Chapter 00091: Four Golden Flowers Are Also Fine
# Four Golden Flowers Are Also Fine
Chapter 91
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 91: Four Golden Flowers Are Also Fine
The "Tai Chi" training class was progressing smoothly.
As everyone became more familiar with each other, the atmosphere grew more casual.
Since they were all martial artists, no one was willing to back down, and they had countless public and private sparring matches.
Ji Chunhua was the first to stir things up.
He always liked to provoke Yu Hai, so Yu Hai decided to teach him a lesson.
Yu Hai's fists, as thick as small radishes, left Ji Chunhua covered in bruises.
Afterward, Yu Hai felt guilty, but Chen Qi comforted him, "If he provokes you, it means he’s asking for a beating. By hitting him, you’ve fulfilled his wish, and now both of you have cleared your minds."
Li Lianjie and Yu Chenghui also had a match behind closed doors.
Though the result wasn’t disclosed, Li Lianjie became noticeably more subdued afterward.
Despite being a national champion, he knew there were at least two people in the group who could easily defeat him.
Chen Qi’s teaching methods were effective.
Instead of giving the actors time to deeply immerse themselves in their roles, he provided them with templates to follow.
He assigned each actor a set of movements and expressions.
For example, Liu Xun, who played Prince Rong, was told to master just two expressions: a kind, gentle smile and a playful, childlike demeanor.
For Yu Chenghui, who played Prince Duan, Chen Qi added two iron balls for him to roll in his hand.
With the iron balls in his right hand and his left hand behind his back, Yu Chenghui would tilt his head slightly—this became his character’s signature pose.
This was a quick-fix method, but it was also based on experience, something that could be useful in other film crews.
One morning, the studio became the group’s base.
Li Wenhua brought in makeup artists and stylists to prepare for costume fittings.
The first step was shaving their heads.
The men paired up and took turns shaving each other’s heads.
After all, a bald head just needed to be clean.
Yu Chenghui was an exception—the front half of his head was already bald, while the back half had long hair, perfect for a braid.
"Look at us, a dozen bald heads! We better not go outside, or the police might arrest us!"
"Especially if we go out in a group. They might think we’re a bunch of escaped prisoners, and the army might get called in!"
"Haha! That’d be great publicity for our film crew!"
Amidst the laughter, everyone changed into their costumes and took photos.
Chen Qi stood on the other side, personally styling Gong Xue.
Historically, she had acted in two period dramas, "Zhang Heng" and "Hua Tuo and Cao Cao," so her ancient costume look was decent.
However, late Qing Dynasty attire was a different story.
Looking at real photos from the late Qing Dynasty, the women’s clothing and hairstyles were quite unattractive.
"This is a martial arts film; we don’t need to be so meticulous."
"Let’s pick two simple tops."
He rummaged through the pile of costumes and selected a pink and a sky-blue top, pairing them with either pants or a skirt.
Naturally, she would wear embroidered shoes and white socks.
"No, no, don’t do an elaborate hairstyle. Just two small braids will do!"
"But that’s not historically accurate," the stylist complained.
These days, films were all about authenticity.
"Martial artists don’t fuss over small details. And about her bangs—can we make them wispy?"
"What do you mean by wispy bangs?"
"Uh…"
Chen Qi struggled to explain, and the stylist grumbled as she worked.
After applying light makeup, Gong Xue stood up in her sky-blue top.
Wow!
Everyone’s eyes lit up.
Li Lianjie even ran over, grinning, "Sister Xue, you look stunning!"
"Your costume looks great too!"
Gong Xue glanced at him.
At 17, Li Lianjie looked quite dashing in his ancient attire.
Everyone loved a gentle older sister.
Li Lianjie wanted to say more, but Huang Qiuyan called him away.
Gong Xue pursed her lips and said, "That kid’s quite interesting. If I had a younger brother, I’d want him to be like that. But in the film, we have that kind of relationship, which feels a bit awkward."
"Why awkward?"
"He’s much younger than me."
"A few years younger wouldn’t be so bad… Hey, where are you going?"
Gong Xue walked away, her sleeves swaying.
Due to the preciousness of film stock, Chen Qi regretted not being able to record the daily happenings of the crew.
Instead, he took photos whenever he could.
After the costume fitting, he called out, "Don’t change yet! Let’s take a group photo!"
"Let’s go outside; the lighting’s good today!"
So everyone, dressed in their ancient costumes, gathered outside the studio.
Chen Qi joined them, and the stylist took a few photos.
Their lively antics drew the attention of passing employees—some curious, some indifferent, and some annoyed.
"Taking a group photo?"
"Yes, Director Huang, where are you headed?"
"Oh, I’m going to the main building for something!"
Huang Jianzhong happened to pass by and greeted them with a smile.
…
He arrived at the main building and entered Deputy Director Zhu Dexiong’s office.
"The script has been approved. You’re a seasoned employee with plenty of experience. After careful consideration, the studio has decided to entrust this project to you."
"Thank you for the trust. I won’t let you down!"
Huang Jianzhong was overjoyed.
At 39, he had spent 20 years at the Beijing Film Studio, working his way up from a production assistant.
Recently, the literature department had found a new project—a script adapted from Liu Xinwu’s yet-to-be-published novel, "Ruyi," and they wanted him to direct it.
This would be his first time directing independently, and it would officially make him a director.
"The first three quarters of the year are fully booked. Once the fourth-quarter funding comes in, you can start."
"No problem, no problem!"
Huang Jianzhong hesitated, then asked, "About the budget… how much can I expect?"
"What, you want 1.08 million too?"
Zhu Dexiong laughed.
"Since the new policy came out, every studio in the country has gone crazy. Every director starting a new project wants that 1.08 million, but the studio has its own considerations."
"Then why does 'Tai Chi' get that kind of money?"
Huang Jianzhong, relying on his seniority, pressed the question.
"'Tai Chi' is a martial arts film with entertainment value. It has a higher chance of selling more copies. 'Ruyi' is a more somber, reflective piece—they’re different in nature. Besides, 'Tai Chi' currently has a budget of 700,000. Who told you it was 1.08 million? They’ve applied for additional funding, but the studio hasn’t approved it yet, and it’s not guaranteed."
Zhu Dexiong explained, but Huang Jianzhong wasn’t convinced.
Still, he didn’t argue further and left the office.
As he walked out, he ran into a colleague who asked, "So, did they give it to you? Are you directing?"
"Yes, but the budget probably won’t be much. It might not even reach 700,000. Can’t compare to 'Tai Chi.'"
"Ugh, don’t even mention 'Tai Chi.' They’re so smug these days; it’s annoying!"
"Plenty of people at the studio are fed up with them! And that kid Chen—heard he’s giving lectures to the crew. I don’t know what the old director was thinking, picking some greenhorn like him."
…
Wang Yang had no idea people were gossiping about him.
At the moment, he was filled with anticipation.
In the Beijing Film Studio’s auditorium, several studio executives and Wang Haowei were present.
The screen was set up, ready to screen "Romance on Lushan Mountain."
Yes, "Romance on Lushan Mountain" had completed post-production.
Following official procedures, the studio would review it first before sending it to the Film Bureau for approval.
If necessary, the propaganda and cultural departments might also review it.
"Director, shall we begin?"
"Let’s begin."
The lights dimmed, and the screen lit up.
The film opened five years later, with Zhou Yun arriving at the Lushan Hotel in a car, reminiscing about her past with Geng Hua, which set the stage for the story.
"…"
Wang Yang watched intently, occasionally murmuring in admiration.
When the film ended, he was the first to applaud.
"Excellent, a fine film. What do you all think?"
"Some of the content might be a bit sensitive."
"We knew it was sensitive when we greenlit it. Now that it’s done, there’s no point in dwelling on it. I think it’s great."
Wang Yang strongly supported the film and added, "That young actress is quite good. Can we bring her into the studio?"
"Are you feeling generous with talent again?"
"Haha, the studio already has three golden flowers. Adding a fourth wouldn’t hurt! Haowei, I’ll leave this to you."
"Sure, I’ll talk to Gong Xue first."
Wang Haowei had already been considering this and nodded with delight.
(Thanks to AcTh, Little Transparent TMT, and Qingya Jian for their support…
That’s a wrap!
Didn’t quite hit 30,000 words, but still, thank you all for your support!)
(End of Chapter)