Rebirth 02, the Celestial Being Told Me to Stop Pretending

On the day the column was published, Lu Chen made a special trip to the newsstand.

The cover of this issue of "Film World" features a black-and-white photograph of a foreign director; the paper is yellowish and has a faint smell of ink.

Lu Chen flipped to the table of contents and saw his article title: "Why Chinese Cinema Needs More Genre Films," signed Lu Chen.

He bought one for two yuan and fifty cents.

Back in my dorm, I opened the article. The layout had a few more subheadings than the original, but the content, viewpoints, and logical arguments remained unchanged.

Editor Zhou is a man of his word.

Wang Yan leaned over for a look: "Brother Lu, you're in a magazine?"

"Um."

"Wow, how much is the royalties?"

"Six hundred."

Wang Yan's eyes lit up: "That's enough to eat in the cafeteria for three months!"

Zhao Bo poked his head out from the top bunk: "How's the article coming along?"

"You'll see when you take a look." Lu Chen tossed the magazine to him.

Zhao Bo took the magazine, turned to the article, and read it for about ten minutes.

After reading it, he closed the magazine.

"You're just trying to create hype for yourself."

"Um."

"You mentioned multi-narrative structure and dark humor in your article. Is this the direction for your next film?"

"Yes. Let the industry know what I'm going to do first, so that when I actually present my project, they won't feel surprised."

Zhao Bo thought for a moment and nodded.

"But there's one thing," Zhao Bo said, "you have to be able to do what you write in your articles."

"We already have a direction," Lu Chen said.

That afternoon, Lu Chen received a call from Yang Lin.

"Lu Chen, the production team of 'The Story of a Noble Family' has contacted our department, saying they'd like to invite you over. The director is very interested in your column article."

Lu Chen was taken aback. Of course he knew about "The Story of a Noble Family," and Liu Yifei was in that production team.

To his surprise, the production team contacted him because of his column article, not because of the short film.

"When?"

"Tomorrow afternoon."

"it is good."

After hanging up the phone, Lu Chen stood by the window and thought for a while.

He knew what going to the film set meant; it wasn't just about meeting the director, but also about seeing Liu Yifei.

Last time, she borrowed fifty yuan from him on the bleachers of the playground. Later, he used that fifty yuan to pay the venue fee for the tenement building, and he still hasn't paid it back.

The money owed to Tianxian will have to be repaid sooner or later, but not now, and not in this way.

The next afternoon, Lu Chen took a bus to the Beijing Film Studio.

He was still wearing the same outfit: a white shirt, khaki straight-leg trousers, and an old brown belt.

The shirt has been washed too many times, and the collar is a bit soggy, but the two-centimeter-low curve is still there. Combined with the way it's worn without being tucked into the pants, it still looks effortlessly chic.

Several vans and a Toyota Coaster were parked in front of the Beijing Film Studio, with the title of the TV series "The Story of a Noble Family" on them.

Lu Chen gave his name to the gatekeeper and was allowed to enter.

When Lu Chen arrived, Liu Yifei was filming a crying scene.

She was dressed in a student uniform from the Republican era, her hair tied in two braids, sitting on an old-fashioned chair, opposite Chen Kun.

After the director yelled "Action!", she started crying, but her crying didn't feel right.

"Cut!" the director yelled.

"Yifei, your mood isn't right, let's do one more take."

Liu Yifei wiped away her tears, took a deep breath, and readjusted her emotions.

The second point is still incorrect.

The director shook his head at the third option.

Article 4, Article 5, Article 6...

They filmed over a dozen takes, but the director was still not satisfied. Liu Yifei's eyes were already swollen, and the makeup artist touched up her makeup three times, each time only to have it ruined by tears.

"His eyes are swollen like peaches," the assistant director muttered under his breath.

Lu Chen stood behind the monitor and watched for a while.

Liu Yifei's crying scenes weren't due to a lack of emotion, but rather the wrong direction of her gaze. Every time she cried, she stared directly at the other person, her eyes looking forward as the tears streamed down, as if she were confronting them.

However, the character in this scene is a reserved female student from the Republican era; she shouldn't look directly at him, she should avoid him.

Lu Chen walked over to the director.

"Director Li, may I say a few words?"

The director looked up and glanced at him.

He was in his fifties, with gray hair, wearing a baseball cap, and his face showed the weariness typical of long hours of filming.

"Who are you?"

"The sinking of Beijing Film Academy".

The director remembered: "Oh, right, Xiao Lu, you go first."

"I think the problem isn't with emotions, it's with the look in his eyes." Lu Chen's voice wasn't loud, but it was very clear.

"Liu Yifei's eyes are not right right now, but this character is a female student in the Republican era, so she should be more reserved. I suggest that she look 3 centimeters to the lower left before she sheds tears."

The director paused for a moment, then said, "3 centimeters off?"

"Yes, just 3 centimeters. This angle can show both shyness and sincerity."

Lu Chen held up his finger to indicate.

"If you look directly at the tears, the impact is too strong, and the audience will feel that this character is inconsistent with the personality that has been built up before. If you look at them from 3 centimeters away, the tears will slide down the cheeks instead of welling up in the eyes, which is a softer visual effect and is more in line with the character."

Director Li was skeptical, but after shooting more than a dozen takes without success, he decided to give it a try.

"Yifei, try shifting your gaze slightly to the lower left, by 3 centimeters," the director shouted to the set.

Liu Yifei glanced at the director, then at Lu Chen standing next to him.

Her eyes were still red, with undried tears clinging to her eyelashes, but there was a hint of surprise in her gaze.

She didn't ask why, and just did as she was told.

Next item.

When the director yelled "Action!", Liu Yifei took a deep breath, her eyes reddened, and tears welled up in the corners of her eyes for about two seconds before slowly sliding down her cheeks.

Her gaze was slightly tilted to the lower left, not deliberately avoiding the look, but instinctively darting away, as if she dared not face the person opposite her, yet couldn't help but want to look.

"Pass!"

The director shouted, his tone clearly relieved.

He turned to look at Lu Chen and nodded: "You've got something, Lu."

After the scene was filmed, Liu Yifei walked up to Lu Chen.

Her eyes were still red, with a few undried tear stains clinging to her eyelashes, but the corners of her mouth were already turned up.

"How do you know that 3 centimeters off is correct?" she asked, tilting her head. Her tone wasn't questioning, but rather like a cat that had discovered something interesting.

"I guessed."

Liu Yifei stared at him for two seconds, then scoffed, "You're kidding me."

"Okay, it wasn't a guess." Lu Chen raised his hands.

"It's obvious you didn't pay attention in class. Acting theory class mentioned the influence of eye direction on emotional expression. Direct eye contact represents confrontation, while a sideways glance represents avoidance. 3 centimeters is an angle that's right between confrontation and avoidance."

"3 centimeters?" Liu Yifei held up a finger in front of her eyes. "You can tell from such a tiny bit?"

"The audience may not be able to say it, but they can sense it."

Liu Yifei lowered her hand, nodded thoughtfully, and then suddenly tilted her head to look at him: "You seem to know a lot about acting."

"I know a little bit."

"You always say you know a little bit," Liu Yifei mimicked his tone, lowering her voice slightly. "Last time on the playground, you also said you knew a little bit, but you ended up explaining Bai Xiuzhu's teachings to me completely. Just how much do you actually know?"

Looking into her bright eyes, Lu Chen thought to himself that this girl had a really good memory and could always accurately catch the loopholes in his words.

"Not much, just enough."

Liu Yifei snorted, clearly not believing her, but didn't press the matter further.

She glanced down at her costume, then suddenly looked up as if she'd remembered something and asked, "Have you eaten?"

Lu Chen patted his pockets. The column fee hadn't arrived yet, and he only had about thirty yuan left in his wallet, enough for a meal at the cafeteria, but eating out would be a bit tight.

"not yet."

"Let's go then," Liu Yifei said. "There's a small restaurant next to the film set; the food is alright."

Lu Chen did not refuse.

The two walked out of the film set, walked along the wall of the Beijing Film Studio for a while, and then turned into a small alley.

Liu Yifei walked ahead, having changed out of her costume. She was wearing a white sweatshirt and jeans, her hair still slightly wavy from being unbraided, swaying in the October evening breeze.

The restaurant was small, with a red lantern hanging at the entrance that read "Old Zhang's Home-Style Dishes".

Pushing open the door, I found that half of the six tables were occupied, and handwritten menus were posted on the wall, with prices not much more expensive than those in the school cafeteria.

Liu Yifei picked up the menu, her finger pausing briefly on the most expensive braised sea bass on the first page, glancing at Lu Chen out of the corner of her eye.

Lu Chen remained unfazed.

She turned another page, her finger lingering on the boiled fish, and glanced at him again.

Lu Chen remained expressionless.

Liu Yifei's lips curled up slightly as she closed the menu and said to the owner, "Kung Pao Chicken, stir-fried cabbage with vinegar, and tomato and egg soup."

Three home-style dishes, totaling less than thirty yuan.

Lu Chen glanced at her.

"What are you looking at?" Liu Yifei pushed the menu aside. "I wanted to eat these anyway."

"You stared at the braised sea bass for three seconds."

"How come you even counted this?"

"Occupational disease".

Liu Yifei glared at him, but didn't suppress the corners of her mouth.

"You don't need to look at the price," Liu Yifei said. "It's on me today."

After the dishes were served, Liu Yifei picked up a piece of diced chicken with tomato sauce, chewed it a couple of times, and suddenly asked, "You seem indifferent to everything. The short film went viral, but you didn't care. Your magazine column was published, but you didn't care. You helped me on set just now, and you said it was nothing. What exactly do you care about?"

Lu Chen looked at her and thought for a moment.

"The things I care about, I can't do right now."

"What is it?"

"Make a real movie."

Liu Yifei put down her chopsticks and looked at him seriously: "What do you want to film?"

"A low-budget comedy. Dark humor, multi-narrative structure, about a group of people getting into all sorts of mishaps because of a stone."

"That sounds interesting." Liu Yifei tilted her head. "Why a stone?"

"Because stones are worthless, but people will do the most absurd things for worthless things."

Liu Yifei thought for a moment, nodded, and then asked, "Then why is it a comedy?"

"Because the Chinese people have suffered so much, they need to laugh."

Liu Yifei nodded again, this time even slower, as if she was processing the words.

She lowered her head to take a sip of soup, then looked up at him: "No money, no one, what are you planning to do?"

"There are plenty of ways to deal with it. A living person can't just die from holding their pee, can they?"

"Vulgar." Liu Yifei poked at the rice in her bowl with her chopsticks. "Just stay alive, just stay alive... Do you have any other words?"

"Of course...no."

Liu Yifei rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth were turned up.

She looked at him, her gaze sweeping from his shirt collar to his belt buckle, and then back to his face.

"You're dressed like this," Liu Yifei said, "you don't look like someone who's broke at all."

"Taste isn't something you can buy with money. It's best to refrain from judging other people's taste based on your own, haha."

Lu Chen laughed out loud as he spoke. Those who know about Tianxian's fashion sense know that she wore a maroon down jacket for 10 years and sat in a broken chair for 18 years.

"How am I tasteless? Get lost," she said, her tone somewhat playful.

The two ate and chatted, their conversation ranging from movies to life, and then to their respective situations.

Liu Yifei talked about the pressure she faced while filming. At the age of fifteen, she had to play a twenty-year-old character. If she didn't do a good job with the crying scenes, the director would get anxious, and she herself would also get anxious.

She wrinkled her nose as she said this: "Why are crying scenes so difficult? It's not like I don't want to cry."

"Because you're not crying, you're acting," Lu Chen said. "Real tears aren't forced; they come from being touched by something."

"What poked you?"

"Everyone is different. You have to find it yourself."

Liu Yifei nodded thoughtfully, then suddenly reached out and picked out a peanut from the Kung Pao Chicken and put it into his bowl.

"You eat peanuts."

"I don't eat peanuts."

"Then why did you order Kung Pao Chicken?"

"Because chicken tastes good."

"Then pick out the peanuts."

"I'm too lazy to choose."

Liu Yifei glanced at him, then lowered her head and began to carefully pick out the peanuts from the Kung Pao Chicken, one by one, and put them all into his bowl.

Lu Chen looked at her profile as she lowered her head, the light shining down from above, casting a small shadow on the bridge of her nose.

"You don't need to—"

"Shut up, you're almost done eating." Liu Yifei said without looking up.

Lu Chen shut his mouth and lowered his head to eat his rice.

The peanuts in the bowl were piled up into a small hill.

After dinner, Liu Yifei's assistant came to pick her up. Before leaving, she took a business card out of her bag and handed it to Lu Chen.

"This is my assistant's phone number. If you can't reach me in the future, call this."

Lu Chen took the business card and glanced at it.

The business card had a name and a mobile phone number printed on it, but no company name or job title—it was very simple.

Lu Chen thought to himself, "These days, even an assistant has a business card. How awesome is that?"

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." Liu Yifei put on the gray baseball cap, pulling the brim down low, hiding most of her face in the shadows.

She took a few steps, then turned back, as if remembering something: "Oh right, you still haven't paid back the fifty yuan I borrowed from you last time."

Lu Chen opened his mouth.

"And today's meal," Liu Yifei counted on her fingers, "Kung Pao Chicken was twelve, stir-fried cabbage with vinegar was eight, and egg drop soup was six, totaling twenty-six. You owe me seventy-six."

"You still consider this a crime?"

"Of course it counts. It's only right to pay back debts," Liu Yifei said seriously, but the corners of her mouth peeking out from under her hat were turned up.

"Okay, I'll remember."

"You better remember this." She took a step back, her canvas shoes making a soft pattering sound on the stone pavement, exactly the same as when she walked on the bleachers of the playground last time.

"We'll settle it next time we meet."

After saying that, she turned and left quickly, her hoodie hood puffing up and then deflating in the wind.

Lu Chen stood there, watching her figure disappear around the corner of the alley.

Seventy-six pieces.

He glanced down at the business card in his hand and carefully put it into the breast pocket of his shirt.

They insisted on getting back the fifty-yuan note from Sister Ren's hand first, no matter what.

On his way back to school, Lu Chen sat on the bus and looked out at the street scene.

By the end of October, Beijing already had the feel of late autumn. Half of the ginkgo leaves on the roadside had turned yellow, and a few would fall with a gust of wind, sticking to the windshield of a bus before being swept away by the wipers.

He was thinking about what had just happened on set.

He suggested shifting his gaze 3 centimeters to the lower left corner, but he wasn't entirely confident about it.

In his past life, he was a producer, and communicating with actors about their performances was a daily routine for him, but that was under the premise that he was already a big shot in the industry.

He's just a sophomore in college now. If he walks up to a director and says something like that, he'll either be considered a genius or an idiot.

Fortunately, the result was correct.

It was a one-take success, the director approved, and Liu Yifei believed it too.

But Lu Chen knew in his heart that he couldn't do this kind of thing too often. Once was professional, twice was luck, but three times would just be attention-seeking.

He's not qualified to give orders on set yet. He's only able to speak up today because the director is really out of options. Otherwise, who would listen to a sophomore?

But today's trip was definitely worthwhile. The way Liu Yifei looked down as she helped him pick out peanuts, the upturned corner of her mouth as she counted how much he owed on her fingers, and that promise to settle the score next time they met.

This girl always manages to make debt collection sound like she's arranging a next meeting.

The two most urgent tasks are finding Ning Hao and finding the money.

Back in the dormitory, Zhao Bo and Wang Yan were both there.

Wang Yan was browsing forums on his computer when he saw Lu Chen enter and exclaimed, "Brother Lu, your article on Tianya has been widely shared and is generating a lot of discussion!"

"Um."

"Some people say you are the most thoughtful young person at Beijing Film Academy."

"Anything else?"

"Some people say you're all talk and no action, so why don't you make a feature film instead?"

Lu Chen smiled; this was the direction of the discussion he wanted.

Whether you praise him or criticize him, the key is to instill the expectation of making feature films into the minds of people in the industry.

When he actually presents the project, people won't feel surprised; they'll just feel that he's finally done what he was supposed to do.

"Zhao Bo," Lu Chen turned to look at Zhao Bo, who was reading a book, "Are you free tomorrow?"

"What's wrong?"

"Come with me to find someone."

"Who should I look for?"

"A performing arts professor," Lu Chen said. "His name is Zhang Songwen."

Zhao Bo thought for a moment: "I don't know him."

"I don't know him either."

Zhao Bo glanced at him but didn't ask any more questions.

He had already gotten used to Lu Chen's way of speaking, always only saying half of what he meant, leaving the other half to be revealed only after things happened.

Lu Chen lay on the bed, staring at the Chow Yun-fat poster on the ceiling.

Zhang Songwen.

The name spun in his mind several times; he knew this person from his past life.

A Hakka from Shaoguan, Guangdong Province, he lost his mother at the age of thirteen and started working at seventeen. He worked as a printing factory worker, beverage salesman, air conditioner installer, hotel waiter, restaurant manager, and tour guide. He was also the best tour guide in Guangdong Province.

She was 24 years old when she was admitted to the Performance Department of Taipei Film Academy. During her studies, she served as the president of the student council and wrote, directed and starred in "Farewell My Concubine", which won the first prize for best performance at the National College Student Drama Festival.

After graduating in 2001, I stayed at the school as a performance teacher, but the teacher's salary was not enough to support myself, so I had to take on odd jobs everywhere.

I did everything: script supervisor, production coordinator, screenwriter, editor.

In 2002, he was a poor acting teacher who had nothing left but talent and dignity. Nobody knew him and nobody cared about him.

But Lu Chen knew that this person's acting skills and understanding of acting were unmatched in the entire Beijing Film Academy. When he later became famous for "The Storm," everyone was amazed by his acting skills, but no one knew how many years he had endured before that.

Lu Chen needs just that kind of person.

Talented, but lacking opportunity; poor but principled, willing to gamble.

Just like himself.

The puzzle of "Diamond" is gradually emerging. Lu Chen is directing and producing, Ning Hao is the assistant director, and Zhang Songwen is in charge of acting and directing.

Now the only piece of the puzzle is missing money.

He turned over and closed his eyes. Tomorrow, he was going to see Zhang Songwen.

This will be his first step in this industry, not through short films, columns, or online popularity, but through being a real person.

A person like him, so poor that all he had left was his talent.