Chapter 15: Love in Lushan

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After Liang Xiaosheng left, Chen Qi stood outside Room 304 next door.

He knocked three times.

Who had decided that knocking on a door had to mean three knocks, anyway?

“Come in!”

The door was unlocked. With a creak, he pushed it open and entered. The layout was more or less the same, but the room was a mess. Manuscript pages covered the bed, and storyboards were plastered all over the walls. A man in his sixties was bent over his desk, writing.

He wore glasses. His hair was graying, his features regular, his bearing dignified.

It made sense. The great director had been handsome and well-built in his youth, and was fond of composing poetry and matching couplets. Good genes had to count for something, or he never would have won over Big Sister Hong, Big Sister Ni, Chen Hong, and Du Kefeng.

“You are?”

Chen Huaikai looked puzzled.

“Good day, Teacher. My name is Chen Qi. I just moved into the room next door today. I’m here to revise a script.”

“Oh, oh! You’re the one writing that romance screenplay, right? Sit, sit!”

Chen Huaikai pulled over a chair, studied him for a moment, and smiled.

“You’re awfully young. How old are you?”

“Nineteen!”

“Young and promising. I was only admitted to college at twenty-one. Your family must be from the city, right?”

“How did you know?”

“Only city people wear red-soled shoes.”

Chen Qi lowered his head and glanced at his black cloth shoes with their red soles, then gave a shy smile.

The shoes were made by Neiliansheng and came with either red or white soles. People colloquially called them “slipper shoes.”

City people wore the red-soled version; those living beyond the Second Ring Road wore white. It was much like the hierarchy of luxury brands: people who bought Louis Vuitton looked down on those who bought Gucci; Gucci buyers looked down on Prada buyers; Prada buyers looked down on those wearing FootEase shoes…

As an aside, a certain national leader was especially fond of Neiliansheng shoes. In the 1990s, he even had a pair of leather shoes custom-made because he wanted to be the one to set foot on Hong Kong soil after its return and have a look around. In the end, he never got the chance to wear them.

The shoes were later collected by the National Museum.

“You’re having your meeting tomorrow?”

“That’s right!”

“Oh, I’ve heard about your screenplay. It’s quite good. Let’s hope it gets approved.”

“I’ll take that as a blessing!”

Chen Qi sat for only a short while before taking his leave. He had no bad impression of the old man. Chen Huaikai was easygoing, and if circumstances allowed, Chen Qi would not have minded treating him as an equal and becoming friends across the generations.

The next time the great director saw him, he would have to call him Uncle!

Chen Huaikai was a director of the third generation, from the same era as Xie Jin. He was not especially famous, because he mostly made films based on traditional opera and knew the old performing arts inside and out. Thus, when Farewell My Concubine was being made, the old man had stayed on set to offer guidance and brought in a number of famous Peking Opera performers to lend their support. He was credited as the “artistic director.”

In later years, there was a rumor that Farewell My Concubine had not been directed by the great director at all, but by his father.

That was simply wrong.

Chen Qi had always believed that even criticism should be grounded in fact. One could not criticize someone merely for the sake of criticizing them.

Farewell My Concubine had, of course, been directed by the great director. As the screenwriter Reed once put it, “At that time, Kaige was modest, eager to learn, and unashamed to ask questions. He was good at listening to other people’s opinions. Besides, the film brought together the most remarkable group of people in the industry at the time, and everyone worked together to create a classic.”

But after winning the Palme d’Or, the great director decided that he had become one of the elite and could no longer hear a word spoken by ordinary human beings.

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Reed said, “It was like trying to meet a government official.”

The sky gradually darkened.

The guesthouse was quiet. Outside the window, the budding trees swayed gently. After washing up, Chen Qi boiled a kettle of hot water and soaked his feet in his room.

Truth be told, it felt rather nostalgic. In his previous life, when he was in college, he and his girlfriend had rented a place together. They had been poor then and could afford only a two-hundred-yuan room, with conditions much like these. All the tenants were students. Every night, the sound of cannon fire shook the heavens, and every bed in the building seemed to be competing to see which could rock the hardest.

Chen Qi sighed.

Ah, after being single for long enough, even Cai Ming starts to look delicate and charming.

“I must be hungry, I suppose!
—Zhou Shuren”

In those days, there was no nighttime entertainment. Everyone went to bed early.

Chen Qi suddenly regretted not bringing a few books. Otherwise, there was simply nothing to do. He closed his eyes and thought through what he would say at the meeting the next day, then wondered what his parents might be doing at that very moment…

He drifted in and out for an indeterminate length of time before finally falling asleep.

……

April—the season when spring turns toward summer.

Daylight came early, and the dust storms had passed. It was a rare stretch of fine weather.

Chen Qi rose early, carrying the complimentary “identity voucher” that entitled him to eat and drink for free. He went downstairs, only to find that the cafeteria had not yet opened, so he ran several laps around the studio grounds. A few other people were exercising too, though he did not know any of them.

Afterward, he found a large willow tree and stretched his arms and kicked his legs beneath it, looking rather like he was doing calisthenics.

“Little Chen!”

Liang Xiaosheng appeared in a Meihua-brand tracksuit. Made in Tianjin, it was the official uniform of China’s sports delegations. Several years later, Xu Haifeng would win China’s first Olympic gold medal wearing a red Meihua tracksuit.

“Good heavens! Teacher Liang, you’re doing well for yourself—you’re wearing Meihua!”

“This outfit costs dozens of yuan. How could I afford it? Someone gave me these old clothes.”

Liang Xiaosheng was clearly exercising too. Seeing Chen Qi making such strange movements, he asked curiously, “Which broadcast exercise routine are you doing? I’ve never seen it before.”

“It’s not calisthenics. I read about it in some miscellaneous book. It’s called the Eight-Part Vajra Exercise…”

As he spoke, Chen Qi continued demonstrating. He bent his left knee into a bow stance, leaned his torso forward, and extended both hands behind him, slowly pressing them along either side of his spine toward his waist.

The movement was called “Hands and Feet Front and Back Stabilize the Kidneys and Waist.” Men suffering from kidney deficiency were welcome to give it a try.

“The Eight-Part Vajra Exercise?”

The name startled Liang Xiaosheng. Then he grew a little tense and lowered his voice.

“Is that some kind of Buddhist or Taoist practice?”

“Something like that!”

“Then be careful. Although attitudes toward religion have eased somewhat these days, it’s still a sensitive matter. Just say you made it up and practice it on your own. Don’t go mentioning anything about the Vajra Exercise.”

“Thank you for the warning!”

Chen Qi was sincerely grateful.

The practice had, of course, come from his previous life. One set of Vajra exercises in the morning, one set of Longevity exercises at night, goji-berry tea throughout the day, and an impressively rigid manhood to enjoy life to the fullest…

There was no helping it. Once a man passed forty, he became an expert in health maintenance.

Although Liang Xiaosheng had offered his warning, curiosity got the better of him.

“What’s the benefit of practicing this?”

“It loosens the muscles, strengthens the bones, and builds the body. In other words, it’s good for your health.”

“Then teach me.”

Hmm?

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Chen Qi was the one who froze this time.

Had the qigong craze already begun? If he stirred things up a little, could he become a grandmaster? He could spend every day giving female celebrities his ceremonial blessings.

Of course, that was only a thought. Having come from the future, he knew the so-called qigong craze all too well. He truly practiced the Vajra exercises merely to strengthen his body.

“All right,” he said. “You and I can compare notes tonight.”

“Good! I’ll definitely come by tonight!”

Liang Xiaosheng was quite excited.

A while later, the cafeteria opened.

The Beijing Film Studio could not compare in scale with the major industrial complexes. Those enormous factories had hospitals, schools, radio stations, and eventually even television stations of their own. Still, the studio’s conditions were quite good, especially considering that it was an arts organization with a rather special status.

Chen Qi ate his first breakfast there. He thought he spotted several familiar faces, but made no special effort to approach them. There would be plenty of opportunities to deal with them in the future.

After eating, the two of them went to the main building.

On the eastern side of the third floor were the offices of the Literature Department and Film Creation.

Film Creation served as a platform for the Beijing Film Studio to accept submissions. Every film studio had a similar magazine. If a literary screenplay was selected, it would be published there.

In those days, no one spoke of spoilers. The readership of such magazines consisted largely of people working within the industry.

The Literature Department’s job was to select screenplays, liaise with their authors, revise the drafts, and continue working until the final version was complete.

Chen Qi entered a small conference room. Several minutes later, people began arriving one after another. There were not many of them—five editors in all, including Liang Xiaosheng. Their leader was a man in his forties who spoke with a southern accent.

His name was Jiang Huaiyan, director of the Literature Department.

“Good morning, Director Jiang!”

“Good, good! I meant to visit you at the guesthouse last night, but something came up at the last minute and delayed me. Come, come—I’ll introduce you first!”

Jiang Huaiyan was extremely warm. He led Chen Qi to the front and smiled.

“You’ve already met Xiaosheng. He’s our youngest editor.”

“This is Teacher Shi Wenxin. She has been doing this work since 1954 and is currently our most senior editor.”

“Good morning, Teacher Shi!”

“What a fine-looking young man!”

Shi Wenxin was a petite old lady in her fifties. She was not particularly striking in appearance, but possessed the bearing of a woman of letters. She rose politely and replied with a smile.

Chen Qi took a closer look at her as well.

Her husband was Ge Cunzhuang, and her son was Ge You.

“And this is… this is…”

There were two people left, but Chen Qi paid them no attention, automatically numbering them Background Character A and Background Character B.

After the introductions, there were six people in the small conference room. Jiang Huaiyan held a screenplay in his hands—the very one Chen Qi had submitted.

“After receiving this screenplay, we were tremendously excited, though we also had some concerns. We discussed it for several days and reached a consensus before sending you the invitation.

“Today, we’ll have a formal discussion and examine its strengths and weaknesses. Little Chen, don’t be nervous. Speak freely. Our Literature Department has very strict standards, but the atmosphere is relaxed… Why don’t you begin by telling us about your creative approach?”

“I’m afraid I won’t explain myself very well. I hope all the teachers will be patient with me.”

Chen Qi accepted the screenplay and placed it in front of him.

On the cover were three large words:

Romance on Mount Lu!

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