novelraw Chapter 102 One Bet
Chapter 102 One Bet
The renovation project of the old factory building in Kwun Tong is progressing at an astonishing pace, thanks to the local renovation team hired by Chan Wing-yan.
Li Jun comes to check on things almost every day.
The empty concrete space was quickly divided into sections:
Professional dance flooring was laid against the wall, and the smooth maple wood gleamed with a warm luster under the sunlight streaming in from the huge north-facing window.
Dozens of foldable tables and chairs were set up in the central area, and blackboards and whiteboards were already in place;
Several small rooms were partitioned off on the west side using light steel keel and plasterboard, serving as offices, dressing rooms and equipment storage areas;
The most eye-catching spot is the southeast corner, where a simple but sturdy square platform, about 30 square meters in size and half a meter off the ground, has been erected using scaffolding and wooden planks. This platform will serve as the future performance area and the core of the simulated filming location.
The air was filled with the smells of fresh paint, sawdust, and cement dust.
The workers shouted in Cantonese, and the sound of electric drills rose and fell.
Li Jun stood in front of the window opening that had not yet been fitted with glass, looking down at the bustling scene of the industrial area below.
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
It's Yuan Tao.
"Li Jun, have you gone mad?"
Yuan Tao's voice was very low, but it revealed obvious anxiety.
"I just received a call directly from Hu Ge's agent! They received your invitation. What do you mean it's your loss if you don't come? Do you know how popular Hu Ge is right now? Countless production teams are begging him for scripts."
"You have a movie that hasn't even been officially approved yet, and a rented factory, and you expect people to turn down film contracts and come to Hong Kong for some kind of closed training, even signing confidentiality agreements and letters of intent?"
Li Jun moved to a relatively quiet corner, away from the noise of the electric drill:
"What was their response?"
"What else could I say? I politely declined."
"They said their schedules didn't match, thank you for the invitation."
Yuan Tao sighed.
"It's similar for Deng Chao and Sun Li. Sun Li's agent was even more direct, asking me if Director Li had some misunderstanding about our Sun Li, thinking she needed this kind of basic training? Li Jun, our foundation is too shallow right now, we can't force it like this."
"It's not about forcing it." Li Jun looked out the window, his tone calm.
"Not forcing it?"
"right."
Li Jun said slowly.
"Old Yuan, let me ask you this: if Hu Ge glances at the invitation and rejects it without a second thought because he feels it's unsuitable or he doesn't have the time, is that the kind of person I want?"
"I don't want a star who's used to being fawned over and obeyed. I want an actor who, even at the height of their fame, is still willing to take risks."
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.
"What if...no one comes?"
Yuan Tao asked.
"You've already set up shop. How are we going to clean it up with the rent, renovations, and subsequent hiring costs?"
"Someone will come."
Li Jun said.
"One is enough. As long as one truly influential person is willing to step through this door, the others will reconsider. The entertainment industry is all about following the crowd, but it's also very susceptible to changing public opinion."
"You're counting on Nicholas Tse?"
Yuan Tao asked.
Did he agree?
"Still waiting for a reply."
Li Jun spoke the truth.
"The week isn't up yet."
"What if he refuses too?"
Li Jun did not answer immediately.
He looked at the brand-new rubber floor in the center of the factory.
Of course, there are risks, but he's not betting on any one person.
"Then keep looking."
Li Jun finally said.
After hanging up the phone, the noise from the renovations flooded my ears again.
Li Jun walked to the edge of the performance platform and reached out to touch the rough edge of the wooden planks.
Just then, the phone rang again.
This time it was an unfamiliar number from Hong Kong.
"Mr. Li, I am Ah Ren."
It is Chen Yongren.
"I have some information that might be useful. I heard that although Hu Ge declined the formal invitation, he privately mentioned to those around him that Li Jun is an interesting person. As for Liu Shishi, she's a bit different."
"How are they different?"
"I asked a friend in mainland China, and Liu Shishi herself did not immediately refuse after receiving the invitation. Instead, she asked a lot of questions, such as the specific training content and the need to sign a letter of intent."
"She's really interested. But many in her company don't approve, feeling that it's too risky for a student to go to Hong Kong for secret training."
Liu Shishi… The image of that girl, who later became known for her cool and classical temperament, flashed through Li Jun's mind. In 2005, she was still at the Beijing Dance Academy, a blank canvas waiting to be painted. Perhaps it was this state that made her more willing to try the unknown than those already famous actors.
"Find a way to bypass her company and contact her directly."
Li Jun said to Chen Yongren.
"I'll send another letter in my personal capacity. Don't mention the workshop; just say I'd like to invite her to Hong Kong to try out a Republic-era schoolgirl look. Travel and accommodation will be covered; consider it a short trip. Let her decide for herself."
"By bypassing the company, Mr. Li, doing so will offend people."
"Is it more important to offend her company or to win her favor personally?"
Li Jun countered with a question.
"She hasn't been fully molded yet, and the company has limited control over her. I want her as a person, not the team behind her."
Chen Yongren clicked his tongue on the other end of the phone:
"Mr. Li, you're getting more and more skilled at shady dealings."
"By the way, what about Lin Jiadong and Wang Zulan?"
"Lin Chia-tung is easy to talk to; he'd be ecstatic to get a movie opportunity. Wong Cho-lan, on the other hand, seems to be more interested in stage plays and voice acting, but she seems to have big ambitions for movies. You'll have to persuade her personally."
"Understood. First, arrange a meeting with Lin Jiadong. He can decide the time and place; the sooner the better."
By the time all this was done, it was nearly dusk.
Li Jun left the factory building and walked slowly along the chaotic yet vibrant streets of Kwun Tong.
Passing by the food stalls, the aroma of roasted meats mixed with the smell of stir-fried dishes wafted towards me.
He found a plastic stool, sat down, and ordered a plate of stir-fried beef noodles and iced lemon tea.
The food was rustic but full of the aroma of a wok, and it warmed you up nicely in your stomach after eating it.
He ate while organizing his thoughts.
Recruiting actors requires patience and strategy, and the search for behind-the-scenes technical talent is equally demanding.
Yuan Tao's investigation in Beijing will take time, and he himself needs to take the initiative in Hong Kong.
He recalled the colorist he had seen at "Wan Ying Production" during the day. His surname was Zhou, and he was a taciturn middle-aged man. But when he was adjusting the color tones of those violent scenes on the screen, his eyes were as focused as if he were sculpting a work of art.
There's also Master Li from the Li Family Clothing Store, whose hands are covered in calluses, but whose research on fabrics and historical details is almost obsessive.
These people are the true backbone of the film industry.
Their skills and experience cannot be quickly replicated no matter how much money you have.
Binding them to their cause makes Li Jun feel more secure than signing a few celebrities.
Just then, my phone screen lit up with a text message from Tang Yan, containing only two words:
"knock off."
It was followed by a small moon emoji.
Li Jun looked at those two words, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously curved into a smile. He quickly replied:
Are you tired?
Almost instant reply:
"A little. But I really enjoyed acting in a play today."
A few seconds later, another message appeared:
Is it still raining in Hong Kong?
Li Jun looked up at the last rays of sunset on the horizon:
"It's stopped. The sun is out."
"That's good. Remember to eat on time."
Tang Yan's replies were always like this: understated, without many sweet words, but his care was evident in the details.
Li Jun thought of Zhang Liangying; she was probably still at some event, surrounded by flashing lights and microphones.
After winning the championship, her schedule will only get busier.
He hesitated for a moment and didn't send the message.
Sometimes, appropriate distance and silence are more important than frequent contact, especially when the relationship is in a delicate tension.
After finishing his beef noodles, he paid the bill, got up, and slowly walked back to the hotel.
The room window was still open, and the night breeze from Victoria Harbour, carrying moisture, blew in, cool and humid.
On the table lay the ever-thickening script notes and storyboard sketches for "Bodyguards and Assassins".
He turned on the desk lamp, sat down at the table, and began to organize the things he needed to do tomorrow:
Continue to refine the staging concepts for several key scenes in the script;
Follow up on the progress of factory renovation;
Waiting for Nicholas Tse's reply;
Preparing for a meeting with Lin Jiadong;
I also need to take some time to visit that colorist surnamed Zhou and Master Li, even if it's just for a casual chat, to establish contact.
........
A few days later, Li Jun met Lin Jiadong at a corner tea restaurant in Mong Kok.
Lin Jiadong looks thinner and more ordinary than he does on TV.
He arrived early, dressed in a simple polo shirt and casual pants, and sat alone in a booth reading a newspaper.
Upon seeing Li Jun, he immediately stood up, shook hands, and smiled politely but with a hint of restraint.
"Director Li, hello."
His Mandarin had a distinct Cantonese accent, but he spoke very earnestly.
"Mr. Lin, I'm sorry to arrange to meet in a place like this."
Li Jun sat down opposite him.
It's noisy and bustling here, but surprisingly private; no one will pay much attention to a familiar supporting character.
"It's okay, I like it here, I feel comfortable."
Lin Jiadong smiled憨厚ly and waved to order a cup of Hong Kong-style milk tea.
After exchanging pleasantries, Li Jun got straight to the point:
"Mr. Lin has acted in many plays—police officers, lawyers, ordinary citizens, villains…you name it. Don't you feel like something's missing?"
Lin Jiadong paused in his milk tea drinking, looked up at Li Jun, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes, followed by a wry smile:
"Director Li speaks very bluntly. It's like I'm missing out on a memorable role. I have a lot of screen time, but the audience doesn't recognize me."
"It's not just a matter of being one breath away."
Li Jun shook his head.
"It's missing a spark. You acted too well, so well that every role was well-executed and flawless, but it just didn't ignite. You lack a role that can bring out that bit of resentment, that bit of frustration, and even that bit of ruthlessness in your heart."
Lin Jiadong's knuckles, which were gripping the milk tea cup, turned slightly white.
He remained silent for a long while before whispering:
"How did Director Li know I was resentful?"
Li Jun said:
"When you look at those main characters, there's envy and resentment in your eyes. You feel like you could act too, but you just haven't had the chance."
These words were like a needle, precisely piercing through a certain disguise.
Lin Jiadong's shoulders slumped slightly, then slowly straightened up again.
"I have a role."
Li Jun took a piece of paper from his bag and pushed it over:
"His role isn't the most prominent, but it's crucial. He's a bodyguard carrying a secret. Most of the time, he's like a shadow following the protagonist, with hardly any lines."
But in the end, when everyone else hesitated or broke down, it was he who, in the most decisive way, pushed things to their conclusion.
Lin Jiadong picked up the page, which contained only simple character descriptions and a few lines of key scene prompts.
He looked at it very slowly and carefully.
"Why me?"
He looked up, his eyes bloodshot.
"There are plenty of actors who can play this role."
"Because you can play the role of silence well."
Li Jun looked at him.
"Many actors' silences are empty; they are waiting for their lines."
The tea restaurant was bustling with noise, and a boring variety show was playing on the TV.
But in their tiny corner of the booth, the air seemed to freeze.
Lin Jiadong stared at the page, then looked at Li Jun. The young director's gaze was calm and resolute, devoid of condescension or arrogance.
"What kind of training?"
he asks.
"It will be ten times more tiring than filming for TVB."
Li Jun spoke the truth.
"Physical training, combat, firearms, and performance workshops—re-engineering your acting habits, removing your television persona, and transforming it into the precision and restraint required for film. It will take a long time; you might not have any income or exposure for several months."
"Is there a script?"
"The full script is still being polished, but I can give you the part about this character first. During training, we will do a lot of practice and readings around this character."
Lin Jiadong took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He picked up the slightly cooled milk tea and drank it all in one gulp, as if he had made up his mind.
"I'll take it."
He said the sound wasn't loud.
"When can we begin?"
"Once the factory renovations are complete and the mentors are in place, we'll begin. About three weeks from now."
Li Jun said.
"During this time, you can handle the work at hand or start doing some physical preparation."
"Okay." Lin Jiadong nodded, then asked somewhat shyly.
"Director Li, the pay..."
"Payment will be made in stages based on performance during training and the amount of screen time in the final cut."
It won't be less than what you'd earn filming a TVB drama; if the movie is successful, you'll earn even more.
Li Jun offered a pragmatic solution.
"But the prerequisite is that you have to prove you're worth the price."
"I see."
Lin Jiadong didn't haggle; instead, he breathed a sigh of relief.
This method of letting performance speak for itself makes him feel at ease.
It was already dark when we left the tea restaurant.
The neon lights lit up one after another, turning the street into a hazy, dreamlike scene.
Lin Jiadong insisted on escorting Li Jun to the subway station.
"Director Li."
As he was leaving, he suddenly said something.
"Thank you. No one has ever spoken to me like that before, and no one has ever given me a role like this."
"You're welcome."
Li Jun patted him on the shoulder.
"Thank yourself. It's because you were well-prepared that I was able to see it. Prepare well, and don't let me down."
Watching Lin Jiadong's slightly thin but upright figure disappear into the crowds of Mong Kok, Li Jun felt a little more at ease.
Lin Jiadong's joining may not be as significant as Nicholas Tse's, but it is an important signal that his investment model is feasible.
It can move actors who are on the fringes of mainstream attention but are truly talented and eager to succeed.
As soon as I got back to the hotel, Chen Yongren called, his voice brimming with excitement:
"Mr. Li, Liu Shishi has responded. She has agreed to come to Hong Kong, just like you said, under the guise of trying on a new look. Her flight is in three days. She didn't tell the company she was definitely coming; she just said she'd be in Hong Kong for a few days to visit a friend."
"it is good."
Li Jun's spirits lifted.
"Arrange for someone to pick you up from the airport, book a hotel that's close to the factory and quiet."
The costumes and makeup artists for the styling trial were also prepared in advance.
"no problem!"
Chen Yongren paused.
"However, Mr. Li, Xie Tingfeng will be here in about a week."
"I know."
Li Jun said.
Waiting is not a pleasant experience.
Although Lin Jiadong has been secured and Liu Shishi is also on the way, Nicholas Tse is the key to success.
His attitude will determine the initial weight and appeal of this project within the industry.
Li Jun forced himself to shift his attention to other things.
He visited Master Zhou of "Wan Ying Productions," but did not directly discuss cooperation. Instead, he asked about some technical issues related to color grading and talked about the aesthetics of film lighting.
Master Zhou was initially a bit reserved, but his eyes lit up when the topic turned to his profession. Especially when Li Jun mentioned the possible cinematography for "Bodyguards and Assassins," Master Zhou pondered for a long time before saying:
"It's a bit challenging, but interesting."
He also visited "Li's Clothing Shop" again to see Master Li and his apprentices rushing to make a batch of costumes for theatrical productions during the Republic of China era.
Li Jun made more specific demands on the degree of aging of a long gown, not just simple dirt and tears, but to reflect the hardships and trials the person wearing it had gone through.
Upon hearing this, Master Li not only didn't find it troublesome, but nodded in agreement:
"Mr. Li understands. Clothes can talk."
These subtle exchanges are like planting seeds.
Li Jun wasn't in a hurry. He knew that truly capable people valued not just money, but also the feeling of being understood and respected, and an interest in challenging work.
On the afternoon of the third day, Li Jun waited for Liu Shishi at the factory in Kwun Tong.
Chen Yongren personally went to pick him up at the airport.
When the girl, dressed in a simple white dress, carrying a backpack, and with no makeup, got out of the car and looked at the old industrial building with a mixture of curiosity and timidity, Li Jun was almost in a daze.
The Liu Shishi before me was so young, as clean as the morning dew.
She lacked the cool and aloof temperament that comes with age and experience; instead, she possessed a gentle and innocent quality, untouched by the ways of the world.
But as she stood there, her back straight and her neck long, the physical beauty she had cultivated through her dance career was already subtly revealed.
"Director Li, hello."
Liu Shishi bowed slightly, her voice soft, her Mandarin carrying a slight southern accent.
"Thank you for your help."
"No trouble at all, you must have had a long journey."
Li Jun led her into the factory.
"This place is still under renovation, so it's a bit messy."
Liu Shishi looked around curiously, her gaze lingering for a moment on the performance platform and the huge blackboard wall.
"Is this a movie filming location?"
"This is where we prepare for the movie."
Li Jun led her to the makeshift dressing room and fitting area.
"Let's try out the styling first."
The makeup artist and costume assistant he hired are ready.
The clothing consisted of two sets of Republic-era female student outfits prepared by Li Jun based on Master Li's advice.
One outfit consisted of a blue cotton top and a black skirt, while the other consisted of a pale white top and dark trousers.
The fabrics are all old-fashioned cotton cloths that were specially sourced, with a simple and rustic texture.
Liu Shishi went to change her clothes.
When she walked out wearing that blue cotton dress, the noisy factory seemed to fall silent for a moment.
The clothes didn't fit well; they were a bit too big, and the color made her skin look rather pale.
But it was precisely this ill-fitting clothes that erased the last trace of modernity from her.
She stood there, head slightly bowed, fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes, her eyes clear yet tinged with a hint of bewilderment.
She was exactly like an old-fashioned female student who had just stepped out of her study and into a turbulent era.
Li Jun didn't speak, he just watched quietly.
The makeup artist picked up scissors and carefully trimmed her bangs, adjusting her hairstyle so that a few strands of hair would fall naturally beside her cheeks.
She then used the lightest makeup to slightly deepen her eyebrows and lip color, emphasizing her youthful fullness, while lightly sweeping shadows across her eye sockets to add a touch of melancholy.
Throughout the process, Liu Shishi cooperated well, but her body was somewhat stiff.
She wasn't used to being scrutinized and groomed so meticulously.
"relax."
Li Jun suddenly spoke up.
"Imagine you've just come out of school, holding a copy of 'New Youth' in your hand."
I felt a little excited, as if a new era was about to begin, but also a little scared, wondering what lay ahead.
A breeze blew by, it was a bit chilly, so you hugged your books tighter.
As Liu Shishi listened, her eyes slowly regained focus.
She subconsciously hugged her arms, and the lines of her shoulders and neck softened.
Li Jun picked up a film camera that he had prepared; it was an old-fashioned machine that he had specially found.
He had Liu Shishi stand by the huge north window, where the sunlight streamed in from the side, creating a soft division on her face.
Click.
The shutter clicked crisply.
The photo slowly emerged.
Li Jun waited for a few minutes, and the image gradually became clear.
The girl in the photo, standing against a rough industrial backdrop, seems to have created her own tranquil yet melancholic world.
The light and shadow outlined her features, and her eyes, gazing beyond the camera lens, were clear yet seemed to be filled with unspeakable thoughts.
The sense of the era conveyed by her Republic-era attire blends wonderfully with her own clean and youthful charm, creating a unique aesthetic.
Li Jun handed her the photo.
Liu Shishi took the photo, looked down at herself in the picture, and stared at it for a long time.
Then, she looked up, her eyes sparkling with the wonder of discovering a new continent.
"Is...me?"
She asked softly.
"That's who you can become."
Li Jun said.
Liu Shishi looked down at the photo again, her fingers gently tracing the edge.
When she looked up again, the timidity in her eyes had lessened considerably.
"Director Li."
She asked:
"The training you mentioned, will it really teach me how to look like this in front of the camera?"
"cannot."
Li Jun's answer surprised her.
"Training can't turn you into someone else; it can only help you find the parts of yourself that are suitable for the camera and the story."
The feeling in a photo is partly due to the styling and lighting, but more importantly, it's because you are there, you just haven't fully realized it yet.
Liu Shishi seemed to understand, but she listened very attentively.
"The training will be tough, and you won't see results for a long time. It might even overturn what you've learned before."
Li Jun continued.
"Besides, even after training is complete, there's no guarantee of getting a role. My film has a long production cycle and could potentially fail. Are you willing to take the gamble?"