Returning to the 82 Mountain Village: An Encounter with the Journey to the West Film Crew at the Beg

A few minutes later, Ma Dehua returned with an expression of "I knew it" on her face.

"Let's go, Fang Yuan. Director Yang asked me to take you to the station to fill out a few forms. It's nothing serious."

The two rode the cheap bicycle, changed buses twice, and headed straight for CCTV.

A short while later, Zhou Fangyuan saw the solemn Soviet-style building again, its glass windows reflecting the light, giving it a somewhat dignified appearance.

Upon entering, Ma Dehua showed a voucher, pointed at Zhou Fangyuan, said a few words to the guards, and waved them through after completing the registration.

The building was quiet, and the corridors were so wide that you could hear your own footsteps.

Upon arriving at the office, I found Old Chen, a middle-aged man who wore arm sleeves and didn't talk much. Sure enough, he had already prepared several forms.

"Here, here, sign your name. Yes, write down your former employer, okay?"

Old Chen gave instructions, handling matters strictly by the book, and was very efficient.

After finishing, Ma Dehua saw that it was still early, so she took Zhou Fangyuan for a leisurely stroll in the permitted area.

He introduced the various locations: "This is the recording studio...that's the broadcasting studio...this corridor leads to the production department..."

As I walked down a relatively quiet corridor, I could faintly hear voices instructing students coming from a nearby room.

"Remember, this isn't just for show; it's your unique spirit and energy, standing out from the crowd! Let's do it again!"

The door wasn't closed properly, leaving a crack. Ma Dehua peeked closer and immediately pulled back.

She pulled Zhou Fangyuan away quietly, and only after they turned the corner did she whisper:

"That's Grandpa Qian instructing his apprentice. We shouldn't loiter around the door; it wouldn't be good to disturb him."

These old gentlemen have strict rules and high artistic standards; we'll just listen to their voices as we pass by.

Although Zhou Fangyuan wasn't quite sure which master it was, he could tell from Ma Dehua's usual carefree and playful demeanor that the person inside was no ordinary individual.

He nodded and continued walking forward...

By the time they finished shopping, it was already late. Ma Dehua took him to see the guesthouse compound to familiarize him with the area, and then they went home after buying groceries.

Dinner was stewed green beans with steamed buns. Ma Dehua's wife and father finished their day's work.

The family sat together, eating steamed buns and chatting happily. After the meal, Zhou Fangyuan washed the dishes, feeling like he was truly a member of the Ma family.

The days passed peacefully, but for some reason, several days went by and the application for accommodation was still not approved.

The Ma family decided that they might as well let Zhou Fangyuan stay there indefinitely.

In the evenings, when Zhou Fangyuan was enjoying the cool air at the courtyard gate, he would always see that the girl next door coming home very late every day.

The light was dim, and the two of them didn't exchange a word.

One afternoon, Zhou Fangyuan finally received a phone call.

A few hours ago:

Director Yang Jie sat at his desk, on which were spread out clips of feedback from the pilot episode "Exorcising Demons in Wuji Kingdom".

With a worried expression, she unconsciously tapped the words "The performance of Sun Wukong still has a touch of craftsmanship, lacking spirit" with her pen.

The door was pushed open, and the person who came in was another assistant director, Xun Gao.

"Director Yang, you wanted to see me?"

Yang Jie didn't look up and pushed the suggestion over.

"Look, this is the feedback from the pilot episode. Some people say it's great, incredibly great, but anyone with eyes can see the problem at a glance. The monkey is there, but the soul hasn't come out."

She finally raised her eyes, her gaze sharp.

"Old Xun, you're a master of martial arts. Tell me, what exactly is the difference between the soul of a monkey and the soul of a god?"

Xun Gao picked up the leader's feedback, quickly scanned it, paused for a moment, and then replied:

"Form is easy to imitate, but spirit is hard to cultivate... Our form has been honed through countless trials in opera, so there's no problem. What's missing is the spirit in the character's heart."

"Yes!" Director Yang slammed his hand on the table, making the teacup jump.

"That's exactly it! The technique is good enough, but if the psychological basis for the character isn't solid, the performance feels superficial! If this problem isn't solved, the portrayal of Sun Wukong won't stand up to scrutiny!"

She stood up, walked quickly back and forth twice in the narrow space, and then suddenly stopped.

"I'm at ease knowing you and Fengbo are the action directors, and I know you both did your best when filming with Jin Lai..."

We can't work in isolation; we have to consult the true God.

Xun Gao was somewhat puzzled: "A true god? Who should we ask? We've already visited almost every teacher who knows monkey shows..."

"Those teachers I visited were teaching how to act like monkeys! That's stage acting."

Yang Jie interrupted him, his tone resolute, "There is only one person who can clearly dissect and explain the complex character of Sun Wukong, and that is Mr. Qian."

Upon hearing this, Xun Gao hesitated for a moment, then subconsciously took half a step forward, as if he hadn't heard clearly, as if to say, "What did you say?"

Mr. Qian is a recognized leader in the industry, and he is also known for his unpredictable and eccentric temperament. Ordinary people simply cannot ask him to come. So, he called me here because he wants me to go?

Yang Jie understood what he was thinking, and then changed his tone.

"Comrade Xun, this mission absolutely requires you to take it."

Director Yang looked at him with unwavering trust in his eyes.

"You are a proper martial arts performer! You are the eldest grandson of the Peking Opera master Xun Huisheng. You are knowledgeable and can converse with the old man."

Let's lower our expectations; we don't ask for anything else, we just want to point out a direction.

Xun Gao straightened his back: "Understood, I will definitely pass on the message and bring back every word of Elder Qian's guidance."

"It's not just you going. I brought back a young man from Hunan. Let him and Jin go with you."

"Am I bringing two newcomers?"

Yang Jie waved his hand: "I'm good at judging people. These two lads each have their own strengths. Taking them along isn't about letting them talk, but about letting them see with their eyes and hear with their ears."

A highly accomplished person like Old Master Qian possesses an aura emanating from his very being; how much they can absorb depends on their own fortune. Besides…

Our production team can't rely solely on the few of us old-timers; we need fresh perspectives and a pure heart like these to step up in the future.

When Zhou Fangyuan arrived, Xun Gao and Zhang Jin were already waiting for him.

Zhang Jinlai introduced himself to Zhou Fangyuan, saying little but clear enough to be understood.

"Hello, Director Xun."

Xun responded and then spoke succinctly.

"Come with me. Director Yang specifically requested this. We're going to meet a figure of legendary stature. Your task is to listen and take notes, understand?"

"clear."

Xun Gao walked at the very front, his steps steady and heavy.

He wore a clean gray shirt and his hair was neatly combed.

Zhang Jinlai followed beside him, looking somewhat reserved.

Zhou Fangyuan followed at the back, carrying fruit in both hands.

Xun Gao stood outside the small door, his voice not loud, but extremely clear.

"Xun Gao, a junior Peking Opera student and member of the cast and crew of the TV series 'Journey to the West,' brought two colleagues to visit Teacher Qian and seek his guidance on the art."

The curtain was lifted from the inside.

Mr. Qian stood there, thin and quite old.

He was wearing a training uniform, and his gaze swept over the three of them before finally settling on Xun Gao's face.

Without saying a word, he stepped aside to make way.

This small detached house is a converted old-style bungalow, consisting of only three north-facing rooms and two small, narrow courtyards in the front and back.

The group entered the house, where the furnishings were so simple they were almost austere: a few old chairs and a square table.

The only eye-catching thing is the bookshelf against the wall, which is densely packed with porcelain, books and rolled-up paintings.

"Sit down." The old man sat down first in a rattan chair without exchanging pleasantries.