Zhu Yin

Beep! Beep! In the morning, a tiny pickup truck pulled up at the entrance of Clear Water Bay Studio. The driver tapped the horn twice and called out, "Hey, buddy, open the gate! We're here for the audition!" "Whoa, you drive a cargo truck to an audition?" "It's for our family business! I'm bringing my daughter here, what's it to you?" The gate opened, and the small truck drove in, parking on the small plaza in front of the main administrative building. The door opened, and ten-year-old Zhu Yin hopped out. Petite and slightly tan, she possessed remarkably smooth skin, lustrous black hair, exceptionally striking facial features, and bright, spirited eyes. Wearing a long skirt, she clutched her mother's hand and suddenly said, "Mommy, can we not do this?" "Weren't you the one begging to come?" "I'm suddenly a little scared!" "We're already here. Taking a look inside won't hurt you." The driver—her father—took his daughter's hand and led her into the main building. Their family ran a pastry shop—not the kind selling flatbreads, but gift-boxed pastries meant as tourist souvenirs. They were by no means wealthy, but they were comfortably well-off, wanting for nothing. Zhu Yin was still in primary school. She loved movies, television, and music, so when she saw the casting call for children, she wanted to check it out. Outsiders like them generally didn't care about left-wing or right-wing politics; as long as she could act, that was fine. Besides, she was just a child. The family of three went inside, received a sheet of dialogue lines, and was told to wait. Zhu Yin looked around. There were around seven or eight groups, accompanied by their parents. Some of the girls were pretty, while others looked quite ordinary. Never believe the nonsense from female stars claiming, "I never thought I was pretty." That was just talk to please audiences. True beauties always knew from birth. She had known she was pretty ever since she was little, and she was very confident in her looks. Holding the script sheet, she had zero experience and only knew that she needed to memorize the lines thoroughly. The little girl in Orphan was written to look nine years old. In the original version, the actress was Isabelle Fuhrman, who had been twelve when she played the part. The actor had to be slightly older, or else communicating and directing might prove impossible, but she couldn't be too old, or her appearance wouldn't fit. At ten years old, Zhu Yin was right at the lower limit. ... Meanwhile, in an office. Both Chen Qi and Fu Chi were present. With the director not yet chosen, they were screening the child actors first to pick a few backups and leave detailed decisions for when a director was secured. In truth, Chen Qi already had a candidate in mind, though making it happen would be a bit tricky. "General Manager Fu, ready to start?" "How many groups in total?" "Eight groups." "Still on the low side, but oh well, let's begin!" The assistant handed the materials to the two of them and stepped out to call the candidates. Shortly after, the first little girl entered, needing her mother beside her because she was terrified. One glance told Chen Qi she wouldn't do. He asked a few polite questions, had her read a line of dialogue, and then sent them on their way. The second was much the same. The third was even worse—a chubby little girl who burst into tears the moment she stepped through the door, leaving immediately. "There's a reason they say scenes with kids and animals are the hardest to shoot. Finding a decent child actor is just too tough!" "How about letting Zhizhi audition? She has a good look," Chen Qi teased with a smile. "No, absolutely not! Even if she is my daughter, I can't use public office for private gain. Besides, Zhizhi isn't right for this role at all. Next!" Right after, another girl walked in. She came in alone. She looked about eleven or twelve, slender and tall, with short hair and obvious baby fat on her face, exuding the rebellious energy of a tomboy. "Yuan Jieying?" "Yes!" "Did your family not accompany you?" "No, I decided to come audition on my own." "Then read a piece of dialogue. You can look at the sheet." Out of consideration for children, they were allowed to read from the script, but Yuan Jieying refused to hold it. She seemed intent on showing off how capable she was, yet she stumbled through her lines with zero emotion, growing visibly self-conscious as she went on. "That will do. Go home and wait for word from us!" Once she was escorted out, Chen Qi said, "Technique can be trained, and experience can be gained. My gut feeling about her is good. Even if she can't play the lead, she could play a classmate or someone similar." "I was thinking the same thing. Let's keep her as a backup." Chen Qi made a checkmark in his notebook, unable to hold back a smile. Even during the star-studded golden era of Hong Kong cinema, Yuan Jieying stood out as quite distinctive. Discovered by Huang Baiming in her teens, she became part of the Happy Girl Troupe, starred in the Happy Ghost series, and later appeared in works like Swordsman II, Tai Chi Master, and I Can't Accept Any Corruption. Right now she was too young, but when she grew up, her short hair would look dashing! In fact, he had favored types like Li Lizhen or Wen Bixia for the role, but both were already fifteen—far too old. With only eight groups in total, they soon reached the last one. Chen Qi glanced at the profile, raised an eyebrow, and stared toward the doorway with anticipation. Before long, a youthful version of Fairy Zixia walked in, already showing faint hints of her future peak look, smiling shyly and sweetly. "This girl is quite nice!" Fu Chi's eyes lit up as well. "My name is Zhu Yin. I'm ten years old and in fifth grade. I really love acting, and I hope you can give me this opportunity!" She was clearly reciting rehearsed lines, nervous to the extreme. Chen Qi had her read a piece of dialogue too. She stumbled through it just the same, but he didn't say much and let her head home. "Let's make her a backup as well. Most kids don't know how to act. I think we should train a few of them for a period, and whichever performs best, we keep." "I'm worried they can't be taught," Fu Chi said. "This role is the film's core. If the casting falls short, the whole project is ruined." "They can be taught!" Chen Qi smiled and said, "I won't tell them what they're acting, nor will I tell them the plot. There's no need for them to understand it at all. I'll break down what I want into pieces and have them mimic each expression and movement one by one. Whoever mimics it best gets the part. Uncle, to be frank, your filming pace is too slow. Striving for perfection is fine, but in an environment like Hong Kong, some things have to change when necessary. Though this method of acting is superficial, it's more than enough most of the time. If there comes a truly rare masterpiece that requires actors to immerse themselves in real life and undergo countless refinements, then we can take our time. What matters most for us right now is ramping up our output." "..." Fu Chi was not a stubborn man. He sighed and said, "The veteran directors at the studio are used to taking their time, like Zhang Xinyan. It's hard for me to force them to change. But directors hired from the outside usually shoot very fast. What worries me now is that if we go fully commercial and pander entirely to the market, we'll lose sight of our original purpose. Making money is a means of survival, not the ultimate goal." "You want to tackle realistic themes? That's fine. Once we have a stable channel for earning foreign exchange, we can do realistic themes. Aren't we aiming to earn foreign exchange right now? To be honest, we don't even have time to worry about Hong Kong yet!" "Look at how confident you are..." Fu Chi chuckled. "Let's settle on a director first. We don't even have one yet." "We do. I have someone in mind. How about Tsui Hark?" "Tsui Hark? He belongs to Cinema City!" Fu Chi shook his head and explained, "Cinema City leans entirely toward the Taiwan market and has great ties with the Free Association. They despise leftists. They would never lend Tsui Hark to us." "Uncle, here's how I see it..." Chen Qi said, "It's not that we're leftists just because they say so; it's that whoever the hell we say is a leftist is a leftist! They don't get to decide who is a leftist—we do!" Fu Chi froze, startled. "What do you plan to do?" "Leave it to me. I'll go have a friendly chat with them. We're all reasonable people."