Chapter 00071: A Temporary Farewell
# A Temporary Farewell
Chapter 71
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 71: A Temporary Farewell
"Come visit again when you have time!"
"Don't bother seeing me off, it's too cold. Go back inside!"
The night had deepened, and the group had just finished their dinner.
Zhang Jinling, who also lived in the same dormitory building, left first.
Tang Guoqiang waved his hand and rode off on his bicycle.
The remaining two strolled leisurely towards the guesthouse.
The light snow continued to fall, and the dim yellow lights within the factory area barely illuminated the path.
Gong Xue, still clad in her military overcoat, rubbed her hands together, her heart filled with reluctance to part with "Romance on Lushan Mountain."
Chen Qi was bundled up in a thick cotton coat, with a thinner cotton jacket and a sweater underneath.
Winters in this era were much colder than in later years.
"Are you moving your things tomorrow?"
"Just a few clothes, nothing much to move."
"Oh, then I won't help."
"I don't need help anyway. I'll just pack a bundle and leave..."
Gong Xue glanced at him with a hint of envy.
"I don't have your talent. You're lucky, you can keep living here."
"Just average, third in the world!"
Chen Qi spouted a popular phrase from who-knows-what era and said, "Your performance during the day was good, just the feeling I was talking about. With this experience, you'll handle similar scenes much more easily in the future. Tears come when you need them. You're the most beautiful crying actress in the country!"
"I'd rather not have such a title. It's so strange."
"You're still young. You'll understand when you taste the benefits. Don't forget to practice in front of the mirror when you get back. Practice all kinds of expressions until they become muscle memory."
"I remember. It's called the representational school!"
"Don't underestimate it. 99% of people just make fools of themselves. Only 1% can truly be called representational."
Many people misunderstand the representational school, thinking it's inferior to the experiential and method schools.
But it's not about theory; it's about the individual actor.
The core of the representational school is to turn yourself into a vast storage device, constantly absorbing muscle memory.
This requires hard work and practice.
But most people don't have the patience for it.
For example, Yang Mi had a lot of potential when she played Guo Xiang, but after acting in too many bad dramas, she found that she could get by with just a few expressions.
Directors didn't care, fans didn't care, so why bother trying harder?
When people talk about the "celebrity acting method," they often mention Yang Mi.
Please! She's not even close to the celebrity acting method.
The celebrity acting method isn't about acting badly; it's about consistently delivering 70-80% performance across all roles but never deeply merging with the character to reach 90%.
Don't lump everyone together.
If we're being honest, what acting method do Yang Mi, Angelababy, and Liu Haocun represent?
They're not even in the same league! Not worth mentioning.
"Crunch, crunch!"
The sound of shoes stepping on the thin snow was particularly clear in the winter night.
The distance from the dormitory building to the guesthouse wasn't far, and even at a slow pace, they arrived quickly.
Standing at the foot of the building, Gong Xue hesitated for a moment before speaking softly, "You know I'm not good with words, but I don't think keeping things to myself will make the other person understand. How should I put it? I'm really, really grateful for your help. Without you, I couldn't have completed this work. I don't have many friends in Beijing, and I consider you a good friend. If you ever need me in the future, I'll definitely come."
"So formal?"
"I'm just not good at this!"
Gong Xue lowered her head.
These few sentences had taken all her courage.
"I understand what you mean. It's really nothing. You've also satisfied my desire to teach."
Chen Qi glanced at the building door behind her and said, "Your unit has a phone, right? Give me the number. If I need anything, I'll call you."
"Okay, I'll give it to you tomorrow morning."
"Are you going home for the Spring Festival? Give me your home address too."
"My home?"
"Your home in Shanghai. In case I can't find you, I'll have a place to write to."
"..."
This seemingly casual remark made Gong Xue's heart skip a beat.
A feeling she had never considered before lingered in her heart, but she quickly suppressed it.
She gently bit her lip.
The dim yellow light from the building door mixed with the white snow reflected in her eyes.
After looking at him for a while, she nodded, "Okay, I'll give it to you."
"Go on up. I'll head back too."
"Goodbye!"
They each went upstairs.
Gong Xue returned to her room, feeling a whirlwind of emotions.
There was the melancholy of leaving the crew and the ripples stirred by their conversation.
She didn't know what that guy meant.
Was it just about writing letters, or something more?
She wasn't stupid.
Although she didn't have much experience, she was old enough.
She hadn't thought about crossing any boundaries—there was a significant age gap.
But what if he really meant something more? What should she do?
It was a sleepless night.
...
With the filming of "Romance on Lushan Mountain" completed, the project moved into post-production.
At that time, there were no conditions for on-set sound recording, so everything was dubbed in post-production.
Future audiences might despise the idea of dubbing actors, but at the time, it was completely normal.
The focus was on the overall artistic quality of the work, not the individual actors.
Besides, there were no film festivals to attend.
In "Dream of the Red Chamber," except for Yuan Yang, all the voices were dubbed.
Many actors couldn't even speak proper Mandarin, their dialects making it impossible.
And in "Farewell My Concubine," Yang Li Xin dubbed for Leslie Cheung.
To submit the film to Cannes, the credits deliberately omitted Yang Li Xin's name.
So Wang Haowei would call Gong Xue back to dub a section first.
If it worked, she could do her own dubbing.
If not, they'd use a professional voice actor—but that would have to wait until after the Spring Festival.
If all went well, "Romance on Lushan Mountain" would be released next summer.
As the New Year approached, Chen Qi stopped writing scripts and took a few days off.
He rented a camera—yes, you could rent them—and wandered around the streets and alleys of Beijing, taking photos.
No particular reason, just to leave some traces of his first year in this era, which was also the last year of the 1970s.
"Comrade Zhanying, can you share your hopes for the 1980s?"
"I just hope to earn more money. Every day I wake up, I have over thirty siblings to support. And here you are, not working, just wandering around with a camera. Get lost!"
"Mom, the 1980s are almost here. What are your hopes?"
"I hope you find a partner soon, get married when you're old enough, and have a house. Where are you going to get a house from your cooperative? We can't have a family of four crammed into one room. It's driving me crazy!"
"Xiao Cai, what are your expectations for 1980?"
"Me? I hope for world peace!"
"Old Liang, what about you?"
"Earn more from my writing!"
"Ge You, what about you?"
"I hope the theater troupe stops making me play the engineering soldier who carries logs. I've worn out so many logs. Let me play a signalman or something, at least it's a high-tech role."
"Shanshan..."
"Ahhh, don't come near me!"
After taking photos around, Chen Qi realized that the general public's quality needed improvement.
They couldn't even come up with decent responses.
Finally, he found Wang Yang.
Wang Yang was sitting in his office and smiled, "What have you been up to these past few days, running around?"
"Just leaving some traces. Don't move, let me take your photo!"
Chen Qi indeed took a photo of him.
These images would become historical materials in the future, precious treasures.
"I've looked into Yang Luchan's descendants. They're rebuilding his tomb. You can write about it. Are you going home for the New Year?"
"Yes, I am."
"Then you'd better finish the script by January, or the Spring Festival will delay things."
"I'll definitely finish it by January, don't worry... By the way, what are your hopes for 1980?"
"Ha! I don't have any big wishes. I just hope Chinese cinema gets better and the system reforms sooner!" Wang Yang laughed.
Reform?
Chen Qi was momentarily stunned, then quickly understood.
He smiled and left.
Alone in the room, Wang Yang spread out a thick stack of documents on his desk.
It contained all the income and expenses of the Beijing Film Studio for the year, as well as the budgets for some films scheduled to start next year.
(End of chapter...)