Huayu: Starting with Xiang Yu, the Hegemon of Western Chu

The next morning, Chen Mo sat back down by the window of that milk tea shop.

Same spot, same hot drink, same street outside the window, the people walking by have changed, but the taste remains the same.

Before leaving home today, he sent a message to Shen Yu, briefly explaining the situation with Xu Zhinian and asking Shen Yu to inquire within the industry if there were any suitable martial arts actors whose schedules matched.

Shen Yu replied with a single word: "Okay."

She's decisive and efficient, just like her personality.

Chen Mo put away his phone and continued watching the people on the street.

He's developed a habit these past few days: every morning he sits by the window for an hour, specifically observing passersby.

For example, the lady selling cold noodles across the street will always twirl the money in her hand a couple of times to confirm the number of bills before giving change. She may not be aware of this action, but people who have been running small businesses for more than ten years have this instinct.

For example, the middle-aged man squatting and smoking in front of the convenience store holds his cigarette by pinching the butt between his index finger and thumb. People who do manual labor hold their cigarettes like this because they can only take a few puffs during breaks from work, and by pinching the butt, they can take the last puff.

These are things you can't learn from books; you can only see them on the street.

Passersby were all his "teachers".

Chen Mo was looking at an old man repairing shoes across the street, trying to figure out the angle of his squinting eyes as he threaded a needle, when suddenly a commotion came from across the street.

A man and a woman were arguing fiercely.

The woman had a loud voice, spoke quickly, and her voice was trembling with sobs.

The man's voice wasn't low either, but it was more of a suppressed, irritable anger.

Chen Mo put down his milk tea cup and glanced out the window.

Across the street, in front of a store with a sign that reads "XX Film and Television Culture Media," a woman in her early thirties was holding the arm of a man of similar age, and the two were arguing heatedly.

The woman held the man's hand with her left hand and a four- or five-year-old boy's hand with her right.

The little boy was frightened, tears streaming down his face, but he dared not cry out. He just stood there between the two adults, his little hands tightly gripping his mother's clothes.

Chen Mo took another look at the little boy's face.

There was still a layer of powdery foundation on both cheeks, and the eyebrows had been drawn, with two dark lines pressing down on the child's already tender features, making it look indescribably awkward.

There were several tear streaks around the corners of my eyes and the sides of my nose, which smudged my foundation, making my skin look uneven and white.

It's obvious that the child was just made up and filmed inside.

Chen Mo frowned slightly.

A crowd of seven or eight onlookers had already gathered around.

The woman shouted, "The teacher said our son is got the makings, he's born for this. If he makes a movie, he'll be on TV and variety shows, and our lives will be much better! What's wrong with you giving me 30,000 yuan?"

The man yelled, "Have you been brainwashed? What do you mean, 'born to do this'? They're picking our kids out of all the others? Use your toes to think about whether that makes sense!"

Upon hearing these words, Chen Mo understood everything.

He's an expert on this tactic.

There are countless film and television companies in Hengdian, some legitimate, but many more illegitimate.

There are some people who specifically target parents with children. They start by striking up conversations on the street, saying things like, "Your child is so good-looking, with such well-proportioned features. They're born to be a child star."

Which mother wouldn't be happy to hear that?

If you're happy, things will be much easier.

First, they take out a few hundred dollars to shoot a three- to five-minute "audience video," then they do the child's makeup, lighting, and posing. After the video is shot, these people praise the child from head to toe in front of the camera, saying things like how expressive the child's eyes are, how naturally photogenic the child is, and how this is the best talent our company has ever seen in all these years.

After a barrage of compliments, the new mother was completely won over.

Once they got excited, these people revealed their true purpose, saying that the child's potential was so good that it shouldn't be wasted. They said their company was preparing a movie and they could arrange a role for the child, with a fee ranging from 30,000 to 80,000 yuan.

After paying the money, there are only two possible outcomes.

Either the company will simply abscond with the money.

Alternatively, they could just assemble a makeshift crew, produce a shoddy production, upload it to some platform no one watches, take a screenshot, and send it to the parents, saying, "Look, your child is on the big screen!"

From beginning to end, it was a precise exploitation of parents' vanity.

Chen Mo glanced at the little boy's smudged foundation, then at the crookedly hanging sign on the storefront, and got up and walked out.

He didn't want to get involved in other people's business, and the reason he left was because he was afraid that if more and more people gathered, they would block his way out.

But often, what you fear most is what comes to pass.

As he walked out of the bubble tea shop and passed by the couple, the situation between them clearly escalated to a fever pitch.

"Don't stop me! I'm going to pay this money today!"

"You do yours, don't bring the kids!"

During the struggle, the man grabbed Chen Mo, who was passing by.

"Hey buddy, do you really think just anyone or any kid you pick in Hengdian has the potential to become a star?"

Chen Mo felt somewhat helpless.

"Of course not."

Since he couldn't dodge it, Chen Mo could only answer based on his conscience.

Moreover, it must have been difficult for him to get this older brother.

His fingernails were covered in unwashed cement dust, and his calloused hands suggested he was a plasterer who spent years working on construction sites.

This is all hard-earned money.

"Sister, let me say a few words for you to hear before you decide whether to pay or not."

The woman turned her head and glanced at him, looking him up and down.

He was 1.83 meters tall, with strong features and simple clothes, but his temperament was clearly different from the people on the street.

Who are you?

"I'm an actor, and I'm filming in Hengdian."

Upon hearing the word "actor," the woman's attitude softened slightly, probably because she felt that what he said carried some weight.

"Sister, please don't be angry if I say something unpleasant."

Chen Mo squatted down and looked at the little boy at eye level. The little boy blinked at him, and the smudged foundation on his cheeks was even more noticeable in the sunlight.

"Your child is quite handsome, but to say he has the potential to be a child star is a long shot."

The woman's expression changed instantly.

"What makes you say that? Even the teachers said it was good!"

"Sister, I've been in this line of work for several years. Let me tell you a few hard requirements, and you can check them against your own criteria."

Chen Mo spoke in a calm and unhurried tone.

"The first thing we look at when selecting child stars is their camera presence. Camera presence has nothing to do with looks. Some kids may look ordinary, but they are full of acting talent when they stand in front of the camera. Some kids may look good, but they become stiff in front of the camera. This ability is innate and cannot be trained."

"The second thing to look at is the ability to express emotions. Can a four or five-year-old child make expressions such as crying, laughing, fear, and surprise when asked by the director, and do it naturally and without being pretentious? If three or four out of a hundred children have this ability, that's already a lot."

"The third thing to look at is concentration. Filming is not like taking photos. It's common for a single scene to take three or four hours to film. Do you think your child can stay quietly on set for three hours without making a fuss, crying, or running away?"

The woman opened her mouth, but no words came out.

She looked down at her son.

The little boy had long since stopped listening to what they were saying. He was kicking a pebble on the ground, and after kicking it twice, he went to pluck a leaf from a roadside tree. He picked one, looked at it for less than two seconds, and then threw it away, turning his head to stare at a passing ant.

Their attention span is like a flea's, changing targets every three seconds.

Chen Mo didn't say anything more.

Everything that needed to be said had been said, and the child himself had already given the best demonstration.

But the woman was clearly not giving up; her eyes darted back and forth between Chen Mo and the film company's signboard.

"But that teacher said it so well, that my son has bright eyes, and that he looks like he could be on TV..."

"Big sister." Chen Mo sighed.

"They say the same thing to every parent who passes by with their child, using the exact same script: 'Your child is so talented!' 'I've been in this business for so many years and this is the first time I've ever seen such a promising child.' Believe me, if you post these sentences online, you'll find hundreds of identical complaints."

He pointed to the patchy makeup on the little boy's face.

"Look at the makeup on this child's face. Reputable film crews use hypoallergenic products specifically designed for children when doing their makeup, and they also thoroughly remove the makeup. What is this stuff on his face? Layer upon layer! His eyes are even red. These people don't even care about a child's skin. Do you think they'll take this seriously when filming?"

The woman looked down at her son's bruised and battered face, and her eyes instantly welled up with tears.

She reached out to wipe the makeup off the child's face, and when her finger touched the powder on his cheek, the little boy mumbled, "It hurts."

The woman's hand froze in mid-air.

The man finally spoke up, his voice much lower than before.

"See, what did I tell you?"

This time he didn't call her a "liar," probably because he saw his wife's eyes were red and he couldn't bear to hurt her anymore.

The woman was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly turned and rushed towards the entrance of the film company.

"I'm going to get my money back! I want the 500 yuan I paid back!"

Chen Mo quickly stopped him.

"Sister, don't make a scene yourself. The more you make a scene, the more complicated it will become. Call the police and let them handle it. This kind of company probably doesn't have a proper film and television business license. The police can find out easily."

The man grabbed the woman, took out his phone, and started making a call.

The woman squatted down, dampened her sleeve with water, and gently wiped the makeup off her son's face.

After wiping it a couple of times, the cheap foundation became even more smudged after being soaked in water, making the little boy's face look like he was performing in a play.

The little boy tilted his head and asked, "Mommy, is my face dirty?"

The woman hummed in response, without looking up, and wiped her hands even more carefully.

Chen Mo stood by and watched this scene without saying anything more.

The police arrived about ten minutes later.

Two police officers entered the storefront of the film company and, within five minutes, brought out the "boss" and a "manager." Several employees who remained in the store were also asked to wait at the door to cooperate with the investigation.

The family of three registered with the police. As the man led the woman and child back, the woman glanced back at Chen Mo.

I didn't say thank you, but I nodded.

Chen Mo also nodded.

He didn't continue watching and turned to walk back to the milk tea shop.

As soon as I turned around, I caught a glimpse of someone out of the corner of my eye.

A man with a buzz cut.