Damn it, I'm in the garbage book I wrote

Chapter 836 Spare no effort in its development

Geniuses naturally have their own way of doing things. Now that he has decided to film a movie about the mountains here, Xu Shiji is now preoccupied with how to operate this thing.

He even went to the point of working tirelessly, no longer caring about the emperor's inspection tour, because he knew that the emperor couldn't get the people out of the mountains; the only way out was for them to rely on their own two legs.

But that's how things are. If he doesn't do it, someone else will. And right now, the only person who can replace Xu Shiji in doing this is Xia Lin. But the problem is that Xia Lin doesn't have Xu Shiji's influence.

"I'll write the script for you, okay? You just take care of all the arrangements here."

Left with no other choice, Xia Lin took on the task of writing the script herself, leaving Xu Shiji to handle the immediate problems.

"Can you do it?"

"Who do you think wrote 'A Dream of Red Mansions'?" Xia Lin lowered her head, her gaze passing over her glasses and landing on Xu Shiji. "Don't worry, it's just a mountain version of 'The Butterfly Lovers.' I'll make it up for you."

Xu Shiji was taken aback, then burst into laughter, slapping the table and shouting, "Good! Good! I'd like to see what kind of earth-shattering, tear-jerking story you, the author of 'A Dream of Red Mansions,' can come up with for me!"

His eyes sparkled with excitement and anticipation, as if the fatigue of the past few days had vanished. He knew Xia Lin's writing prowess; he had read Xia Lin's "Dream of the Red Chamber," a novel whose poignant and moving narrative revealed a profound insight into human nature, far beyond the reach of ordinary writers. With Xia Lin on the script, he could fully immerse himself in the complexities of real-world affairs.

"Then it's settled!" Xu Shiji grabbed his coat draped over the back of the chair and rushed out. "I've got enough to keep me busy with the emperor's affairs. Daosheng, the script is yours!"

Before the words were even finished, the person had already reached the door, leaving only a gust of wind behind.

Xia Lin watched his retreating figure disappear quickly out the door, shook her head helplessly, but a smile appeared on her lips. She returned to her desk, sat down, spread out a brand new sheet of manuscript paper, and unscrewed the pen cap.

Outside the window are layers upon layers of dark green mountains, silent and imposing, as if they hold countless ancient stories within them.

"A mountain version of Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai..." Xia Lin murmured to himself, his gaze fixed on the undulating mountain ridges in the distance.

He didn't start writing immediately. Over the next few days, he no longer stayed in the stilt house, but followed a local guide deeper into the mountains. He went to see the villages still clinging to the cliffs, and listened to the mountain people singing ancient folk songs in their rough voices, echoing through the valleys—a vitality completely different from the silk and bamboo music of Jiangnan.

He went to see how the villagers toiled in a thin terraced field, how they struggled to climb the almost vertical mountainside carrying heavy baskets on their backs. He noticed the fleeting light in the eyes of the girls when they saw new things coming from outside the mountains, and he also noticed the old people sitting on the threshold at dusk, silently gazing at the mountains.

These details gradually settled in his heart.

Finally, he began to write.

At its core, the story retains the themes of "resistance" and "love," but the background is firmly rooted in the land he is currently touching. The "Zhu Yingtai" in the story is no longer a refined young lady from a scholarly family, but the only daughter of an old chieftain deep in the mountains. Let's call her Shanling (Mountain Spirit), a mountain sprite—it sounds quite nice. She is intelligent and stubborn, the only literate girl in the village. Through Xu Shiji and her second brother, she witnesses the vastness of the world outside the mountains and can no longer be content with the marriage arranged by her parents and the monotonous, repetitive life that mirrors the mountains themselves.

Liang Shanbo, on the other hand, is an idealistic scholar from Jiangnan who is sent to the countryside. His name is Liang Wenhan. He is assigned to teach children to read and write in these mountains, trying to open a window for them to see the world. He is sensitive and gentle, and seems somewhat out of place in this rugged land, yet he is deeply attracted by the simple and tenacious vitality of this place.

Instead of portraying Ma Wencai, who was hindering them, as a simple antagonist, Xia Lin created a character named Ma Cheng, the future leader of another village. Ma Cheng was shrewd and capable, attempting to consolidate his family's influence through marriage. Shanling's father admired Ma Cheng's abilities, believing he could bring a more stable future to his daughter and the village.

The conflict thus began.

Xia Lin wrote with utmost dedication. He wrote about Shan Ling and Liang Wenhan confiding in each other under the mountain moon, not about romance, but about their shared yearning for the world beyond the mountains and their vague ideal of changing the impoverished face of this land.

He wrote about the fierce struggle between the two after they were discovered by their families. Shanling threatened to go on a hunger strike and leave, while Liang Wenhan tried to persuade the stubborn old leader with his set of civilized world principles, only to be met with a crushing defeat.

He wrote that Ma Cheng's methods were not simple coercion, but enticement. He gave Shanling's family real benefits and created invisible pressure to make everyone around them feel that this was "a good marriage." This kind of "for your own good" based on real interests is often more suffocating than pure violence.

He particularly focused on describing the mountain itself, which is not merely a backdrop, but rather a silent and immense figure. Its majestic grandeur nourishes the people here, while its ruggedness and isolation imprison their fate. The mountain road winds and twists, each bend like a rope of destiny.

In the climax of the story, the struggle proves fruitless, and Liang Wenhan's term in the countryside expires, forcing him to leave. On the eve of his departure, Shanling secretly goes to see him. In Xia Lin's writing, it is at the legendary, highly efficacious mountain god temple behind the ancestral hall, where moonlight shines through the dilapidated window frames, casting cool, dappled light on the ground.

"...I'll go with you!" Shanling grabbed Liang Wenhan's hand, her voice trembling with excitement. "We'll get out of these mountains, we'll go anywhere!"

Looking at the girl before him, consumed by love and despair, Liang Wenhan's eyes were filled with pain and struggle: "Shanling, if we leave, what will happen to your father? How will your family maintain its standing in the village? The Ma family won't let this go... Where can we go?"

At that moment, the fragility of ideals was laid bare before the overwhelming weight of reality. Elopement meant Shanling would sever all ties with her roots and her family, and what kind of protection could Liang Wenhan, a frail scholar, offer her?
In the end, Ling didn't leave. She stood on the high mountain ridge, watching Liang Wenhan's figure disappear at the end of the mountain path, as if swallowed by the mountain. She didn't cry, but felt that something in her heart had died along with that departing figure.

Xia Lin didn't follow the romantic ending of the butterfly transformation. He shifted the focus, and years later, thanks to poverty alleviation policies and their own hard work, a road was finally built connecting the mountains to the outside world. The mountain spirit didn't marry Ma Cheng; instead, she became the village leader, guiding the women to develop alpine planting and embroidery, selling their mountain products beyond the mountains. She became quiet and capable, with the marks of time etched on her face, only occasionally gazing absently at the winding road leading outwards when alone.

One day, Liang Wenhan, who had become a high-ranking official, once again came to this clear mountain forest with the imperial inspection team. His temples were also a little gray. A spirited young boy beside him saw his father looking dazed and asked, "Father, are you not feeling well?"

Then the two met again under the old locust tree at the village entrance. Separated by several years and their now completely different lives, they looked at each other in silence.

After a long silence, the mountain spirit pointed to the brand-new road, a complex and indescribable smile appearing on its face, and softly said:

"Look, the road is open."

There were no tears, no passionate embraces, only this seemingly plain sentence, yet it fully expressed all the changes in things, the regrets and sorrows, and a resilient and forward-moving force belonging to this land and its people.

As Xia Lin wrote the words "The End," dawn was breaking outside the window. He took off his glasses, rubbed his sore eyes, and let out a long sigh of relief.

When Xu Shiji returned, covered in dust and exhausted but excited after resolving various troubles, Xia Lin handed him a thick stack of manuscript papers.

Xu Shiji eagerly began to read. At first, he would occasionally offer a comment, but later his voice grew softer and his reading speed slower, his expression becoming incredibly focused. When he reached the ending, "The road is open," he suddenly slapped his thigh, stood up abruptly, and his eyes were even a little red.

"Great! What a wonderful breakthrough!" He paced excitedly around the room. "Daosheng, Daosheng, you've erected a monument for our mountains, a story with flesh and blood, struggle and hope. It's fantastic! With this script, I'll make this movie even if I have to run my legs off!"

He looked at Xia Lin, his eyes filled with unprecedented respect and determination. He knew that Xia Lin had given him more than just a script; she had captured the very soul of the mountains on paper. And his task was to bring that soul to life on the silver screen.

However, after he calmed down, he fell into deep thought again: "The movie I watched last time seemed to be without sound, but your script has so much dialogue, this... this without sound, even the best scenes can't come out."

"Don't worry, this is already within my consideration. You should get things ready first, including casting. You need to handle everything yourself, as we may not have a second chance."

"In time?"

"I have already sent someone back with a message, and the technical team from Fuliang will be here soon."

Upon hearing this, Xu Shiji nodded hurriedly: "This expense... must be huge, right?"

Xia Lin held up two fingers, and Xu Shiji was taken aback: "Twenty thousand taels?"

"Two million taels." Xia Lin pursed his lips, then sighed. "That's just for the materials. Because the technology isn't mature yet, the developing materials require a lot of pure silver and pure gold, and then they need to be constantly corroded with chemicals. It's a long process with high consumption, and the manpower and resources involved could amount to as much as two million taels. My original intention was to wait two years until the technology was fully mature before doing this."

After saying that, Xia Lin looked up at the majestic mountains and said, "I'm afraid we can't wait any longer. It's not easy in the mountains, and it's not easy for you either. Besides, the filming period alone may take one or two years. You must polish it to perfection, there must be no mistakes or omissions, OK?"

"Oh...what?"

"It's alright. Third Brother, please don't let all these people and all this money go to waste!"

(End of this chapter)