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

On the day of the audition.

Wang Bao arrived forty minutes earlier than the agreed time.

He was wearing a newly bought white T-shirt, but his pants were still the same patched ones, because he only had two pairs of pants, and the other pair hadn't dried yet after being washed yesterday.

He stood downstairs, smoked a cigarette, stubbed it out, threw it in the trash can, and then pulled a crumpled A4 sheet of paper from his pocket, covered with dense writing.

Those were the audition lines that Xu Zhinian sent him yesterday. He found a printing shop and paid two yuan to print them out. He also marked the pinyin and stress with a ballpoint pen, and circled some of the characters he didn't recognize.

He silently recited his lines from beginning to end, put away the paper, and went upstairs.

The rehearsal hall was small, with a row of folding chairs against the wall, leaving a large empty space in the middle, and gray rubber flooring on the floor.

Xu Zhinian had arrived and was talking to someone standing in a corner.

The man was in his early forties, of medium height, with a lean and fit build; the muscle definition in his arms was visible even through his clothes.

He has a buzz cut, a square face, and high cheekbones.

This man's name is Zhao Hengshan.

director.

Zhao Hengshan isn't exactly a big name in the industry. He's never won a Golden Rooster or Hundred Flowers Award, and he's rarely made headlines in the entertainment section. But in the niche field of action films, if you mention his name, those in the know will nod in agreement.

He entered the industry in his early twenties, starting as a martial arts actor. He spent over ten years working on film sets, suffering dozens of injuries, big and small. He ruptured the meniscus in his left knee once, dislocated his right shoulder twice, and still has a steel nail in his lower back that hasn't been removed yet.

At the age of thirty-five, he switched careers to become a director, making only action films. His output was low, taking three years to complete one film, and the quality of the action scenes in each film was a benchmark in the industry.

When Wang Bao entered the rehearsal hall, Zhao Hengshan was talking to Xu Zhinian with his back to the door. Hearing footsteps, he turned around and glanced at Wang Bao.

Just one glance.

His gaze swept from Wang Bao's feet to the top of his head, then back to his feet, and finally settled on his hands.

Wang Bao's fingers were short and thick with wide knuckles. There was a thick layer of calluses on the web between his thumb and forefinger. These calluses were not from doing rough work, but from years of holding sticks and clenching fists. They were different in shape and location.

Zhao Hengshan was a martial arts practitioner, and he recognized those hands at a glance.

He didn't speak, but looked away and nodded at Xu Zhinian.

Xu Zhinian walked over, greeted Wang Bao, and gave a brief introduction.

"This is Director Zhao Hengshan, the director of our film."

Wang Bao quickly reached out and shook his hand vigorously again.

"Hello Director Zhao, my name is Wang Bao."

Zhao Hengshan shook his hand twice, subtly assessing the strength of his grip, and nodded.

"Let's try the literary scenes first, the first scene."

After Zhao Hengshan finished speaking, he stepped back and sat down on the folding chair next to him, leaning against the back of the chair with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Xu Zhinian handed his lines to an assistant director next to him, asking the assistant director to read his co-star's lines.

Wang Bao stood in the middle of the rehearsal hall.

The first scene is Feng Yuxiu talking to his master, who advises him to stop fighting. Feng Yuxiu then gives a monologue about "fist".

Wang Bao opened his mouth.

He had indeed memorized his lines perfectly, not missing a single word, but the way he read them sounded stiff, like he was reciting a text. His tone was flat, and he couldn't muster the emotions he should have. He didn't know when to pause, and the whole passage sounded like a straight line without any curves.

Even his Hebei accent couldn't be suppressed; several words were pronounced with obvious dialectal endings.

Xu Zhinian sat beside him, his brows furrowing slightly, but he remained silent.

Zhao Hengshan's expression didn't change much; his arms were still crossed, and he squinted at Wang Bao.

"Let's do it again," Zhao Hengshan said.

Wang Bao read it again, and it was slightly better than the first time, but still not much better.

Zhao Hengshan offered no comment, simply uttering two words.

"Martial arts scenes."

Wang Bao's eyes lit up.

The second audition was for a fight scene.

With no opponent, Zhao Hengshan asked him to practice his bare-handed punches first.

Wang Bao took a deep breath, stepped back two paces, and stood still.

He was still practicing Shaolin Long Fist, but it was different from the one he showed Xu Zhinian in the alley the day before yesterday.

The routine from the day before yesterday was a demonstration of basic skills, very proper and methodical.

Today's outfit carries an emotional tone.

Perhaps because of his poor performance in the first dramatic scene, he was holding back a grudge, and he channeled all that grudge into his fist.

The speed of his punches was much faster than the day before yesterday. With each punch, the twisting of his waist and hips carried a sense of pressure. The wind from his punches whistled through the rehearsal hall, and even the floor squeaked from the friction of his feet.

With the final whip kick, his trouser leg snapped crisply in the air. As he finished, he stood firmly in place, a bead of sweat sliding from his forehead to his chin, hanging on the tip of his chin before being shaken off by his breath.

The rehearsal hall was silent for several seconds.

The assistant director's mouth was slightly open, and he forgot to put down the script in his hand.

Xu Zhinian glanced in Zhao Hengshan's direction.

Zhao Hengshan's sitting posture changed.

He went from leaning back in his chair to leaning forward, resting his arms on his knees, his eyes fixed on Wang Bao, his gaze completely different from before.

"Where did you put the power in that last whip kick?" Zhao Hengshan suddenly asked.

Wang Bao paused for a moment, thought for a second, and said, "Hips."

"Yes, it's the hip."

Zhao Hengshan nodded.

"Your hip rotation speed is very fast, but when you landed your leg, your center of gravity didn't return to center; it shifted to the left by about two inches. Do you know why?"

Wang Bao shook his head.

"Because you have a history of injury to your right knee."

Wang Bao's eyes widened suddenly.

"Director Zhao, how...how did you know?"

"When you lift your leg, there is a very subtle twitch in your right knee. Most people can't see it, but someone who has practiced martial arts can see it at a glance."

Zhao Hengshan stood up and walked up to Wang Bao: "What injuries did you sustain?"

"I was practicing the Whirlwind Kick at Shaolin Temple when I fell and injured myself. It took me three months to recover."

Zhao Hengshan squatted down and reached out to press on the outside of Wang Bao's right knee. Wang Bao didn't make a sound.

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"It's fine now, it just gets a little sore when the weather changes."

Zhao Hengshan stood up, took a step back, and looked Wang Bao up and down for a while.

Then he turned to look at Xu Zhinian.

"The dialogue was really bad, much worse."

Xu Zhinian's heart sank.

Zhao Hengshan continued speaking.

"But Feng Yuxiu's role doesn't have much dialogue. There are only four or five long monologues, and the rest are all action scenes. Problems with the lines can be made up for in post-production dubbing. We can also practice intensively before filming so as not to hold us back."

Xu Zhinian's heart calmed down a little.

"In terms of martial arts,"

Zhao Hengshan slowed down his speech, as if he was carefully considering each word.

"His basic skills are very solid. He has a solid foundation from six years of training at Shaolin Temple. His power generation structure in Changquan is correct. He has good coordination and explosive power. Most importantly, he doesn't panic when he's boxing. His sense of rhythm is innate."

Zhao Hengshan paused for a moment.

"When filming action scenes, the two types of actors are the most feared. One type is those who have no skills and rely entirely on stunt doubles and editing, while the other type has skills but cannot control their power and is prone to injuring their opponents. He is neither of the two. He knows when to throw a heavy punch and when to hold back, and he knows where to draw the line. When this kind of person is on set, the action director has less to worry about, and the other actors also have less to worry about."

Xu Zhinian already had a good idea of ​​what was going on when he heard this, but he didn't rush to express his opinion because it wasn't something he should make.

When it comes to casting, screenwriters can offer suggestions and recommendations, but the final decision rests with the director. The director is the one who brings the characters from the page to the screen, and their judgment on whether an actor is suitable is the most accurate.

He looked at Zhao Hengshan, waiting for him to continue.

Zhao Hengshan walked up to Wang Bao, and the two stood face to face.

One of them is a director who has worked his way up in the film industry for twenty years. He has a broken meniscus in his left knee, a dislocated right shoulder, and a steel nail in his lower back.

One was a country boy who spent six years at the Shaolin Temple. He had bruised his knees and the back of his head, and at most, he never had more than three thousand yuan in his pocket.

"Why do you want to be an actor?" Zhao Hengshan asked.

Wang Bao did not hesitate.

"I want to earn money to build a house back home so my mom can live in an apartment building."

"That's it?"

"There's one more," Wang Bao grinned. "I've practiced martial arts for six years, I have to let people see it."

Zhao Hengshan stared into his eyes for three seconds.

Zhao Hengshan was very familiar with the light shining in those small eyes, because when he entered the industry at the age of twenty, his own eyes also had that same light.

"I'll be joining the crew the day after tomorrow, so I need to be there before 8 a.m.," Zhao Hengshan said.

Wang Bao was stunned again.

"What...what does this mean?"

"It means you've passed." Zhao Hengshan patted his shoulder, quite forcefully.

"The role of Feng Yuxiu is yours."

Wang Bao's lips trembled slightly.

"Thank you, Director Zhao."

He then turned around and bowed to Xu Zhinian.

"Thank you, screenwriter Xu..."

Finally, he took out his phone, found Chen Mo's WeChat, typed three words, and sent them to him.

"Thank you, Brother Chen."

The other side quickly replied with a single word.

"polite."