Chapter 3: First Meeting with a Best Friend

Over the next four days, Xiao Ran didn’t go anywhere; he continued to focus on plagiarism. What was extremely easy for people in the 21st century had become a source of agony for him now. At first, he didn’t even hold the pen correctly, but gradually he found his rhythm as he kept writing. In the past, he would have dismissed anyone who talked about the “feeling” of writing, but now he believed wholeheartedly that without that feeling, writing felt awkward, as if his wrist was twisted.

Fortunately, some things are impossible to forget once learned, and thanks to his strong adaptability, he quickly returned to writing love letters to pretty girls in high school. He believed that love letters truly needed to be handwritten to have meaning, and he even arrogantly thought that if there were a Nobel Prize for love letters, it would surely go to him.

Of course, his parents and Xiao Han were utterly surprised by Xiao Ran’s extremely unusual behavior. Moreover, not only did he work seriously but also spent nights writing, which shocked the other three members of the family even more.

Our protagonist wasn’t aware that he had become the focus of the whole family during these days. One night, three days later, as he finally completed the plagiarism of “The True Nature of Heroes,” an idea that nearly drove him crazy crossed his mind—he must use a typewriter next time!

That’s right! Why not use a typewriter? Xiao Ran was on the verge of breaking down! He hated himself for not thinking of this damned thing earlier and wanted to pull out his hair in frustration. But he quickly realized that there were no Chinese typewriters in those days. And writing an English script? For whom?

As Xiao Ran pounded his chest in despair, his groans, resembling those of a howling wolf, woke Xiao Han up despite his attempts to suppress them. The pretty girl gazed at the shadows on the wall, which swayed in strange shapes, and felt like laughing. But she soon remembered something Xiao Ran had done before and immediately grew serious.

Xiao Ran felt a headache. He should have gone for an interview four days ago, but he had postponed it. When he realized he didn’t need to do menial work on set and could directly become a screenwriter, he immediately gave up that hard-earned job.

Meanwhile, Zhou Xingchi was still working as a host on the 430 shuttle, constantly encouraging himself and trying to master deeper acting skills. Yet, for now, no one seemed to recognize his talent, and many even looked down on him. But Xiao Ran knew that Zhou Xingchi’s chance would come in 1986.

Yes, it seemed he still had to write the series that would make Zhou Xingchi famous. Xiao Ran thought to himself that, if for no other reason, it was for this talented actor whom almost every Chinese person loved—he couldn’t let him remain unknown.

He submitted the script to New Art City. Xiao Ran was thinking that this job could really exhaust a person. He wanted to try a different approach, but he knew better that to make a living, he had to keep working. Xiao Ran sent the script for “True Heroes” straight to New Art City’s executives—a common practice in the film industry. However, he was well aware that the success rate wasn’t as high as he had hoped.

But he also knew that after “True Heroes” was released in his vision, it grossed 34 million at the box office in Hong Kong alone, breaking all previous box office records for both local and foreign films. It made Zhou Runfa and Wu Yusen, who were once considered box office disasters, famous and established the hero film genre, directly influencing the future of Hong Kong cinema.

Since Xu Ke had planned this film, Xiao Ran submitted the script to his “film studio.” With Xu Ke’s capabilities, he would surely see the advantages. Next, Xiao Ran considered how to get to know some future big names at TVB. The most prominent examples were director Du Zifeng, who would later win two Best Director awards and become a pillar of Hong Kong cinema, along with his team of You Hai and You Zhi.

The most reliable method was to enroll in TVB’s training classes, but Xiao Ran had no intention of using that route to get in. Realizing that joining TVB would require signing a contract, he immediately dismissed the idea.

In 1985, New Art City faced its worst downturn since its founding, even losing its title as the top-grossing studio. Since it had started with comedies, it was unlikely to pay much attention to a gunfight film like “True Heroes.”

So, he thought it was necessary to “write” a comedy script first. “Lucky Star” was a good choice for this year’s top-grosser, but in Xiao Ran’s mind, it seemed like it had been filmed just that year, and its script might already exist. He didn’t want to take any risks.

Damn TVB! Xiao Ran cursed angrily. If it weren’t for TVB’s contract restrictions, he would have gone to any length—even writing “The Age of Heroes,” considered the king of Hong Kong dramas—to get into TVB. After all, there were so many talented people at TVB now. It would be foolish not to recruit them now.

Of course, Xiao Ran didn’t expect to use the word “recruit.” After searching for box office records from 1985 in his vision, he sadly found only one film: “Happy Ghost Meets Ghost,” directed by a filmmaker he had once adored.

Write this then! Xiao Ran was furious. It would have been better if time could go back a few years. Writing this script wasn’t easy either. New Art City had already made two films in the “Happy Ghost” series, and using the same names might lead to copyright issues.

But making slight modifications wasn’t too difficult. The biggest challenge was enduring those days of making a living by writing. Xiao Ran wasn’t used to this primitive way of life. Even if one suddenly returned from modern society to the past, it couldn’t be straight to a primitive society—there should at least be a feudal society in between.

There was a knock at the door. Having planned his next move, Xiao Ran went to open it calmly. Outside were a pretty girl and two young men. Although Xiao Ran still couldn’t get used to the fashion of the 1980s, he still thought the girl in front of him was quite beautiful.

“Aran, where have you been these past few days? Why didn’t you come to see us?” Before the pretty girl could speak, another guy, quite muscular but not very tall, started spouting nonsense nonstop. The three of them seemed quite familiar with each other and entered the house without asking.

From his memories, the pretty girl seemed to be his former girlfriend, while the other two were his best friends. The guy who kept spouting nonsense was named Chen Biao, nicknamed Saliva Biao. The other thinner guy was named Lin Yongqiang, nicknamed Thin but Strong. As for the pretty girl, her name was Rong Xiaoyi.

Since Xiao Ran already knew about these three from his memories, he wasn’t embarrassed. Yet, embarrassment eventually arose anyway. He carelessly put his arm around Rong Xiaoyi’s shoulder, immediately drawing glances from Saliva Biao, Thin but Strong, and Rong Xiaoyi herself.

The surprise in their eyes was obvious, all fixed on Xiao Ran’s hand. Seeing their expressions, Xiao Ran realized something was wrong. His mind raced, but he couldn’t figure out why this had happened.

Saliva Biao glared at Xiao Ran strangely and exclaimed, “Aran, are you actually taking advantage of Xiaoyi?”

Rong Xiaoyi was stunned for a moment before slapping Xiao Ran’s hand away fiercely. With a half-smile, she said, “I can’t believe that after just a few days apart, you’ve become such a playboy!”

These words left Xiao Ran extremely embarrassed. He pulled his hand back in front of everyone’s eyes, laughing awkwardly. He kept asking himself what was going on. Weren’t Rong Xiaoyi and he once a couple? How could this happen?

The group, with varied expressions, found seats to sit down. Recalling past memories, Xiao Ran finally found the answer—a ridiculously absurd one. It turned out he had secretly liked Rong Xiaoyi all along, unilaterally hoping she would become his girlfriend. It was this ridiculous idea that led him to act in such a way.

Having gone through many things in his “dreams,” Xiao Ran wasn’t easily discouraged. He quickly felt relieved that he hadn’t done anything more intimate; otherwise, even if the three of them hadn’t suspected anything, he would have struggled to get rid of such a burden in the future.

So, he quickly said in a joking tone, “Now I plan to turn over a new leaf and stop acting recklessly from now on!”

Xiao Ran knew that saying some things in a joking tone was much more effective than saying them seriously. As soon as he said this, the three of them thought he was joking and started laughing. Saliva Biao even pointed at Xiao Ran’s nose and said, “You want to turn over a new leaf? Haha! Haha!”

“Yes, continuing like this isn’t a solution!” Xiao Ran smiled eerily and said softly, “Do you want to succeed? If you do, work hard. There’s no future in just muddling along. Can you make it to your thirties or forties by muddling along? Can you even make it to sixty? If you want to stand out, Hong Kong has plenty of opportunities. It all depends on how you seize them.”

All three stared at Xiao Ran with strange looks, but Xiao Ran just smiled it off. Now was the perfect time to change the impression he had in their minds. Otherwise, if the scripts he wrote were released in the future, it would only arouse even more suspicion.
Seeing Xiao Ran’s ambiguous expression, the three seemed to realize something and gradually grew serious. Souguo Qiang looked pensive, while Rong Xiaoyi stared at Xiao Ran with interest.
Based on fragmented memories, Xiao Ran learned that Rong Xiaoyi’s parents were businessmen, belonging to the lower-middle class in Hong Kong. He couldn’t recall how Rong Xiaoyi had met them. But Xiao Ran could tell that despite being somewhat playful, Rong Xiaoyi was by no means stupid and even had a sense of masculinity.
“The day before yesterday, there was something at the boxing gym, but I didn’t go!” Kou Shui Biao seemed annoyed. “Now that you mention it, I regret it. If I had gone with them, maybe I would have had a chance.”
A boxing gym? As soon as he thought of this word, memories came to mind. Xiao Ran knew that most martial artists in Hong Kong’s boxing gyms had unclear connections to the triads.
He remembered that before the 2005 Spring Festival, Cheng Long said on a CCTV program that without the Cheng family troupe, it would have been extremely difficult for him to achieve his current success. Moreover, almost all members of the Cheng family troupe came from martial arts backgrounds. If they hadn’t united, they would have long become part of the triads.
Xiao Ran guessed that “something at the boxing gym” must have been some kind of fight. With this thought, he realized that the triads in Hong Kong had intricate ties with the entertainment industry, which was well-known. There were rumors that Liu Hua was threatened with a gun while filming movies in the 1990s, and Taiwanese director Zhu Yanping also had a similar experience.
In that case, Kou Shui Biao could be a great pawn. After thinking for a while, he shook his head—this wouldn’t work. After all, Kou Shui Biao was currently only a peripheral member of the triads, and it was unimaginable for him to rise to a high position.
Seeing Xiao Ran shake his head and look troubled, the three were filled with confusion. Kou Shui Biao asked anxiously, “A Ran, do you already know?”
“Know what?” Xiao Ran was equally puzzled.
Kou Shui Biao looked grim. “Drawing the life-and-death lot…”
Chapter 4: The Genius Xu Ke