At the Beijing Film Studio public bathhouse, rows of crude lockers stood shrouded in billowing steam. Still fully dressed, Chen Qi broke into a clammy sweat within half a minute. He stripped off his shirt, stuffed it into a locker, and asked casually, "Where are you guys planning to go tomorrow?"
"The Forbidden City, the Great Wall, the Summer Palace. Brother Yu knows the city well, so he's taking us."
Ji Chunhua stood across from him, also peeling off his clothes for a bath. In a few quick moves, he stripped bare, showing off a physique packed with lean muscle. His skin was dark, and his torso was darker still, a pendulum swinging between his legs.
Men were men, after all—whenever they met in the raw, their competitive streak flared right up.
Ji Chunhua had always taken great pride in his capital. He deliberately edged closer, eager to show off, and asked, "Brother Qi, are you heading home tomorrow?"
"Yeah. My family's over by Qianmen. You know Qianmen?" Chen Qi replied while unbuttoning his trousers.
"Don't know it. Which direction is it?"
"Two or three kilometers south of Tiananmen. If you get a chance, you guys should drop by."
Chen Qi pulled off his underwear, his back turned to him.
"Sounds great! I'll definitely go!"
Seeing that he still hadn't turned around, Ji Chunhua grew a bit impatient and asked, "Brother Qi, do you think that Hong Kong martial arts director is really that big of a... big... *hiss—!*"
He sucked in a sharp, staggering breath, his eyes glued dead onto a certain spot.
"What's wrong?" Chen Qi had already turned around.
"Nothing, nothing! I'm heading in first!"
Thoroughly defeated, Ji Chunhua slunk inside with his head hanging low. Chen Qi shrugged. Just as he finished tidying his locker, Li Lianjie rounded the corner. "You're taking forever. Why aren't you undressed yet... *hiss!*"
He, too, sucked in a sharp breath.
As a man destined to be drained for twenty years by a stunning beauty like Nina Li Chi, he had plenty of reasons to be confident, yet at this moment even he felt utterly outmatched.
Chen Qi grabbed his bath towel and scrubbing mitt and headed inside. Along the way, he ran into Wang Qun, Sun Jiankui, Xiong Xinxin, and the others, flattening everyone in his path. Even the senior masters Yu Hai and Yu Chenghui could only sigh upon catching a glimpse, marveling at how formidable the younger generation had become.
*Hah! What do they know.*
*This is what you call God-given talent!*
Looking down on this bunch of virgins, Chen Qi strolled over to the shower with total composure.
The training workshop had concluded, tomorrow was a day off, and today happened to have hot water. He had simply bought a dozen bath tickets to treat everyone. Soaking together was, after all, a fine way for men to bond.
Some showered, some scrubbed. Life was austere back then, so people weren't fussy; southern fellows like Ji Chunhua and Xiong Xinxin were equally open and unreserved. Eventually, everyone ended up soaking in the pool.
A dozen or so young men formed a full circle, an entire pool of martial prodigies, keeping bystanders from daring to step within three feet.
After spending so much time together, they had all made new friends and were chatting in small clusters. Having soaked for a while, Chen Qi suddenly said, "Xiao Li, are you heading home tomorrow?"
"Yeah, going back to see my mother!" Li Lianjie replied.
"I need to handle some business at the bank tomorrow. Could you spare some time to come with me? You're good with your fists."
"You want me to be your bodyguard? I don't come cheap! Back when I toured the States with the delegation and performed for Nixon, he wanted to hire me as his bodyguard. Want to guess what I told him?"
"You said you wanted to grow up to defend the motherland!"
"How did you know that?" Li Lianjie's eyes widened instantly.
"Cut the chatter. Are you coming or not?"
"Well, since you're begging me, a brother has to show loyalty. I'll go with you!"
Li Lianjie called him a brother, but in truth he didn't take it too seriously. He recognized that Chen Qi had real skill—he taught well and understood acting—but Li Lianjie was a national champion who had toured America; he wasn't about to bow down in reverence just like that.
Next, Chen Qi rounded up Wang Qun, Ge Chunyan, and Huang Qiuyan, the three Beijing natives. Confused as they were, they agreed as well.
...
The next day arrived.
Chen Qi led the four of them in grand fashion toward the bank, inexplicably carrying a large cloth sack along with him.
Li Lianjie teased, "What are you taking that sack to the bank for? What are you going to put in it?"
"It's a bank—money, obviously!" Huang Qiuyan laughed.
"Whoa, how much money would you need to fill a sack that big?"
The two bantered back and forth. Chen Qi ignored them and asked Ge Chunyan, who was a year older than him, "Sister Chunyan, can your Baguazhang kill a person?"
"Huh?" Ge Chunyan looked at him as though pitying a fool. "It could, but why on earth would I kill someone for no reason?"
"Just in case. If something happens, you've got to protect me. I'm counting entirely on you!"
"Hey, what's that supposed to mean? The three of us can't fight?"
"Did you bring us along just to make up the numbers?"
Bickering and joking all the way, they arrived at the bank. Chen Qi pulled out a withdrawal slip and proof of identification he had received the day before, walked up to the counter window, and said, "Hello, comrade. I'd like to withdraw some money!"
"Please wait a moment!"
The clerk glanced at the document and froze on the spot. He rubbed his eyes, looked again, and then turned to Chen Qi in utter disbelief.
"I've been here once before to collect an author's remuneration. It was ten thousand Hong Kong dollars last time. Do you remember?"
"Ten thousand Hong Kong dollars..."
Such a sum was extraordinarily rare, and the clerk recalled it immediately. "Oh, oh! It was you! Hold on, I'll fetch the director!"
Before long, the director from his previous visit hurried over, smiling warmly. "Comrade Xiao Chen, you truly are full of surprises! Shall we speak inside?"
"It's not going to be another background check, is it?"
"We still have to follow the necessary procedures, but it certainly won't be like last time. Just a quick chat."
"Wait for me a moment, guys," Chen Qi told the others over his shoulder, then followed the director into a small office.
The group outside was stunned. *What did I just hear? Ten thousand Hong Kong dollars?! He brought that sack... he's not actually going to fill it with money, is he?* Li Lianjie received a five-hundred-yuan subsidy whenever he went abroad, but he had never laid hands on such a staggering sum either, and stood there equally dumbfounded.
Inside the room, Chen Qi took a seat on a soft leather sofa.
The director examined the paperwork twice. This time, the remitter wasn't Great Wall, but a company called Peace Film Production. He smiled and asked, "Still an author's fee?"
"Yes!"
"Hong Kong pays screenwriters that much?"
"That's actually on the low end. A popular star over there can earn hundreds of thousands for a single film. How much does a screenwriter get?"
"Well, they have a capitalist society and an advanced economy, so this is still remarkable. If you don't mind my asking, this Peace Film Production... does it have any, well, shady background?"
"It's just an ordinary film company. Great Wall helped me find them. You're not thinking of asking Great Wall to verify it, are you?"
"No, no, of course not!"
The man chuckled, his thoughts hidden. After a few more questions, he sighed, "I really have to believe that geniuses exist in this world. At such a young age... oh my, this, this..."
He pinched the slip, where the amount was stated in plain black and white: thirty thousand Hong Kong dollars!
The going rate for a script in Hong Kong was ten to thirty thousand, and hiring a renowned master only cost fifty thousand. Yuen Woo-ping offering thirty thousand was already very generous.
"All right, we'll process the exchange for you right away!"
"Are there overseas remittance certificates this time?"
"Haha, yes, plenty!"
The exchange was calculated based on the day's posted rate, coming out to roughly ten thousand RMB. In those days, there were no hundred-yuan banknotes; ten-yuan bills were stacked neatly in thick bundles, instantly catching everyone's eyes.
One should never assume the 1980s were full of innocent saints. Things were quite chaotic back then, which was precisely why the 1983 severe crackdown would eventually happen.
Next came the overseas remittance certificates. Each sheet was a large sheet with the denomination printed in the center and perforated coupons all around the edges labeled "Subsidiary Food Coupon," "Shopping Coupon," and the like, forming another thick stack.
Chen Qi kept one thousand yuan in cash and deposited the rest into an account. He swept the cash and the remittance certificates into his sack, waved a hand, and called out, "Let's go!"
Chapter 93