This director only directs blockbusters.

I had lunch at a local Chinese restaurant. The owner is from Guangdong and has been in South Africa for twenty years. The food is still authentically Cantonese, but the portions are ridiculously large.

"The street where you're going to film," the shopkeeper said casually as he brought over the dishes, "was very lively in the 90s, but then the white people left and black people moved in, and it gradually became chaotic."

Now, anyone opening a shop there has to hire security guards, and they have to lock the doors even during the day.

"Can safety be guaranteed when filming?" Yang Ning asked.

"As long as the money is right," the boss chuckled. "The people here are poor, but they're trustworthy. If you pay them, they'll really work their lives for you."

The dishes were served quickly and piping hot. Yang Ning ate a couple of bites and felt a little more at ease.

After finishing our meal, we continued on our journey.

In the afternoon, I went to the port area. Containers were piled up like small mountains, and cranes slowly turned overhead, casting shadows on the road like an iron roof.

"This dock," Chen Yong pointed into the distance, "is going to be expanded next year, and some areas are currently empty. It's the perfect spot for you to film 'The Moving Maze.'"

Yang Ning stood in front of the container and looked up. Sunlight filtered through the gaps, and dust particles swirled within the beams of light.

Li Binbin stood next to him, also tilting her head back and squinting her eyes, as if trying to find the right angle.

"It's a bit like the ruins in 'The Purple Cloud Era'," she said.

"It's different," Yang Ning said. "That place is deathly, this place is alive."

He picked up his camera and photographed the rust, the texture of the steel cable, and the mottled ground.

Li Binbin didn't say anything, just stood to the side and watched, occasionally turning his head to glance around at the surroundings, his expression indifferent, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking.

After finishing one set of photos, Yang Ning put down his camera: "Aren't you going to take some more?"

"I've taken the photos." Li Binbin waved his phone. "I'll show them to my friends when I get back."

"friend?"

"They're from outside the industry," she said. "Old classmates, now teachers, accountants, or stay-at-home moms. They've never seen anything like this before."

Yang Ning nodded. She felt that her actions were quite natural, and not just for show to post on social media.

The setting sun shone obliquely on the harbor, and the air was filled with a salty smell mixed with the smell of diesel.

"It's time to go back." Chen Yong walked over. "We need to get into the city before dark."

On the way back, Li Binbin fell asleep against the car window, breathing shallowly.

Yang Ning glanced at her—her face without makeup looked younger than on TV, with slightly deep-set eyes and well-defined cheekbones; this kind of look could withstand close-up shots.

As the car entered the city, neon lights began to illuminate the streets.

Li Binbin woke up, rubbed his eyes, and looked outside: "Have we arrived?"

"Soon."

She sat up straight and casually tidied her hair.

"Today's trip," her voice still a little soft, "was more interesting than I expected."

Yang Ning glanced at her.

"Before I came here, I was only thinking about work," she smiled, "but now that I'm here and standing on the street, I feel... quite enlightened."

Yang Ning hummed in agreement and didn't say anything more.

The car was parked in front of the hotel. The InterContinental Hotel, one of the best in Johannesburg. Security was required at the entrance; a guard was on a leash with a police dog.

The room was on the twelfth floor, with a panoramic view of the city at night. Yang Ning finished showering and came out when her phone beeped with a text message.

Li Binbin: "What time are you leaving Cape Town tomorrow?"

"Seven o'clock."

"it is good."

He put down his phone and stood by the window. In the distance, lights stretched out in a continuous line; the city felt completely different during the day and at night.

He recalled the streets, the graffiti, the people standing idly by during the day. These would all become the backdrop for the movie—car chases, escapes, and audiences would be drawn in for two hours.

This is his job: to pick what's usable from reality and piece it together into a dream.

The next morning at 6:30, at the restaurant.

Li Binbin had already arrived, dressed in sportswear, her hair tied up, and was drinking juice. She nodded to Yang Ning.

"morning."

"morning."

The two finished breakfast. At seven o'clock, Paul's car was waiting at the door on time.

Fly to Cape Town, two hours. Yang Ning looked at the proposal, while Li Binbin, who hadn't slept, was also flipping through documents.

"The winding mountain roads of Cape Town," she suddenly asked, "the climax of the film?"

"Yes. The helicopter and cable car chase, they filmed right there."

"I've seen the photos; the cliff is very steep."

"The steeper, the more exciting."

Li Binbin looked at him: "Aren't you afraid something will happen?"

"I'm afraid," Yang Ning said, "so I came to scout the location in advance and make contingency plans."

The plane landed. The sun was shining brightly in Cape Town, the sky was a brilliant blue, and Table Mountain stood quietly in the distance.

"This place..." Li Binbin stood at the airport entrance looking at the flat-topped mountain, "is completely different from what I imagined."

"What were you originally planning?"

"I imagined Africa to be grasslands and animals," she said. "I never expected there to be cities like this."

The car drove along the coast, with the Atlantic Ocean on one side and white sand beaches on the other, and Table Mountain getting closer and closer.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Chen Yong said, turning around. "One of the most beautiful cities in the world. But the winding mountain road you want to photograph is outside the city."

The drive into the mountains took two hours. The road was narrow and winding, with a mountain wall on one side and a cliff on the other, with waves constantly crashing against the shore below.

Paul drove steadily, handling every turn with ease.

Li Binbin kept looking outside, his face a little pale.

"Afraid?" Yang Ning asked.

"A little," she said honestly, "It's going to fall..."

"The area will be cleared and roads closed during filming, and all safety ropes will be in place."

The car stopped at the viewing platform. Yang Ning got out and went to the edge of the cliff. The wind was howling, and his clothes were billowing in the wind. Looking down, the seawater was a dark blue, and the waves crashed against the rocks, exploding into white foam.

Chen Yong, standing nearby, said, "Shoot the drift on this bend, the acceleration on that straightaway, and the leap on the cliff edge."

Yang Ning began taking photos.

Li Binbin, standing to the side, suddenly asked, "Director Yang, will Leng Yue's character die in the end?"

Yang Ning turned his head.

"It wasn't written as a death sentence in the script."

"But that look in her eyes..." She paused, "In the last performance, the way she looked out the window was like she was saying goodbye."

Yang Ning remained silent for a few seconds.

"You think this is a farewell?"

"I don't know," Li Binbin said. "That's why I'm asking you."

The wind tousled her hair, and she raised her hand to brush it aside, but it didn't work, so she simply ignored it.

"The script isn't set in stone," Yang Ning said, "but how you act is up to you."

Li Binbin looked at him.

"You mean...?"

"Good actors add things to their roles," Yang Ning said. "As long as it's reasonable and doesn't disrupt the overall character, they can decide what they want to add."

She smiled.

"I'll have to think about it carefully."

As they descended the mountain, the setting sun bathed the bay in gold. An old English song played in the car; Yang Ning couldn't understand the lyrics, but the melody was familiar.

Li Binbin leaned back in his chair and hummed along softly.

"What song?"

"Right Here Waiting, by Richard Marx."

"It sounds nice."

She turned her head: "Haven't you heard of it?"

"without."

She laughed and continued humming.

The song floated in the car, while outside lay a golden sea.

Paul glanced in the rearview mirror, his lips twitched, and he continued driving.

Back in Cape Town city, it was completely dark. Chen Yong recommended a seafood restaurant by the sea, open-air, with a view of Table Mountain.

The table was set with lobster, oysters, and grilled fish, accompanied by white wine.

Li Binbin ate very slowly, chewing each bite carefully.

"Not to your liking?" Yang Ning asked.

"No," she put down her knife and fork, "it just feels... a little unreal."

"How is it unrealistic?"

"Yesterday I was looking down the streets of Johannesburg, today I'm having a seafood feast here." She gazed at Table Mountain. "Two kinds of Africa."

Yang Ning did not respond.

"Do you do this when you make movies too?" She turned back, "Piecing together completely different things to make the audience feel like it's one world?"

"almost."

She nodded and continued eating.

After dinner, we returned to the hotel. Our room was on the eighth floor, facing the bay.

Yang Ning stood by the window and lit a cigarette. The sea breeze, carrying a slight chill, drifted in through the half-open window.

My phone vibrated. Li Binbin texted: "Want to see one last place tomorrow?"

"Yes, the container terminal."

"it is good."

A few seconds later, another message appeared: "Goodnight, Director Yang."

Yang Ning looked at the screen and replied with two words: "Good night."

Outside the window, the night in Cape Town was quiet, and the sea stretched out in the distance, a deep, dark expanse.

I have things to do tomorrow.

I'm going back to Beijing the day after tomorrow.

Then, step by step, this movie will actually be made.

He stubbed out his cigarette and drew the curtains.

Time to sleep.