Chapter 27: Peerless Beauty

The coordinating task involved arranging the schedules of each crew member and actor, assigning movie showtimes, and, through careful calculation, creating a shooting schedule that saved both time and effort. To put it simply, on the day of shooting, since all the lead actors were present, it was possible to skip scenes involving everyone present to save time.
So, the scenes Xiao Ran shot that day were all group scenes. When Xu Ke announced the next scene to be filmed, Xiao Ran flipped through the script briefly before recalling it. The next scene continued from the previous one, showing two men and three women trying to hide everything from the troupe leader who had broken in.
In Xiao Ran’s memory, this scene was absolutely classic—after all, the entire film was a classic. But this scene was the epitome of classics; the agility shown in a chaotic and confined situation wasn’t the main point—what truly stood out was the remarkable skills displayed, skills that could be included in teaching materials and imitated by later directors many times over.
First, action director Cheng Xiaodong explained the scene, then a few martial artists demonstrated it. After Xu Ke gave instructions to the cameraman and art director, filming of this truly classic scene began.
This scene was neither too difficult nor too easy. Only four cameras were used, two of which were handheld. Xiao Ran and the others didn’t have much to do—just hide on the bed. The key lay in Ye Qianwen’s performance, which needed to create a chaotic atmosphere.
Fortunately, there was an action director; otherwise, filming this scene would have been extremely difficult. Yet because of this, Xu Ke shot it six or seven times before finally finishing it. After that, a meal was served, and filming continued until the light temperature became insufficient, ending the day’s work.
Xiao Ran had observed Xu Ke’s actions for a long time and realized that scene coordination was a crucial task. Scene coordination referred to the placement of sets and characters. This shouldn’t be underestimated—scene coordination often became the key factor in whether a shot or scene succeeded.
In fact, all creative staff were extremely important, such as the art director, action director, cinematographer, and costume designer. Yet everything revolved around the director, with the director’s vision as the guiding principle. The director didn’t need to do everything personally; he just needed to convey his ideas to these people, who could then adjust to achieve the desired effect and reach the final result.
In short, the director was the conductor, responsible for guiding the actors and crew members to work according to his wishes. Thinking of this, Xiao Ran felt deeply moved. At least for him, this experience was incredibly valuable.
After filming that day ended, Xu Ke told Xiao Ran that shooting of “Happy Ghost Meets Ghost” would begin in a few days. Huang Baiming had just called, asking Xu Ke to let Xiao Ran participate in the pre-shooting preparations.

Xiao Ran wasn’t too worried about this. Liang Jiahui’s name was on the writing staff list for “Happy Ghost Meets Ghost,” so all he needed to do was have Liang Jiahui handle the specifics. This would not only solve Liang Jiahui’s financial problems but also his difficulty in dividing his time.

What troubled him, however, was that Xu Ke also told him that “True Hero” would start shooting in ten days, which might cause a scheduling conflict. As he left the set with a worried expression, a car stopped beside him.

Lin Qingxia poked her head out and looked at Xiao Ran, “Would you like me to give you a ride, Mr. Great Writer?”

“I’d love that!” In front of such stunning beauty, Xiao Ran immediately forgot his worries and happily got into the car, which was definitely an antique to him. “As long as you’re not planning to race!”

Lin Qingxia laughed immediately, and Xiao Ran felt as if everything around him had become brighter. “You’re right. I do plan to race. Are you scared now?”

“Scared? Why wouldn’t I be?” Xiao Ran pretended to look worried, shaking his head. “I’m afraid your racing speed is too slow, and I won’t get home until tomorrow!”

They chatted and laughed as the car slowly drove away. Xiao Ran didn’t understand why Lin Qingxia, who wasn’t usually very warm toward others, was being so lenient with him. He knew well that very few people in the film industry were considered her true friends—she only invited a few, like Xu Ke, to her wedding. Though this puzzled him, he didn’t delve deeper into it.

He turned his head slightly to gaze at her face, which resembled a white jade statue, without the slightest thought of disrespect. Lin Qingxia still retained the innocence of a young girl that captivated everyone—Cheng Long was one, and it was said even Zhou Runfa had had a secret crush on her, showing just how popular she had been back then and how deeply she was loved by people.

Now, at twenty-seven or twenty-eight, Lin Qingxia exuded an even more alluring and charming beauty. Her maturity was almost enough to make all men bow to her. In Xiao Ran’s eyes, if Audrey Hepburn was the most beautiful among foreigners, then Lin Qingxia was undoubtedly the most beautiful among Asians, with an irresistible and eternal charm.

“What are you staring at?” Lin Qingxia showed a hint of anger, glancing at the dazed Xiao Ran. “That’s so rude. It’s not like Mr. Great Writer at all!”

Xiao Ran smiled awkwardly. For some reason, he always ended up in such a stunned state around Lin Qingxia. Of course, he could tell she was just pretending to be angry, not really upset. So, he said with a smile, “With such a beautiful Lin Jie in front of me, it’s hard not to be rude!”

“Ouch, you cheeky kid…” Lin Qingxia pretended to raise her hand to hit him, and Xiao Ran eagerly brought his head forward. She didn’t actually hit him. With a gentle smile, she changed the subject, “What’s going on between you and Xiao Han? She seems quite dissatisfied with you.”

“Who knows!” Xiao Ran shrugged helplessly. He really didn’t understand this girl’s mind. She kept sticking to her position even though he had already given in.

Next, he explained the reasons. A smile appeared in Lin Qingxia’s eyes as her red lips trembled slightly. “Even though I’ve only met her once, I can tell Xiao Han is very stubborn. Otherwise, she wouldn’t insist on being confrontational like this. You need to find a way to resolve this—at least give her a way out.”
“It’s very troublesome, Sister Lin. I don’t think it’s necessary!” Xiao Ran tapped his head, clearly distressed. It wasn’t that he cared too much about face; he just didn’t think he could handle it.
“Xiao Han is your sister. What’s there to worry about? You’d give up such a cute girl? How about this—I’ll help you.” Lin Qingxia’s expression at that moment made Xiao Ran think of a term commonly used on the internet in the 20th century—“I despise you!”
What else could Xiao Ran say? He could only shrug in agreement. Back in his own place, Lin Qingxia politely declined his request with a smile, leaving Xiao Ran alone before walking away.
Actually, Xiao Ran didn’t know much about Lin Qingxia. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to know; rather, many things had gradually faded over time. Still, he knew about her two painful romances. Back then, Er Qin Yi Lin were definitely at the peak of their fame.
But after doing some calculations, he realized that Lin Qingxia had unilaterally broken off her engagement to Qin Xianglin the year before. Cheng Long, who had always regarded Qin Xianglin as his most respected elder brother, was the one who cursed her the most. Yet just a year later, he invited Lin Qingxia to act in “Police Story”—the intention behind this was unknown to outsiders.
However, Xiao Ran knew that Lin Qingxia was currently with Qin Han. But unless anything unexpected happened, she would break up with him in September and seem to remain single for nearly the next ten years. Of course, it was just a guess—he didn’t expect anything strange to happen.
In the following time, Xiao Ran was very busy. First, he found Liang Jiahui to take an alias and participate in the filming of “Happy Ghost Meets Ghost,” then he attended the prayer and opening ceremony for “True Colors of a Hero.” According to Xiao Ran, he was so busy that he didn’t even have time to eat.
Still, he managed to write the script for “Eight Stars Bring Good News.” It turned out to be quite difficult to write, especially the final reunion scene. If he remembered correctly, it was a Cantonese opera, and he needed to find out what kind of opera it was.
Actually, he had forgotten that the final Cantonese opera wasn’t part of the original script but was added by the director on the spot. It wouldn’t have mattered even if he hadn’t written it. What really annoyed him was that he remembered this detail right after finishing the script.
Xiao Ran wasn’t unaware of acting. But acting in real life was very different from acting in movies—it was a huge contrast. In real life, it’s enough to just pretend, but in movies, one must become someone else, which is extremely difficult.
As is well known, acting skills are quite abstract. But in a sense, that might not be the case. Every small gesture, every facial expression, even the way one walks—these can all connect an actor to their performance, and this is what’s known as an actor’s basic skill.

Xiao Ran definitely lacked basic skills. Although he went out of his way to buy a book titled *The Actor’s Self-Discipline* by Stanislavski—the very book Zhou Xingchi cherished in *The King of Comedy*—it clearly didn’t help him at all.
It wasn’t really Xiao Ran’s fault. During the golden decade of Hong Kong cinema, top actors either had extensive acting experience or graduated from TVB’s training programs—these were incomparable. And extensive acting experience was an invaluable opportunity for honing skills; the awkward performances of young actors in later Hong Kong films were simply due to a lack of experience.
As an ordinary person, where could Xiao Ran get any acting talent? Of course, calling him a complete fool would be somewhat underestimating him. After all, he grew up surrounded by Hong Kong cinema and certainly had deep insights into advanced acting techniques. Unfortunately, this was limited to high-level skills like those of Wong Chau-sang; in some basic aspects, he was still far behind.
“CUT! Good, next scene is a fight scene—everyone get ready!” Xu Ke called out to the crew around him, then approached Xiao Ran and said seriously, “A Ran, your performance in this scene is crucial. Go and learn from A Dong; let him give you some advice.”
Xiao Ran could only force a smile. Acting was truly not easy, especially action scenes. In this era, performing actions usually required certain physical skills, which he lacked, making it a weakness for him.
The scene they were filming today was mainly a chaotic fight in a teahouse, with not many action sequences, but it was still difficult to execute well. Xiao Ran consulted Cheng Xiaodong before finally getting the scene right. After finishing this scene, his tasks for the day were basically done. Since he still needed to participate in *The True Colors of Heroes*, he immediately rushed to another filming location.
(No more content for now; it will be continued next week.)
*****
Novel title: You Zhi
Real name: You Dazhi
Occupation: Director
You Dazhi is a highly creative genius director with the most unconventional and extraordinary directing style. Wei Jia-hui was his half-mentor and influenced his directing personality. He was once one of Derek Yee’s key assistants, and his directing techniques were mainly influenced by Derek Yee; together with You Nai-hai, they were known as the “Twin Yous.” Unfortunately, he stuck to his ideals and refused to commercialize his work, leading to a split from Derek Yee. He is currently working on TV dramas, with TVB’s *The Legend of the Dragon and the Tiger* being one of his directed works.
Works: *Dark Flowers*, *Only One Can Survive*, *Suddenly*