Chapter 00042: White Rabbit
# White Rabbit
Chapter 42
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 42: White Rabbit
"3, 2, 1, action!"
As soon as the words fell, Gong Xue, holding a map, walked over, looking around.
Suddenly, she spotted the stone bridge, her eyes lighting up.
Her steps quickened, and her red bell-bottom pants swayed back and forth with her brisk pace, like two flowers being dragged along, quite a sight to behold.
She jogged onto the bridge with a bit of excitement, the stream gurgling below, the pillow-like rocks just beneath.
"Oh~"
Gong Xue's small mouth opened slightly, as if she had finally found what she was looking for.
She tucked the map under her arm and fumbled through her bag to pull out a camera, snapping pictures.
"Good!"
Wang Haowei finally called out in satisfaction.
"Director!"
Gong Xue hurried over, her face full of anticipation.
"How was it this time?"
"Not bad, you've captured the feeling I wanted. It wasn't a waste letting you relax for a few days."
"It's all thanks to your patience, otherwise I would have been worried sick."
Wang Haowei believed in taking things slow to achieve the best results.
She would rather not shoot if the ideal effect wasn't there.
She had taken Chen Qi's advice and let Gong Xue simply enjoy herself, traveling and taking photos, which had indeed paid off.
"Comrade Gong Xue, you're improving quickly!"
Tang Guoqiang also came over with a smile.
He had been quite bored these past few days and asked, "Director, can we start shooting now?"
"Yes, we can start shooting!"
"Everyone, get ready!"
Finally, they started shooting.
Gong Xue had passed her first scene, and the moment they called "cut," her joy was almost overflowing.
Chen Qi watched from the sidelines, unmoved.
She hadn't truly merged with her character; she had used quick methods.
Without cultivating her inner skills, she directly practiced external techniques, using formulaic movements and expressions to highlight the character.
There are two types of acting: the star method and the actor method.
For example, Andy Lau has always used the star method.
It's not bad; the audience loves it, and he can even win Best Actor awards.
Chen Qi had seen Gong Xue's films in the future and thought she was quite suited for the star method.
When he met Gong Li and Maggie Cheung, that's when he would be interested in discussing what it truly means to be an actor!
Of course, at this moment, Gong Xue had no idea that a few people looked down on her.
She was immersed in her happiness, only occasionally stealing a glance.
…………
"Gong Xue, there's a package for you!"
"Thank you!"
A few days later, just after finishing work, Gong Xue received a package at the hotel, along with a letter.
Lushan wasn't too far from Shanghai.
She opened the letter, which was from her father.
"Dear Xiaoxue, We were surprised and delighted to hear that you're filming in Lushan. You're so close to home, but unfortunately, we've been very busy with work lately and couldn't visit. Don't blame us. Take care of yourself. We're all doing well. To make up for it, we've sent you a pack of White Rabbit candies. Enjoy them slowly…"
She smiled, but also felt a bit sad.
After graduating from high school, she had volunteered to join the rural labor force.
She worked hard in the countryside, enduring hardships, and then became a cultural soldier, also enduring hardships, walking dozens of miles a day without complaining even when her feet were blistered.
She had no right to complain.
Because of this, she always tried her best to stand out wherever she was, striving to be a model worker, so life would be a bit easier.
Later, her parents returned to work, and she joined a theater troupe in Beijing.
Ten years had passed without her being by her parents' side, only occasionally taking leave to visit…
She had always wanted to be a full-time actor, preferably transferred to the Shanghai Film Studio.
Unfortunately, the theater troupe was very opposed to her filming movies.
If it weren't for the Beijing Film Studio stepping in, they probably wouldn't have let her go.
"Beijing Film Studio…"
Gong Xue held the letter, momentarily lost in thought.
She had never imagined she would have any connection with the Beijing Film Studio, let alone star in such a big production.
She opened the package and found a pack of White Rabbit candies, along with a copy of the "Story Club" magazine.
White Rabbit candies were famous, originally created in 1943 by a Shanghai candy factory called "ABC Mickey Mouse Candy," with Mickey Mouse packaging.
Later, it was nationalized, and since Mickey Mouse was seen as too Western, it was changed to White Rabbit—Disney's legal department breathed a sigh of relief.
Initially, they could only produce 800 kilograms a day, and it was said that seven White Rabbit candies were equivalent to a glass of milk, making it a luxury item.
When Nixon visited China, he was given a pack.
They were hard to come by, so her parents must have gone through a lot of trouble to send her a pack.
Gong Xue loved White Rabbit candies.
She unwrapped one and popped it into her mouth, savoring it for a while.
Then, as if remembering something, she picked up the pack of candies, stood up, hesitated, blinked, and then went out.
"Knock, knock, knock!"
"Xiao Gong, do you need something?"
Wang Haowei opened the door.
"My parents sent me a pack of White Rabbit candies. I want to share them with everyone, but I'm not sure how to do it. Could you help me?"
"Oh, White Rabbit candies are quite a rarity!"
Wang Haowei quickly realized that Gong Xue was worried about handling the relationships within the crew and was seeking her advice.
She said straightforwardly, "Since they're a rarity, just give one to each of the main crew members. No one will complain."
"Okay, I understand. Thank you, Director!"
"No need to thank me. I've noticed you're too polite. Everyone in the crew is nice; don't worry about unnecessary things. Oh, and Xiao Chen helped you a lot. Make sure to save a few for him as a gesture of gratitude."
"I understand. Thank you, Director!"
"Alright, hurry up. I'm getting old just standing here!"
Wang Haowei shooed her away, and Gong Xue, pursing her lips, ran downstairs and knocked on another door.
"Huh? Comrade Gong Xue, do you need something?"
Chen Qi opened the door.
"My father wrote back and sent a copy of 'Story Club,' the magazine you mentioned."
"He sent a magazine? That's great, thank you!"
"No, no, I should be thanking you. If it weren't for your guidance, I might still be struggling to find the right feeling… Oh, and my parents sent some candies. I hope you don't mind."
"White Rabbit candies? They're great. I'll take two. You can share the rest with everyone."
"Okay, I'll go then."
She turned and left, afraid of being seen.
Chen Qi shrugged, went back inside, unwrapped a candy, and tasted it.
Maybe it was psychological, but it seemed better than the ones in the future.
He picked up the "Story Club" magazine.
The birth of "Story Club" was quite interesting.
In 1962, the Chairman proposed that the masses needed socialist education.
"From now on, we must talk about it every year, every month, every day, so that we have a clearer understanding of this issue."
As a result, many storytellers emerged across the country.
They compiled revolutionary struggles and red history into small stories and went deep into the countryside to tell them to the farmers.
In Shanghai alone, there were 2,000 storytellers.
Against this backdrop, "Story Club" was born, a magazine dedicated to storytelling.
During the special period, the magazine was renamed "Revolutionary Story Club," but at the beginning of this year, it reverted to its original name, with the title written by the famous Shanghai calligrapher Zhou Huijun.
The iconic cover—a storyteller figurine—wasn't there yet.
At its peak, "Story Club" had a column featuring famous writers, inviting contributions from Jin Yong, Xi Murong, Bai Xianyong, Feng Jicai, Su Tong, Mo Yan, Chen Zhongshi, and others.
Jin Yong quickly wrote a story, but the editorial team felt it wasn't up to par and rejected it.
Jin Yong then submitted an unpublished short story, "The Monk of Ruzhou," which was accepted.
"The Monk of Ruzhou" is a story from the Qing Dynasty's "Thirty-Three Swordsmen," which Jin Yong adapted into modern language.
His "Sword of the Yue Maiden" also has its origins in "Thirty-Three Swordsmen."
At this moment, Chen Qi flipped through the magazine.
The content was mediocre, all handwritten manuscripts.
During the Cultural Revolution, many banned books were born, circulated in handwritten form.
Now that they were unbanned, mainstream magazines disdained such works, but "Story Club" was willing to publish them.
It was indeed a magazine of popular fiction.
Then, he found a call for submissions.
"Short stories, no more than 15,000 words. Stories of 3,000 to 4,000 words are especially welcome."
"Medium and long stories, no word limit, serialized as needed."
"Hmm…"
He thought about it.
He didn't like writing anything too long, maybe around 50,000 words, the length of a literary script.
2 to 7 yuan per thousand words, let's say 7 yuan, that's 350 yuan!
Chen Qi raised an eyebrow.
It wasn't as much as a script, but he had plenty of stories in his head, and the payment cycle was quick.
It was a steady source of income!
(End of chapter)