Ah Qi and Ah Guai

"Young friends, let's meet together, Sent off to the crematorium, all burnt to ashes, A pile for you, a pile for me, nobody knows who's who, All hauled to the countryside to make fertilizer..." After the New Year, humming a youthfully exuberant parody, Chen Qi returned to his loyal Beijing Film Studio. He pedaled up to the front gate, executed a slick fishtail stop on his bicycle, and called into the guardhouse, "Uncle? Uncle!" "How come you're back again, kid?" "Still have to stay a while longer. Sorry to trouble you!" Chen Qi slipped in a pack of Daqianmen cigarettes, waved, and strolled off. The old man curled his lip in quiet satisfaction. This kid wasn't bad; he knew how to show respect to his elders. As the old saying went, even the gatekeeper of a prime minister ranks as a seventh-grade official. He was the gatekeeper of Beijing Film Studio, yet those privileged studio brats never showed him any respect. Speaking of which, Lunar New Year's Eve fell on the fifteenth of next month, so those film brats over at the Film Academy would soon be on winter break too. Chen Qi arrived at the guesthouse; Room 302 was safe and sound. He fetched a kettle of hot water, brewed some broken tea leaves in an enamel mug, pulled a chair right up to the radiator, kicked off his cotton shoes, and rested his feet against the heating pipes. Before long, warmth seeped through his socks, and his entire body thawed out. Cradling the large mug to sip his tea, he flipped through an advance copy of the latest issue of *Story Session*, rocking contentedly back and forth. Ah! This guesthouse really was as cozy as home. The September and November issues of *Story Session* had published *The Cotton Kasaya*, and the January issue featured the first half of *Invincible Dual Kicks*. As he browsed through, he spotted a brief column article: "Since restoring the title *Story Session* early last year, our magazine has received ever-growing support from our dear readers, achieving gratifying results. With the arrival of the New Year, this publication will host a modest New Year's Tea Gathering, inviting our author and reader friends to gather and celebrate together..." Tch! Chen Qi had indeed been invited to this tea gathering, but where would he find that kind of bourgeois leisure? He had naturally declined. Yet *Story Session* had printed it boldly in their pages, every line practically bursting with pride over growing bigger and stronger. "Looks like sales are booming!" Rubbing his chin, his itch to launch a magazine grew even stronger. By launching a magazine, he meant finding an official institution to affiliate with—not running a private enterprise, which was strictly forbidden anyway. The early 1980s were precisely the golden window for starting magazines, when bureaucratic approvals were still relatively painless. "Maybe affiliate it under Beijing Film Studio?" While he was turning the thought over in his mind, he heard someone shouting his name downstairs. Pushing open the window, he saw a fellow craning his neck and yelling, "Someone's looking for you at the gate! At the front gate!" "Got it, thanks!" Chen Qi slipped on his cotton shoes, bundled himself into his padded coat, and sauntered downstairs. He assumed it was Huang Zhanying, but when he reached the gate, an unexpected figure greeted him. "Old He?" "Little Chen, I finally found you! Since parting at Mount Lu, each day has felt like three long autumns!" The visitor was none other than He Chengwei, the editor from *Story Session*. Covered in travel dust and shivering from head to toe, he was hauling a massive bag. "Come in, come in!" Chen Qi hauled him into the courtyard and called to the guardhouse, "Uncle, this is my friend, here to visit me!" "Mm!" The cigarette buff working its magic, the old man merely grunted in approval. "Your security is really tight. Wouldn't let me in no matter what I said." "Nonsense, this is Beijing Film Studio. Can just anyone stroll into your Shanghai Film Studio? What brought you all the way to Beijing? A business trip?" "I came specially to see you!" Chatting as they walked, they reached the guesthouse. Inside the room, He Chengwei smiled and said, "You're an important man with a packed schedule and couldn't make it to our tea gathering, so the editorial office dispatched me to pay our regards. Isn't Spring Festival coming up next month? I brought you some local specialties. Don't look down on them!" He unzipped the big bag and began pulling out parcel after parcel. "Here's White Rabbit creamy candy!" "Here are Old Town God Temple spiced beans!" "Here's tiaotou gao—ah, it's gotten completely squished out of shape." "This one's great, it's called Chongming cake..." He Chengwei presented a box of pastries like a treasured tribute. "It comes in sponge cake and firm cake. The sponge cake is eaten cold, but the firm cake needs to be steamed." "You're far too polite, traveling a thousand miles just to bring me treats." Chen Qi felt a brief pang of gratitude, but it vanished like smoke a second later. Hmph! Nothing more than tactics to butter him up so he'd keep churning out copy for *Story Session*. Even Qidian handed out gift packages to its authors! He brewed a mug of tea for He Chengwei to warm him up, then asked, "Got a place to stay yet? If not, you can squeeze in here with me." "I do, I do! Luckily I asked around before coming. Everyone said lodging in the capital is impossible to find and inns are practically nonexistent. The editor-in-chief put me in touch with a friend, so I'm staying at his place. I'll be heading back the day after tomorrow." "Not much to do in the winter, but you could visit the Forbidden City and the Great Wall." "Mm. To tell the truth, we've always wanted to invite you to Shanghai to treat you properly, but you're just too busy." "I really don't have the time. I've got another new screenplay on my hands..." Chen Qi paused, then grinned. "Chalk it up to my vanity, but haven't any film studios inquired about *The Cotton Kasaya* or *Invincible Dual Kicks*? An adaptation or something?" "Uh..." He Chengwei ran through possible replies in his head before decisively shouldering the blame himself. "It might be because *Story Session* doesn't have a wide enough circulation and our reach is limited. Your stories are so brilliant that, given time, they're bound to make it to the big screen." Heh-heh, a real smooth talker! Chen Qi suspected it was simply because martial arts films hadn't caught on yet, so studios were hesitant to touch them. Once *Tai Chi* hit theaters, everything would change. After chatting for a bit, he brought out the second half of *Invincible Dual Kicks* and said, "I've been working on a new screenplay, so this part was completed in collaboration with a friend. Since you're here, take a look first." "A collaboration..." He Chengwei felt his heart skip a beat. Taking the manuscript, he read it carefully. A few pages in, his worries eased somewhat. He flipped to the end, and only after finishing did he let out a long breath of relief. He didn't care about collaborations; that was the author's business. All he cared about was quality. This 'ghostwriter' had solid chops and had captured the oral-storytelling flavor remarkably well. That was plenty. "How should we credit the byline?" "His pen name is Ah Guai. We're a duo: 'Ah Qi and Ah Guai.' From now on, whenever both names appear, it's a joint effort." "..." The corner of He Chengwei's mouth twitched. Well, fair enough. He stayed for half the day. Chen Qi treated him to a meal, after which He Chengwei headed off to his friend's house. Chen Qi paced around the room, eyeing the pile of goodies. Suddenly, he picked out a bit of everything and packed them into a satchel. He scribbled a note across a sheet of manuscript paper, tucked it inside as well, slung the bag over his shoulder, and headed out the door. *** Back then, everything beyond the Second Ring Road was countryside. Beijing Film Studio stood on the North Third Ring Road, surrounded by farmland and pigsties. Heading west, near North West Third Ring Road Jia, lay a small theater connected to a large compound—the home of the General Political Department Drama Troupe. The small theater was where they rehearsed; later it would be renovated and renamed Bayi Theater. Gong Xue had just finished lunch and was resting with the others. Ever since her return, she had immediately been thrown back into rehearsals in her former role—a medic with negligible stage time. Stepping down from being the leading lady of *Romance on Mount Lu* back to an ordinary medic naturally left an emotional dip. "Gong Xue, someone's at the gate looking for you!" "Coming!" *Who's looking for me?* Puzzled, she stepped out of the rehearsal hall. When she reached the gate and caught sight of that familiar figure, her heart leaped into a fluster for reasons she couldn't explain. "Little Chen, what brought you here?" "Got a little something to discuss with you." Chen Qi opened the bag with a grin. "An editor from *Story Session* came to visit me today and brought a bunch of Shanghai specialties. I remembered you're from Shanghai, so I brought some over for you." "No, no, they brought those for you. It wouldn't be right for you to give them to me." Gong Xue waved her hands frantically. "I carried them all the way here. You wouldn't make me haul them all the way back, would you? Besides, there's a favor I need to ask of you." Drawing out the sheet of manuscript paper, he said, "You know how to draw, right? Could you sketch a few illustrations for me? I wrote down some descriptions—take a look first and see if it's doable."