Rebirth 02, the Celestial Being Told Me to Stop Pretending

Tian Zhuangzhuang's office is on the third floor of the Faculty Building. There is a handwritten name card on the door, the handwriting is messy, but it has been there for at least ten years.

The paper had turned yellow and the edges were curling up, so I used two strips of transparent tape to fix it.

When Lu Chen knocked on the door and went in, Tian Zhuangzhuang was making tea.

"Sit down." Tian Zhuangzhuang didn't even look up, poured boiling water into an enamel cup, and the tea leaves tumbled in the water.

Lu Chen sat down in the chair opposite the desk.

The office was small, with bookshelves piled high with videotapes and scripts. On the windowsill sat a half-dead pothos plant, its leaves drooping as if it hadn't been watered for days.

"Tell me, what project?" Tian Zhuangzhuang picked up his cup, blew on it, and took a sip.

Lu Chen placed the notebook on the table and opened to the first page.

"Low-budget comedy, dark humor, multi-narrative structure. Budget under three million, expected box office over ten million."

Tian Zhuangzhuang glanced at him: "Ten million? What can a student like you guarantee?"

"Take this."

Lu Chen turned to the next page, "In the current Chinese film market, art films win awards but nobody watches them, while commercial films make money but get universally panned. Audiences need something new—something that's entertaining without being vulgar, commercial yet artistic. Dark humor combined with multi-narrative structures is the answer."

"You make it sound so simple," Tian Zhuangzhuang said, putting down her cup.

"No one in China has ever done this kind of thing before, how do you know the audience will like it?"

"It's not that the audience doesn't need it, it's that no one is giving them a choice," Lu Chen said.

"Teacher Tian, ​​you showed 'Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels' and 'Snatch' in your film analysis class, and you saw the students' reactions. The way they laughed wasn't because they were amused by the jokes, but because they were amused by the structure. After laughing, they were still thinking, 'This is what good comedy is.'"

He did indeed show Guy Ritchie's films in his film analysis classes, and he did see the students' reactions.

That reaction was different from when I watched Stephen Chow.

Stephen Chow's laughter is instantaneous and instinctive, while Guy Ritchie's laughter is delayed and structured, and afterwards you can't help but slap your thigh and say "wonderful!"

"Where is your team?" Tian Zhuangzhuang asked.

Assistant Director Ning Hao, Acting Director Zhang Songwen, Cinematographer Zhao Bo.

"Ning Hao?" Tian Zhuangzhuang frowned. "The one from the photography department?"

"right."

"Which teacher in the acting department is Zhang Songwen?"

"right."

Tian Zhuangzhuang was silent for a while, then slowly said, "The two people you found are both dirt poor."

"Only poor people are willing to gamble."

Tian Zhuangzhuang glanced at him again, and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly.

"You contacted me because you want me to help you find money?"

"I would like to ask you to introduce me to Han Shangping."

Tian Zhuangzhuang paused for a moment: "Han Shangping? From China Film Group?"

"right."

"Do you know who he is?"

"The vice chairman of China Film Group can approve investments," Lu Chen said.

"He doesn't care about a project's background; he only looks at the rate of return. Three million isn't much to him, but the key is to show him the project's potential."

Tian Zhuangzhuang put down her cup, leaned back in her chair, and looked at the ceiling for a moment.

"I do know Han Shangping. We worked together when he was still at Beijing Film Studio."

Tian Zhuangzhuang said, "But I can't directly introduce you to someone. You have to show me first that your project is indeed reliable."

"What would you like to see?"

"The complete script."

"The outline is ready, but the complete script will take another week."

"Too long," Tian Zhuangzhuang said. "Give me the complete script within three days, and I'll help you arrange a meeting with Han Shangping."

"OK."

Lu Chen stood up, picked up his notebook, and prepared to leave.

"Wait a minute," Tian Zhuangzhuang called out to him, "There's one more thing."

"What is it? Tell me."

"Your short film was technically good, but it was too cluttered." Tian Zhuangzhuang's tone was as unhurried as in class.

"You try to express everything, but end up expressing nothing fully. Making a feature film is different; you have to learn to leave room for interpretation. Let the audience figure things out for themselves; don't think for them."

Lu Chen nodded: "I've got it."

Tian Zhuangzhuang was willing to introduce Han Shangping to him not only because of her appreciation for Lu Chen, but also because she saw a reflection of her younger self in him.

As Lu Chen walked out of Tian Zhuangzhuang's office, he stood in the corridor and let out a sigh of relief.

The first step was successful, and the investment was secured.

At 3 p.m., Zhang Songwen and Ning Hao met in the rehearsal hall.

Lu Chen introduced the two to each other, and then spread the script outline on the table.

"This is the complete outline, over ten thousand words. Ning Hao has already read it, Professor Zhang, you should take a look too."

Zhang Songwen picked up the notebook, flipped through a few pages, and then put it down.

"I finished reading it yesterday," Zhang Songwen said. "The copy you gave me."

Lu Chen was taken aback. He had only given Zhang Songwen a simplified outline yesterday, not the complete version.

"The version you gave me was a simplified one," Zhang Songwen noticed his confusion, "but it's enough. The structure is clear, the characters are believable, and the jokes are well-placed."

"And what's your opinion?"

"I have a question," Zhang Songwen said, looking at Lu Chen. "Who are you planning to cast as Four-Eyes?"

"you."

Zhang Songwen was silent for two seconds: "You want me to act?"

"Yes. The character of Four-Eyes doesn't have many scenes, but every scene is a key turning point. He needs someone who doesn't appear often but can command the scene every time. Only someone who truly understands acting can play this kind of role well."

Zhang Songwen didn't speak, but his fingers tapped lightly on the table, a habitual gesture he made when he was thinking.

"I can act," Zhang Songwen said, "but I have one condition."

"What are the conditions?"

"I decide the actors' performances. You can tell them what to think, but how to act is up to me."

Lu Chen glanced at him, then smiled: "Deal."

Ning Hao listened from the side, a slight smile playing on his lips. He had just been wondering how these two would get along, but they had reached an agreement in just three sentences.

"Then I'll make a condition too," Ning Hao said.

"explain."

"I need to change the script's dialogue. Not drastically, but to make the characters speak more like human beings."

"no problem."

The three people looked at each other, but did not shake hands, sign anything, or even exchange any pleasantries.

But Lu Chen knew that from this moment on, "Diamond" would no longer belong to him alone.

Back in his dorm that evening, Lu Chen sat at his desk working on his script.

He needed to expand the outline of more than 10,000 words into a complete script and deliver it to Tian Zhuangzhuang within three days.

Time was tight, but he remained calm.

In his past life, he had watched "Crazy Stone" more than once, and perhaps because of his rebirth, he had an exceptionally good memory.

Every scene, every line, and every transition is etched in my mind.

All he has to do now is write them down.

The pen tip landed on the paper as if being pushed along by something.

Those scenes weren't something he came up with word by word; they just flowed directly from his mind.

Lu Chen's hand was sore from writing until 2 a.m. He put down his pen, stretched his fingers, and glanced out the window.

The streetlights downstairs were still on, and the ginkgo trees had all fallen leaves, their bare branches casting dappled shadows under the lights.

He picked up his phone and scrolled to Liu Yifei's name.

And seventy-six pieces.

He stared at his phone screen for a few seconds, thinking of sending a text message, but ultimately put it down.

Lu Chen smiled, picked up his pen, and continued writing.