Chapter 00282: The Eccentric Fellow
# The Eccentric Fellow
Chapter 282
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 282: The Eccentric Fellow
"Meow!"
Early that morning, as Liu Dehua opened the car door of the high-end vehicle, he spotted a black cat lounging comfortably in Chen Qi's arms.
"Mr. Chen, what's this?"
"This is the cat you and Zhong Chuhong will be raising in the film. Get familiar with it."
With that, he tossed the cat over.
Liu Dehua fumbled to catch it, seemingly hurting the feline in the process.
The black cat began yowling, its four paws flailing as it shot him a disdainful glance.
Hmph! Stupid human, what use are you?
"Meow! Meow! Meow!"
"Alright, give it back."
Seeing this, Chen Qi took the cat back, and it instantly quieted down, curling into its favorite position as it resumed enjoying the pleasure of being petted.
The car started, driving from the dormitory to the set.
Since they lived in the same place, Liu Dehua often hitched a ride.
Cautiously, he asked, "Mr. Chen, what did you think of my character study?"
"Superficial and shallow, but I can tell you put effort into it. Consider it a pass."
Liu Dehua let out a sigh of relief.
"Honestly, I really didn’t know how to write it. I had ideas in my head, but once I picked up the pen, it all fell apart. I saw how effortlessly Jia Hui managed it."
"That’s why you need to read more! You didn’t have the chance to study before, but don’t forget to enrich yourself now. In the end, acting comes down to culture. Look at my current look..."
Chen Qi spread his hands.
"A suit, a shirt, handsome, powerful, holding a black cat—yet you still won’t call me 'Godfather'! Because you just don’t get it!"
"Uh..."
Liu Dehua twitched his lips, speechless.
"You’ve spent half a month at the bank and finally grasped the basics. Starting today, I’ll teach you some real skills. Make sure to practice."
With that, Chen Qi leaned back and closed his eyes, saying no more, only the occasional movement of the cat in his lap breaking the silence.
"..."
Liu Dehua observed him discreetly.
This Mr. Chen was serious when he needed to be and utterly unserious when he didn’t.
His thoughts jumped around unpredictably, and Liu Dehua often struggled to keep up, still trying to adapt.
At the same time, he sensed an aura of mysticism around the man—something enigmatic and unfathomable.
Soon, the car arrived at the Clearwater Bay set.
The two men and the cat entered the makeup room, where Tony Leung was already seated.
He grinned.
"Wow, the Godfather!"
Chen Qi shot Liu Dehua a glance.
See? This is the difference between cultured and uncultured.
"You two go ahead with makeup. We’ll take stills later. Where’s Ah Hung?"
"Playing with mud!"
"Hm? Did the pottery wheel arrive?"
Carrying the cat, Chen Qi headed to the studio and spotted a brand-new pottery wheel in the corner—a spinning platform where clay could be shaped into bowls, jars, and the like.
Zhong Chuhong’s hair, originally long and straight, had been permed into soft waves.
She wore jeans, a short-sleeved white blouse with a red undershirt, and large earrings.
Her most alluring charm would peak after age 27, but now she still carried a youthful freshness—though youth had its own kind of beauty.
"Hahaha!"
She sat behind the pottery wheel, learning from an instructor, her hands covered in clay as she played gleefully.
Looking up, she spotted Chen Qi and the cat in his arms.
"Ah!"
"Is this my cat? So cute!"
Eagerly, she washed her hands and took the cat, stroking it skillfully.
The black cat responded cooperatively, clearly fond of people who loved animals.
"Mr. Chen, does it have a name?"
"No. You can give it one."
"It’s so chubby. How about Fatty?"
"Whatever. No more playing with mud once we start shooting stills."
With that, Chen Qi went off to discuss matters with Tsui Hark.
Zhong Chuhong pouted.
Since being called in for this film, she’d held a grudge against Chen Qi—though she didn’t dare show it.
A while later, Liu Dehua and Tony Leung finished and came over for the photoshoot.
Under the photographer’s direction, the three posed in various combinations, the cat included.
Zhong Chuhong suddenly noticed that Mr. Chen was sitting in a corner, his gaze seemingly fixed on her as he scribbled something in a notebook.
Her heart skipped a beat.
The camera clicked away.
She shifted her pose and glanced again.
Sure enough!
That guy was definitely watching her.
"Why is he staring at me?"
"He picked me out of nowhere for this film. Does he really have ulterior motives?!"
Her thoughts ran wild, but Chen Qi made no further moves.
After the shoot, he called the three over.
"You’re all inexperienced, so starting today, I’ll teach you some templates."
"Simply put, these are fixed gestures and expressions you’ll use in the film."
Localizing a remake wasn’t easy.
Future masters like Happy Mahua, Chen Sicheng, Jia Ling, and Bao Bei’er were all expert adapters—some excellent, others downright awful, drawing endless criticism.
For Chen Qi’s Hong Kong version of *Ghost*, the character dynamics had to change.
Liu Dehua was too young, so he was cast as a greenhorn in the workplace.
Tony Leung, a few years older, became the seasoned mentor—a reversal of the original roles.
After giving them a taste of finance life, Chen Qi employed the "celebrity acting crash course."
For Liu Dehua, he demanded long, quick strides, a black briefcase in hand, movements crisp and efficient.
Tony Leung was to amble leisurely, coffee in hand, with a slight sway in his step...
For Zhong Chuhong, Chen Qi simply made her smile—over and over.
A faint smile, a big smile, a toothy grin, a closed-lip smile, a hair-tossing smile, a gaze-locked smile...
Then he took photos, selecting the most flattering versions.
Some people were photogenic but mediocre actors.
Others shone in motion.
Zhong Chuhong’s static beauty was lacking, but she came alive on screen.
After coaching them, Chen Qi asked, "Do you drink?"
"Huh?"
"I mean, do you like drinking?"
"It’s alright."
"Beer, baijiu, huangjiu, or Western liquor?"
"I tried a mixed drink once. Don’t know what it was, but it tasted great."
"Good. A teacher will come tomorrow to teach you mixology."
Zhong Chuhong’s eyes widened.
Finally, she blurted, "Why do I have to learn so much? Mr. Chen, I’ve never wronged you. Can’t you just let me go?"
"Hm?"
Chen Qi rubbed his nose.
So she thought he was deliberately tormenting her.
No way to explain it now.
Once they got closer, she’d understand.
He simply said, "So, are you learning or not? If not, I’ll ask Mona Fong to replace you."
"I’ll learn! Of course I’ll learn! How could I refuse?"
"Then do your best."
"Hmph!"
Zhong Chuhong shot a fierce glare at his retreating back, only to see him flip open his notebook and jot something down.
"Hey, hey, Wah Jai!"
She grabbed Liu Dehua’s sleeve.
"Do you know what Mr. Chen keeps writing?"
"How would I know the boss’s business?"
"But is he always this weird?"
"Well..."
Liu Dehua scratched his head, whispering, "I’ve only just met him, but yeah, he’s pretty weird. Half the time, you’ve got no clue what he’s up to."
"Right? You feel it too!"
Finding a kindred spirit, Zhong Chuhong added, "Sometimes he’s like a fortune-teller, sizing you up with this strange look—like you’re naked, stripped bare from head to toe."
"Can’t relate. If he saw me naked, he’d get an eyeful of horror."
Liu Dehua shuddered.
The two bonded over mocking their boss.
Chen Qi either didn’t hear or didn’t care.
In Hong Kong’s unique environment, a little mystique went a long way.
(End of Chapter)