Chapter Seventy-Two: The Selection of the Heroine

After entering the lobby of Hong Kong Radio, Yan Xu was greeted by a host of familiar faces—a grand gathering of film people.

“Xu, you’re late,” called Chen Long as soon as Yan Xu stepped into the hall.

“Brother Long,” Yan Xu responded, leading Zhou Hui Min over. “I got caught up by the reporters outside.”

“This must be Zhou Hui Min, right? She’s even more beautiful in person,” Chen Long remarked, having seen her photos in her profile. The pictures were striking enough, but meeting her in real life was a revelation.

“Hello, Brother Long,” Zhou Hui Min greeted him.

“You’ve got great taste,” Chen Long said, eyeing Zhou Hui Min up and down, nudging Yan Xu with his elbow and giving him the knowing look all men understand. He had long noticed Yan Xu’s special attention to Zhou Hui Min.

Yan Xu covered his embarrassment with a quiet cough, and Zhou Hui Min, shy, excused herself to mingle with other acquaintances in the circle.

“How’s the film coming along? She should have no problem playing Ah Mei, right?” Yan Xu asked.

“No problem at all,” Chen Long nodded. Though Ah Mei was an important character in this male-centric film, her screen time wasn’t extensive—so as long as her acting was passable, it would suffice. “The movie’s almost ready for announcement. In a few days, the company will make it official, and this time, my new company, Wei He, will be producing it,” he declared, brimming with excitement.

“Zou agreed to you starting a new company?” Yan Xu looked at Chen Long in surprise. “That deserves congratulations.” History seemed to repeat itself; Police Story had been the inaugural film of Wei He Company, and though this film was starting a few months earlier, the company’s founding was likewise ahead of schedule.

“Zou made the announcement at my birthday a few days ago. It was the best gift I got this year,” Chen Long beamed.

“Did you get the birthday gift I sent? I’ve been tied up preparing for my new film, so I couldn’t make it,” Yan Xu asked. He’d received the invitation to Chen Long’s birthday party but, caught up in his own project, had only managed to send a gift.

“I got it. It’s Honda’s latest model this year. I love the black,” Chen Long said. Yan Xu had given him a new Honda motorcycle, a unique design—perfect for a straightforward guy like Chen Long.

“I thought of sending you a good bottle of wine, but figured you’d have more than enough at your birthday, so I settled on the bike instead.”

“Wine would be wasted on me—I’m not one for refinement, just a rough fellow. White liquor suits me better,” Chen Long laughed. “So, how’s your new film coming along? When does shooting start?”

“It’s nearly ready, except for the female lead,” Yan Xu sighed. “You know everyone in the business—can you help me find someone?” He’d exhausted almost all his connections over this issue.

“What are your requirements?” Chen Long asked.

“First, she has to be beautiful,” Yan Xu replied.

“That’s obvious. Who’d cast an ugly lead?” Chen Long joked.

“Preferably short hair—a strong, decisive look, with an aura of competence. She must have acting experience, not necessarily stellar, but enough to handle herself in front of the camera,” Yan Xu listed his criteria.

“Sounds a lot like Lin Qing Xia,” Chen Long observed with a glance.

“I’d love to cast her, but I don’t have the pull to ask her, and this is a somewhat bloody horror film—she might not agree to the role,” Yan Xu replied.

“How about Hu Hui Zhong?” Chen Long suggested.

“She’s good, and talented, but her aura is too forceful—too much heroic energy,” Yan Xu mused. Though Hu Hui Zhong had started in art films, he always pictured her as an action heroine; the role of ‘Queen Flower’ had left a deep impression on him.

“How about Hong Gu?”

“Hong Gu’s acting is excellent, and she fits the image, but the budget for this film is only one million, and her fee is a bit steep,” Yan Xu said, embarrassed. Their small company couldn’t compete with the likes of Golden Harvest or Cinema City, where million-dollar salaries were routine.

Zhong Chu Hong was currently at the pinnacle of Hong Kong cinema: versatile, beautiful, and a huge draw at the box office. Recently, she’d acted in several art films at reduced rates, but for commercial films, her fee wouldn’t budge—and it was at least half the production budget, which Yan Xu simply couldn’t afford.

“So, who then?” Chen Long pondered, turning his gaze, unable to think of a suitable candidate.

“I do have someone in mind who fits your criteria,” said a voice suddenly from nearby, just as Chen Long was racking his brains.

“Wang Jing, when did you get here? You’re pretty sneaky—I didn’t even notice you,” Yan Xu said, spotting the chubby man. He hadn’t seen him before, and with Wang Jing’s size, he should have been hard to miss.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping—I’ve been chatting with others nearby. You just didn’t see me, but with your voices, it’s hard not to overhear,” Wang Jing pointed beside them. A huge potted plant stood next to Yan Xu and Chen Long, just big enough to conceal him.

“So, who’s your candidate?” Yan Xu wasn’t interested in pursuing Wang Jing’s eavesdropping; he was much more curious about his suggestion.

“This new film—you mean the one we talked about last time?” Wang Jing asked, intrigued.

“Yes,” Yan Xu nodded. “After that, I developed the idea, finished the script, and the preparations are almost done. It’s a story about a house.”

As Yan Xu and Wang Jing got caught up in conversation, Chen Long said his goodbyes and left—there were many connections to attend to in such a gathering.

“Houses are all the rage now. Are you really planning to make a female-centric film?” Wang Jing asked.

“Of course. All that’s missing is the female lead.”

“Your company is generous, letting you make whatever you want,” Wang Jing said, envious. At Shaw Brothers, he had to deal with endless restrictions; even a script had to go through countless approvals, and directors had to shoot as instructed from above.

“The company isn’t all that optimistic about this one—they’re only betting on my previous successes, and funds are tight. Who’s your candidate? If she’s too expensive, I can’t afford her,” Yan Xu pressed.

“She’s a real beauty, and her acting is solid. She started in TV drama, has appeared in several series, and in recent years has made a few films. She fits your criteria, and her parents are both veterans in the industry,” Wang Jing said mysteriously.

“Who is she?” Yan Xu’s curiosity grew.

“I won’t tell you yet—when are you free? I’ll have her contact you directly,” Wang Jing replied.

“Playing mysterious, are you? I’m off to Taiwan after the Golden Awards. When I get back, I’ll call you,” Yan Xu said.