The Storyteller

"Stories? He tells you stories too?"

"Of course! Whenever Little Chen has a moment, he tells us stories. Everyone loves listening."

"What kind of stories?"

"Oh, all sorts. Sun Wukong, Wu Song, Lin Daiyu, Mu Guiying... Anyway, you'll see when you meet him. Oh, are you looking for a room?" the attendant asked.

"Uh, yes. Do you have any vacancies?"

"You're in luck. There's one room left. Let me see your letter of introduction."

He Chengwei handed over his letter of introduction and work ID and checked in.

This was another reason tourism couldn't develop at the time. Ordinary people couldn't travel easily: they needed a letter of introduction to take a train or stay at a hotel, and they also needed national grain ration coupons. For many, the farthest they ever traveled in their lives was the county seat. A trip to the provincial capital would give them something to boast about for three months, and a trip to Beijing was a bigger deal still...

He Chengwei went to his room and rested for a while, eagerly anticipating the meeting ahead.

As a poem went: "Heaven made an Immortal Cave; boundless beauty crowns the perilous peaks."

The Immortal Cave was a natural sandstone cave on Mount Lu, where Lü Dongbin was said to have cultivated the Dao and become an immortal. In later years, it would be covered with wooden prayer plaques, asking for wealth, marriage, safety, or success in the imperial examinations. Chen Qi had hung one there when he visited in his previous life.

Beside the Immortal Cave stood Laojun Hall, where Taishang Laojun was worshipped.

Two-thirds of Romance on Mount Lu was filmed on location, with the camera following the male and female leads as they showed off Mount Lu's beautiful scenery. But with only the two of them, the shots would have been too monotonous, so Wang Haowei added some tourists and mountain locals, even though there were no tourists at present.

The crew members made cameo appearances as the passersby, and Chen Qi had made a few himself. He didn't mind playing around, but he wasn't willing to act for real; his ambitions lay elsewhere.

Today he was another nameless passerby, playing chess with another crew member in front of Laojun Hall. The female lead would run over, and that was the scene.

"Let's run through it first!"

"Three, two, one, action!"

Chen Qi sat at a stone table with his legs crossed, playing chess as leisurely as a retired cadre with a pension of twenty thousand.

Gong Xue came over from the left, intending to enter Laojun Hall. She pushed at the door and found it locked. Just as she was about to turn and ask, that bastard suddenly spoke up:

"Go on, jump~"

"Asakura jumped, and Tōtō jumped too. So go on, jump~"

"Oh!"

She immediately broke character and laughed.

Wang Haowei scolded him outright. "Little Chen, what mischief are you up to now?"

"I saw he wanted to move his horse. If he moved it, I'd win, so I got carried away. Sorry, Director!"

"You're the one who wanted to act, so take it seriously. Why are you adding lines for yourself? That's called stealing the scene, understand? Who's the supporting character and who's the lead? You're supposed to put the focus on her!"

"Got it! I promise the audience will see her face!"

"Again!"

Wang Haowei rolled her eyes. She had gotten to know the boy's temperament: he talked nonsense, loved to joke around and was a real character, but he knew just where to draw the line and didn't make people angry. He was also very talented.

Those lines just now were from Manhunt, delivered so vividly it was as if they'd come alive. Unfortunately, they didn't quite fit here, or she really would have wanted to use them.

"Three, two, one, action!"

Gong Xue ran through it again and pushed at the door. This time, with no interruption, she turned and asked, "What happened here?"

"It's closed!" Chen Qi said without looking up.

"Why?"

"The Four Olds!"

"All right, that's good! Little Chen, come here!"

Wang Haowei called Chen Qi over and said, "In the next scene, she peers inside through the door, sees the statue of Laojun and bows to it. I think it's a bit monotonous. Can we add a little flourish?"

"Are we allowed to show Christian things?"

"They're allowed this year."

"Then have her make a gesture..."

Chen Qi touched his forehead, chest, left shoulder and right shoulder with his fingers, making a gesture commonly used in Christian prayer. "Halfway through, she stops and realizes she's worshipping an Eastern deity, so she puts her palms together instead."

"Daoists don't put their palms together, do they?"

"She's a foreigner. She doesn't know any better!"

"True!"

Wang Haowei was very pleased. The boy knew a little about everything and came up with ideas quickly; whenever she asked, he had an answer. Working with him was effortless.

After spending some time getting used to one another, their efficiency had improved considerably. They no longer spent a whole day on a single shot; now they could shoot three in a day. Soon it was time to eat, and a crew member pushed over a handcart carrying several large buckets.

Whoever they were, everyone obediently took their aluminum lunchboxes and lined up for food. After eating, they returned the boxes to be washed for use again the next day.

"Turnips and cabbage again?"

"There are loads of wild greens on this mountain. Stir-fry some with a little beef, then blanch some more in water and toss them with vinegar, MSG, minced garlic and sesame oil. One cold dish, one hot-oh, how delicious that would be!"

"Do I look like a piece of beef to you? One cold dish and one hot, indeed. What kind of capitalist joke is that?"

The crew member ladled out a big scoop of vegetables, then asked eagerly, "Great Screenwriter Chen, are you telling a story today?"

"Of course!"

"Then wait for me a moment. Here, here, have another ladle of soup."

Rice soaked in turnip and cabbage soup had no meat, but at least it tasted a little better.

Chen Qi carried his lunchbox over to a rock and sat down. Everyone gathered of their own accord in a circle around him, full of excitement. Once the crew member had finished serving the food, he hurried over to grab a spot too. Good heavens, it was just like listening to a Dao lecture at the Purple Cloud Palace.

Put a few meditation cushions in front of them, and anyone who sat on one could become a sage...

He started with a big mouthful of soup-soaked rice, then said at an unhurried pace, "Now, where were we?"

"Zhu Yuanzhang conquered the lands of Jiangnan, and Shen Wansan took the initiative to show goodwill. First, he helped build Nanjing, paying a third of the cost out of his own pocket. When Zhu Yuanzhang wanted to reward his army, Shen Wansan again offered to cover the reward money himself.

"Zhu Yuanzhang asked him, 'I have a million soldiers. Can you reward them all?' Shen Wansan said, 'One tael for each man is certainly no problem.'"

"He was that rich? Could a merchant really come up with a million taels of silver?" During the break, Wang Haowei was less stern than before and liked listening to stories too.

"More than a million! Shen Wansan was one of the richest men under heaven. Nobody knew exactly how much money he had."

"Then how did he earn it all?"

Gong Xue held her lunchbox in her left hand and a spoon in her right, eating in little bites.

"That's a long story. Shen Wansan came from Shen Family Village, where he had nine hundred mu of farmland and more than ten permanent and temporary farmhands. One year, a great drought struck, and the grass and trees were all about to wither and die. But one of his permanent hands managed to bring back a bundle of fresh grass every day.

"Shen Wansan secretly followed him and saw him go up to a mountain ridge, where a circular patch of lush green grass was growing. The strange thing was that the grass grew back whenever it was cut, again and again, as though it would never run out.

"Shen Wansan found a Daoist priest to take a look. The priest said the mountain was originally called Phoenix Mountain, and that a phoenix would never alight where there was no treasure..."

At that point, Chen Qi wolfed down another big mouthful, then followed it with one more.

"Come on, tell us!"

"That's it. What comes next is feudal superstition!"

"Pfft!!!"

Everyone jeered at him in unison. If he'd been at the Deyun Society, he would have been booed to death.

Before they knew it, the crew had been there for over twenty days, and nearly everyone had grown fond of him. He was generous, warmhearted, good with people and humorous, and he told them stories too.

After all, the masses had spent a full ten years watching the eight model operas and the three war films-Tunnel Warfare, Mine Warfare and From Victory to Victory.

No matter how good they were, people had grown tired of them.

Now that things were loosening up, people were as hungry and thirsty as could be. Never mind Shen Wansan; they would have been happy to listen even to a story about a cat catching mice. But the fellow was very annoying. Every time he reached the climax, he would use feudal superstition as an excuse to stop, then start a new story, over and over...

It wasn't that Chen Qi didn't want to go on. In these times, someone really could report him.

As usual, they wrapped up a little after five.

The group returned to Guling. Chen Qi had just entered the hotel when the attendant came up to him and said, "You're finally back! Someone's looking for you!"

"Who?"

"He says he's an editor from Story Club!"

"He came all this way in person..."

Chen Qi hurried upstairs and knocked on the door. Knock, knock, knock. He Chengwei had been waiting quite a while. Seeing a young man at the door, he asked, "Hello, Comrade. Can I help you?"

"Are you the editor from Story Club? I'm the one who sent you the submission."

"You're A Qi???"

"Yes, my name is Chen Qi."

He Chengwei looked as though he had seen a ghost. He was far too young. Still uncertain, he asked, "You're also a screenwriter?"

"Mm, we're filming right now."

"So young and accomplished! Please, come in, come in!"

He Chengwei ushered him inside, poured him some water and looked him over again. Smiling, he said, "When my colleagues hear about this, they'll be even more surprised than I am. We've all read your Kapok Kasaya. The editor-in-chief sent me especially to pay you a visit and make your acquaintance."

"Thank you for coming all this way. Were you satisfied with the manuscript?"

"It was excellent! We've already decided to publish it in the next issue, which will be out soon, at the beginning of next month. How is the second half coming along?"

"It'll be finished in a few more days. About thirty thousand characters, I'd say."

"Could you tell me about it first, then?"

Chen Qi readily agreed and asked him to eat with him first. After dinner, they came back and finally talked it over in detail.

He told him the second half of Kapok Kasaya: Ding Mo was rescued by Lin Ying, and as they spent their days and nights together, their feelings deepened. Then, through a chance encounter, he learned peerless martial arts, returned to Shaolin to avenge his wrongs and killed the main villain.

Shaolin Temple had suffered heavy casualties and was teetering in the wind and rain. Only Ding Mo could shoulder the burden, so he decided to formally become a monk.

"At the ceremony where he succeeds as abbot, Ding Mo wears the Kapok Kasaya and bows before the Buddha. Lin Ying stands outside, watching him. Only a single doorway separates them, yet it is as though a whole lifetime lies between them... As the saying goes, how can one find a way to have both, to be true to the Buddha and true to you? Ah..."

Chen Qi finished the story and put on a show of heaving a long sigh. Hearing no sound from the man opposite him, he looked up.

Eh!

He Chengwei was crying.

(End of chapter)