Chapter 17: A Visit to the Film Set

Finally, they arrived at Shaw Brothers’ film set. As a die-hard fan, Xiao Ran should have been thrilled. Of course, before that, he needed to know one thing to understand why he should be.

Later on, people referred to New Art City as the “Shaolin Temple of directors,” producing great filmmakers like Ng Yu-sun, Lam Ling-tung, and Hsu Ke. In that case, TVB was undoubtedly the “Shaolin Temple of actors,” giving birth to true superstar stars and excellent performers such as Chow Yun-fat, Leung Chao-wai, Liu Wah, Liu Ching-wan, Wu Chun-yu, and many others.

If fans from the future came here and didn’t get so excited they suffered a heart attack, they would truly have incredible willpower. At least among Xiao Ran’s friends who were fans, at least nine out of ten really wanted to witness the golden age of Hong Kong cinema.

However, Xiao Ran wasn’t particularly excited. That was because he had been in this era for nearly half a year and had already seen quite a number of notable figures. Even if one encounters monsters many times, it’s hard to feel fear again—let alone humans.

Inside the office building on the film set, Wei Jia-hui found the person in charge and learned about all the shooting schedules for the day. On this information sheet, Xiao Ran first saw Du Qi-feng, who was filming in one of the studios.

Soon, guided by the experienced Wei Jia-hui and You Zhi, they arrived at the large studio. Xiao Ran rarely watched TV dramas, so he wasn’t quite sure what kind of scene they were filming. But it was definitely an indoor scene.

Du Qi-feng was a highly dominant director in future Hong Kong cinema. The Galaxy Pictures he co-founded with Wei Jia-hui had won over countless fans’ hearts. The series of films produced by Galaxy in its early days were regarded by fans as classics and highly admired.

He was Xiao Ran’s favorite director during the post-1997 era. His strong, distinctive personal style and sharp, cold visual aesthetic fascinated every audience member who knew how to appreciate them. Especially “Gunfire” perfectly embodied this style, making it a true masterpiece among Hong Kong gangster films.

What was most admirable was that Du Qi-feng rose to prominence after 1997, while other directors either had no films to shoot or were unwilling to make movies when the industry was at its lowest. Only he consistently directed three films per year, all of which became box office hits. It might not be accurate to say he saved Hong Kong cinema, but during difficult times, he and Galaxy Pictures indeed helped stabilize the struggling industry.

Even without considering Xiao Ran’s fondness for his works, just based on Du Qi-feng’s future achievements, he was admirable—even if his character wasn’t perfect. At that moment, Du Qi-feng didn’t look as fat as he would later; he only had a hint of his future appearance, giving off a sense of transformation as men grow up.

Wei Jia-hui and You Zhi noticed Xiao Ran staring at Du Qi-feng with a gleam in his eyes. The two exchanged smiles, and Wei Jia-hui pulled Xiao Ran aside to sit and wait for the scene to finish. “You want to meet him? No problem!”

Du Qifeng could barely be considered a director who achieved success late in life. He had worked as a director at TVB in his early years, having directed “The Legend of the Condor Heroes.” Due to the poor performance of his first directing project, “The Golden Sword in the Cold Mountains,” he became disheartened and returned to TVB to resume his original job.

Later, he was brought by New Art City to shoot “The Happy Ghost Meets the Ghost,” which helped restore his confidence. By the late 1980s, he directed box-office hits like “Eight Stars Bring Good News” and the classic tragedy “The Story of Ah Lang,” which truly convinced him to pursue a career in filmmaking.

Reflecting on all this, Xiao Ran shook his head slightly, realizing he had overthought things. For now, it was sufficient to build a good relationship with Du Qifeng. It would still take the old man a full decade to develop his own style.

Before long, Du Qifeng finished shooting that scene. He had seen Wei Jiahui and the others early in the morning. Now that the scene was done, he instructed the assistant director to tell the others to take a break. After making the arrangements, he walked over with a smile.

Xiao Ran, who had been observing everything, noticed Du Qifeng giving instructions to the assistant director. He found the bespectacled assistant director quite familiar, but he couldn’t recall who he was. Frowning deeply, he thought the assistant director looked quite handsome, almost like an actor.

Numerous familiar faces flashed through his mind, and suddenly, Xiao Ran trembled slightly, his eyes glowing with excitement. He finally recognized the assistant director as Chen Musheng. Now, he truly remembered Chen Musheng’s background.

Chen Musheng had served as Du Qifeng’s assistant director since 1983 until 1987, when Du Qifeng focused on filmmaking. In 1990, Du Qifeng, along with directors Wang Jing and Lin Lingdong, collaborated on “If Heaven Has Affection.” Out of a desire to promote his old subordinate, Du Qifeng appointed Chen Musheng as the director.

The outcome was needless to say—“If Heaven Has Affection” became a timeless classic. Chen Musheng was indeed highly capable. The Hong Kong films that best captured the essence of Hollywood were “Hard Boiled” and “The Angry Street,” with the former being Wu Yushen’s demonstration of his skills before going to Hollywood. The latter was a film directed by Chen Musheng, an absolutely timeless classic action movie.

There was no doubt that Chen Musheng would become one of Hong Kong’s top action directors in the future. However, in the 21st century, his attempts to make breakthroughs gradually went astray, leading to a period of inactivity. During Xiao Ran’s era, his latest work was “The Crossroads.”

Just as these thoughts crossed his mind, Du Qifeng walked up. You Zhi gave Xiao Ran a gentle nudge, prompting him to realize that the person standing in front of him was one of his favorite directors. He quickly stood up. Wei Jiahui introduced with a laugh, “Ah Du, let me introduce you—this is Xiao Ran, a very talented screenwriter. His debut work is ‘Mr. Zombie’! And this is…”

“No need to introduce him!” Xiao Ran finally calmed down from the shock of seeing Chen Musheng suddenly. Smiling, he extended his hand, “You must be Du Qifeng, one of TVB’s best directors!”

Xiao Ran’s words could be considered true or false. They were true in the sense that Du Qifeng was indeed the best director to emerge from TVB in the next twenty years, but false because he was by no means the best director at TVB right now. It should be noted that filming TV shows is completely different from making movies. In movies, one can pay attention to how to shoot a particular shot or how to use color and temperature, but TV dramas never emphasize these aspects, nor can they. Therefore, TV dramas are the hardest medium to showcase a director’s skills.

Everyone loves flattery. Du Qifeng chuckled and repeatedly said, “You’re too kind. The producer is the most important. As for Mr. Xiao, I’ve watched ‘Mr. Zombie’—it has a very innovative theme!”

Xiao Ran was taken aback but secretly delighted. It seemed Du Qifeng still wasn’t willing to give up on filmmaking. After chatting for a while, Xiao Ran suddenly remembered something very strange. If his memory was correct, You Zhi should be Du Qifeng’s half-disciple—why was he always with Wei Jiahui? With the person involved right here, it was hard to shake off his doubts without asking. After hesitating and choosing his words carefully, he said, “Ah You, aren’t you with Ah Du? Why do I always see you with Xiao Bao?”

The three of them showed strange expressions. Wei Jiahui suppressed a smile and shook his head, saying, “Where did you hear that Ah You is with Ah Du? He’s always been with me, only occasionally coming to Ah Du’s place to help out.”

Surprising indeed! Xiao Ran realized then that his understanding had been incorrect. He smiled bitterly, shook his head, and said nothing more. Although he knew many little-known facts about Hong Kong cinema, it wasn’t surprising that after twenty years, some truths had already been forgotten.

“Who is he?” Xiao Ran felt as if he had suddenly understood something. He hadn’t expected that both You Zhi and the other You were actually under Wei Jiahui’s control. With that thought, he pointed at Chen Musheng and deliberately asked, “Why do I feel he looks more like an actor than an assistant director?”

“He’s Chen Musheng, my assistant director!” Du Qifeng was still very friendly now, speaking less arrogantly than expected, and hadn’t yet earned the nickname “Du the Big Gun.” “He’s quite capable and has some ideas of his own. Shall we call him over?”

Xiao Ran nodded eagerly. Of course! If he missed the chance to get to know Chen Musheng, his visit would be much less rewarding. At Du Qifeng’s signal, Chen Musheng rushed over, greeted everyone first, and then looked at Xiao Ran with a smile and asked, “Who is this?”

After introducing them, the five of them chatted for a while. Xiao Ran asked for Chen Musheng’s and Du Qifeng’s contact numbers and addresses before leaving with Wei Jiahui and You Zhi. Soon they arrived at another filming location, where Xiao Ran tried hard to spot him among the large group of extras. At that moment, he wished his eyes were eagle eyes. But even before becoming an eagle-eyed man, he spotted a familiar face—Liu Qingyun. Liu Qingyun clearly had shed his status as an extra and was now able to play supporting roles.

Xiao Ran couldn’t help but groan inwardly. Good heavens, TVB was truly like a treasure trove. From this visit, he likely gained far more than he could imagine. He didn’t realize that the Clear Water Bay set was where movies were filmed—everyone at TVB worked there, so there would naturally be many future stars.

This time, there was no need for Wei Jiahui and You Zhi to lead the way. Xiao Ran strode lightly over to Liu Qingyun, while Wei and You followed behind, confused. Meeting an actor he liked, Xiao Ran was inevitably excited, but he had already thought of how to handle such emotions.

He wore a faint yet sincere smile, curling his right hand except for his thumb and index finger—a habit he had developed. This gesture helped him think clearly and calm himself down.

When he reached Liu Qingyun, Xiao Ran stared at him as if appraising a national treasure, until Liu began to sweat. Xiao Ran didn’t notice this; he just wanted to praise Liu Qingyun’s good looks out loud! But he feared Liu might think he was mocking him. After all, in the 21st century, everyone knew that one of Hong Kong’s two rising stars was Liu Qingyun.

Liu Qingyun was truly scared of this guy who was staring at him lustfully. He nervously asked, “Who are you? What do you want?”

Xiao Ran snapped out of it and almost wiped his sweat. He laughed awkwardly and said, “My name is Xiao Ran. I thought you looked great and wanted to get to know you! What’s your name?”