The Tai Chi Training Class

Late at night, in Room 302. Chen Qi counted through a small stack of bills twice before spreading them across the table in front of Liang Xiaosheng like a wealthy capitalist. "The manuscript fee for the second half of Invincible Dual Kicks came out to one hundred and seventy-five yuan. We agreed on a fifty-fifty split, and to round it off for good luck, here's eighty-eight for you!" "Th-that's eighty-eight yuan already?" Liang Xiaosheng was astonished and a little bashful. Chen Qi stuffed the money directly into his pocket and grinned. "Take it. Even real brothers keep clear accounts—you earned every cent!" "Ah, who knew writing popular fiction could make this kind of money!" Liang Xiaosheng sighed with feeling, then immediately shook his head. "No, no—only your popular fiction brings in this kind of money. I heard the circulation of Story Session has already surpassed four hundred thousand copies, which is why they were willing to pay the top-tier manuscript rate." It had taken Liang Xiaosheng roughly twenty days to write the piece. He hadn't needed to strain his brain much—mostly it was just tiring on the hands—yet it had yielded two full months' salary. Meanwhile, when he wrote serious literature, he racked his brains and produced at most one piece a year, earning two or three hundred yuan at best. The return on effort simply wasn't comparable. "You know I've been swamped lately, but I took some time to draft another outline and character roster. If you don't mind, let's collaborate on another one." "Not at all, not at all!" Liang Xiaosheng took the papers and glanced down. The title was Wudang. Surprisingly, it featured a female protagonist. Set in the late Qing dynasty, Japanese martial artists set up a challenge stage. The heroine's father stepped up to fight and was killed by foul play. After enduring countless trials and tribulations, the heroine mastered the supreme techniques of Wudang, struck down the Japanese invaders, and avenged her father. In the 1980s, after The Shaolin Temple ignited a martial arts film craze, a wave of similar films emerged. Wudang was one of them, produced by Changchun Film Studio. It had performed exceptionally well at the box office back then, but its cultural footprint was rather modest, and hardly anyone in later generations ever mentioned it. To rake in manuscript fees, Chen Qi intended to fleece all these martial arts movies for material until he launched his own magazine. Once the martial arts craze truly arrived, he could wholesale screenplays to film studios across the entire country and fleece them for another tidy profit. This was called cooking one fish two ways. "Old Liang, now that you've got extra income, don't send every penny back home. Save a little toward finding a wife." "A wife fund? I'm already thirty-one. Do you really think I can still land a wife?" Liang Xiaosheng walked off, sighing with resignation. A man in this life would never stop thinking about women at any stage of his existence—unless his portrait was hanging on the wall. That went double for an old bachelor like him; the older they got, the more restless their hearts grew. In certain rural areas, there were even documented cases of old bachelors eventually moving in together. Chen Qi chuckled. He recalled that Liang Xiaosheng did end up married with a child, and his wife was both virtuous and beautiful. His best days were still ahead of him. Shortly after Liang Xiaosheng left, Li Wenhua walked in, sighing just as heavily. "None of the studio's actors are willing to teach. They either claim they have no time, say they lack the ability, or simply don't want to come. A tall tree really does catch the wind." "What about hiring an instructor from the Beijing Film Academy?" "That's expensive, not to mention a hassle. We need to save wherever we can." "Why don't I give it a shot? I've read a few miscellaneous books and know a thing or two about acting." "You?" Li Wenhua eyed him skeptically before sighing in defeat. "All right, let's try it for a day. If it doesn't work out, I'll find someone else." "Then let's split the work. You take the morning half, I'll take the afternoon half, and I'll prepare my lesson tonight." ………… The next morning. As usual, the Beijing Film Studio's grand cafeteria was the liveliest spot around. Production crews and young bachelors flocked there day in and day out, happily devouring their meals amid a constant buzz of chatter. Naturally, the topic of conversation was the film industry reforms. Under the newly introduced policy, a film's budget could reach as high as 1.08 million yuan. What director would complain about having too much money? Everyone was scrambling to submit applications. Creak! As the heavy doors were pushed open, the noise inside abruptly subsided, quickly followed by dead silence. Countless pairs of eyes fixed on the entrance, as if beholding some unbelievable spectacle. Chen Qi and Li Wenhua walked in the center, flanked by Yu Hai, Yu Chenghui, Wang Qun, and Li Lianjie fanned out in a wild-goose formation. Behind them followed Sun Jiankui, Hu Jianqiang, and the rest, along with an imposing, burly fellow from Inner Mongolia standing tall among them. Their eyes gleamed sharp and fierce, radiating an intimidating aura. Ruffians, hooligans, shady peddlers, petty thieves—every bizarre archetype cultivated over thousands of years seemed gathered right there. "..." The onlookers stared blankly as the group strode in and lined up for food, unable to keep from whispering again. "Is this the Tai Chi crew? What kind of motley crew is this?" "Look at that bearded guy—half his head has no hair! Does he think he's an ancient knight-errant?" "Oof, look at that little lump of charcoal. Did he just crawl out of a coal pit?" Then, all at once, everyone fell silent once more—because Ji Chunhua came jogging in. What a sight he was: completely bald, devoid of eyebrows, with fierce triangular eyes that looked like they could kill anyone he glared at, protruding brow ridges, and a face covered in scarred, menacing flesh. Compared to him, everyone ahead of him looked like normal human beings. "Xiao Ji, why are you so late?" "Got a bit lost. Sorry, sorry!" "Be on time from now on. Don't fall behind." Chen Qi, who was one year older than him, patted Ji Chunhua's bald head. Ji Chunhua split his mouth into a broad grin, chuckling sheepishly. The onlookers were dumbfounded. Holy crap, he actually dared to pat his head! Chen Qi got his meal, glanced around the room until he spotted Gong Xue, and sat down across from her. "You have to attend the training too. Even though you're considered a seasoned actor in the crew, you still need to participate in group activities." "I never said I wouldn't go. Are you lecturing today?" "In the afternoon." "Then I'll definitely listen closely. I enjoy hearing you talk about acting the most." Ever since Gong Xue landed the female lead, her attitude toward him had grown noticeably warmer. Not that she was mercenary—after all, who didn't pursue their own interests? It was simply that pursuing a woman required some investment, and it took skill. Investing just the right amount made one a master. Spending money while marking the bank transfer 'voluntary gift' made one a hopeless simp—the kind of Boiling Sheep who, listening over the phone while his goddess was being plowed, would only feel heartbroken and plead with the other guy to be gentle... ………… A temporarily vacant soundstage served as their classroom. Li Wenhua certainly knew his craft. He deliberately had a camera brought in and positioned beside everyone, its dark lens aimed right at them. It wasn't turned on; it was there just to help them get used to it. The very first flaw of non-professional actors was their inability to stop glancing at the lens. He set up a small blackboard and explained blocking, lighting principles, specific shooting procedures, and the like. Li Lianjie even took notes in a small booklet, looking every bit the diligent, eager student. In the blink of an eye, afternoon arrived—time for Chen Qi's class. Li Wenhua sat below, and Zhang Xinyan had made a special point to show up as well, eager to see whether the kid was full of hot air. "First, let me give a formal self-introduction..." Chen Qi stood at the front with a calm, composed demeanor, radiating an immense self-assurance that welled up from deep within. "I am the screenwriter of Tai Chi, as well as its creative planner. What does creative planner mean? It means I can poke my nose into just about anything. "I'm here to give you an acting lesson, with the goal of helping you grasp the most fundamental techniques in the shortest possible time." As soon as he spoke, skeptical glances flew his way from the audience. Most of them didn't know much about this young man, only seeing him bustling about and turning up everywhere. And now he was teaching an acting class? He was only around twenty, yet here he was acting as their teacher? The older members were more guarded, keeping their doubts hidden beneath the surface. Li Lianjie, however, was never afraid to speak his mind and blurted out on the spot, "Teacher Chen, have you ever acted before?" "Nope!" "Then how are you going to teach us? What if you fail to teach us anything?" "Then I'll need your cooperation. Come, come—get up here..." Chen Qi beckoned him forward. Li Lianjie wasn't intimidated in the slightest; straightening his clothes, he strode up enthusiastically.