Chapter 33: The Mysterious Yang Wei

“What are your plans for now?” Xiao Ran stared at Wang Jiawei, who looked utterly disheartened. It was hard to imagine that this man would become famous in Hong Kong just a year later.
Liu Zhenwei shook his head. He knew Xiao Ran had only recently entered the industry and might not be able to help much with many things. Glancing at Wang Jiawei, he sighed, “We’ll see as we go. I’m currently working as an assistant director, so I’m not worried. He doesn’t need to worry either—there are plenty of film companies in Hong Kong, and we’ll definitely find a place that suits us!”
Over the following time, Xiao Ran used his knowledge to share his views on filmmaking. Of course, his words were mainly aimed at pleasing these two men. Wang Jiawei actually just wanted to make something lazy and personal, which could be seen from his depressed demeanor.
Liu Zhenwei, on the other hand, was more difficult to deal with. This director was one of the most unpredictable in Hong Kong, aside from Xu Keji, though his approach was relatively unconventional. Yet, films like “A Chinese Odyssey” and “Infinite Revival” showed his interest in the order and structure of time and space. Xiao Ran naturally started discussing how time and space contribute to a film’s structure.
In fact, Xiao Ran overlooked the fact that Wang Jiawei was equally interested in constructing time and space—most notably in “Dong Xie Xi Du”. To put it exaggeratively, many of his films reflected Wang Jiawei’s fascination with and analysis of time.
Xiao Ran understood many film-making concepts and had a strong grasp of film structure, but practical execution was beyond someone who had never directed. Still, he managed to captivate the two men with his ideas for future projects.
Even Wang Jiawei, who seemed dispirited, asked attentively, “A Ran, do you think something as abstract as time can be expressed in a concrete and conceptual way? Rather than just through vague numbers?”
After talking for a long time and becoming extremely thirsty, Xiao Ran ordered another cup of milk tea before glancing at Wang Jiawei, now full of energy. With countless thoughts racing through his mind, he mentioned masters like Kubrick—what else could he use as an example?
Just as he was struggling, he suddenly smiled slightly. Who said he had to give a direct answer? “As you know, time is very abstract. If the theme of a film is time, it’s not difficult. The problem is that if time is explored too deeply, it may alienate the audience. So, I think time can be used as a tool to achieve your goals.”
Seeing Wang Jiawei’s thoughtful expression, Xiao Ran wiped his sweat and thought to himself: True experts are amazing—coming up with such questions! If I weren’t clever, I would have embarrassed myself!
Learning from this, Xiao Ran didn’t dare delve too deeply into these topics and instead casually talked about scriptwriting. In this area, he was undoubtedly the best in Hong Kong, especially given the industry’s neglect of scripts. Besides, he had twenty years more creativity than others, giving him plenty to showcase.

After talking for a while longer, both Wang Jiawei and Liu Zhenwei looked thoughtful, even their gazes at Xiao Ran had changed—now filled with a hint of admiration. Though Xiao Ran wasn’t stupid enough to be smug about it, he still felt a bit pleased, which was only human.

In fact, Xiao Ran had also been thinking about whether to hire Liu Zhenwei as his assistant director—after all, “Eight Stars Bring Good News” was urgent, and even “Kung Fu” had Liu Zhenwei in charge. But recalling the style shown in Liu Zhenwei’s various films, it clearly didn’t suit the kind of style Xiao Ran needed.

After exchanging contact information, they went their separate ways. Xiao Ran sat quietly for a while before remembering he still needed to meet You Hai. Damn it! He sighed softly, suddenly feeling that meeting future greats like this was quite troublesome. He thought if it weren’t absolutely necessary, there would be no need to go to such lengths.

Actually, our talented screenwriter was overthinking things. Even if he weren’t a director but just a screenwriter, as long as he continued like this, he would definitely become a famous big name in the film industry. By then, many people would want to get to know him. Film companies would eagerly invite him to write scripts, and actors would try to ingratiate themselves with him to get more screen time.

Right now, he was practically groveling, but since people in the industry already knew about this rising star’s habit of making friends, Wang Jiawei and the others weren’t surprised. In fact, once he became a director, he wouldn’t have to do anything—just maintain good relationships with everyone, and everything would be fine.

Fortunately, You Hai was starting work today, so Xiao Ran didn’t have to work nonstop, which relieved him greatly. After a full day of hard work, he had reaped quite a lot. Back at his place, as he was writing the prequel to “True Colors of a Hero,” the phone rang. It was Lin Qingxia, calling about the party.

Lin Qingxia just let out a series of charming laughs, as if waiting to see Xiao Ran’s embarrassment, and said, “A Ran, if you don’t bring a date tonight, you’ll be punished. And bring Xiao Han along too.”

Punishment? Xiao Ran smiled bitterly. He really wanted to know what kind of punishment Lin Qingxia had in mind. But obviously, he had no choice but to go. After racking his brain for a long time, he realized that although he knew many beautiful women in this era, none of them belonged to him or were his favorites. He didn’t even know many women who had nothing to do with movies.

Damn it! That was all Xiao Ran could repeat now. He didn’t even have the energy to write the script; he could only pace around the room. After thinking for a long time, he could only think of two people: Yang Wei and Liu Mei. But he felt he had no connection with Liu Mei, and if that fanatical idol worshipper went to the party, who knew what trouble she might cause.

So, only Yang Wei remained. With a sigh, he dialed Yang Wei’s dormitory number. After a few rings, someone answered—not Yang Wei, but an old man. Xiao Ran quickly asked the man to get Yang Wei on the phone.

Even from afar, he could hear loud voices coming from the phone. It took a couple of minutes before Yang Wei’s voice came through: “Hello, who is it?”

“Xiaowei, it’s me, Aran.” Xiao Ran hesitated for a moment before finally revealing his purpose: “There’s a party tonight, and I’d like to invite you to go. What do you think?”
There was silence on the other end of the phone for about three seconds before Yang Wei replied in a rather calm tone, “Okay, when? You can pick me up!”
It wasn’t too hot in the afternoon. As soon as Yang Wei arrived at the school gate, a taxi stopped in front of her. Xiao Ran poked his head out and waved, “Xiaowei, get in the car!”
After Yang Wei got in, Xiao Ran took in her outfit and found it quite inappropriate. What exactly was wrong? Her clothes were too simple—so simple that they would definitely embarrass her at a party. After thinking for a moment, he frowned and told the driver to take them to a store to buy some new clothes.
Hearing this, Yang Wei, who had seemed indifferent earlier, showed surprise. “It’s for a party, right? Aren’t we in a hurry to get there?”
“You’ll know soon!” Xiao Ran smiled mysteriously. He wasn’t trying to be mysterious; it was just unnecessary to make everyone aware of it. Besides, he still had to pick up Xiao Han, which was a hassle.
They arrived at a store that seemed expensive. Xiao Ran told Yang Wei to choose clothes by herself while he went to make a phone call home, asking Xiao Han to take a taxi to meet them. After hanging up, he went over to Yang Wei, who had just changed into new clothes, and his vision blurred slightly.
What he saw before him was a stunningly beautiful woman. Although he knew Yang Wei was pretty, beauty could sometimes easily be overlooked. His attention to her beauty had been neglected before, but now, dressed in a brand-new pink set, she looked incredibly delicate and beautiful.
At that moment, Xiao Ran remembered the first time he saw Yang Wei. She was getting dressed then, and his slightly blurred vision allowed him to see her clearly. He suddenly realized that Yang Wei wasn’t a child anymore, even though he had always assumed otherwise. The scene before him and what he had glimpsed during their first meeting both proved this.
Now, Yang Wei looked shy, her slightly red cheeks glowing as if covered in a layer of light, making it hard not to feel tender toward her. Seeing Xiao Ran staring at her, she gently lowered her eyes and said, “Brother Ran, what do you think now?”
Before Xiao Ran could respond, the saleswoman interjected envyingly, “Sir, your girlfriend looks really beautiful in this outfit. Why not consider it?”
Hearing the word “girlfriend,” Xiao Ran quickly snapped back to reality. Glancing at Yang Wei again, his cheeks turned even redder, as if they had just been cooked. He smiled slightly—after all, the little girl in front of him was no longer young. Suddenly, he realized it might be time for him to find a chance to date. It didn’t have to be dramatic; a simple relationship would also work.
Maybe Yang Wei wasn’t bad! As soon as this thought crossed his mind, he suppressed it. His mind was immediately filled with thoughts about his career. As for women, it could wait. Love required intuition, and for Xiao Ran, who came from the 21st century, that intuition was clearly more important than emotions.

Xiao Han hadn’t arrived yet, so Xiao Ran had no choice but to sit down at a cold drink shop by the road, ordering something to drink while waiting. Glancing at Yang Wei, who seemed a bit at a loss, Xiao Ran also didn’t know what to say, and the atmosphere seemed to freeze in place.

Taking a deep breath, a faint smile appeared on Xiao Ran’s lips. As if forgetting that a woman’s age was a taboo, he asked, “Xiao Wei, how old are you? Why don’t I see your boyfriend?”

“I’ll be twenty soon!” Yang Wei said, looking at Xiao Ran with a hint of melancholy, though disappointment shone in her eyes. “I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m not very good-looking, so how could I have one?”

“That’s not true, Xiao Wei. You’re very pretty!” For some reason, Xiao Ran spoke rudely without looking at her. “I think anyone who sees you would agree with that!”

“Pretty? I don’t think so. Some people don’t even want to look at me. Is that considered pretty?” Yang Wei stared at Xiao Ran, who kept looking around without stopping, and it seemed as though fire had ignited in her mind. As a result, those words blurted out without thought.

As soon as the words left her mouth, Xiao Ran was stunned, his gaze fixed on Yang Wei, whose face turned red as she wished she could burrow underground. The atmosphere became extremely awkward…

Fortunately, their savior arrived. Xiao Han, the little girl, appeared in front of them, jumping happily and shouting, “Brothers, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing!” Xiao Ran wasn’t stupid. Of course, he could tell there was something strange in her words. He secretly wiped a cold sweat from his brow. “Let’s go!”

*****
Introduction: “Metaphor” — a lament from the darkness, hope born from despair, the conflict between justice and survival, the cries of the lonely behind the light, and the sighs of the exiles!

Ting Feng’s masterpiece “Metaphor” will be released on July 1st. Please look forward to it.

Chapter 34: A Moment of Confusion