Chapter Forty-Three: Song Mingxi

On October 9th, Gu Zhi arrived alone at Zhongying Film Studio.

Yesterday, when Liu Qi called to inform him about the piracy issue, he took the opportunity to arrange a meeting with Han Sanping to discuss a new project.

After their collaboration on “Butterfly Effect,” both Gu Zhi and Zhongying were thoroughly satisfied. Han Sanping personally admired Gu Zhi’s abilities, and the prospect of working together on the next film was a natural progression for both sides.

At this moment, in Zhongying’s office, Han Sanping, Gu Zhi, and Liu Qi were deliberating over the new movie project.

Ever since the release of “Butterfly Effect,” Liu Qi’s status had risen considerably; she could now officially participate in projects overseen by Han Sanping. She had contributed much to the previous film, though her name never appeared in the credits. For this next movie, as long as she continued to be involved in production, carrying the title of producer would pose no problem.

After graduating from Beijing Normal University, Liu Qi had remained by Han Sanping’s side as his secretary, now in her third year. From secretarial duties to the minutiae of film production, she learned everything through perseverance and a willingness to take each step herself.

Han Sanping took note of her diligence, keeping her close, but never made a point of instructing her—her progress depended entirely on her own initiative.

Only when Gu Zhi approached them did Liu Qi finally get a chance to properly participate in production.

Originally, Han Sanping had little expectation for “Butterfly Effect”; he viewed it as an experiment, since it was a team of newcomers working on the film, and included Liu Qi to allow her to gain experience.

The outcome exceeded his expectations, and Liu Qi’s contribution spoke for itself. If she successfully produced another film, she could become an official producer at Zhongying.

Just then, Gu Zhi came knocking again.

“Isn’t the female lead a little too violent?” Han Sanping asked after reading the script, his brows furrowed, confusion etched across his face.

“She’s fantastic! Song Mingxi is my idol!” Liu Qi’s reaction after reading the script was the complete opposite; she was utterly enamored.

Gu Zhi grinned and pointed at the cover of the script, addressing Han Sanping, “Sanping, this film is called ‘My Sassy Girl.’ The female lead must be a bit violent; that’s the main attraction of the movie.”

“Are you sure the audience will like a female lead like this?”

“They’ll definitely love her!” Liu Qi interjected before Gu Zhi could reply.

Gu Zhi nodded from the side, “Right now, female leads in films and TV series are mostly gentle and demure—either the delicate type or the dignified lady. Rarely does anyone break out of this mold.”

“But if a character’s personality makes a breakthrough, it easily captures nationwide affection. These past two years, Little Swallow has been a prime example.”

The first two seasons of “Princess Pearl,” recently aired, became a sensation among Chinese communities worldwide, breaking the ratings record for Chinese dramas. Zhao Wei soared to fame on the strength of her role as Little Swallow across China and Taiwan.

Little Swallow’s vibrant, lively personality left a deep impression on audiences. Even a decade later, mention Zhao Wei and everyone’s first thought is still Little Swallow.

Song Mingxi, the female lead in “My Sassy Girl,” shares a similar liveliness, though with a very different inner world.

Little Swallow can be described as mad and silly; from a normal perspective, she and Ziwei and their group of imperial offspring constantly court disaster. If Emperor Qianlong weren’t a fool, he would have executed them long ago.

Of course, in the melodramatic novels of Qiong Yao, most characters are indeed fools, willing to disregard life, propriety, and morality for so-called “love,” with protagonists nearly always displaying extreme self-centeredness.

In Qiong Yao’s drama “Dreams Behind a Curtain,” there is a famous line: “You’ve only lost a leg! What about Ziling? What she’s given up for you is love!”

One wonders how twisted a person’s values must be to write such a line.

Only now, as China’s economy is just beginning to grow, lagging behind Taiwan in strength and culture, and with a largely uneducated audience, could such works with skewed values become popular on the mainland.

In his previous life, Gu Zhi watched “Princess Pearl” again after growing up, only to realize that the entire show had only the “evil” Empress holding somewhat normal values; everyone else’s actions were unbearable, their behavior melodramatic and contrived.

“My Sassy Girl” is vastly different; even after more than a decade, no Asian romantic comedy has surpassed it.

Song Mingxi is wild only on the surface—beneath her sass lies tenderness and strength. She is a character brimming with charm, and every highlight in the film centers on her.

Jun Ji-hyun, for her portrayal of Song Mingxi, became a goddess across Asia, arguably the most internationally renowned actress from Korea.

“My Sassy Girl” influenced the values of countless Asian women, showing they need not be demure and gentle; women can be strong, brave, and independent.

Whether the film promotes wildness or violence, at its core it is a challenge and breakthrough against traditional conservative female culture.

Gu Zhi harbored a deep dislike for Korea, but had to admit that their film and entertainment productions, both in depth and fun, far surpassed China’s many slapdash, plagiarized works.

In terms of cultural export in entertainment, Korea far outstripped China.

In his previous life, Gu Zhi had only heard of the Korean Wave; never had he come across a “Chinese Wave,” “Han Wave,” or “Hua Wave.”

But since it didn’t exist before, he would build one in this life.

With Liu Qi’s enthusiastic support, Han Sanping and Gu Zhi soon reached an agreement to produce the film.

“My Sassy Girl” would be a low-budget production, with Gu Zhi as the main investor, putting in two million, and Zhongying contributing five hundred thousand.

The two million came from Gu Zhi’s royalty earnings for the year. His first two books were still hot sellers, but “Those Years” saw its mainland sales drop quickly after the initial wave of die-hard fans, though the traditional edition was quite popular in Taiwan.

After investing this amount, he had little left. As for his share of the “Butterfly Effect” box office, he would have to wait until the film was taken off the screens.

Thus, “My Sassy Girl” was set with a production budget of two and a half million, with promotion handled by Zhongying. The producers were Han Sanping, Gu Zhi, and Liu Qi—the first two in name, the last in charge of production.

Next came the issue of the director and the cast, especially the female lead, whose selection was crucial and could determine the film’s fate.

Who should direct, and who should act? The three producers pondered in the office for a long time without reaching a conclusion.

“How about I direct?” Gu Zhi suggested.

No one replied, nor did anyone speak.

Gu Zhi’s words were met with silence…