This director only directs blockbusters.

Day 12 of filming, the old neighborhood of Johannesburg.

Today's shoot is for the street brawl scene, which requires a lot of extras. Chen Yong contacted a local agent a week in advance and agreed on a price of 40 rand per person per day, including one meal.

The extras arrived at six in the morning. There were more than thirty people, a dark mass standing on the street, men and women, young and old. A few of the younger ones gathered together smoking, while the older ones squatted against the wall basking in the sun, looking no different from usual.

The agent was a Black man in his fifties named Thomas, wearing a floral shirt and speaking with a very loud voice. He ran over and checked the list with Chen Yong, then shouted to the extras, who sparsely stood up and listened to the assistant director's instructions.

The filming went smoothly.

Although the extras were inexperienced, they were obedient; they would stand wherever they were told to stand and run whenever they were told to run. In one scene, they needed to scatter and run, and they were all in place after only two shouts. They were even more effective than the seasoned extras in China.

At lunchtime, Lao Xu and his crew distributed boxed lunches. They were delivered from a Chinese restaurant; rice with stewed beef and potatoes—a large portion to keep everyone full. The extras squatted by the roadside to eat, enjoying their meal immensely; several even gave Lao Xu a thumbs-up.

"Good! Good!"

After happily distributing the meals, Lao Xu returned to Yang Ning and said, "This extra is pretty good; he's obedient and not picky about food."

Yang Ning nodded and continued watching the monitor playback.

Filming continued in the afternoon. Around 3 PM, something happened.

---

Suddenly, a group of people appeared on the street.

There were seven or eight of them, all Black, ranging in age from twenty to forty, dressed in flashy clothes, and walking unsteadily. They were clearly not there to work.

The leader, a man in his thirties, was bald, wore sunglasses, and had a large gold chain around his neck—it was hard to tell if it was real or fake, but it looked quite intimidating. He walked straight to the middle of the filming area, plopped down on a prop cart, and crossed his legs.

The crew member quickly went over and asked in English, "Sir, we're filming here, could you please move aside?"

The bald man ignored him and waved behind him. One of his underlings ran over, handed him a cigarette, and lit it for him.

Yang Ning watched from behind the monitor, frowning.

Chen Yong had already gone over and was communicating with the man in the local language. After a few words, Chen Yong's expression changed, and he walked back.

"Director Yang, this is a bit of a problem."

"What's the trouble?"

"They're the local bullies here," Chen Yong said in a low voice. "They said we used their people without asking them first, which broke the rules."

"Their people?" Yang Ning glanced at the group of extras. "Weren't these extras hired by Thomas?"

"Thomas also has to pay them protection money," Chen Yong said. "Now they're coming to us, meaning the extras' wages have to be doubled, and—" he paused, "the doubled portion has to be given to them."

Yang Ning looked at him.

"How many?"

"Thirty extras, forty rand each, that's twelve thousand a day. Double that's four thousand. They want twelve thousand."

Yang Ning remained silent.

Old Xu, standing nearby, became agitated: "Why? Our contract was signed with Thomas, not with them!"

"They don't care about the contract," Chen Yong said. "That's how it is in this area. If we don't pay, there will be trouble with filming later."

Yang Ning stood up and walked towards the bald man.

Chen Yong quickly followed up: "Director Yang, how about I handle this? Please don't get involved..."

"It's alright," Yang Ning said. "I'll see what kind of tactics he has."

Yang Ning stopped in front of the bald man.

The bald man sized him up for a moment and said in English, "Are you a director?"

"Yes."

"Chinese?"

"right."

The bald man laughed, revealing a few gold teeth: "Chinese movies, impressive. I've seen them on TV."

Yang Ning didn't respond, waiting for him to continue.

"You'll have to pay me if you use my people." The bald man pointed at the group of extras. "They're under my protection."

"The wages have already been paid," Yang Ning said. "Forty rand per person, and lunch was also provided."

"That's for them," the bald man shook his head. "What's for me is a different story."

"How many?"

"1200." The bald man held up three fingers—no, one, Yang Ning calculated, it should be 300? His math wasn't great. "300 rand, one day."

Yang Ning smiled.

The bald man frowned: "What are you laughing at?"

"You just said you wanted 1200, and now you're saying 300." Yang Ning looked at him. "Think it over before you say anything."

A few of his underlings stepped forward, and the atmosphere suddenly became tense.

Chen Yong quickly stepped in front of Yang Ning and spoke a few words in the local dialect. The bald man's expression changed upon hearing this, and he glanced back.

Over there, Paul and several security guards had already stood up. Twenty black security guards in camouflage uniforms, each holding a weapon, stared coldly at them.

The bald man swallowed.

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking at Yang Ning.

"What I mean is—" Yang Ning said, enunciating each word clearly, "Do you know how much it costs me to hire twenty security guards a day?"

The bald man didn't say anything.

"It's more expensive than your protection money," Yang Ning continued, "but they're really good at fighting. Want to give it a try?"

The bald man stared at him for a few seconds.

Then he laughed. This time, the laugh was fake, the kind that's forced and insincere.

"Director Yang, you've misunderstood." He stood up, patted his pants, and said, "I'm just here to make friends. Money is no problem, no problem."

He stretched out his hand.

Yang Ning did not shake hands.

The bald man's hand hung awkwardly in mid-air. He sheepishly withdrew his hand, turned, and walked away. His henchmen quickly followed, glancing back at him a few times as they left.

After taking a few steps, the bald man turned back and said, "Director Yang, South Africa is a chaotic place. Be careful."

Paul had already walked over and was standing next to Yang Ning, his hands in his pockets. He didn't say anything, just stared at the bald man.

The bald man glanced at him, said nothing more, climbed into a dilapidated pickup truck, and drove off with a roar.

---

After the person left, Chen Yong breathed a sigh of relief.

"Director Yang, you scared me to death just now. You're so brave."

"What are you afraid of?" Yang Ning lit a cigarette. "There are security guards here."

"What if they actually make a move?"

"They won't," Yang Ning exhaled a puff of smoke. "Those kinds of people are just bluffing. If they were really going to fight, they wouldn't bring so many people. They're just there to bolster their courage."

Chen Yong thought about it and it seemed to make sense.

Old Xu asked from the side, "So what do we do next? Will they come and cause trouble?"

"Yes," Yang Ning said, "but not today. They didn't get anything out of it today, so they'll go back and discuss it further, and come back in a few days."

"So what do we do?"

"Keep filming," Yang Ning said. "Have Paul and the others increase patrols. After we finish filming tonight, move all the equipment back to the hotel; don't leave it outside."

Paul nodded and turned to make the arrangements.

---

Everything seems normal on the extras' side.

A few younger people had tried to join in the commotion, but the older ones held them back. Now that it's over, they're back to squatting by the roadside in the sun, acting as if nothing happened.

Thomas came over and kept apologizing.

"Director Yang, I'm sorry, I didn't know they would come. This kind of thing has happened before, but usually we just give them some money and they're gone. I didn't expect them to come today..."

"That's none of your business," Yang Ning interrupted him. "Are you sure you can find any extras for the next few days?"

"Yes!" Thomas quickly replied, "I'll find someone elsewhere, without going through them."

"Okay," Yang Ning said, "Let's continue filming."

The afternoon's filming continued. The extras were even more cooperative than before, probably because the previous scene had made them realize—this Chinese director was not to be trifled with.

By the time we finished work, the sun was almost setting.

Yang Ning stood on the street, watching the last playback. In the scene, the extras scattered and ran away, and Deng Chao squeezed out of the crowd, looking flustered—he acted exceptionally well, his cowardice was so real.

"Pass," Yang Ning said.

Equipment began to be packed up. Old Xu directed people to load it onto the truck, while Paul's security guards spread out around, their eyes fixed on the street corner.

Li Binbin walked over and stood next to Yang Ning.

"Director Yang, weren't you afraid of what happened just now?"

"What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid they might actually make a move." She looked at him. "They're local bullies, not to be trifled with."

"I'm afraid," Yang Ning said, "but I'm even more afraid of opening this door."

Li Binbin didn't say anything, she just looked at him.

"This kind of thing," Yang Ning continued, "once it happens, it happens again. They give it to us today, and they come back tomorrow. They raise the price the day after tomorrow, and a different group of people comes the day after that. It never ends."

He stubbed out his cigarette.

"So we can't give it to them. We have to stand up to them the first time. Let them know we're not to be messed with."

Li Binbin looked at him with a somewhat complicated expression.

"Director Yang," she suddenly said, "you know, sometimes I feel like you're not like a director at all."

"Like what?"

"Like a..." she thought for a moment, "like someone who's been in a war."

Yang Ning smiled.

"Let's go, that's a wrap." He turned and walked towards his car.

---

By the time we got back to the hotel, it was completely dark.

Yang Ning took a shower in her room and had just lain down when her phone rang.

It's Paul.

"Director Yang, they're here again."

Yang Ning sat up: "Where?"

"At the hotel entrance. Three cars, a dozen or so people." Paul's voice was calm. "Should we call the police?"

Yang Ning thought for a moment.

"No need," he said. "Let them wait."

After hanging up the phone, he put on his clothes and went downstairs.

At the hotel entrance, three beat-up cars were parked sideways, blocking most of the road. A bald man stood at the front, followed by a dozen or so people holding sticks, but they didn't move; they just stood there.

Paul stood at the hotel entrance with a dozen or so security guards, facing off on both sides.

Yang Ning walked over and stood next to Paul.

The bald man saw him and smiled.

"Director Yang, good evening."

Yang Ning remained silent.

"I've thought about what happened during the day," the bald man said, taking a step forward. "I think Director Yang is right. Money is negotiable. But we need to agree on a price."

"There's nothing to talk about," Yang Ning said.

The bald man's expression changed.

"Director Yang, you're making trouble for yourself."

Yang Ning looked at him.

"You know what I hate most?" he said. "It's being threatened."

He nodded to Paul.

Paul took out his phone and pressed a button.

Suddenly, the sound of police sirens rang out in the distance. Not just one, but several. They were getting closer and closer.

The bald man's expression changed completely.

"Did you call the police?"

"The police in South Africa," Yang Ning said, "are quick to act once they've been paid."

Three police cars screeched to a halt in front of the hotel. Seven or eight police officers got out, and the one in the lead nodded to Paul, clearly recognizing him.

The bald man's expression was priceless as he watched this scene.

"Director Yang," he said through gritted teeth, "we'll meet again someday."

"It's best if there's no deadline," Yang Ning said.

The bald man waved his hand, led his men into the car, and drove off with a rumble.

The police didn't chase after him, chatted with Paul for a few minutes, and then left.

Yang Ning stood at the hotel entrance and lit a cigarette.

Paul walked over, a rare smile on his face: "Director Yang, how did you know they'd be coming tonight?"

"Just guessing," Yang Ning said. "This kind of person, if they lose face during the day, they'll definitely get their revenge at night."

"How did you know the police would come?"

"Because of the money," Yang Ning said, looking at him. "You gave it to me."

Paul smiled.

"Director Yang, you're a smart man."

Yang Ning remained silent, gazing at the distant nightscape.

"We'll continue filming tomorrow, and the day after. We'll keep filming until we're done."

Paul nodded.

Yang Ning finished his cigarette and turned to go upstairs.

Back in his room, he lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling.

My phone vibrated. It was from several people.

Li Binbin: "I heard you got it sorted out? Awesome."

Gao Yuanyuan: Are you alright? I was so worried.

Deng Chao: "Director Yang is awesome!"

Nicholas Tse's response was simple: "Amazing."

Yang Ning did not reply.

He closed his eyes and went over tomorrow's filming schedule in his mind.

Then I fell asleep.