Story Session

*Knock, knock, knock!* Standing outside the upstairs room, he rapped three times on the door. The noise inside abruptly cut off. A moment later, the door creaked open with a squeak, revealing a pretty, makeup-free face. "Comrade Xiao Chen!" Gong Xue was wearing a sleeveless white dress and a pair of white high heels. A faint blush of embarrassment and fluster showed in her eyes, as if she had been caught doing something secret in her room. "Oh? You're staying right above me?" Chen Qi genuinely hadn't known. "Yes. Did you need something?" "I was trying to write something just now, but heard noises upstairs, so I came up to take a look." "Oh! Then I was disturbing you. I'm so sorry!" "No, no, it's fine. I just wanted to ask—what were you up to in there?" "I..." Her pretty face flushed slightly, and she lowered her voice. "I wanted to practice walking in high heels. I've never worn them before." "Ah, you do need practice for those. If you've never worn high heels, putting them on all of a sudden feels like walking on stilts, and it's easy to twist an ankle." "I'm sorry. I won't practice in the room anymore." "It's really nothing. You make it sound like I'm so petty. All right, I'll head back..." Just as Chen Qi turned to leave, a thought struck him, and he asked, "By the way, you're from Shanghai, right? Do you know if there's a magazine in Shanghai called *Story Session*?" "*Story Session*??" Gong Xue thought for a moment. "Do you mean *Revolutionary Story Session*?" "Are they the same thing?" "They should be. I read *Story Session* when I was little, and later it was renamed *Revolutionary Story Session*." "Then do you know how that magazine is doing these days? I mean, do they accept submissions for popular fiction?" "I'm not quite sure. How about I ask around for you? Are you in a hurry?" "Not in a hurry. Thanks in advance!" The two lingered at the doorway chatting for a bit. Chen Qi didn't dare step inside, and Gong Xue certainly wouldn't have invited him in. *At her age and mine, people can spin tales out of nothing. Idle gossip can crush a person, and once rumors start, even diving into the Yellow River wouldn't wash you clean. I've got to watch out for that...* Chen Qi patted his own face, turned, and slipped away. Gong Xue closed the door carefully and took off her shoes with light, cautious steps. Having walked around for only a short while, she had twisted her ankle slightly, and it throbbed with a dull ache. After a moment's thought, she sat down at the desk. With one hand gently massaging her ankle and the other taking up pen and paper, she began writing a letter to her parents. Her family lived in Shanghai, so inquiring about something there would be easy. ... After the Reform and Opening Up began, the atmosphere for artistic and literary creation gradually relaxed. National and provincial literary periodicals resumed publication one after another. Local regions also began launching magazines, and even county-level units got in on the act. From the late 1970s to the early 1980s, a magazine craze swept across the nation. During this period, starting a magazine was easy—any work unit could do it. By 1981, there were 634 literary magazines in the country. Meanwhile, mainstream literary thought remained firmly controlled by major periodicals such as *People's Literature*, *Mengya*, and *Harvest*. They pursued serious literature, demanding ideological depth, strong literary merit, and reflection of the times... There was nothing wrong with that. Yet just like in the music and film industries, as time passed, certain figures naturally began considering themselves the very definition of the mainstream, looking down from on high to categorize newcomers: those who obeyed were accepted into the mainstream, while those who didn't were deemed non-mainstream. That said, having so many magazines of uneven quality made a total mess of the market. First, it severely squeezed the space for mainstream magazines—simply put, their sales dropped. Second, it was a waste of paper. This was no joke; everything was in short supply back then, including paper. Consequently, the authorities first purged a batch of shoddy local magazines, and then in 1984 issued a policy: magazines were to be responsible for their own profits and losses, and government subsidies would cease. To survive, these local magazines turned to popular literature in droves, publishing wuxia, romance, thriller, and mystery stories, which sparked the flourishing of popular literature in the 1980s. Of course, that had not happened yet. Right now, ninety-nine percent of publications were doing serious literature. If there was a one-percent exception, it could only be *Story Session*! *Reader*, *Zhiyin*, *Yilin*, and *Youth Digest*—the "Four Great Classics" of the Reform and Opening Up era—why wasn't *Story Session* among them? Because *Story Session* stood above them all. It set a staggering circulation record of 7.6 million copies for a single issue, reaching the pinnacle of single-issue magazine distribution in the world. Before the year 2000, it sold an average of four million copies per issue. Even today, when many people assumed it was long gone, it still resolutely maintained monthly sales of five to six hundred thousand copies. Chen Qi did not look down on submitting to *Story Session* at all; in fact, he rather liked it. Now, back in his room, the upstairs had quieted down. Sitting at the desk, he continued to sort through his thoughts. He wanted to write a wuxia story, though the word "wuxia" wasn't popular right now; people mostly called it "martial arts." "*A Step into the Past*? *Twin of Brothers*? A bit too raunchy, and with lengths that massive, there's no way in hell I could remember them all!" "Old Devil Han, outcast of the Qingyun Sect? That's immortal cultivation—better wait a few years." "*Ghost Blows Out the Light*? I'd probably be lined up against the wall and shot for five minutes for inciting people to rob graves!" "*The Shaolin Temple*?" The name popped into his head all of a sudden, sending him into deep thought. *The Shaolin Temple* should already be in preparation, so copying the exact story wasn't viable, but he could definitely work with the Shaolin Temple theme. There were plenty of behind-the-scenes stories to *The Shaolin Temple*. Chen Qi couldn't get involved right now, but he would definitely have to find a way in later, because that movie had immense value!! Regardless of what news Gong Xue might find out, he decided to start writing first. Mind made up, he set pen to paper. The rustle of scribbling resonated beneath the lamp. ... "Over here, over here! Move faster!" "Elder sister over there, could you please step aside a bit? You'll be in the shot in a moment!" Three days later, the crew of *Romance on Mount Lu* officially commenced filming. In this era, there were naturally none of the Hong Kong triad-style customs like burning incense or offering roasted pig heads. Feeling awkward just standing around idle, Chen Qi came over to help carry equipment. Mount Lu was home to the renowned White Deer Grotto Academy, where Zhu Xi had once vigorously promoted culture and education. A stream ran beside the academy, rushing with fierce torrents. A large boulder rested amid the water, earning the name Pillow Stream Rock, and across the stream spanned Pillow Stream Bridge. The two characters for "Pillow Stream" had been inscribed by Zhu Xi's own hand. The crew had only a single film camera. While that might seem meager, one had to remember that the Beijing Film Studio produced several movies a year, sometimes shooting simultaneously. Having one camera per production was already quite well-off. *Journey to the West* was the truly meager one—a single video camera carried through all twenty-five episodes. "It's really hot today! Not even the mountains are cool." Having finished moving gear, Chen Qi stood on the bridge wiping his sweat. A crew member chuckled, "There's no tree shade here, of course it's hot." "There are trees over there. I'll go cool off in a bit... Hey, that peak looks interesting." He pointed toward a mountain peak to the north. Its unique contour resembled five old men sitting upon the ground. "Oh, that's Five Old Men Peaks!" "Five Old Men Peaks?" Chen Qi scratched his head. Why did that sound so familiar? After a moment, it hit him. Right! Shiryu's master, Dohko, camped out at the Five Old Men Peaks—a shriveled little old man who could power up and transform into the Libra Gold Saint! Speaking of which, Shiryu was pretty useless, always gouging out his own eyes whenever he fought. Shun was always crying for his brother, Hyoga was always missing his mom, Seiya was Saori's number-one simp, and Ikki was definitely the strongest! "All right, get ready!" "Let's do a run-through first!" Film stock was precious, so they saved it wherever they could. They had to rehearse scenes multiple times until reaching the proper standard before actual shooting. Today's scene depicted the first meeting between the male and female leads. Zhou Yun came to Mount Lu on a trip, standing on the bridge wanting to take a photo of Pillow Stream Rock, only for Geng Hua to intrude into her frame, leading to their first conversation... Tang Guoqiang's portion was filmed first. He wore a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up, army-green trousers, and black cloth shoes. Experienced and composed, he walked over holding a book and sat down on Pillow Stream Rock to read. "Good, that's a wrap for this take!" It passed with ease. Wang Haowei nodded in satisfaction and called out, "Gong Xue, get ready!" Gong Xue visibly tensed up. She wore that light purple floral puffed-sleeve blouse, red bell-bottom trousers, high heels, and a little Western sun hat. Her naturally wavy hair had been given another perm to make the curls more pronounced. It truly proved the old saying: fine clothes make the man. Dressed like this, she undeniably looked fashionable and modern—a Western flair that aligned with the aesthetic tastes of the Chinese people, not the American kind of drug abuse, promiscuity, rock and roll, and biker gangs. "Let's do a run-through!" "Ready: three, two, one!" With her bag slung over her shoulder, Gong Xue held a map, consulting it as she searched for Pillow Stream Rock. She was supposed to walk down the small path, step onto the bridge, and glance at the rock, which would complete the shot. But as she took a few steps in those high heels, Wang Haowei's brow furrowed. Two more steps, and Wang Haowei shouted directly, "Cut! Cut!" "Gong Xue, what are you doing?"