"Cut!"
"OK, moving on!"
"Take a break, everyone—lunch is served!"
Following Tsui Hark's shout, Qiu Shuzhen trotted over with a beaming face, sidling right up to Chen Qi like a puppy begging for a head pat. "Shifu, how did I do? Am I getting better and better?"
"Thirty out of a hundred, maybe."
"Why only thirty? That's not even a passing grade!"
"Marlon Brando only gets an eighty-five in my book. You're nowhere close."
"Who's Marlon Brando?"
"The Godfather, of course!"
Tsui Hark strolled over with an easy swagger and chuckled. "Ah Qi, did you take her on as your apprentice?"
"Nope, she's just shouting it on her own."
"What do you mean, on my own? You clearly agreed!"
Seeing her on the verge of bristling, Chen Qi smiled. "We're talking business. Go get your lunch."
"Oh!"
Pouting, Qiu Shuzhen obediently trotted off to pick up her boxed meal.
Tsui Hark glanced after her and said, "Ah Zhen has good raw talent. She's just lacking experience. With some nurturing, she'll become a star. I hear Great Wall signed her up early?"
"Yeah, she belongs to the Left. Hands off. What about you? Want to come over?"
"Hey, movies are movies—let's keep politics out of it!"
Tsui Hark clearly had no desire to broach the topic, but Chen Qi countered with a chuckle, "This isn't politics, it's proper business. I told you before: Cinema City distributes profits unfairly. The Big Three are the real bosses with equity. That 'Group of Seven' sounds fancy, but you're just high-level wage earners."
"We're brothers!"
"Even brothers need clear accounts. Ask them for shares and see if they still treat you like a brother."
Chen Qi poached without hesitation. "Cinema City is far too commercialized. You won't last there. Come over to the Left. Sure, we need to make money too, but we can back you to shoot one commercial hit, followed by a passion project that doesn't need to turn a profit. You don't really care about the box office anyway, so why worry about the Taiwan market? And if you're worried about Hong Kong ticket sales—well, look at *Orphan* right in front of you. We can venture into America together."
"Venture into America?"
Tsui Hark was taken aback. He fell silent for a moment before shaking his head. "I don't agree with some of your political views. I won't join you. But to be honest, I think you're a good guy. Maybe one day my thinking will change. Anyway, forget it—let's not talk about that. The two Americans you brought in are fantastic. Top-notch professionals. They might not mingle with us much off-camera, but their acting is spot-on and always delivers the exact effect I'm looking for. If you're aiming to sell this to America, then I wish you luck in advance."
With that, Tsui Hark walked off, almost like he was beating a retreat.
Chen Qi chuckled. He hadn't come to Hong Kong merely to make movies; he had come to stir up trouble. Golden Harvest and Shaw Brothers were deeply rooted, whereas Cinema City's foundation was the shallowest.
Zeng Zhiwei prioritized personal gain, while Tsui Hark valued creative freedom. If Tsui Hark left, Shi Nansheng would inevitably follow. Teddy Robin was fairly detached, while friction simmered beneath the surface among Mai Jia, Shi Tian, and Huang Baiming—conflicts of interest that simply hadn't erupted into the open yet.
Within two years, Chen Qi intended to dismantle Cinema City and break them up ahead of time.
***
Having a capable director at the helm yielded endless dividends. With Tsui Hark around, Chen Qi had it much easier, only needing to keep an eye on crucial junctures.
That day, as he was watching by the studio floor, Fu Chi suddenly called him outside.
"Xia Meng is here!"
"Something up?"
"She set up Bluebird and has spent two years preparing. She's finally making her company's debut feature. Remember when we went to Berlin and met Ann Hui?"
"Oh, you mean *Boat People*?" Chen Qi recalled.
"Right. Ann Hui is directing, and the leads are set. Xia Meng brought the team over to take a look; they might need to rent the studios here."
The two went up to the main administration building and entered a reception room. Xia Meng and Ann Hui were both there, along with three leading actors.
Chen Qi looked over and recognized every single one of them.
One was a middle-aged man of indeterminate age sporting a mustache: George Lam. He seemed never to have been young and never to grow old, entering the industry already looking middle-aged.
Another was a veteran actress from the earlier era: Miao Qianren.
The last was someone exceptionally familiar: Liu Dehua, who had just turned twenty. Sporting a buzz cut, dark-skinned, and utterly green.
When the two sides met, the conversation was mostly between Xia Meng and Fu Chi. During the turbulent years, Xia Meng had fled to Canada for self-preservation, so Fu Chi had always held a grudge against her. But times had changed, and old grievances no longer mattered much.
"Our location shoots will take place in Hainan and Zhanjiang. We've already coordinated with the local authorities, and the military will provide support."
"On what scale?"
"Twenty thousand troops, six to seven hundred extras, and tanks rolling down the streets."
Xia Meng spoke with total nonchalance, while Liu Dehua was already gaping in disbelief.
*Boat People* dealt with the unrest in Vietnam. Given its unique backdrop, military participation was essential to achieve the desired effect.
Originally, the part had been offered to Chow Yun-fat. Terrified of offending the Free Association, Chow Yun-fat declined, recommending Liu Dehua instead. Liu Dehua was still in TVB's artist training class at the time, having only played minor bit parts in a handful of productions.
Why did he dare take it?
Because Chow Yun-fat had told him: you're just a newcomer; you don't have a market to lose yet. Having work is what matters most.
And so the deal was struck. The crew traveled to the mainland in secret to shoot, with Ann Hui operating under a pseudonym. But during filming, the Hong Kong media blew their cover. The Free Association was furious. Cooperating with the Left was forbidden, let alone shooting on the mainland!
Ann Hui was a powerhouse; she simply abandoned the pseudonym and went by her real name.
Meanwhile, Liu Dehua, George Lam, and the others were forced to write letters of repentance...
"How many months will you be shooting?"
"About four months. The first three on location, and the last month in the studio. Can you accommodate our schedule?" Xia Meng asked.
"Of course. We don't have that many productions these days—not like back when you were here," Fu Chi said.
Xia Meng smiled awkwardly.
She hadn't really done anything wrong, but facing a genuine fighter, her feelings were complicated.
On the other side, Chen Qi had already struck up a conversation with Liu Dehua. "I've seen your work. You played a mountain bandit alongside your buddy, dying the moment you came on screen."
"Haha, *The Fearless Duo*, right? That was Liang Jiahui and me."
"So his name is Liang Jiahui? Both of you were great—plenty of potential."
"He's way better than me. He went to college, you know. His grasp of character is amazing..."
Liu Dehua chatted cautiously. He knew the young man before him was a force to be reckoned with: the box-office success of *Tai Chi*, his leftist standing, and his open defiance of the Hong Kong film industry made him someone far beyond what Liu Dehua could cross.
Liu came from an impoverished household with many siblings. Having dropped out of high school, he had worked in factories and matured early.
He hadn't always been named Liu Dehua; his birth name was Liu Furong, a moniker that perfectly reflected his humble background.
"All right, we'll take our leave!"
Her talk with Fu Chi finished, Xia Meng rose to say goodbye. Liu Dehua nodded politely to Chen Qi and followed the group out.
Chen Qi began turning things over in his mind.
He categorized Hong Kong celebrities into a few types.
One consisted of people like Liang Jiahui, Liza Wang, and Xu Xiaoming.
Another consisted of people like Jackie Chan, Liu Dehua, and Chen Baixiang—actors who may have leaned toward Taiwan for commercial survival, but once they swung back to the mainland, kept their heads down and caused no trouble. They were usable.
And then there was the final type: those best crushed directly.
*Boat People is going to get exposed... Should I trick him up Mount Liang? Bah, trick him into joining the Left?*
Chapter 236