To Each Their Own Fate

Chen Qi had pulled four capable talents into his camp. He had not made an offer to Tian Zhuangzhuang. With Zhuangzhuang's family background, having already directed four short films before even graduating, he had no shortage of resources and no need to come to the Eastern Depot. In the domestic film industry today, the Third Generation directors, represented by Xie Jin and Xie Tieli, held absolute authority. The Fourth Generation directors, represented by Wu Yigong, Xie Fei, and Teng Wenji, served as the core backbone. The Fourth Generation consisted of professionally trained directors who had graduated in the 1960s. After ten turbulent years without producing any work, they had only begun making their mark following the start of Reform and Opening-up. Counting from the very start, they had enjoyed only a few short years before the Fifth Generation had already begun bursting onto the scene. Normally, when graduates were assigned to film studios, they had to start out as assistants and endure at least seven to ten years of seasoning before they were permitted to direct independently. But the Fifth Generation was uniquely blessed by fortune, able to direct films right out of school. Furthermore, their debut works would each prove brilliant, virtually leapfrogging the Fourth Generation and seizing cultural discourse in one fell swoop. Yet at the moment, the future was hard to predict. Zhang Yimou and Zhang Junzhao were now under Chen Qi's banner, and the Eastern Depot's primary goal was earning foreign exchange. No one knew what kind of pictures they would actually make down the road. "Don't bother seeing us out! Head back inside!" "Thanks for the treat!" Late into the night, the banquet finally broke up. All five were thoroughly tipsy, stumbling out through the corner gate. Zhang Junzhao even broke into verse on the spot: "To repay our lord's favor upon the Golden Terrace, we wield the Jade Dragon and lay down our lives for him!" "Right! Lay down our lives!" Zhang Yimou chimed in with a thick, slurred tongue. "I'll definitely study hard, make rapid progress, and direct my own film!" Even a normally stone-faced man like He Ping was flushed crimson, itching to unleash the grand ambitions burning in his chest. Supporting each other, the men staggered forward. Every few steps, someone would hit the ground with a thud, only to wobble back onto their feet and trudge onward. Chen Qi watched them in dismay. Could they even ride bicycles like this? He couldn't let them ride drunk. "Forget it, forget it. Stay here tonight, sleep it off, and head back tomorrow!" "How could we impose? That's too much trouble... Where are we sleeping?" The group came staggering back. Chen Qi regretted his words immediately, but what was said could not be unsaid. He led them to a guest room furnished with two large beds, then turned to He Qun, the only one who seemed halfway sober. "Can you sort them out?" "No problem, leave it to me!" Chen Qi turned and headed to the master bedroom. Faint shouts and clamor drifted from the guest room. With five grown men suddenly staying over, the back courtyard had never held so much yang energy; usually, yin and yang were kept in harmonious balance. After washing up, Chen Qi lay down. Since they were staying the night, it was just as well—tomorrow he could take them to see their dormitories. Located at that arts and crafts factory on Erlong Road, the Eastern Depot occupied seven rooms. At two to a room, they could house fourteen people. *I really am a philanthropist!* *With hiring terms like these, even graduates from Tsinghua and Peking University decades from now would fight tooth and nail for a spot.* *Lao Mou also wants to transfer his wife here. I've never seen her; she's always kept a low profile. Wait... what about Empress Gong, then?* Chen Qi let his mind wander as he lay in bed, suddenly thinking of Gong Li. There was no telling what Zhang Yimou would shoot at the Eastern Depot, so whether he would ever cross paths with Gong Li was entirely up in the air. Chen Qi smiled to himself. Had any showbiz web novel ever made Gong Li the female lead? By crossing over to this era, the slight flutter of his wings might trigger a chain reaction, altering the destinies of countless people. For now, whether the Ministry of Culture reached a verdict or not, he had to push ahead with preparations. *Life Is Beautiful* would require multiple camera setups. Zhang Yimou could be given a cinematographer post, He Qun could serve as one of the art directors, and Zhang Junzhao and He Ping could run errands as assistant directors—there was room to fit them all in. The director, ironically, was the easy part. A film like this was something no one in the country would know how to shoot anyway. All Chen Qi needed was a veteran, someone respected who could handle on-set coordination while remaining completely obedient—a glorified tool to hold the director's title while Chen Qi served as executive producer. That was right: Li Wenhua! Old Li could now be considered one of his own. That would leave the director's chair for *Tai Chi 3* open, and Chen Qi wanted Tsui Hark to take it over. Tsui Hark had been drooling at the prospect of directing a wuxia picture for a while now. Next came casting the male lead. The actor for this role needed to make heavy moments feel light and effortless, with an abundance of natural charm and a masterful command of comedy. That was no easy find! A few names drifted through Chen Qi's mind, and as he pondered them, he drifted off to sleep. *** The following morning, the group went together to inspect the dormitories. There was nothing to complain about; everyone was thoroughly satisfied. As long as they could stay in Beijing, they would have gladly taken eight-person bunk rooms, let alone a two-person suite. That left a room just for Lao Mou and his wife. In this era, a spouse was no small matter. Job transfers for family members had caused untold numbers of partings, reconciliations, and bitter resentments. After a single night, the four men were completely devoted. They addressed Chen Qi as "Teacher Chen." Factory Director? He wasn't technically one. General Manager Chen sounded awkward, and Boss Chen was even worse. Chen Qi had taken the initiative to suggest they call him Teacher Chen. Present-day leaders were almost all cast in the mold of Wang Yang—wearing cadres' jackets, exuding a rustic aura, smiling warmly yet radiating undeniable authority. None of them had ever encountered a twenty-two-year-old leader. In the eyes of the four recruits, Teacher Chen was a refined man. His attire was meticulously kept; he wore an imported Swiss watch, donned leather shoes, and lived in a mansion—yes, a mansion. Just looking at the luxury goods inside his residence, such as foreign liquor and foreign cigarettes, gave him the unmistakable air of a capitalist roader. A few years earlier, someone like that would have been dragged out and struck down. Following such a man made them feel a little uneasy inside, but he offered far too much to refuse. They had no choice but to work themselves to the bone for him. *** Beijing Film Academy. Thirty-year-old Chen Kaige strolled across campus with his hands shoved into his trouser pockets. Tall, striking, and in the prime of his looks, his face was nonetheless clouded with gloom. Like Zhang Yimou, he was married at this time, though his wife's identity was shrouded in mystery, with conflicting accounts scattered across the future internet. Later, they would divorce, and only then would he become acquainted with Hong Huang, Ni Ping, Chen Hong, Christopher Doyle, and the rest. By this point, the assignments for this batch of graduates were virtually finalized. He had fared worse even than Li Shaohong. Li Shaohong had been assigned to the Beijing Film Studio, whereas he hadn't made the cut and could only go to the Children's Film Studio. What was there to do at the Children's Film Studio? Make children's movies? What a monstrous waste of talent! *At least I managed to stay in Beijing instead of being banished to the frontier...* Chen Kaige sighed, consoling himself. At the very least, wasn't it better than being shipped off to Guangxi like those other poor bastards? "Kaige!" As he was wandering, Zhang Yimou and two others returned in high spirits, calling out to him from a distance. Chen Kaige forced a faint smile onto his face—after all, they were classmates. "Where have you three been so early in the morning?" "Not early this morning—we headed out last night!" "We went to Lechunfang!" "That Eastern Culture & Art Company, the one that earns foreign exchange through exports! Old Tian put in a good word for us, and they've decided to take us on!" "They even promised I can direct my own film within a year!" *Stab, stab, stab!* It felt as though several daggers had been plunged into the great director's chest all at once, drawing rivers of blood. He stared in utter disbelief. "You... all of you get to stay in Beijing?" "That's right! Be happy for us! We can all stay together from now on without being split up!" Perhaps the alcohol hadn't entirely worn off, for the three hopped onto their bicycles and shot across campus, belting out songs as they rode, letting their elation loose to the wind. "..." Chen Kaige watched them go. Shock mingled with a surge of indignation. *What did they do to deserve this? Where did they get such dumb luck? In terms of talent, which one of them can hold a candle to me?* Because of their uncle-nephew lineage relationship, he knew the situation over on Chen Qi's end: an empty shell desperately in need of talent. Going there truly meant shooting films right away, which was far better than languishing at the Children's Film Studio. *Should I consider it too?* The moment the thought crossed his mind, he shook his head vigorously. He couldn't stand that fellow anyway. If they worked together, damn it, wouldn't he be stuck getting called "nephew" every single day?