Chapter 39: The Storytelling Hour

"Thump, thump, thump!"

He stood at the door of the room upstairs and knocked three times.

The movement inside the room stopped abruptly. A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing a beautiful, makeup-free face.

"Comrade Xiao Chen!"

Gong Xue was wearing a sleeveless white dress and a pair of white high heels. There was a trace of shyness and panic in her eyes, as if she had been caught doing something secret in the room.

"Oh, you live upstairs from me?" Chen Qi genuinely didn't know.

"Yes, is there something you need?"

"I was trying to write something just now, heard some noise upstairs, and came to check."

"Oh! Then I must have disturbed you. I'm so sorry!"

"It's alright, it's alright. I was just wondering, what were you doing in there?"

"I..."

Gong Xue's pretty face flushed slightly as she whispered, "I wanted to practice walking in high heels. I've never worn them before."

"Oh, that's something you definitely need to practice. If you wear them for the first time without experience, it's like walking on stilts, and you're prone to twisting your ankle."

"I'm sorry, I won't practice in the room anymore."

"It's fine, really. You make me sound so petty. Alright, I'm heading back now..."

Just as Chen Qi was about to turn, he suddenly remembered something and asked, "By the way, you're from Shanghai. Do you know of a magazine in Shanghai called *Story Monthly*?"

"*Story Monthly*?"

Gong Xue thought for a moment and asked, "Do you mean *Revolutionary Story Monthly*?"

"Are they the same thing?"

"They should be. I read *Story Monthly* when I was a child, and later it was renamed *Revolutionary Story Monthly*."

"Do you know how the magazine is doing now? I mean, do they accept submissions for popular fiction?"

"I'm not quite sure. I'll ask for you. Are you in a hurry?"

"No rush. Thanks in advance!"

The two stood at the doorway chatting for a few moments. Chen Qi didn't dare enter, and Gong Xue certainly wouldn't have let him in.

*At my age and hers, there are always people who talk without listening. Gossip can be as heavy as a mountain, and once caught in it, there's no way to clear your name. I must be careful about this...* Chen Qi patted his own face and turned to leave.

Gong Xue closed the door carefully and took off her shoes with light steps.

She had only walked for a while, and her foot was already aching from a slight twist. She sat at the table, gently rubbing her ankle with one hand while picking up a pen and paper with the other to write a letter to her parents.

Her family was in Shanghai, so it would be easy to find out information.

***

After the Reform and Opening-up, the environment for literary creation gradually relaxed.

Central and provincial literary journals were restored one after another, and various regions began launching their own magazines; even county-level units were setting up periodicals. From the late 1970s to the early 1980s, a magazine craze swept the country.

It was easy to start a magazine during this period; any unit could do it. By 1981, there were 634 literary magazines in China.

The ideology of the mainstream literary scene was controlled by major journals like *People's Literature*, *Sprouts*, and *Harvest*. They pursued serious literature, emphasizing profound thought, strong literary merit, and reflecting the spirit of the times...

That was not wrong.

But just like in the music and film industries, after a long time, some people naturally began to see themselves as the synonym for "mainstream," condescendingly defining those who came after them. Those who obeyed were included in the mainstream; those who didn't were labeled non-mainstream.

However, such a large number of magazines with varying quality made a mess of the market.

First, it significantly squeezed the space of mainstream magazines; simply put, their sales dropped. Second, it wasted paper—this is no joke; everything was in short supply back then, including paper.

Consequently, the authorities cleaned up a batch of low-quality local magazines and issued regulations in 1984: they had to be self-sufficient and would no longer receive government funding.

To survive, these local magazines turned to popular literature, publishing martial arts, romance, and thriller novels, which contributed to the rise of popular literature in the 1980s.

Of course, that hadn't happened yet.

Right now, 99% were focused on serious literature. If there was still 1% that was an outlier, it could only be *Story Monthly*!

*Reader*, *Zhiyin*, *Yilin*, and *Youth Digest*—the "Four Great Classics" of the Reform and Opening-up era—why wasn't *Story Monthly* among them? Because *Story Monthly* was above them.

It set a record of 7.6 million copies per issue, reaching the peak of single-issue distribution for a periodical worldwide.

Before 2000, it sold an average of 4 million copies per issue. Even today, when many think it has faded away, it still maintains a steady monthly circulation of 500,000 to 600,000.

Chen Qi didn't think submitting to *Story Monthly* was "low"; on the contrary, he quite liked it.

Back in his room, it was quiet upstairs.

Sitting at the desk, he continued to organize his thoughts. He wanted to write a martial arts novel, though the term "martial arts" wasn't popular yet; it was called "martial combat."

"*The Legend of Qin*? *Twin of Brothers*? Too racy, and the length is so massive that I can't possibly remember it all!"

"Han the Old Demon, the outcast of the Qingyun Sect? That's immortal cultivation, let's leave that for a few years later."

"Ghost Blows Out the Light? I'm afraid I'd be shot for five minutes for encouraging tomb raiding!"

"Shaolin Temple?"

The name popped into his head, and he fell into deep thought. *Shaolin Temple* was likely already in preparation, so it wouldn't be good to write that, but he could certainly do something with the Shaolin theme.

He didn't know what results Gong Xue would get, but he would write it anyway—it would definitely be useful.

With the thought settled, he picked up his pen.

The sound of scratching against paper filled the room under the lamp.

***

"Over here, over here! Move faster!"

"Ma'am, please step aside a little; you'll be in the shot!"

Three days later, the crew of *Evening Rain at Lushan* officially began filming. In this era, there were no Hong Kong-style customs of burning incense or offering a pig's head.

Chen Qi didn't feel right just standing around, so he helped move equipment.

Lushan had the famous White Deer Grotto Academy, where Zhu Xi once promoted education. There was a stream in the academy with turbulent, rushing water, and a large rock resting in it, named "Pillow-Stream Rock." There was also a bridge over the stream called the Pillow-Stream Bridge.

The characters "Pillow-Stream" were written by Zhu Xi himself.

The crew only had one camera, which seemed meager, but one had to realize that the Beijing Film Studio produced several films a year, and sometimes they started filming simultaneously. Having one camera per film was already quite generous.

*Journey to the West* was truly meager—one camera sustained 25 episodes.

"It's so hot today! Even in the mountains, it's not cool."

After moving the equipment, Chen Qi stood on the bridge, wiping sweat. A crew member laughed, "There's no shade here, so of course it's hot."

"There are trees over there; I'll go cool off in a bit... Hey, that mountain peak is quite interesting."

He pointed to the mountain peak to the north, which had a unique shape, like five old men sitting on the ground.

"Oh, that's Five Old Men Peak!"

"Five Old Men Peak?"

Chen Qi scratched his head. Why did that sound so familiar?

He realized it a moment later. Oh, Shiryu's master, Dohko, was stationed at the Five Old Men Peak—a scrawny little old man who could power up and transform into the Gold Saint of Libra!

Come to think of it, Shiryu was useless; he just gouged out his eyes whenever he fought. Shun only looked for his brother, Hyoga only thought of his mother, and Seiya was just a massive simp for Saori. Ikki was the strongest after all!

"Alright, get ready!"

"Let's do a walkthrough first!"

Film was precious, so they had to save it wherever possible. Before the official take, they had to walk through the scenes several times until they met the standard.

Today’s scene was the first meeting between the male and female leads.

Zhou Yun comes to Lushan to sightsee and stands on the bridge, wanting to take a photo of Pillow-Stream Rock. Geng Hua accidentally walks into her frame, and the two have their first conversation...

They filmed Tang Guoqiang's part first.

He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up, army-green trousers, and black cloth shoes. Experienced as he was, he walked over with a book and sat on the Pillow-Stream Rock to read.

"Good, that's it!"

It went smoothly. Wang Haowei nodded in satisfaction and called out, "Gong Xue, get ready!"

Gong Xue was visibly nervous.

She was wearing a light purple, floral, puff-sleeved shirt, red bell-bottoms, and high heels. She wore a small Western-style hat, and her naturally wavy hair had been permed to make the waves even more prominent.

It proved the saying that clothes make the person.

Dressed this way, she looked truly stylish—in a way that fit the aesthetic of the Chinese people, not the American style of drugs, promiscuity, rock and roll, or biker gangs.

"Let's do a walkthrough!"

"Ready, 3, 2, 1!"

Gong Xue carried her bag and held a map, comparing it as she searched for the Pillow-Stream Rock.

She was supposed to walk down the path, step onto the bridge, and take a look at the rock; that would complete the shot. But as she walked in her high heels, Wang Haowei frowned.

After a few more steps, she shouted, "Stop! Stop!"

"Gong Xue, what are you doing?"