Zhong Chuhong

Zhong Chuhong had just finished shooting City Patrol. The film had been shot on location in South Korea, partly because production there was cheap, and partly because there was snow. Yes—snow. Once everyone had grown sick of Shaw Brothers' fake snow, any crew with a bit of ambition would shoot some real scenery. But look around the region: the mainland was off-limits, Taiwan had no snow, Japan cost too much, and Southeast Asia was out of the question. Only South Korea got a little snow, so South Korea had become one of the main locations for Hong Kong films. She had gone in winter and was only just back, resting at home, when she was summoned to Shaw Brothers for no reason she could see. "..." Fang Yihua was curious about the person Chen Qi had named, and looked her up and down. Her skin was a little dark, her face a little broad, her figure a little full. Her hair was a mess. She wore a unisex jacket and jeans. Her eyebrows were thick and heavy, and all her features were large, her mouth included. Taken one by one, none of them counted as pretty, but together they were unusually harmonious. When she smiled she showed white teeth and two dimples. Not a beauty in the traditional sense, but she did have something of her own. Fang Yihua thought this to herself, then asked, "Do you have a film on your hands?" "I just finished a film and I'm helping with some post-production. After that I have nothing lined up." Zhong Chuhong brightened. Were they giving her a new film? Manager Fang thought highly of her! Sure enough, Fang Yihua spoke—and the moment she did, Zhong Chuhong was struck dumb. "The Left has a film and wants you as the female lead. I've already agreed. Finish up here and go over." "The Left? Then I... then..." Zhong Chuhong was floored. She pointed at herself. "Why did you agree to let me shoot a Left film?" "This concerns company strategy. You don't need to know." "Then what about the Free General Association?" "We're Shaw Brothers. What are you afraid of? Go, and don't worry." Zhong Chuhong had no choice. She could only agree. Dejected, she returned to Tsim Sha Tsui. Her family lived in a famous place: Chungking Mansions! Chungking Mansions had both residents and shops. When it was first built it had been very high-end, and British officers and local stars often came and went. Later it slowly went to seed. People of Indian and Pakistani descent came to fill the place, and public order grew worse and worse. Her father did renovations, her mother sold clothes, and below her were three younger siblings. "Ah Hong!" She reached her mother's little stall. Seeing the look on her face, her mother asked, "What did they call you in for? Why so glum?" "They told me to shoot a film!" "Isn't that a good thing?" "They told me to shoot a Left film! If I do, I might get blacklisted. Manager Fang said she'd protect me, but who knows how it'll turn out. I don't know what she's thinking, agreeing like that." "Then can you refuse to go?" "What standing do I have to set terms? If they tell me to go, I go. At worst I'll come back and sell clothes with you!" "Aiya, don't think like that. Listen properly to the company's arrangements. They surely see clearer than you. It'll be fine... You've been stiff-necked and hot-tempered since you were little. To get by in that circle you need to be a bit smoother," her mother urged. "I know, I know! I'm going upstairs." Zhong Chuhong went in. Home was just as cramped. She had one pitiful little bed of her own. She flung herself onto the bed, listless, her head full of the matter, then suddenly lifted it again. "Oh—last year! I remember now. You already named me last year!" She remembered that last year Mr. Chen of the Left had mentioned her once in the papers, something about how, given time, she would surely stand supreme over Hong Kong and lead the field. "Boss, we don't even know each other! Why bring me up for no reason, and then call me to shoot a film? I only want to earn a little money in peace!" Zhong Chuhong clutched her hair. Her opinion of that Mr. Chen, whom she had never met, turned thoroughly sour. ...... "Hwa, hwa, hwa!" "Hwa, hwa, hwa!" In the Great Wall company dormitory, the gas water heater roared. Liu Dehua held the showerhead in one hand and carefully worked Chen Qi's hair with the other, then dried it with care. "Mr. Chen, it's ready!" "Sit here." "All right!" Chen Qi sat before a mirror. A cape was flicked around him and tied. Scissors in one hand, comb in the other, Liu Dehua cut his hair with every appearance of skill. "Your technique's not bad!" "I was an apprentice. I can do anything. If I hadn't gone into show business, my greatest dream was to open a salon. What I do best is Audrey Hepburn's hairstyle." Audrey Hepburn... Chen Qi scoffed inwardly at Hong Kong's miraculous transliterations. "Leave her out of it. She's not a good person." "Hm? Everyone says she's an angel fallen to earth. I've seen Roman Holiday." Liu Dehua was puzzled. "Let me tell you. The two most misunderstood things in Hollywood are that Hepburn is an angel and Monroe is a whore. Don't think what you see is the truth. The verdict on those two could be turned completely around." Chen Qi tossed it off, then asked, "How's the life experience going?" "Great!" "The truth!" "Uh... it's boring. I sit in the bank all day and don't know what to do." "Have you written the character biography?" "I'm writing it!" "Liang Jiahui has already given me his. I've given the two of you a few lessons as well. You still have twenty days to learn how to improve. If you don't meet my standard, you don't need to act." Gulp. Liu Dehua swallowed and dared not make another sound. His contract was already signed. Eight years! The monthly base was 800 the first year, 1,200 the second, 1,800 the third... rising year by year. But they provided a dormitory, and the set had a canteen, so the cost of living dropped at a stroke. Filming paid an extra fee on top. Ten thousand was the baseline. If he won an award or the box office was good, there would be a bonus. How the fee would rise later could wait until later. Great Wall had money now, and the terms were much better than before. Before, they had been worse. In Shi Hui's time, for instance, actresses who were not her equal got tens of thousands for one film, while Shi Hui got only a few thousand. When the haircut was finished, his hair was washed once more. Chen Qi looked into the mirror. The craft really was good. It brought out his handsome, capable air to the full. "Knock, knock, knock!" Someone was knocking outside. Liu Dehua went to open the door. It was Shi Hui. She smiled. "I prepared a set of clothes for you. Try them on!" As she spoke she opened the bag and took out a gray suit, a red tie, a white shirt, and a pair of leather shoes. Liu Dehua stared at them in a daze. Chen Qi said, "Go change inside. What are you standing there for?" "Oh! Oh!" He hurried into the inner room and came out a moment later. "One look and anyone can tell you've never worn a suit. Why is it all crooked? You can't even tie a tie. Come here!" Shi Hui straightened the clothes with her own hands and tied the tie for him. Liu Dehua held his chin stiffly up, eyes shut, his ears a little red. Seeing this, she gave him a smack. "You're a Great Wall actor now. I'm director of the Artists Department, in charge of all of you. From now on, anything at all, you can tell me. Troubles in life, too. I'm very willing to listen to what's on your minds." "I—I understand!" "Still so shy, child. I'm old enough to be your mother. All right, I'm off!" Shi Hui turned and went out. Chen Qi watched and clicked his tongue. A cadre like Shi Hui, seasoned in revolutionary struggle, had young people entirely in hand. Once the artists grew in number, her importance truly could not be replaced. He thought a moment, then asked, "Huazai, are you interested in singing?" "It's all right!" "Great Wall has voice teachers. You can go and study. Later, if you develop across film, television, and song, you'll have more room." "Oh. Then I'll study!" Liu Dehua scratched his head. His future was a complete blank. However they arranged things, that was how he would do them. Eager to show willing, he had come over first thing in the morning to cut Chen Qi's hair. It was still early. After he ate he went downstairs and, in the brand-new outfit, made straight for Bank Street in Central.