Huayu 1999: Starting with nothing but getting something for nothing

Yang Che settled down and spent a week at home writing the script for "My Sassy Girl". As for the storyboard, although he could indeed draw, including oil painting, traditional Chinese painting, and sketching, he still felt it would be better to hand over the storyboard to the directing team after the team was assembled.

It took me a week, mainly because I hadn't written anything in a long time. I was so bad at forgetting how to write characters. And now I don't have a computer to look them up, so I can only use the Xinhua Dictionary. After all, it's not appropriate to write a script like a primary school student using pinyin.

The day after finishing the script, Yang Che started looking for money, and as mentioned earlier, Fan Zeping was indeed the third coal boss he approached.

Of the factors that made this deal possible, Fan Zeping’s generosity and good reputation accounted for 40%, his status as a third-level screenwriter at the Shanxi Film Studio accounted for 10%, Xiao Yanzi accounted for 10%, and Yang Che’s appearance, eloquence, confidence, and shamelessness each accounted for 10%.

In short, the deal is done, so the next step is...

"Master Pei, could you please stop for a moment? Thank you."

The usually taciturn driver, Mr. Pei, grinned and said, "What's the big deal? Just open the door and keep an eye out; there are bicycles."

Yang Che picked up his handbag, thanked him again, opened the door, and got out of the car.

Turn from Yingze Street onto Taoyuan Road, walk another 100 meters, and you'll find an alley with the words "Shanxi Provincial Film Studio" in metal on the wall at the alley entrance.

Walk along the alley, and you'll find a courtyard with a black iron gate; that's it.

Looking through the gate, you see a three-story gray building.

"What are you doing?"

Yang Che looked in the direction the sound came from and saw the doorman, who was wearing a white undershirt and fanning himself with a palm leaf fan.

A smile appeared on Yang Che's face. He smoothly took out a pack of Hongtashan cigarettes from his bag and said, "Sir, I'm an editor from the University Student Film Magazine. I just got off the train and came here specifically to visit Director Li. Please open the door for me."

The gatekeeper was delighted and chuckled as he reached out to take it, saying, "Not bad, young man. The factory manager isn't here."

Yang Che's lips twitched. Damn it! Then why are you taking my cigarette?

"Sir, is the deputy factory manager here?"

"There are eight deputy factory directors, which one are you asking about?"

Yang Che's lips twitched again: "Who's in charge?"

As he asked, another pack of Hongtashan cigarettes was handed over.

A look of admiration rose in the doorman's eyes; he was indeed a fine young man.

"Turn right on the second floor, the fifth room, is Deputy Factory Director Peng Zheng."

Yang Che naturally expressed his gratitude again, entered the courtyard through the small gate, and then walked along the red brick path into the gray building.

As soon as I entered the building, I heard the sound of cards being played coming from the right-hand corridor on the first floor. Perhaps because of the small tiled floor, it had a reverberating effect.

Yang Che curled the corners of his lips and continued walking upstairs without stopping.

I had just gone up to the second floor when I bumped into someone at the corner and felt like I'd been hit on the chest.

The man plopped down on the ground, scattering the papers in his hand onto the stairwell and stair steps.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, are you alright?"

Yang Che quickly stepped forward and saw the person clearly. She was a woman in her late twenties with a large face and squinty eyes. Hmm... she looked like a Mongolian.

The woman looked angry, but said, "It's nothing, I just walked fast, ouch."

Yang Che reached out his hand, and the woman hesitated for a moment before grabbing it. Then she stood up. Luckily, she was sturdy, otherwise her tailbone would have been easily broken on the tiled floor.

"I'll do it, I'll do it."

Seeing the woman about to bend down to pick up the papers scattered on the ground, Yang Che spoke up and bent down to pick up the papers and documents. He saw that one of the papers clearly read "Movie script 'Warm Spring', screenwriter Ulan Tana".

Clearly, this woman is Ulan Tana.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Are you Ulan Tana from this script?"

Ulantana, leaning against the wall and rubbing her bottom, nodded: "It's me."

"What a coincidence, I'm also a screenwriter."

"oh."

Clearly, Ulan Tana was unwilling to talk any further.

However, Yang Che seemed oblivious to this and continued, "I'm here to discuss cooperation. And you?"

Ulan Tana scoffed, "I suggest you try your luck at another factory. This place, ha."

Yang Che understood. No wonder this girl looked like that; she must have been humiliated earlier.

But this is really strange, this is supposed to be "Warm Spring"! Such a pitiful little flower!

Yang Che still remembers when the movie was released, the whole school watched it together, and everyone from teachers to students cried their eyes out. After crying, they had to write a review.

I bet many people born in the 90s watched this movie in school, right?

Anyone with eyes can tell the quality of a script like this. Even if the box office is so-so, the government will definitely allocate funds to make this kind of film.

Yang Che had already picked up the documents and organized them.

"My name is Yang Che, you can just call me Xiao Yang. I'll call you Sister Tana. Can you tell me what's going on?"

Ulan Tana forced a smile, somewhat helpless, but after this ordeal, most of her anger had subsided.

"Thank you, let's go outside to talk, this building is a bit eerie."

Uh... it's a summer afternoon in mid-July. Even though this is Longcheng, it's still around 27 or 28 degrees Celsius.

But what could Yang Che say? The two went downstairs one after the other, and the sound of playing cards in the right corridor on the first floor was still very noisy.

After leaving the building, Ulan Tana plopped down on the steps and then pulled a packet of Cistanche deserticola from her pocket.

"Want a smoke?"

"Thank you, I don't smoke."

Ulan Tana asked curiously, "You're a screenwriter, don't you smoke?"

"No, I'm coughing. Tana, you can smoke yours."

After lighting the lamp, Ulan Tana continued, "When I was in Beijing, I met Mr. Li Shuihe at the Beijing Film Studio. He listened to my story about the script and asked me to come to Longcheng to discuss it in detail when I was free. He was very interested."

"And then you changed your mind?"

"No, Director Li is away on a business trip and we haven't been able to contact him. But Deputy Director Peng Zheng said he's in charge of this matter. He just told me that the factory has no money and that I should find investment myself. Is he kidding me? If I could find investment myself, why would I have come all this way here?"

Yang Che suddenly realized: "From what you're saying, you wrote and directed this yourself?"

"Yes, I've been working on this notebook for three years..."

In the ensuing conversation, Yang Che learned a little about Ulan Tana. She graduated from the Directing Department of the Central Academy of Drama in 1994 and had worked at the Beijing Film Studio for five years. According to her, she had worked as a script supervisor and executive director. She had written the script for three years and had high hopes for it, so of course she had to direct it herself; otherwise, she would have submitted it to the Beijing Film Studio long ago.

Ulan Tana seemed to have found an outlet for her anger, saying everything she should and shouldn't have said, and even cursing Peng Zheng upstairs. Yang Che was sure the people upstairs could hear her, as the woman's voice was quite loud.

"And you? What kind of book did you write? Which school did you graduate from?"