Chapter 00124: The Benefits of Fame
# The Benefits of Fame
Chapter 124
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 124: The Benefits of Fame
"I wrote two scripts for the Great Wall. Although I said I'd give them for free, they'll definitely pay me—20,000 Hong Kong dollars, which is about 6,000 RMB."
"Story Collection pays every two months, a fixed 87 RMB."
"If I write a few more scripts, I can get a few hundred from the Beijing Film Studio, and double that from Hong Kong... That should be enough, right?"
Chen Qi didn’t know exactly how much money he needed, but he knew the more, the better.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel secure.
After doing the math, he realized that writing scripts was the most profitable.
"Sigh, I wanted to rest after coming back, but now I have to work again, and it’s all for a house!"
Chen Qi threw his pen aside and flopped onto the bed like a salted fish.
His current state was eerily similar to that of a middle-aged office worker struggling through life in later years: dealing with frustration at work during the day, coming home to rebellious kids, his dad bragging about scoring a great deal on a health mattress for 18,000 RMB, and his wife asking him if he’d still love her if she turned into a caterpillar...
Oh heavens, why are you so cruel to me?
"Knock, knock, knock!"
Just as he was lying there, there was a knock at the door, accompanied by a woman's voice: "Screenwriter Chen, are you in?"
He jumped up in an instant.
Could it be that an actress had finally come to see him?
"Oh, what are you doing alone in your room?"
The door opened, and Liu Xiaoqing barged in like she owned the place.
She was wearing a floral short-sleeved shirt, a long skirt, and white sandals.
Back then, people wore socks with sandals, a fashion choice Chen Qi particularly disliked—he always thought it made feet smell.
But Liu Xiaoqing thought she looked great.
This was her best summer outfit.
The guesthouse separated men and women, and you couldn’t just wander into each other’s rooms at night.
But during the day, it was allowed since directors often held meetings in their rooms, and actors had to attend.
Still, for her to come alone to a male colleague’s room was bold.
"Do you need something?" Chen Qi asked, leaving the door open.
"Can’t I just come to see you? Congratulations on the huge success of Romance on Lushan Mountain. I still remember when you first arrived, and I came to ask if I could act in it. You said I wasn’t suitable. Sigh, I should’ve fought for it back then."
Liu Xiaoqing wandered around the room, hands behind her back, and smiled.
"What’s your next project? Got any ideas yet?"
"Ideas don’t just come out of nowhere. Maybe next year."
"Stop being so formal, big screenwriter! Little genius!"
Liu Xiaoqing suddenly leaned in, her apple-like cheeks flushed, and said with a smile, "I want to act in your play. What do you think of me?"
"Hold on, hold on!"
Chen Qi had seen his fair share of tricks, and this one was too amateurish.
He didn’t want to get involved, so he spoke bluntly: "If I think there’s a role suitable for you, I’ll definitely call you. If not, coming here won’t change anything. I’m being honest. Whether you believe me or not is up to you, but don’t come bothering me again."
"..."
Liu Xiaoqing stared at him for a few seconds, as if trying to figure out if he was serious or just playing hard to get.
Then she laughed.
"Sigh, you’re really heartless. Fine, I’ll go!"
She was just as direct, turning and leaving without another word.
"Tsk! With my dashing looks, who’s really taking advantage of whom here?"
Chen Qi locked the door and couldn’t help rolling his eyes.
Liu Xiaoqing had come all this way just to try a beauty trap, but unfortunately, he wasn’t into big-faced women, and her approach was too obvious.
What you think a beauty trap is: Liu Yifei seducing you.
What a real beauty trap is: 16-year-old Zhao Linger throwing herself into your arms, calling you "Brother Xiao Yao!"
…………
After Chen Qi returned, Room 302 became a hub of visitors.
Some came to exchange writing tips, others to commission work, and some for interviews.
The room was filled with scholars and intellectuals, giving it a vibe reminiscent of the Inscription of a Humble Abode.
One visitor was from the People’s Fine Arts Publishing House, hoping to turn Romance on Lushan Mountain into a comic book and asking Chen Qi to write the script.
Chen Qi was quite interested.
Comic books, or "little people’s books," as they were called, were extremely popular in the country at the time.
They were small, horizontally formatted books.
Common themes included stories of Yue Fei, the Yang Family Generals, the Four Great Classical Novels, and revolutionary tales.
Adapting popular movies was also a trend.
In a few years, the genres would diversify, with martial arts, mystery, and crime stories becoming popular.
Comic books weren’t just for kids—adults loved them too.
Chen Qi enthusiastically discussed the project, but when it came to the payment, he lost interest.
"For original scripts, each panel pays 1-2 RMB, with a few exceptional ones going up to 3 RMB. Since this is an adaptation of your own work, the standard rate is 0.6-1 RMB per panel. We’re willing to offer you 1 RMB, which is a high price."
Comic books, of course, focused on the artwork.
Black-and-white illustrations paid 6-12 RMB per panel, while colored ones paid 8-22 RMB, with exceptional pieces earning even more.
So, comic book artists were high earners in those days.
A "panel" referred to the text accompanying a single page of artwork—just a sentence or two—and earning 1 RMB for that seemed pretty good to outsiders.
Chen Qi thought it was too little, but even a mosquito’s bite is still meat.
Since he was saving up to build a house, he agreed.
Romance on Lushan Mountain would be around 100 pages at most, so he’d earn 100 RMB.
This was all thanks to his newfound fame.
He could now officially declare himself a "famous screenwriter!"
Chen Qi even considered revealing his pen name for Story Collection, but he decided it was too early.
The martial arts film craze hadn’t hit yet, and revealing it might not attract buyers.
He’d wait until Tai Chi became a hit.
…………
"Knock, knock, knock!"
"Come in!"
One morning, an unexpected guest knocked on the door of Room 302. Chen Qi, who had been sitting, immediately stood up.
He recognized the man but pretended not to, asking, "And you are?"
"My name is Wang Fulin, a director from CCTV!"
"Oh, oh! The old factory manager mentioned you. Please, have a seat!"
Chen Qi grabbed a special guest teacup and poured some tea.
Looking at the 49-year-old Wang Fulin, whose jet-black hair made him look much younger, Chen Qi felt a sense of déjà vu, as if he were remembering old friends—especially one named Daiyu and another named Baochai...
Three years later, Wang Fulin would start filming Dream of the Red Chamber.
Nine years later, he would begin preparations for Romance of the Three Kingdoms, though he’d be the general director and not handle the actual filming.
In any case, he’d worked on two of the Four Great Classical Novels, making him a memorable figure in Chinese television history.
"The old factory manager must have told you. We’re severely lacking in scripts for TV dramas. I recently watched Romance on Lushan Mountain and thought you did an excellent job blending grand love with personal love. That’s why I’ve come to see you."
"You’re too kind. Please, tell me your requirements, and we’ll discuss openly."
"Alright! For TV drama scripts, the first thing is to break free from the constraints of model operas, but the themes still need to be positive and convey the right values."
Wang Fulin counted on his fingers as he spoke.
"For example, the show I’m preparing now, Eighteen Years in the Enemy Camp, is about intelligence work behind enemy lines. That’s a very appropriate theme. Second, our resources are limited, so just write three episodes."
"Three episodes? That’s quite a bold scale."
"Ah, the scale can’t be too big. It needs to be moderate."
Wang Fulin shook his head and added, "Lastly, and I’m not embarrassed to say this, our budget is tight, so we might not be able to pay you much."
"Isn’t there a standard rate for TV drama scripts?"
"TV dramas are just starting out. There’s no standard rate yet—it’s all negotiated. If your script is truly excellent, we’ll adjust the payment accordingly. We won’t let you work for nothing."
"Hmm..."
Chen Qi hesitated.
Writing TV dramas was much more exhausting than comic books, and if the pay was too low, he wasn’t interested.
"To be honest, I’m building a house, so it’s not that I’m greedy for money—I really need it. If you can promise me 100 RMB per episode, I’ll agree. Of course, if the quality isn’t up to par, you can reject it, and I won’t argue."
"..."
Wang Fulin thought for a moment, then made up his mind.
"Alright, it’s a gentleman’s agreement!"
"Great. I’ll have the script ready for you in a month at the latest."
"That fast?"
"My biggest strength is writing (or copying) scripts quickly and well. You’ll see once we work together more."
(I have something to do tonight, so there will be two updates today.
Don’t worry, I’ll make up for it with four updates tomorrow.)
(End of Chapter)