel tankers hauling soybean oil back then, anyway?" After resting for a bit, Chen Qi got up, stretched his limbs, and buried his head back into his desk. In 1988, Taiwan released a movie called Mom, Hit Me Once More—bah! Mama, Love Me Once More. It was ostensibly adapted from a true story, Eighteen Years of a Madwoman, but the actual content differed wildly and had almost nothing to do with it, so he wasn't worried about anyone getting suspicious. Back then, tearjerkers of that sort were already out of fashion; it was pulled from theaters after just three days, grossing under ten thousand New Taiwan dollars. Later, when the mainland imported it, it became unimaginably popular. The theme song, "Mama is the Best in the World," was sung across the length and breadth of the country... Of course, all aesthetics belonged to their era. In later generations, that song was criticized into the ground: Did anyone consider the feelings of children from single-parent families? Why overlook a father's love? Mothers aren't all good, either... To each their own, so no comment. The story was quite simple: the female lead is abandoned by a scumbag after bearing his child. The scumbag turns around and marries a wealthy heiress, but when the heiress proves infertile, the man's family comes back to snatch the child. After endless agonizing tugs-of-war, the female lead goes mad... Viewed through modern eyes, it was utterly worthless, reeking of feudal dregs. It even had a scene where the child falls ill and the female lead goes around kowtowing and praying to Buddha—something strictly banned in the mainland. So Chen Qi swung his pen and set the background squarely before the founding of the People's Republic, cutting every bit of the romantic intimacy. The plot beats remained identical, but the nature of the female lead was transformed: she was now a pitiable woman oppressed and poisoned by the old society! The man came from a merchant family and fled to Hong Kong after liberation. Over twenty years later, the child grew up and went to the United States to study. Just in time for mainland China's Reform and Opening Up, which welcomed returning overseas Chinese. Wishing to contribute to his homeland, he ended up finding his birth mother. The mother suffered from bouts of madness, sometimes lucid, sometimes unhinged, with the bad spells growing longer as she aged. In the hospital, the child sang that song once more, awakening her maternal love... In the end, mother and son were reunited, running toward a glorious future beneath the shining light of the new era. There was critique of the old society, deep emotional melodrama, applause for the sweet spots of Reform and Opening Up, and hallmarks of Sino-American friendship. All the key elements were checked off. Chen Qi had stacked so many buffs purely to conceal his real objective: make the audience cry! If you went straight for unabashed melodrama from the get-go, critics would call you uncultured. But add all these elements, and it was a completely different story. Back when people watched this film, schools and work units bought out entire screenings. Everyone basically brought their own handkerchiefs, and the theaters were filled with wails, as if anyone who didn't cry lacked a conscience. As for the kids, they'd go home and be filial to their parents for two days at most before going right back to tearing down the rafters. …… "Sob sob sob... waah..." "Stop crying!" "Sob sob sob..." "You've been crying for a whole hour!" "I can't stop!" Inside the tongzilou, Chen Qi stared helplessly at Gong Xue, whose eyes were swollen like peaches, and the three drenched handkerchiefs beside her. From the moment she began reading the script, around a quarter of the way through, she had started weeping. It had escalated from quiet sniffling to utterly uninhibited bawling, until she was finally left breathless and exhausted from crying—ample proof that women really were made of water. "Why did you have to write such a heartbreaking story? My heart aches so much right now." "Doesn't it have a bright ending?" "But the journey is agonizing! Whenever I think about it... waah... it's like I've become a mother myself..." Gong Xue finally managed to stop. Clutching his hand, she declared with absolute, unwavering certainty, "I want to act in this. I have to act in this!" "It was meant for you in the first place. Do you remember what I told you? I want you to become the female star with the most captivating crying scenes in all of China." "Mm!" "Here's your chance. In this movie, you can cry in every conceivable way, and you can make the audience cry in every conceivable way. Once you master that, your golden statue will be cast forever, and your place in the audience's hearts will never fade." Gong Xue was accustomed to his odd expressions by now and understood he meant establishing her standing. "Who do you want to direct it?" she asked. "Director Wang, of course. We know each other inside and out." "I was thinking the same thing. Should we go see her right now?" "Huh?" "Come on, hurry!" Gong Xue seemed energized by the script, bursting with drive. She dragged him straight to Wang Haowei's home. Wang Haowei was in the middle of dinner. Setting down her chopsticks, she read through the script, and then she started crying too: "Sob sob sob... Xiao Chen, you monster... Writing a story like this, you're not leaving any woman in this world a way to live... I don't even have children, and even I'm crying for this mother..." "Uh..." Chen Qi scratched his head and exchanged an awkward glance with her husband. A movie like this couldn't earn foreign exchange, and it was aimed squarely at the Hundred Flowers Awards anyway, so he simply handed it over to Beijing Film Studio. Wang Haowei was more than willing, radiating the fierce aura of someone ready to fight to the death anyone who dared contest her for it. "Don't worry. Since you trust me, I'll definitely do this movie justice!" "Xiao Gong and I already have experience working together, so that's a given!" "By the way, do you have anyone in mind for the male lead?" "None. I'll leave it all to you, Director Wang. You choose..." Chen Qi paused, then added, "Just don't cast that Jade-Faced Erlang Pink Butterfly." …… After finishing their conversation with Wang Haowei, they returned to Gong Xue's dorm room. Chen Qi lay on the bed with her snuggled in his arms. Both of them were fully dressed—yes, that had to be mentioned. "Are you leaving soon?" Gong Xue asked out of nowhere. Without waiting for his answer, she continued, "I can tell. You aren't putting your heart into Tai Chi 2 the way you did for the first one. It feels like you've brought us all up to speed so you can finally be free." "Look at that little head of yours. Your intuition is sharp!" Surprised, Chen Qi said, "I was planning to tell you in a little while. I'll probably be heading to Hong Kong in the second half of the year, but not for too long." "How long is not too long?" "Hmm, half a year? Maybe four or five months, it's hard to say..." "And you call that not too long?" Gong Xue propped herself up, looked at him, and said softly, "You know I don't want to be separated from you. You didn't want to take me along, so you found me a project to work on so I wouldn't have time to look for you." Chen Qi chuckled, seeing her being 'unreasonable' for the very first time. "I'm going there on serious business!" "I know. That's why I'm enduring it." She fell silent for a moment before suddenly asking, "When will your house be finished?" "Autumn, probably. But the back courtyard is already done. Once the paint airs out and the furniture is moved in, it'll be ready to live in." "Oh..." Gong Xue burrowed back into his chest. Wondering whatever she was thinking, she let out a gentle sigh.