Chapter 63: Jet Li

"Knock, knock, knock!"
"Please come in!"
Early that morning, Chen Qi knocked on the door of the studio director's office.
Wang Yang was drinking tea with a cheerful smile and said, "Have a seat. The guest will be here in a moment. What have you been busy with these past few days?"
"Writing stories for *Story Monthly*!"
"Oh? Still martial arts?"
"Yes, it's called *The Invincible Mandarin Duck Legs*!"
Chen Qi briefly recounted the plot, and Wang Yang nodded, saying, "That sounds quite interesting. I really don't know where you get so many fighting ideas from. Most people write one story a year, but you write three."
"It's precisely because the fighting makes it easy to write. If you asked me to write something profound, I wouldn't even know how..."
He paused, unable to resist asking, "Old Director, do you know if the royalties sent to me from Hong Kong are paid in Hong Kong dollars or Renminbi?"
"Hong Kong dollars, of course!"
"Then do they come with Overseas Chinese Remittance Vouchers?"
"Well... your situation is quite special, and I'm not entirely sure. You can go down to the bank and ask when the time comes," Wang Yang said.
Foreign Exchange Certificates were famous, but before them, there was another kind known as Overseas Chinese Remittance Vouchers.
When overseas Chinese sent foreign currency to relatives back home, the bank would directly convert it into Renminbi while allocating a certain amount of Remittance Vouchers. With these vouchers, domestic relatives could go to Friendship Stores and buy many fine goods unavailable on the open market.
Anchovies, luncheon meat, Klim powdered milk, instant coffee, tailored suits... ordinary citizens couldn't even imagine what treasures could be found inside. Even during the nation's most difficult times, this supply never ceased, and quite a few people lived high on the hog thanks to these vouchers.
Only when domestic relatives enjoyed such privileges would overseas Chinese remit more foreign currency; it was a clever method to attract foreign exchange.
Hong Kong dollars fell under this category as well.
However, Chen Qi's income came from royalties—specifically royalties from a Hong Kong state-owned enterprise—so whether they qualified for remittance vouchers remained an open question.
Unnoticed, mid-November had arrived. The National Congress of Writers and Artists had concluded. Fu Qi and Shi Hui had returned to Hong Kong, but they had recommended another left-wing director to stay temporarily at the Beijing Film Studio.
After waiting a short while, the guest arrived.
A man in his forties with a broad face and large ears walked in with a brisk stride, carrying the refined air of a traditional literatus. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he smiled warmly, "Old Director, I've come to bother you once again!"
"Xinyan, long time no see!"
Wang Yang shook his hand firmly and gestured toward Chen Qi, introducing him, "This is that talented young screenwriter... and this is Director Zhang Xinyan!"
"Hello, hello!"
"A youth of great promise!"
The man was none other than Zhang Xinyan, the newly appointed director of *The Shaolin Temple*.
He had always been a left-wing filmmaker and would later direct works like *A Hero Born*, *The Kung Fu Kids*, and others.
After some polite exchanges, he got straight to the point: "Now that winter has set in, the exterior scenery isn't looking its best, so I've simply decided to treat this period as pre-production. I've brought a few people with me to handle the preliminary matters, primarily casting. Once spring arrives next year and the flowers bloom, *The Shaolin Temple* will officially start production."
"That is the safest approach. How do you plan to select the actors?" Wang Yang asked.
"I don't want to use Peking Opera actors. This is a martial arts film, and I want to find a group with genuine kung fu skills. I know a young man from the Beijing Martial Arts Team named Li Lianjie. A few years ago, when the Chinese Wushu Delegation visited the United States and stopped by Hong Kong on their way back to report to our Hong Kong compatriots with a week of performances, I tagged along and shot a documentary for a week."
With an open and forthright personality, Zhang Xinyan spoke with great animation: "Back then he was only eleven years old, and his forms were exceptional. Now he must be around sixteen or seventeen. I'd like to go take a look and see how he's doing."
"If he was chosen to visit the United States, it shows the country thinks very highly of him. He must be a national champion, right?"
"That's right!"
"Then things might be a bit tricky. The Martial Arts Team won't let him go easily unless you approach the State Sports Commission."
"I'll go talk to them first..."
Having finished this topic, Zhang Xinyan turned his gaze to Chen Qi with a smile, "I've read your *Kapok Cassock*. It's brilliantly written and fits *The Shaolin Temple* perfectly. I'll be staying here for a while, so don't find me annoying when I come to discuss the script with you!"
"Please don't put it that way. I should be the one learning from you!"
.........
Early winter made Beijing increasingly biting and cold.
The Shichahai and Houhai areas had always been popular leisure spots for the locals. Once it grew even colder and the lakes froze over, massive crowds would come out to ice skate.
On the western side of this area stood the renowned Shichahai Sports School, from whose martial arts class the Beijing Martial Arts Team had originated.
Director Zhang Xinyan had settled into the Beijing Film Studio. With his tremendous drive, he went over there just a few days later, with Chen Qi trotting along eagerly—because he also needed to scout actors for his foreign-exchange film.
"Director Zhang!"
"Coach Wu!"
Wu Bin, the ace coach of the martial arts team, was in charge of the reception. While his attitude was warm, inwardly he was somewhat dismissive. In this day and age, crossover professions were rare; if you trained in martial arts, you practiced martial arts—why bother making movies? But since the visitor came from Hong Kong, he naturally had to let them have a look.
"This way, please. Our team members are currently in training."
"During the recent National Games, our team achieved good results, and these kids have gotten a bit full of themselves, slacking off in training. How can that do? In the way of martial arts, to not advance is to drop back; you have to train hard every single day."
Chen Qi chimed in at the right moment with some flattery, "Indeed, I've heard all about it. You won several gold medals—number one in the country!"
"You flatter me, you flatter me! We didn't even reach ten gold medals yet, we still need to work harder!"
Coach Wu's eyebrows practically flew upward as he led them into the training hall. A group of teenage boys and girls were practicing empty-handed or wielding double broadswords and straight swords, moving with a snapping crackle and a fierce, majestic momentum.
"Look at that female team member, her name is Li Xia. She's the National Games champion in traditional weapons and compulsory routines!"
"That one is Ge Chunyan, the women's team captain. This girl is formidable—a fifth-generation successor of Baguazhang, a nineteenth-generation successor of Chen-style Taijiquan, and a second-generation successor of Hunyuan Taijiquan. Her Baguazhang routine in particular is extraordinary!"
"That's Wang Qun, the men's team captain. He handles the spear brilliantly and is the national runner-up!"
Coach Wu pointed out several outstanding disciples before finally pointing to someone else, his pride overflowing, "That boy over there is Li Lianjie. He's only sixteen this year, and at the National Games, he won five gold medals all by himself! Five!"
With that, he called Li Lianjie over.
Li Lianjie's official height was 169 centimeters, but he looked a bit shorter. He wore a blue practice uniform with short cropped hair and radiated high spirits. Spotting Zhang Xinyan, he exclaimed in pleasant surprise, "Director Zhang, what brings you here?"
"I came specifically to see you. How have you been doing lately?"
"I'm doing great! I just won five gold medals, and my salary even went up—"
"Hey, hey!"
Coach Wu quickly cut him off. The boy was a martial arts prodigy, but his personality was somewhat blunt and he said whatever came to mind. Was salary something to talk about casually?
Zhang Xinyan's eyes practically lit up. Li Lianjie had good looks and superb martial arts skills; he was absolute prime material for the lead role in *The Shaolin Temple*. Most precious of all was that he possessed the aura of a star.
The concept of a "star aura" was elusive, serving as the final piece of the puzzle in determining whether someone could become a massive sensation. Take Wu Yue, for instance: he had prominent eyebrows, large eyes, supreme martial skill, and solid acting talent, yet somehow he remained only moderately popular.
While Zhang Xinyan chatted with Li Lianjie, Chen Qi scanned his surroundings, mentally marking down Wang Qun, Ge Chunyan, and the others.
Then his eyes fell upon a young girl whom he couldn't quite place, so he asked, "Coach Wu, who is that?"
"That's Huang Qiuyan. Her snake style and double swords are exceptional!"
Sure enough, it was Huang Qiuyan.
Chen Qi nodded inwardly—Li Lianjie's first wife.
As for all the gossip surrounding Li Lianjie—some accused him of abandoning his wife and children, others of changing his nationality, and still others of controversies regarding his One Foundation—it had been debated countless times on the internet and needed no further elaboration... though Nina Li was undeniably gorgeous!
In any case, Chen Qi had his own plans. As long as people like this were useful, he could employ them; after all, he had plenty of ways to keep people in line.