Chapter 18: Everyone Has Their Awkward Beginnings

“Xiao Qing!”

“Xiao Qing!”

The footsteps in the corridor grew louder, and in the blink of an eye, they reached the doorway. The door, left ajar to avoid any appearance of impropriety, played a crucial role. The visitor glanced inside, then stepped in without hesitation.

He was a man in his early thirties, average-looking but wearing a face marked by exhaustion and a restless, unstable agitation.

“You’re here! Why are you staying at the guesthouse again? Come on, come home with me!”

He immediately grabbed Liu Xiaoqing’s arm. Liu Xiaoqing shook him off forcefully and said, “I’ve told you, I’m here for work. Staying at the guesthouse makes filming easier.”

“I’ve checked. You don’t have any work right now. Stop this nonsense. I’ve even cooked dinner. Let’s go home.”

“I’m not going back! You need to leave!”

“Cough, cough!”

Chen Qi, seeing the scene, cleared his throat twice and said, “Sorry, this is my room. Could you please take your conversation outside?”

“Sorry, sorry. We’ll go right away!” The man was surprisingly polite, though he resumed pulling at Liu Xiaoqing.

Their voices grew louder, drawing attention from the whole floor. Chen Huaikai next door even came out to watch the commotion.

“What kind of nonsense is this!”

Chen Qi, annoyed by the disturbance, stepped closer to intervene. Just as he was about to speak, Liu Xiaoqing jerked the man’s hand away, but the hand, carried by momentum and beyond his control, flung upward…

And the man fell flat on the floor with a thump.

That was experience! A quick counterattack led to a scuffle!

“Sorry, comrade, I didn’t mean it…” The man apologized while looking bewildered. “Did I touch him? I don’t think I did. If I didn’t, then why is he lying down?”

“Wang Li!” Liu Xiaoqing couldn’t help but shout loudly, “Are you trying to make me lose face in front of the whole factory?”

“That’s not what I meant. Don’t be mad, please don’t be mad! I just want you to come home with me.”

“Home! Fine, I’ll go home with you! Now, get out! Get out!”

Liu Xiaoqing, equally agitated, pushed and shoved her way out of the room. No sooner had they left than Chen Qi got up and pressed against the doorway, watching the drama unfold with growing amusement, leaving Liang Xiaosheng speechless.

“I’ll come home with you, but don’t cause me any more trouble!”

“Alright, alright. As long as you come home, I’ll do whatever you want!”

Their relentless quarrel drew out curious heads from almost every room, eyes sharp and alert as they descended the stairs. Soon, a buzz of whispers filled the air like wild creatures darting through a melon patch, their animated discussions lively and intense.

Chen Qi clicked his tongue and asked, “Is that her husband?”

“Yeah, his name’s Wang Li.”

“How did it get to this point?”

“That woman is a handful, which is why I told you to stay away from her,” Liang Xiaosheng explained.

Liu Xiaoqing had once been with the Chengdu Military Region Drama Troupe, while Wang Li belonged to the Liberation Army’s General Political Department Opera Troupe. They met through mutual friends.

To put it nicely, she was extremely career-driven. To put it bluntly, she was willing to use any means to climb the ladder.

While most people were stuck in place, either resigned or helpless, Liu Xiaoqing was determined to seize the opportunity of filmmaking to rise socially. But the drama troupe had too many restrictions, so she devised a plan—she started cozying up to Wang Li.

She knitted him sweaters and woolen pants, wrote him sweet love letters, and then boldly proposed marriage. Since Wang Li was stationed in the capital, Liu Xiaoqing hoped marriage would transfer her there.

What man at that time could resist such forthrightness from a woman?

Wang Li was ecstatic, and they married. But Liu Xiaoqing’s transfer never came through. She didn’t like him to begin with and became even more indifferent after marriage, finding even marital intimacy distasteful.

Over time, Wang Li grew paranoid, fearing she would run off with someone else. He even locked her in the house when she went out to buy groceries.

Liu Xiaoqing, on the other hand, often stayed at the guesthouse under the pretext of filming, and their quarrels became routine.

What was the concept of love in those days?

Once a couple publicly declared their relationship, they had to marry. Otherwise, it was considered improper. Even after marriage, divorce was almost unheard of; if it happened, it was a scandal talked about for years.

Liu Xiaoqing gambled her marriage as a stake, all for a chance at a better future.

“A formidable woman!” Chen Qi could only give a thumbs-up. Huang Zhanying was right—the literary and artistic circles were too unpredictable!

Liang Xiaosheng sighed, “Xiao Liu’s work skills are solid, but her personal life is complicated... Hey, do you know how much Director Wang spent trying to get her transferred here?”

“How much?”

“Eighty thousand!” Liang Xiaosheng gestured a number with his fingers. “When we negotiated with Chengdu, they asked for a huge transfer fee—eighty thousand. Without hesitation, the director just paid it.”

“That’s bold!” Chen Qi was surprised.

“Of course. Director Wang treasures talent, especially young promising guys like you. Nail this script well, and you’ll definitely have your chance.”

...

The next day, Liu Xiaoqing came by again.

She brought a box of fruit as an apology for yesterday’s incident. The box was from Daoxiang Village, a famous bakery in the capital, constantly rivaling with its Suzhou counterpart.

Inside were eight assorted pastries: peach crisps, jujube flower cakes, sachima, and zhaozigao, all packed neatly in a wooden box tied with a ribbon—a perfect gift for visiting relatives or matchmaking talks.

Well-off families would even buy some during the New Year.

Kids, however, were always tempted. They’d sneak a piece secretly, and by the time the adults opened it, the box would be empty—usually followed by a thorough scolding.

Liu Xiaoqing’s gift was a full measure of social grace.

Chen Qi remained polite but indifferent. In their world, everyone knew how to put on a smile. Besides, Liu’s grandmother was very capable; they might collaborate in the future.

The days of revising manuscripts passed quietly, much like Chen Qi’s usual idle days at work.

That evening, at the canteen.

Chen Qi noticed everyone was unusually excited, eating quickly and whispering among themselves. Liang Xiaosheng was busy, urging, “Hurry up and finish eating. Afterward, we’ll move the tables!”

“Why move the tables?”

“Tonight’s a screening of an internal reference film!”

“English film or Hong Kong film?”

“Hey, you know your stuff!” Liang Xiaosheng said, surprised.

“I’ve just heard about it and have always been curious. How often do you show these?”

“About once every two weeks. Tonight’s a Hong Kong film, with martial arts.”

“Oh, martial arts are fun to watch!”

Chen Qi quickly finished his meal and helped move the tables. They neatly stacked the canteen tables along the sides, leaving a large open space in the middle, then arranged stools to create a makeshift cinema.

Internal reference films—officially called “internal reference reels”—were special screenings, like premium products such as tobacco, alcohol, or tea. From top leaders down to military compounds, film studios, and cultural units, everyone had access to these exclusive showings.

Life was never equal. In that era, while most people worried about basic sustenance, some groups were already listening to rock, jazz, and Teresa Teng.

Of course, watching internal reference films had to be discreet.

So when the sun set, the Beijing Film Studio resembled a secret agent’s base. People tiptoed in line to enter the canteen, with guards posted at the door and even hidden sentries—conditions were poor back then; later, they built dedicated screening rooms.

As Chen Qi followed the crowd inside, the dim lighting revealed a sea of heads. Just as he felt lost, Liang Xiaosheng called out, “Over here, over here!”

In the center, the literary department editors and their families had already gathered.

“Director Jiang!”

“Teacher Shi!”

Chen Qi greeted them all and casually took a seat. Looking to his left and right, he smiled.

On his left sat a young man in his early twenties, so slender his head seemed disproportionately large. He had small eyes and a receding hairline. Plain, but with a shy demeanor.

On his right was a little girl, about eleven or twelve, with a broad forehead, refined features, and a cute flower pinned in her hair.

“This is my daughter, Jiang Shan, and this is Brother Chen,” Jiang Huaiyan introduced with a smile.

The little girl glanced at Chen Qi, apparently finding him handsome, then said, “Hello, Brother!”

“Hello to you too. Are you in elementary school now?”

“Yes, I’m in elementary. Brother, what do you do?”

“I sell big bowls of tea.”

???

Jiang Shan looked puzzled. Jiang Huaiyan laughed and explained.

Meanwhile, the shy young man seemed to have mustered courage and finally spoke, “Hello, my name is Ge You. My mother has mentioned you.”

“Hello, hello! Nice to meet you!” Chen Qi extended his right hand. Ge You tried to do the same but, cramped for space, could only give a brief, awkward handshake, nodding repeatedly. “Nice to meet you. I heard you’re here to revise scripts?”

“Yes. Currently staying at the guesthouse. What do you do?”

He hit a nerve.

Ge You blushed and spoke softly, “I’m preparing for exams. That’s what I’m doing.”

Ha!

The more he did that, the more Chen Qi wanted to tease him—and also to play with little Jiang Shan.

(Thanks to Ally Qi Wang_Yue!)

That’s all...