Four Golden Flowers Would Be Fine Too

The training course for Tai Chi was progressing in an orderly fashion. As everyone grew more familiar with one another, boundaries of seniority blurred. They were all martial artists, after all, and none yielded easily to another. Publicly and in private, they had engaged in countless sparring matches. Ji Chunhua had been the first to start things. He loved provoking Yu Hai, until Yu Hai finally gave him a sound thrashing, pounding him black and blue with fingers thick as small radishes. Afterward, Yu Hai felt quite guilty, but Chen Qi consoled him: "If he provoked you, it means he was asking for a beating. Beating him gave him what he wanted, so now both of your minds are clear." Li Lianjie and Yu Chenghui had a bout as well. It took place behind closed doors, and neither revealed the outcome, but Li Lianjie became noticeably better behaved. Although he was a national champion, there were at least two men in this cast who could beat him to death. Chen Qi's classes were very effective. Without the time for the actors to delve deeply into their characters, he simply provided templates for them to fit into, designing a set of movements and expressions for each of them. For instance, Liu Xun played Prince Rong, so Chen Qi told him that mastering just two expressions would be enough: one was a benevolent, kindly smile, and the other was an amused, mischievous chuckle like an old child. As for Yu Chenghui playing Prince Duan, Chen Qi gave him two iron baoding balls to roll in his hand. Rolling the iron balls in his right hand, keeping his left hand behind his back, holding his chin high—that was the template. It was a shortcut, but it was also practical experience that could serve as a useful reference when they joined other film crews in the future. *** One morning, the soundstage had effectively become everyone's home base. Li Wenhua brought in makeup artists and stylists to prepare for costume fittings, and the very first step was shaving heads. The men paired off in twos, taking clippers to shave each other's heads. Since it was just a bald shave anyway, clean was all that mattered. Yu Chenghui didn't need to shave; the front half of his head was naturally bald already, while the hair on the back half was long, which was perfect for braiding into a queue. "Good grief, over a dozen bald heads! Whatever you do, don't step outside, or the police will arrest you on the spot!" "And definitely don't go out in a group. They'll think it's a mass prison break, and even the military will get called in!" "Haha! That'd be great—our crew would be famous!" Everyone chatted and laughed as they changed into their costumes and had photos taken. Chen Qi stood on the other side, personally overseeing Gong Xue's styling. In history, she had appeared in two costume period films, Zhang Heng and Hua Tuo and Cao Cao, and her historical look had been passable, but late Qing was definitely another story. Look at actual photographs from the late Qing dynasty—the women's attire and hairstyles were hideous beyond belief. "We're making a martial arts film, so there's no need to be that meticulous." "Let's pick out a couple of short jackets!" Rummaging through the piles of costumes, he picked out one pink jacket and one sky-blue jacket, paired with trousers for one look and a skirt for the other, and naturally embroidered shoes and white socks for her feet. "No, no, no, definitely don't coil her hair up! Just plait two small braids!" "But that's not historically accurate, is it?" The stylist was bewildered; in this era, filmmaking placed heavy emphasis on historical accuracy. "People of the rivers and lakes don't fuss over minor formalities. And her bangs—can you style them into see-through bangs?" "What on earth are 'see-through bangs'?" "Uh..." Chen Qi did his best to describe them in detail. The stylist grumbled under his breath while working, then applied light makeup—the kind reminiscent of a fresh lotus emerging from clear water. Paired with the sky-blue jacket, once she stood up... Whoa! Everyone's eyes lit up. Li Lianjie bounded over eagerly, grinning. "Sister Xue, you're so pretty!" "Your look isn't bad either!" Gong Xue looked him over. Once the seventeen-year-old Li Lianjie changed into period costume, he looked quite dashing and handsome. Everyone liked a gentle older sister. Li Lianjie wanted to say more, but Huang Qiuyan called him away. Gong Xue pursed her lips and said, "That kid is quite endearing. If I had a younger brother, I'd want him to be just like that. But in the film, our characters have that kind of relationship... It feels rather awkward." "Why awkward?" "He's far too young for me." "How many years younger would not feel awkward... Hey, where are you going?" Gong Xue swung her sleeves and walked away. Because film stock was precious, Chen Qi regretted that he couldn't record the crew's daily moments on video. Instead, he had to rely on a camera, taking snapshots of everyone whenever he had free time. With the fitting finished, he called out, "Don't take them off yet! Let's take a big group photo!" "Let's shoot outside! The light's great today!" So everyone ran out to the soundstage entrance in their period costumes. Chen Qi joined them as well, having the stylist snap several photos. All this commotion drew glances from passing studio staff—some curious, some indifferent, and naturally, some annoyed. "Taking a group photo?" "Yes! Director Huang, where are you heading?" "Oh, I've got some business in the main building!" Huang Jianzhong happened to be passing by and greeted them with a smile. *** He reached the main building and entered Deputy Studio Head Zhu Dexiong's office. "The script has been approved. You're a veteran employee with plenty of experience, so after careful consideration, the studio leadership has decided to entrust it to you to direct." "Thank you to the leadership team for your confidence in me! I definitely won't disappoint your expectations!" Huang Jianzhong was overjoyed. He was thirty-nine years old this year and had spent twenty years at Beijing Film Studio, gradually working his way up from a script supervisor. Recently, the Literary Department had scouted a subject—Liu Xinwu's unpublished novella Ruyi—adapted it into a screenplay, and intended to assign it to him to direct. This would be his very first time directing independently. From now on, when speaking to outsiders, he would truly be a proper director in his own right. "The production schedule for the first three quarters is fully booked. Once the funding for the fourth quarter comes in, you can get started." "No problem at all, no problem!" Huang Jianzhong hesitated a moment, then asked, "Roughly what kind of budget will be allocated?" "What, do you want 1.08 million too?" Zhu Dexiong chuckled. "Ever since the new policy came out, studios across the country have gone crazy. Every director starting a new picture wants that 1.08 million, but the studio naturally has its own considerations." "Then on what grounds does Tai Chi get that kind of money?" Presuming on his status as a veteran employee, Huang Jianzhong pushed back and asked. "Tai Chi is a martial arts film with entertainment value, so there's a higher chance of selling more prints. Ruyi belongs to Scar Literature—the two are fundamentally different in nature. Besides, the current budget for Tai Chi is seven hundred thousand. Who told you it was 1.08 million? They applied for supplemental funding, but the studio hasn't approved it yet, nor is approval guaranteed." Zhu Dexiong explained, but Huang Jianzhong didn't buy it. Even so, he didn't argue further, rising and taking his leave. Once out the door and several paces away, he bumped into a close colleague, who asked, "How did it go? Is it settled? Are you directing it?" "They're having me direct it, but the budget will probably be tight. It might not even reach seven hundred thousand—can't compare to Tai Chi." "Fuck, don't even mention Tai Chi to me. Just watching them parade around every day makes my blood boil!" "Plenty of people in the studio are sick of them! And that kid named Chen—I heard he's even lecturing the cast. I have no idea what the old studio head was thinking, taking such a fancy to a wet-behind-the-ears punk." *** Wang Yang had no idea people were muttering behind his back. Right now, he was filled with anticipation. Inside the auditorium of Beijing Film Studio, several studio leaders along with Wang Haowei were present. The screen was hung and ready for the screening of Romance on Mount Lu. Indeed, post-production on Romance on Mount Lu had concluded. According to official procedures, the studio would conduct its internal review first, followed by submission to the Film Bureau for review, and if necessary, propaganda or cultural departments could review it as well. "Studio Head, shall we begin?" "Let's begin!" The lights dimmed, and the screen lit up. The story opened five years later, with Zhou Yun riding in a car as she arrived once more at Mount Lu Hotel, reminiscing about everything between her and Geng Hua, which unfolded into the narrative. "..." Wang Yang watched with rapt attention, occasionally voicing praise. When the screening ended, he was the first to applaud. "Wonderful! It's a fine film. What do you all think?" "Could some of the content in it be too sensitive?" "We already knew it was sensitive when we greenlit the project. Now that it's filmed, there's no need to harp on that. I think it's very good." Wang Yang showed strong support, then added, "That young actress was quite good. Can we transfer her into our studio?" "Cherishing talent again, are you?" "Haha! We have Three Golden Flowers in our studio, so making it four wouldn't hurt either! Haowei, I'll leave this matter to you." "Alright, I'll talk to Gong Xue first!" Wang Haowei had already been leaning that way herself, so she nodded with delight.