White Rabbit

"Three, two, one, action!"

As soon as the words fell, Gong Xue walked over with a map in hand, looking around.

Suddenly, she spotted the stone bridge. Her eyes lit up and her feet went patter-patter as she strode toward it. Her red bell-bottoms swayed back and forth with her light steps, as though she were trailing two flowers behind her. It was a lovely sight.

She ran up onto the bridge with a little bounce in her step. The stream gurgled beneath it, and Pillow Stream Stone was right below.

"Oh~"

Gong Xue's lips parted slightly, as if she had finally found what she was looking for. She tucked the map under her arm, fumbled her camera out of her bag, and snapped away. Click, click.

"Good!"

At last satisfied, Wang Haowei called out.

"Director!"

Gong Xue hurried over, her face full of anticipation. "How was that?"

"Not bad. That's the feeling I wanted. Letting you take it easy for a few days wasn't for nothing."

"You were patient with me. Otherwise, I'd have worried myself to death."

Wang Haowei believed fine work came from taking one's time. She would rather not shoot at all than settle for less than the result she wanted. She had taken Chen Qi's advice and told Gong Xue not to think about anything, but simply to enjoy the scenery and take pictures. Sure enough, it had worked.

"Comrade Gong Xue, you're making progress fast!"

Tang Guoqiang came over with a smile too. He had also been bored these past few days. "Director, can we start filming now?"

"We can!"

"Get ready, both of you!"

They were finally filming, and Gong Xue had made it through her first scene. The instant the director called cut, her joy nearly overflowed.

Chen Qi watched from the sidelines, unmoved. She had not become one with the character, but had used a quick-fix method instead. Rather than cultivating her inner skills, she had gone straight to practicing the outer ones, using formulaic movements and expressions to bring out the character.

There were two kinds of acting: acting like a star and acting like an actor.

Take Andy Lau, for example. He had acted like a star all his life. That wasn't to say it was bad; it was quite good. Audiences liked watching him, and he had even won Best Actor awards.

Chen Qi had watched Gong Xue's films in later years and thought the star style suited her quite well. Once he met Empress Gong and Manyu, though, he would be interested in talking to them about what acting like an actor really meant!

Of course, Gong Xue did not know that a certain individual was looking down on her.

She was immersed in her happiness, only sneaking a glance over occasionally.

"Gong Xue, there's a parcel for you!"

"Thank you!"

A few days later, Gong Xue returned to the hotel after filming wrapped for the day and received a parcel in the mail, with a letter attached.

Mount Lu was not very far from Shanghai.

She opened the letter. It was from her father.

"Little Xue, greetings:

Your mother and I were surprised and delighted to learn that you're filming on Mount Lu. You're so close to home! Unfortunately, it's troublesome for us to travel, and we've been busy with work lately, so we can't come see you. Please don't hold it against us.

Take care of your health. Everything is well with us.

To make it up to you, we've included a bag of White Rabbit. Make it last..."

She smiled, then felt a little sad.

After graduating from middle school, she had volunteered to join a rural work team.

She had worked the fields in the countryside and endured the hardship. Then she had become a literary and art soldier and endured hardship there too, walking dozens of li a day without a word of complaint even when her feet blistered.

She had no right to complain. That was also why she did her best wherever she went, striving to be a model worker so that life would be a little easier.

Later, her parents had returned to work, and she had joined a drama troupe far away in the capital. Ten years had passed in the blink of an eye without her by her parents' side; she could only occasionally take leave to visit them...

She had always wanted to be a full-time actress, ideally transferring to the Shanghai Film Studio. But the drama troupe strongly objected to her making films. If the Beijing Film Studio had not intervened this time, it probably still would not have let her go.

The Beijing Film Studio...

Gong Xue held the letter, lost in thought for a moment. She had never actually imagined she would have any connection with the Beijing Film Studio, much less act in such a major production.

She opened the parcel too. Sure enough, there was a bag of White Rabbit Cream Candy, along with a copy of Story Club magazine.

White Rabbit Cream Candy was famous. Its predecessor was ABC Mickey Mouse Candy, made by a candy factory founded in Shanghai in 1943. Its wrapper also featured Mickey Mouse.

Later, the factory was nationalized. Mickey Mouse was seen as fawning over foreign things, so of course he could no longer be used, and the candy was renamed White Rabbit-Disney's legal department breathed a sigh of relief too.

At first, only eight hundred kilograms could be produced each day. It was said that seven White Rabbit candies were equal to a glass of milk, and they were an affordable luxury. When Nixon visited China, he was given a bag.

They were hard to buy, so her parents must have gone to considerable trouble to send her a bag.

Gong Xue loved White Rabbit more than anything. She unwrapped one and popped it into her mouth. After sucking on it for a while, she seemed to think of something. She picked up the bag of candy and stood, then paused and blinked before going out.

"Knock, knock, knock!"

"Little Gong, did you need something?"

Wang Haowei opened the door.

"My parents sent me a bag of White Rabbit. I'd like to share it with everyone, but I don't know how to divide it up. Could you help me?"

"Oh, White Rabbit is a rare treat!"

After a moment's thought, Wang Haowei realized that she was worried about mishandling her relationships with the crew and had come to ask for advice. She readily said, "Since it's a rare treat, stick to the main personnel. One piece each should be about right; no one will take issue with it."

"Okay, I understand. Thank you, Director!"

"What are you thanking me for? I've noticed you're just too polite. The people in the crew are all nice, so you don't need to worry about this and that. Oh, right, Little Chen helped you so much. Save a few for him, as a token of appreciation."

"I understand. Thank you, Director!"

"All right, off you go! All this thanks is taking years off my life!"

Wang Haowei shooed her away. Pressing her lips together, she ran downstairs and knocked on another door.

"Huh? Comrade Gong Xue, did you need something?"

Chen Qi opened the door.

"My father wrote back and sent me a copy of Story Club too, the magazine you mentioned."

"He sent the magazine too? That's great, thank you!"

"No, no, I should be thanking you. If you hadn't explained the scene to me, I might still not have found the right feeling... Oh, my parents sent some candy too. I hope you don't mind."

"White Rabbit! Good stuff. I'll just take two. You can share the rest with everyone."

"Okay, I'll be going, then."

She turned and left, afraid someone would see her.

Chen Qi shrugged, went back inside, and unwrapped a piece. He savored it for a moment. It might have been all in his head, but it tasted better than it did in later years.

He picked up the copy of Story Club.

The story of how Story Club came into being was quite interesting.

In 1962, the Chairman proposed giving the masses a socialist education. "From now on, we must talk about it every year, every month, every day, so that we can have a clearer understanding of this issue."

As a result, many lecturers appeared across the country. They turned revolutionary struggles, red history, and the like into short stories and went deep into the countryside to tell them to the farmers. Shanghai alone had two thousand lecturers.

Against that backdrop, Story Club was born, a magazine devoted to telling stories.

During the special period, the magazine was renamed Revolutionary Story Club, then changed back at the beginning of this year. Its title was written by the famous Shanghai calligrapher Zhou Huijun. The much-talked-about cover-the storytelling figurine-had yet to appear.

At its peak, Story Club started a column for famous writers, soliciting submissions from Jin Yong, Xi Murong, Bai Xianyong, Feng Jicai, Su Tong, Mo Yan, Chen Zhongshi, and others.

Jin Yong quickly wrote a story, but the editorial office thought it was not quite good enough and rejected it. Jin Yong then chose a previously unpublished short story, The Monk of Ruzhou, which succeeded this time.

The Monk of Ruzhou was a story from Illustrations of Thirty-Three Swordsmen, a Qing dynasty work, which Jin Yong adapted into vernacular Chinese. His Sword of the Yue Maiden was also based on a story from Illustrations of Thirty-Three Swordsmen.

At the moment, Chen Qi flipped through the magazine. The contents left much to be desired; they were all handwritten copies.

During the period of the humanitarian torrent, many banned books had appeared and circulated in handwritten form. Now the ban had been lifted, but mainstream magazines disdained such things. Only Story Club was willing to publish them.

They did qualify as popular fiction.

Then he found a call for submissions.

"Short stories: no more than fifteen thousand characters. Shorter stories of three to four thousand characters are even more welcome."

"Medium-length and long stories: no limit on length; serialization will depend on circumstances."

"Hmm..."

He thought it over. He did not like writing anything too long either. Around fifty thousand characters, then-the length of a literary screenplay.

Two to seven yuan per thousand characters. At seven yuan, that came to 350 yuan!

Chen Qi raised his eyebrows. Although it did not pay as much as a screenplay, he had plenty of stories in his head, and the payment cycle was quicker. It was a long-term meal ticket!

(That's all...)

(End of chapter)