Shi Wenxin put on her reading glasses, held up the script—thick as a Xianghe meat pie—and flipped to the newly written passages.
First, she noticed an added character: Geng Ying.
Geng Ying supported the entire family on her own and was a virtuous woman in the traditional sense, yet she had an "annoying" side: she privately urged Zhou Yun to leave her younger brother, only to turn around and tell him that Zhou Yun had left of her own accord...
"From the audience's perspective, she's certainly annoying, but from her own perspective, she did nothing wrong."
Shi Wenxin nodded. This character was a great addition, vivid and layered. In reality, such tropes would be played out to death in later generations, nothing novel at all, but one had to remember the background of this era.
For a fairly long period, character portrayals in domestic films had been extremely monolithic: either completely right or utterly wrong, good or bad, with no room left to explore the nuances of human nature. This had to be viewed objectively; a revolutionary struggle was not a dinner party, and such works had been necessary.
Shi Wenxin first approved of Geng Ying's character, then read on until she reached that dialogue.
Subconsciously adjusting her reading glasses, she leaned forward and read it several times over before exclaiming, unable to suppress her excitement, "Xiao Liang, come look at this!"
Liang Xiaosheng hurried over and took the script.
After a moment, he snapped his head up, thrilled. "This dialogue is brilliant! What a novel perspective!"
"What did he write?"
"Let me see!"
The other two editors gathered around as well. After reading it, both laughed and said, "Haha, didn't I say this kid had ideas? He's truly different from us older folks!"
"Young people nowadays are something else!"
"What are you all discussing?"
Just then, Jiang Huaiyan walked in. Shi Wenxin smiled. "Xiao Chen stayed up all night and delivered the draft. We've all read it—why don't you have a look?"
"Oh? That fast?"
"I forgot to tell him there was no rush and he could take his time."
Jiang Huaiyan grabbed an empty chair, dropped into it, and thumbed through the manuscript until he reached the final scene:
Zhou Yun and Geng Ying arrived at Wangjiang Pavilion on Mount Lu.
Built atop Jiandao Gorge, the pavilion was surrounded by mountains on three sides with an open vista to the north, making it a prime vantage point for viewing the Yangtze River from afar.
Geng Ying said, "What exactly do you want to talk to me about? Let me tell you, even if my father gave his consent, my opinion of you hasn't changed. Don't think you can convince me."
Zhou Yun said, "Sister Ying, why do you have such a prejudice against me? Is it wrong for me to love Geng Hua?"
"You see? It's not that I'm prejudiced against you. You go on and on about liking and loving without a shred of shame. We aren't like you!"
"..."
Zhou Yun was silent for a moment before asking, "Sister Ying, may I ask you something? Do you love your motherland?"
"What kind of question is that? Of course I love my motherland!"
"Then do you love your father and mother?"
"Of course!"
"And do you love your brother?"
"Of course!"
"Then... do you love your sweetheart?"
"I..."
Geng Ying froze.
"Do you think those feelings are different, or are they the same? Aren't they all our most passionate, most genuine emotions?
"Sister Ying, I love my parents, I love Geng Hua, and I love my motherland.
"My father often told me about the magnificent mountains and rivers here, about every single tree and blade of grass. That's why I came back. I didn't come just to see Mount Lu; I want to see the Five Great Mountains, the Yangtze River and the Great Wall, Mount Huang and the Yellow River!
"I want to travel across the land; I want to visit Tiananmen!
"This is my motherland, too!
"I'm willing to stay, not just for Geng Hua, but because I feel this land is bursting with tremendous vitality. I want to feel the breath of this new era here. I'm ready to dedicate my strength to building a brighter future together!
"Sister Ying, tell me, isn't all of that love?!"
...
Jiang Huaiyan shot to his feet!
His expression was a bizarre mix of shock and exhilaration. Slapping the desk in admiration, he exclaimed, "Audacious beyond belief! Utterly magnificent!"
It was Romance on Mount Lu, after all!
Naturally, it couldn't be confined to mere personal romance. If you were going to love, make it grand!
Conventionally, it seemed the hierarchy was: greater love is love for the country, lesser love is love for an individual.
Yet love shouldn't be split into greater and lesser. Love was love—mankind's most instinctive, most sincere emotion. A person could love another person, could love their kin, and could just as well love a nation, love a people, love a great expanse of land!
Chen Qi had repackaged the ideological leitmotif into a form acceptable to the present era, yet it was still bold enough to make everyone cry out in astonishment, landing with earth-shattering impact.
"Old Jiang, what do you think? Should we hold a meeting?"
"No meeting! I'm going to see the vice... No, no, I'm going straight to Director Wang!"
Unable to wait even a moment, he clutched the script and headed straight for the studio director's office.
Wang Yang was slurping his tea when Jiang Huaiyan barged in, startling him. "What's the rush? Are we going to war with the Little Japs?"
"Sino-Japanese relations are friendly now, don't say such things!"
Jiang Huaiyan slapped the script down. "Don't you always cherish talent? There's one right before your eyes! We must film this script!"
"Oh? It's rare for you to think so highly of something. Walk me through it."
"Alright!"
And so, Jiang Huaiyan went over the newly revised Romance on Mount Lu, placing special emphasis on that dialogue.
"..."
Wang Yang rose silently, pacing with his hands clasped behind his back.
This story had too many elements: romance, the Kuomintang, America, and even a kiss scene! What kind of capitalist joke was a kiss scene?!
Every step was a minefield!
What did people fear most right now?
What people feared most was a shift in the political winds.
Wang Yang didn't have Chen Qi's prophetic cheat. He didn't know for certain that Romance on Mount Lu would succeed, but he had guts. After pacing several laps around the room, he suddenly halted and waved his large hand. "We shoot it!
"Not only will we shoot it, we'll make it one of the studio's key productions. If anything goes wrong, I'll take full responsibility!"
"With your word, that settles it!"
His heart surging, Jiang Huaiyan suddenly felt the thrill of daring to be the first in the world, feeling almost like a martyr. Returning to the Literary Department, he flourished the script. "It passed!"
"Wonderful!"
"It's definitely going to become a classic!"
"We share in the glory too!"
"Xiaosheng, go notify him quickly!"
"Right away!"
Liang Xiaosheng sprang up and hurried out, running all the way to the guesthouse. Pushing open the door to Room 302, he shouted, "Xiao Chen, it passed!"
"What passed?"
"The script passed! Director Wang gave the word himself—we're shooting it!"
"Whew!"
Chen Qi, who was just about to catch up on sleep, let out a breath of relief. He even felt a flutter of excitement. Damn it, this version wasn't just a free ride he'd copied; he had written it with his own hands. When you put in the effort, you naturally crave a payoff.
"Oh, come outside!"
"What for?"
"Just come out first!"
Liang Xiaosheng called him out, then knocked on the door next door. Chen Huaikai answered with a smile. "What's going on? I heard you shouting."
"Yes! Xiao Chen's script passed!"
"That's great! Why don't you holler it out?"
"You got it!"
Liang Xiaosheng took a deep breath. Shedding his usual reserved demeanor, he hollered at the top of his lungs, "'Romance on Mount Lu' cleared the tribunal today!"
"'Romance on Mount Lu' cleared the tribunal today!"
"Guotang," or clearing the tribunal, originally meant standing trial in a court of law.
Because script reviews at Beijing Film Studio were so strict, getting approved was extraordinarily difficult—just like surviving a court trial. Every screenwriter who made it through couldn't resist shouting the news at the top of their lungs; if they didn't shout it themselves, someone else would shout it for them. It was a shared joy that had become a tradition over time.
At Liang Xiaosheng's shout, everyone on the third floor stepped out.
Immediately afterward, the floors above and below heard it too.
"Congratulations! Congratulations!"
"He's so young!"
"I heard it's a romance film? That couldn't have been easy!"
Not just screenwriters, but staff from other departments came over to offer warm congratulations and strike up conversations, as if the film had suddenly become everyone's business.
Filmmaking in this era was run under a planned economy. Every film studio had an annual quota. Beijing Film Studio, for instance, produced seven or eight films a year—occasionally more, but most of the time they fell short of the quota.
Some years, they only made one or two.
It involved funding, scripts, personnel, policies, and much more.
Thus, greenlighting any film project was hard-won. It also meant a large group of people would have work to do. Who got to participate and who didn't was always fraught with undercurrents.
Romance on Mount Lu had passed, which meant pre-production was about to begin.
Directors, actors, crew... who knew how many pairs of eyes were fixed on it!
Chapter 22