Everyone Was Uneasy

Taiwan.

Tamkang High School.

Jay Chou picked a shot he liked from the footage the assistant director had given him, then called for a break.

"Damn it, why are they comparing my movie to his?"

Seeing reports in Hong Kong and Taiwan tabloids placing his Secret alongside The Grand Director, Jay Chou felt a little nervous.

Times had changed.

Previously, Shen Shanden had never even made it onto the board in music.

Four years ago, Shen Shanden had indeed been fierce.

So fierce that Jay Chou could not understand it—song after song that could have been a lead single, released for free.

But before long, Shen Shanden had been crushed. He had not signed with a record company, had not gone through television or radio channels, and had no backing.

This time was different.

They were both singers turned directors. One was a pop superstar with albums and awards, while the other was an online singer. Before film directors, there was not much difference between them—neither was worth much.

Whether in the mainland or Taiwan, film directors naturally held a higher social status than singers.

"Relax, relax."

Producer Jiang Zhiqiang put an arm around Jay Chou's shoulders and consoled him. "His is a purely commercial film. Yours is an art film. You're naturally in an unbeatable position."

Art films could market themselves as highbrow. As long as he did not admit defeat himself, or The Grand Director did not achieve outrageously incredible results, there was nothing to worry about when it came to comparisons.

Of course, by then, Secret would already have been released, and the fans would have paid their money. At that point, it would no longer be Jiang Zhiqiang's problem.

"But I want to win," Jay Chou said.

At the start of the new year, Jay Chou had established his own record company, becoming his own boss and earning the title of "Boss Chou." Now that he was directing and starring in a film himself, it was the perfect time to show what he could do.

Jiang Zhiqiang could not help but feel speechless. The kid was getting carried away.

Shen Shanden was carrying a key China Film Group project on his back, and he was also a student at Beijing Film Academy, the mainland's top film school. In the film circle, he had basically climbed to the very top.

In the film industry, China Film Group was heaven!

Jiang Zhiqiang came up with a way to put Jay Chou in an unbeatable position. "When the time comes, I'll have Paperclip say a few good things about your film."

Hearing the name Paperclip, Jay Chou immediately showed respect and asked with concern, "Paperclip is almost done filming, right?"

Paperclip was a co-production jointly made by several parties: the mainland's Shanghai Film Group, a Taiwan director, Hong Kong Island's Emperor Cinemas, Indo Agency, and Focus Features under America's Universal Pictures.

Before a film like Paperclip, involving China and America, the greater cross-strait region, and the smaller cross-strait region, a movie like Secret, escorted solely by the Hong Kong and Taiwan circle, was simply not enough.

Jiang Zhiqiang nodded. "Almost. I'm about to head to Shanghai. Things are getting on track here too, Jay. Keep your confidence up."

"Is it him?"

John Woo asked producer Terence Chang.

With Paperclip nearing the end of filming, John Woo's Red Cliff crew was doing everything it could to secure Tony Leung Chiu-wai and minimize the impact of Chow Yun-fat withdrawing from the production.

The reason John Woo was paying attention to Shen Shanden was because China Film Group's attitude toward the Red Cliff project had changed.

They had been easy to deal with before, practically granting every request. Now, they frequently audited the accounts.

They kept urging the production to begin, and had even proposed using mainland actors. Huang Xiaoming and Jaycee Chan were both pretty good, after all.

This was outrageous!

John Woo had always had his own little scheme.

Use the mainland's market, the mainland's money, and mainland stars to elevate his own people from Hong Kong and Taiwan.

The Red Cliff project was the culmination of that plan.

China Film Group's demands had crossed John Woo's bottom line. He sternly refused on the grounds that mainland actors had no box-office appeal.

After all, as long as they were never given leading roles, they would never have any appeal.

Still, John Woo felt uneasy. After all, he knew his own situation best—Hollywood had thrown him out like garbage.

When he first came to the mainland, he had also been cautious, constantly observing the situation.

Only after discovering that the mainland respected them greatly, treated them as honored guests, and even sought to please them did his attitude gradually become so brazen.

But if the mainland truly hardened its stance, he really had no good solution.

Terence Chang thought for a moment and said, "There are rumors that Shen Shanden has influenced Third Master, but I don't think that's possible."

John Woo would rather kill the wrong person than let the right one go. "Spread the word through the circle. Hong Kong and Taiwan actors are not to support his film."

Logically speaking, Shen Shanden's "commercialism first" philosophy should have had something in common with Hong Kong Island directors. Yet for some reason, John Woo found it repulsive.

Ignoring Terence Chang's astonishment, John Woo continued, "Get the project moving as soon as possible. Push for filming to begin. We can't drag this out any longer."

He was still uneasy.

Chen Kaige, who was filming The Warlords, was secretly groaning in misery.

Han Sanping had come to inspect The Warlords.

They had talked about the launch ceremony for The Grand Director.

Chen Kaige could tell that The Grand Director was not the real point. Han Sanping was using it to warn him.

Han Sanping suggested, "Chinese wuxia should still have fight scenes. Make the fighting more beautiful."

Hearing this, Chen Kaige played dumb. "I think action should pursue a sense of 'solidity' and 'force.'"

Chen Kaige had gone big on The Warlords.

He had offered an astronomical fee to Jet Li, who had been playing dogs overseas and even paying out of pocket to make films.

Then he removed every strength of wuxia films, and every strength Jet Li had as well, leaving him to perform only dramatic scenes.

He was also one of the northern-bound directors who practiced borrowing someone else's chicken to lay his own eggs.

As a project chiefly invested in by China Film Group, The Warlords did not have a single mainland New Generation lead, nor even a middle-generation mainland actor.

Of the three leads, one was overseas Chinese actor Jet Li, one was Takeshi Kaneshiro, formerly from Taiwan and now Japanese, and the last was Hong Kong Island's Andy Lau.

He had once believed that with them around, mainlanders could never turn the tables in the film circle.

Now, he was beginning to feel uneasy—continually uneasy.

Faced with Chen Kaige's repeated evasions, Han Sanping remained impassive. He even comforted Chen Kaige over the first scene being extended from seven days to twenty, telling him to film without worry.

"There's actually an outlier among the young directors here!"

Charles Perrik looked at the reports on The Grand Director and quickly formed a judgment of Shen Shanden.

Films, especially theatrical films, stood at the forefront of cultural warfare. Among Charles Perrik's concerns, information about the film industry here ranked near the top.

He was the cultural official at America's embassy here, serving as a bridge.

He connected international public opinion networks and developed local cultural contacts.

After reviewing Shen Shanden's background, Charles Perrik suddenly understood.

So he had not come from a directing department. No wonder.

Most of the time before this, Charles Perrik had felt the urge to tear the filmmakers of this land apart.

If he did not tear them apart, he would feel as though he were letting their stupidity down.

Clearly, they stood on opposite sides. He saw them as prey, yet they regarded him as a friend.

They were naive beyond belief.

Yet at this moment, Charles Perrik felt that naivety was better.

When someone not so naive suddenly appeared, it became extremely unpleasant.

Charles Perrik's assistant analyzed, "Shen's remarks show an obvious tendency toward Social Darwinism. Moreover, during an earlier period, his comments on blogs and other social platforms displayed traits inclined toward us."

This had been preparation Shen Shanden made previously for pursuing overseas awards.

In the terms of future Winning Studies, Shen Shanden had been playing the "Surrender Faction."

He had conceded defeat first as a gesture of respect, admitting that he had lost.

We are backward, you are advanced, but we will learn from you, America. We will take you as our teacher and keep striving. Perhaps one day, we may become as powerful as you.

Shen Shanden had tried it and concluded that people still should not eat shit, so he slipped away.

That said, Shen Shanden had merely played the role of an artsy young man, yet he had somehow been labeled an angry nationalist and a paid propagandist.

The truth was that in this era, the influential bloggers active on blogs and similar platforms were all part of the Three-Loss Faction: losers in the past, losers in the present, and losers in the future, unable to win no matter how hard they tried.

Shen Shanden's Surrender Faction, which believed that victory was unlikely but still possible, instead seemed utterly out of place.

Clearly, Charles Perrik's assistant had collected very thorough information and noticed this point.

After the assistant's analysis, Charles Perrik connected it with Shen Shanden's remarks that "a weak nation has no art" and "Hollywood should crush the European Big Three," and he could indeed conclude that Shen Shanden had a strong Social Darwinist tendency.

Thinking of this, Charles Perrik got a headache and began to feel uneasy.