Chapter 262

On the last day of December, Yang Jie came looking for Chen Qi. She was an artistic type to the bone. She passed a few remarks on the courtyard, went inside, sat down, and opened with, "Two things. First: Justice Bao premieres on Chinese New Year's Eve!" "Good news!" "Second, the unit is preparing the Four Great Classical Novels, and I've been given one." "Dream of the Red Chamber?" "No. Journey to the West!" Yang Jie was still sighing over it. "Didn't you say back then that if they filmed the Four Great Classical Novels, you'd volunteer? Well, I've come to you. Will you write the script, or what?" "Of course I'll write the script. But I'm too busy. One episode at most." "One episode will do. I haven't the first idea yet. Formal preparations don't begin until after Spring Festival. Write it whenever you have the time." The old lady did everything in a whirl. The moment she finished speaking, she was ready to leave. Chen Qi said, "I have another suggestion. If you shoot scenes of riding the clouds and mists, you'll probably have to use wire rigs—that is, suspend people on steel wires so they can fly. If you decide to use them, you must come to me. In the whole country, no one but my people knows how." "..." Yang Jie gave him a surprised look and laughed. "All right! I'll see when the time comes!" The old lady left. Chen Qi was moved by his own devotion. I've worried my heart to pieces for the motherland's arts! Among the CCTV adaptations of the Four Great Classical Novels, Journey to the West was the most unusual, because it would be broadcast while it was still being filmed. Preparations would begin in February of the coming year. By October the pilot episode, Subduing the Demon in the Kingdom of Wuji, would be out. Some criticism would be raised, but the general opinion would still be that it was well made, the results better than expected, and the audience response strong. Caught up in that mood, Journey to the West would offer a few episodes every Spring Festival, and not even in the order of the story. For instance, in '83 they would air Stealing the Ginseng Fruit, and not until '84 The Scheme to Take in Zhu Bajie. By 1986, eleven episodes would already have aired. Every aspect would have gradually matured; the opening theme would already be Swift Melody from the Cloud Palace, and the makeup of master and disciples would have settled. That would be where the name for the '86 Journey to the West came from. "Aiya, which episode should I write?" "Of course I'll write A Merry Passage Through the Women's Kingdom! That's how you get your name in the history books. The internet of later ages will have to enshrine me and burn incense until I become a god..." Ever since crossing over, Chen Qi had been addicted to ticking the classics off his list. He was bound to get in on it. He also wanted to get those girls in to show their faces, as an Easter egg for netizens of later generations. "Should Sister Xue go?" He thought it over. Gong Xue was too big a name now. He didn't know whether there was a suitable role. He'd see later. ...... In the blink of an eye, it was New Year's Day. Before he quite knew it, three years had passed since Chen Qi crossed over. He considered his modest successes good enough. And he was a year older—twenty-two now—and had reached the legal marriage age. "Ptui!" On the morning of the year's first day, Chen Qi finished brushing his teeth, spat out the rinse, and stood shivering in the empty rear courtyard. This was Beijing at its coldest. Those two trees had long gone bare, and the courtyard was bleak. Gong Xue was not there either. She had been rehearsing yesterday. A unit as large as Beijing Film Studio was of course going to hold a New Year gala. Gong Xue was one of the representative performers. The union had insisted she put on two numbers, and she had chosen singing and dancing. "Ah—cold and lonely as a deserted sandbar!" Chen Qi couldn't even be bothered to cook. He drifted over to the little door, drew the bolt with a clatter, and stepped into a U-shaped lane. Turning the corner by the wing room, he was suddenly among people. Li Jianqun had come out without a coat, a wool blanket wrapped slantwise around her like a Gypsy. She called out, "Teacher Chen, scrounging a meal again?" "I still can't cook. What good things did you make?" "Steamed buns, rice porridge, salted vegetables. Mm, and eggs." "Eggs—not bad! I'll go have a taste!" In the main room of the front courtyard, Liang Xiaosheng and Ji Chunhua were there as well. The four of them ate together. Partway through, Liang Xiaosheng suddenly said, "Think anyone will come today?" "China Youth Daily has that much pull. They're running half a page of advertisements for us. Someone's bound to follow the address and find us." "Brother Qi, you run advertisements for a magazine too?" Ji Chunhua asked through a mouthful of steamed bun, the words muffled. "Are you kidding? I sank tens of thousands into it and booked a whole month. They have to run me once every few days!" "Wow. Then people will definitely come. I can help." "I really will need you. If anyone makes trouble, you throw them out for me." Chen Qi grinned. The thirty thousand copies ordered by bookstores around the country had long been shipped. Today was the official release, and the China Youth Daily advertisement would come out as well. They had just finished breakfast when a sound came from outside. The four junior editors had arrived. "It's a holiday. Why are you still here?" "Heh heh. We couldn't sit still at home. Better to sit in the office!" "That's right, that's right. If anything comes up, we can help." Chen Qi marveled. What fine initiative. In a later age they'd be the very incarnation of workers who volunteer for overtime. They cleaned and swept, carefully wiped the plaque of World of Wonders, left one leaf of the gate standing open, and, nervous and full of hope, prepared to meet the day. ...... At nine o'clock the sun finally broke through Beijing's haze and spilled down thin rays of light. At a bus stop in Xicheng District, a bus door opened. Twenty-three-year-old Feng Xiaogang, in an army greatcoat and a cap, hopped down none too nimbly. He had the day off too, and wanted to go home for a look. His parents had divorced when he was small, and he lived with his mother and older sister. After secondary school he had joined the army. Because he loved art, he had then entered the cultural work troupe as a scenic artist, designing stage sets and putting them up and taking them down. The troupe had many pretty women comrades. He had little to do with them, but he was always full of yearning, and he often dreamed up a scene: a woman soldier of the arts troupe, just out of her bath, wet hair loose down her back, neck bare, her uniform pulled on open at the front, stuffing her army cap into her satchel as she walked out of the barracks... Later, he would put that scene into Youth. He walked a while and entered a huge factory compound—the Xinhua Printing Plant. Farther in lay a district of single-story houses, the workers' quarters. His mother was the factory's clinic doctor. "Ma!" "Gangzi's back. Cold?" "Pretty cold. Anything to eat? I'm hungry!" "Just home and it's eat, eat, eat. Wait there. I'll go make you something!" Feng Xiaogang grinned, showing a mouthful of rotten teeth, took off the greatcoat, and sat beside the little stove to warm himself. He was from an ordinary family. When he ran with Wang Shuo's crowd, he said he was from Beipao. The Beijing circle was all old artistic families and children of the big compounds. The moment they heard Beipao, they took him for one of their own. Only later did they learn it was the Beijing Light Bulb Factory... Just then, warming himself at the fire, he picked up a stack of newspapers. "A central leader says: one country, two systems. Two systems can be allowed. They must not undermine the mainland's system, and we must not undermine theirs... Oh—Hong Kong is to have One Country, Two Systems, and Taiwan is to be peacefully reunified. Not bad!" "We're to play a match against New Zealand. No idea if we can make the World Cup!" "Eh?" His eyes fell on one page, nearly half a page long, a huge headline catching the eye: "Exclusive Reveal of Tai Chi Stories—Behind-the-Scenes Photos Like None Other!"