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

The next morning, the accident at Chanyun Cliff weighed heavily on everyone's mind like a stone.

Filming can continue.

Zhang Jinlai's left arm was in a simple sling, and the face paint had been reapplied, so his paleness was no longer visible.

Director Yang Jie stood in front of the monitor and glanced at him several times, but Zhang Jinlai ultimately didn't say the word "rest".

The footage of the four travelers on their journey through the mountains doesn't require them to leap or do somersaults; it simply shows them moving forward.

But Zhang Jinlai is a "monkey," so he has to jump and leap to bring the Monkey King to life. Holding the golden cudgel, walking in front, every movement is vivid, and every step is steady.

When his leg hurt, he just stood there, and the audience could only tell that he was waiting for the three of them, the master and his disciples.

At this moment, Ma Dehua quickly helped Monkey Brother with her big pregnant belly; the tacit understanding between the two was beyond words.

Or perhaps there was a gap when they changed camera positions, Zhang Jinlai would turn to the side and gently support his left arm with his right hand.

Zhou Fangyuan pushed the cameraman on a handcart, which served as a kind of manual camera track.

He saw these actions but didn't go up to ask. Asking wouldn't have made a difference; Zhang Jinlai would just say "It's nothing."

At dusk, the final shot was taken.

Yang Jie took off his headphones, let out a long breath, and said into the walkie-talkie, "Perfect, let's call it a day."

Zhang Jinlai then leaned against a rock and slowly sat down.

That evening, Zhou Fangyuan flipped through the notebook in his dormitory by the light of a kerosene lamp.

My colleagues from the art department were also awake; some were sketching, others were chatting, and the room was warm and cozy from the charcoal brazier.

There was a knock on the door.

Zhang Qiang stood at the door, holding something wrapped in old newspapers, his hair was messy, and he had dark circles under his eyes.

He entered the house but didn't sit down. After saying hello, he immediately opened the newspaper.

Several palm-sized pulleys, smoothed with a file, have rounded edges and rotate smoothly.

There was also a half-finished vest next to it.

The thick canvas was cut into shape, and the tire padding was inserted, but the shoulder straps were sewn crookedly, with stitches as big as centipedes.

"Fang Yuan, can you take a look at this for me?"

Zhang Qiang's voice was hoarse, but his eyes were bright: "I tried the pulley, and the rope really moves smoothly."

This vest... I spent half the night and half the day sewing it, and I took it apart three times, but no matter how I sewed it, it just didn't look right. I was really at my wit's end.

He lifted his vest; the shoulder straps were uneven, and the lining was wrinkled.

Several art team colleagues gathered around to look, and one of them couldn't help but laugh: "Qiangzi, are you sewing clothes with the same effort you put into nailing props?"

Zhang Qiang wasn't annoyed, and sighed:

"I've been making props for over ten years, using wood, sheet metal, foam plastic, I can do anything."

"This needlework... it won't obey me."

Zhou Fangyuan smiled as he took the vest and turned it over to look at it.

The shoulder straps are in the right position, and the inner padding is also correct, but the stitching order is messed up. Some places are sewn shut, while others are still open.

"Do you have a needle and thread?" he asked.

Zhang Qiang pulled out a roll of black thread and a large needle from his pocket: "Yes, yes, I borrowed them from the costume department."

Zhou Fangyuan took it, spread the vest on the edge of the bed, and began to unravel the mis-stitched threads.

His movements were slow but steady; he inserted the needle tip into the knot and gently pulled it out, removing the broken thread.

The room quieted down, and several people gathered around to watch.

"Comrade Fangyuan, you can do this too?" A colleague who wasn't very familiar with Zhou Fangyuan asked in surprise.

"My mother taught me how to do this back home," Zhou Fangyuan said calmly as he removed the stitches, glancing at the other person as he did so.

"She was sewing the soles of the shoes, and I was helping her thread the needle."

After untying the misplaced stitches, he aligned the shoulder straps and started stitching again.

The stitches were neither too big nor too small, even and solid, and the line was drawn straight through. At the end, a knot was hidden in the fabric, so that it was not visible from the outside.

Zhang Qiang squatted by the bed, staring at his hand, not daring to breathe.

After sewing one shoulder strap, Zhou Fangyuan was about to change the thread when someone spoke up next to him:

"By the way, Fang Yuan, aren't you on good terms with Liu Zhihan from the costume team? Why don't you have her help you? Wouldn't that be better than you sewing it all by yourself?"

Zhou Fangyuan paused for a moment, then continued threading the needle: "Comrades Zhihan and the others are busy too, I have plenty of time here, I can sew slowly."

"Yeah, that's true." The colleague nodded, sighed, "Sigh...it's not easy for anyone."

He looked around and continued, "Are there any of us who can help? We've been filming mountain scenery for the past few days and haven't had to do any set-up. We're so bored."

Several other graphic designers chimed in, "Yeah, we should all get some work done. It's kind of embarrassing to just sit around doing nothing."

Zhou Fangyuan looked up at them, then at the pulley in Zhang Qiang's hand, and laughed, "Then why don't you guys modify the pulley system with Brother Qiang, or maybe work on the lining?"

"Alright!"

The group immediately sprang into action.

Zhang Qiang distributed the pulleys and tools to them, then squatted down and began explaining how to sand the edges without damaging the rope.

Li, a member of the art team, took the file and began to refine the metal edge under the light.

Old Chen took out a few sheets of sandpaper and polished the wooden handle.

The once quiet dormitory suddenly had the feel of a workshop.

Zhou Fangyuan continued sewing his shoulder strap, the kerosene lamp casting his shadow on the wall, stitch by stitch, unhurried and patient.

Someone started humming a little tune, but the tune was hard to identify; it was just something they were humming along to.

Zhang Qiang rarely showed a smile: "The pulleys that your art team polished are much prettier than the ones I made."

Without looking up, Xiao Li smiled and said, "Of course, everyone has their own area of ​​expertise."

The charcoal fire crackled inside the room, while the mountain wind howled outside the window.

The group of people were busy working, exchanging a few words occasionally, but most of the time they were doing their own thing, their hands never stopping.

After Zhou Fangyuan finished sewing the last stitch, he bit off the thread and turned his vest over to take a look.

The shoulder straps are flat, the lining fits snugly, and the edges of the tire leather are wrapped with cloth strips so they won't chafe.

He picked it up, shook it, and handed it to Zhang Qiang.

"Brother Qiang, give it a try."

Zhang Qiang took it, touched the even stitches, rubbed his rough fingers back and forth along the seam a couple of times, exclaimed in admiration, and then carefully placed the beautifully sewn vest on the bed, as if it were something fragile.

He turned around, picked up the half-finished pulley again, compared the pulley groove with the button on the vest, and continued to make improvements.

The wick of the kerosene lamp had burned down a bit, and the flame flickered. Old Chen got up and trimmed the wick, making the room a little brighter again.

No one checked the time, and no one complained of being tired; only laughter and chatter could be heard.

The crew was extremely busy for the next two days. Several shots from the "Entangling Cloud Cliff" incident had to be reshot, and the entire crew worked non-stop, making sleep a luxury.

The incredibly stressful task of improving the "Crossing the River Dragon" was kept as a secret as possible, with no one daring to inquire about it.

Those unfinished items were left on the shelves in the prop room during the day, and Zhang Qiang would touch them every time he passed by, as if guarding an answer sheet that had not yet been handed in.

One evening, cheers finally erupted from the dormitory.