Chapter 32: Fellow Strugglers

“Wait a moment, you two!” Xiao Ran, who rushed out of the office like a whirlwind, spotted the two dejected men at once and called out to them. The two stopped in shock, astonished to see Xiao Ran approach them as if he were a martial arts expert.
“Writer Xiao, what do you need?” Wang Jiawei was in a very low mood—anyone would be. So, it was Liu Zhenwei who spoke.
“Do you know me?” Xiao Ran was surprised. He was just a moderately famous writer, not a big name at all.
Liu Zhenwei gave Xiao Ran a strange look, blinked, and smiled sadly. “You’re the famous ‘20 million yuan writer’—who in this industry doesn’t know that?”
“Well, I have something to talk to you about. Would you be willing to have lunch with me?” Xiao Ran smiled faintly, inwardly cursing whoever gave him such a ridiculous nickname—it was utterly tacky. After all, our protagonist aspired to be known as an Oscar-winning writer.
Wang Jiawei and Liu Zhenwei exchanged glances, both seeing clear confusion in each other’s eyes. They clearly didn’t understand Xiao Ran’s intentions. Of course, if they had known he could become famous so quickly in two years, they would have understood his motives.
In any case, they had no reason to refuse this famous writer. Although Xiao Ran didn’t think he was that famous, Wang Jiawei and Liu Zhenwei knew how renowned this younger man was. So, both nodded in agreement.
After agreeing on a time and place, Xiao Ran headed toward Huang Bai Ming’s office, feeling somewhat relieved. Of course, he was also a bit proud—meeting these two big names was truly lucky. It would be even better if he could win them over.
Suddenly, Xiao Ran’s body trembled, and regret flashed in his eyes. He thought of something—something extremely bad. Wang Jiawei was definitely someone he couldn’t afford to provoke, at least not right now.
The whole world knew Wang Jiawei had an extremely bizarre habit: his filming schedules were painfully slow. It took five years just to finish *2046*, producing a film that wasn’t even very good. Of course, Xiao Ran didn’t take that seriously.
Most importantly, everyone knew how wasteful Wang Jiawei was with money. His big-budget film *Ashes of Time* failed miserably in Hong Kong, resulting in huge losses. The investor, Deng Guangrong, was so enraged that he vomited blood and was rushed to the hospital to save his life.
Xiao Ran didn’t think he had that much blood to vomit, nor did he have tens of millions or even hundreds of millions to waste on Wang Jiawei. These days, a film costing ten million was already equivalent to a big-budget project costing fifty million, let alone thirty or forty million.
If Xiao Ran had thirty or forty million to give Wang Jiawei for a film, it would be better to use that money to make ten medium-budget films, which would definitely be profitable. Or else, he could use that money to make a film with a cast ten times stronger than that of *Infernal Affairs*. Investing in Wang Jiawei? That was pure nonsense. Xiao Ran certainly didn’t want to die from vomiting blood.

However, if Wang Jiawei could team up with Liu Zhenwei, Xiao Ran might consider it. This famous director, Liu Zhenwei, is well-known throughout the mainland and seems to exist solely to serve Wang Jiawei. After the failure of “Dong Xie Xi Du,” Liu Zhenwei immediately used the same team to shoot “Dong Cheng Xi Jiu,” and its decent box office earnings managed to offset some of the losses.

It wasn’t just this film; ever since these two partners founded Zedong Film Company, Liu Zhenwei has repeatedly bailed Wang Jiawei out, leading to the creation of many films. In short, in Xiao Ran’s view, no amount of awards won by Wang Jiawei can make up for his commercial failures, while Liu Zhenwei, capable both in commercial and artistic terms, is a talent he can never afford to lose.

While thinking about Wang Jiawei’s “glorious achievements,” Xiao Ran came up with a very sinister but yet unrefined idea. He cunningly thought that if he ever founded a company and faced strong competitors, he could have Wang Jiawei make movies for them, surely weakening the company’s strength. Just like Ng Mui-son’s “The Message” almost bankrupted MGM, or Xu Ke’s “Shu Shan Zhuan” nearly ruined China Star.

Of course, this was just a plan, not yet reality. For now, Xiao Ran’s goal was to become a successful director, amassing enough capital and popularity in the industry before founding his own company. He didn’t want to be repeatedly rejected by the Golden Horse Awards like Du Qifeng due to poor relationships.

Back in Huang Baiming’s office, Xiao Ran saw that Huang Baiming was busy with something else. When Huang Baiming noticed him, he quickly said, “By the way, Aran, come with me to the recording studio.”

On the way, Xiao Ran asked about Wang Jiawei and Liu Zhenwei, and finally understood everything from Huang Baiming. It turned out both of them graduated from TVB, initially working there before being borrowed by Huang Baiming. Wang Jiawei was supposed to be writing the script for a new film, but he kept the entire crew waiting for a whole month without producing a single word.

When Huang Baiming met Wang Jiawei, he demanded that he deliver the script within three days. The day before, Wang Jiawei finally submitted his script, which enraged Huang Baiming upon sight. In his opinion, it wasn’t even a script—it was pure trash. On the other hand, Liu Zhenwei was quite helpful, repeatedly submitting assignments for Wang Jiawei, which is how they reached this point.

As for Liu Zhenwei, he was currently working as an assistant director and occasionally writing scripts. Xiao Ran couldn’t help but sneer secretly—waiting for Wang Jiawei’s script? Let it wait forever. He knew better than anyone in this world that Wang Jiawei simply couldn’t adapt to the fast-paced environment of Hong Kong cinema.

Upon arriving at the recording studio, Xiao Ran immediately spotted Zhang Manyu and Du Qifeng. He suddenly remembered that Huang Baiming was also one of the main actors in “Happy Ghost Meets Ghost,” which made him laugh. It reminded him of his own past—when he was naive and became obsessed with that series after watching it, often calling himself a “happy ghost” when playing with friends. Thinking about it, Xiao Ran realized he was really lucky.

It wasn’t the first time Xiao Ran and Zhang Manyu met; they had become quite familiar while shooting “Police Story,” and he was also close to Du Qifeng. When they saw each other this time, they didn’t waste words and simply nodded as a greeting. Recording studios usually require silence, so it’s best to avoid talking if possible.

What they were recording now was in Cantonese; for Mandarin, professional voice actors would be hired. This voice work didn’t take much time. The reason Huang Baiming brought Xiao Ran along was so that the “creator” could determine the emotions and tone needed for certain lines. Although this mainly depended on the director’s preference, the screenwriter’s opinion was also important sometimes.

After finishing their tasks for the morning, they left the recording studio together. Xiao Ran was thinking about whether to remind Huang Baiming not to make another sequel of “Happy Ghost,” but after recalling that the last episode of “Happy Ghost” seemed to have been filmed in the 1990s, he decided it wasn’t urgent.

His gaze shifted to Zhang Manyu, and suddenly he remembered Yi Shu’s comment about her: “She’s beautiful, but soulless.” These simple words aptly described Zhang Manyu’s current state. Yet no one could have imagined how great achievements this “soulless” woman would achieve in the future.

“Aran, let’s go have lunch together,” Huang Baiming said with a cheerful smile after glancing at the three of them. “I know there’s a great restaurant nearby!”

“No thanks!” Xiao Ran shook his head with a smile. He had an appointment with the other two. “You go ahead. Ah Yu, be careful with your diet—don’t get fat! Otherwise, I won’t love you anymore.”

He had known since shooting “Police Story” that Zhang Manyu was very attentive to her figure, so he joked about it. As expected, Zhang Manyu laughed and lightly tapped Xiao Ran. “What are you talking about? Hurry up and go! By the way, Sister Xia is having a party to celebrate her move-in today. Are you coming? But she said she needs a date. Since you don’t have one, you definitely can’t go this time!”

“No problem!” Xiao Ran tried to pull off an age-appropriate face. “I’ll ask you to be my date. You won’t be so cruel as to refuse me, right?”

Zhang Manyu pretended to be angry and kicked at him. Xiao Ran nimbly dodged, laughed heartily, and left with a remark: “What a powerful kick! I surrender! I’m escaping!”

The remaining three found it quite funny. Of course, that wasn’t Xiao Ran’s concern. He was hurrying to the place where he had an appointment with Putao and the others. It was just a small tea restaurant, and Putao and the others seemed impatient, constantly checking their watches.

Xiao Ran walked in calmly, sat down, and sighed before saying, “Sorry, I’m late because of something.”

“No worries!” It was Wang Jiawei who spoke. Since the old man was so patient when filming movies, he probably didn’t mind the delay.

After ordering a milk tea, Xiao Ran glanced at the two people in front of him and smiled slightly. “I know about your situation. Actually, you don’t need to be discouraged. No one knows the future. As long as you have the ability, you’ll surely be able to realize your ambitions someday!”

He found his own tone amusing. What kind of formidable people were these two in front of him, and yet he was speaking to them in such a senior-like tone. The two showed slight gratitude and thanked Xiao Ran.
Xiao Ran waved his fingers slightly in front of him, his expression indifferent: “There’s no need for such formalities. You two are screenwriters. If you write something good, maybe I can recommend it to them!”
“Really? Then thank you so much!” Wang Jiawei still seemed listless, while Liu Zhenwei was somewhat excited. Although this guy was younger than him, he knew that Xiao Ran was quite famous in the industry—not only because the scripts he wrote were bestsellers but also because this kid hadn’t graduated from any film school or learned how to be a screenwriter. Many people called him a genius!
Of course, the two of them were still skeptical. Xiao Ran didn’t care about their doubts; truth would prove everything. Thinking about the three major film companies and two major studios at the moment, in his impression, Golden Harvest didn’t seem quite suitable for these two’s style. Diamond Film mostly focused on urban comedies and female-oriented films, while only Baohe under Golden Harvest was good at horror and zombie movies.
As for Xu Ke’s film studio and Mai Dangxiong’s film studio, they were the most creative studios from the mid-to-late 1980s to the early 1990s, but their styles clearly didn’t suit Liu Zhenwei and the others either. How to place these two was a real headache for Xiao Ran.
*****
Novel name — Xu Ke
Real name — Tsui Hark
Occupation: Director, Producer
If you’ve never watched any Hong Kong movies or heard of Tsui Hark’s name, it’s forgivable. But if you’ve watched them and still don’t know him, that’s pure ignorance. Tsui Hark is a genius and a freak of nature in Hong Kong. Although *A Hero Among Us* was mainly Wu Yussun’s success, Tsui Hark, as the producer, also contributed greatly. In fact, it’s hard to describe what kind of director he is; the answer can only be found in his movies.
Works: *The Legend of the Condor Heroes*, *The Smiling, Proud Wanderer*, *The Smiling, Proud Wanderer: The Eastern Immortal*, *New Dragon Inn*, *Ip Man*, and countless other classics. Novel name — Shi Nansheng
Real name — Shi Nansheng
Occupation: The woman behind Tsui Hark
She is Tsui Hark’s wife and also his strongest supporter. Without Shi Nansheng managing his finances and everything else, we probably wouldn’t have seen many of his classic works.