Chapter 22: The Main Theme Across Space and Time

Shi Wenxin put on her reading glasses, held the script—which was as thick as a meat pie—and located the newly written passages.

She first noticed a new character, Geng Ying.

Geng Ying was the sole provider for her family, a traditional ideal of a good woman, yet she had a "dislikable" side: in private, she urged Zhou Yun to leave her brother, while turning around and telling her brother that it was Zhou Yun who had chosen to leave.

"From the audience's perspective, she is certainly unlikable, but from her own perspective, she did nothing wrong."

Shi Wenxin nodded. This character addition was excellent and vivid. In later times, such tropes would be considered clichéd, but one must not forget the current era.

For a long time, character portrayals in domestic films had been extremely one-dimensional—either right or wrong, good or bad—with no room to explore the complexities of human nature. This was an objective necessity, as revolutionary struggle was not a dinner party, and such works were required.

Having affirmed the character of Geng Ying, Shi Wenxin read on and reached the dialogue.

She instinctively adjusted her glasses, leaned forward, and read it several times before she could suppress her excitement. "Xiao Liang, you must come and see this!"

Liang Xiaosheng leaned over and took the script.

A moment later, he looked up sharply, exclaiming excitedly, "This passage is added perfectly! The perspective is so fresh!"

"What exactly does it say?"

"Let me see!"

The other two editors gathered around. After reading it, they all chimed in, "Haha, I told you the kid had ideas! He’s really different from us old folks!"

"Today's young people are truly extraordinary!"

"What are you all discussing?"

Just then, Jiang Huaiyan walked in. Shi Wenxin smiled and said, "Xiao Chen stayed up all night and delivered the draft. We’ve all read it; would you like to take a look?"

"Oh? So fast?"

"I forgot to tell him there was no rush and he could take his time."

Jiang Huaiyan grabbed a chair, sat down, and scanned the manuscript until he reached the end:

Zhou Yun and Geng Ying had arrived at the Wangjiang Pavilion on Mount Lu.

The pavilion was built on Scissors Gorge, surrounded by mountains on three sides with an open view to the north, making it the perfect spot to overlook the Yangtze River.

Geng Ying said, "What exactly do you want to talk to me about? I’ll tell you this: even if my father has agreed, I have not changed my opinion of you. You don't need to try to persuade me."

Zhou Yun replied, "Sister Ying, why do you have such deep prejudice against me? Is it wrong for me to like Geng Hua?"

"Look at you. It’s not that I have prejudice; you talk of liking and loving at every turn without a shred of shame. We aren't like you!"

"..."

Zhou Yun was silent for a while before saying, "Sister Ying, may I ask you one thing? Do you love your motherland?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I love my motherland!"

"Then do you love your parents?"

"Of course!"

"And do you love your brother?"

"Of course!"

"Then... do you love your lover?"

"I..."

Geng Ying suddenly froze.

"Do you think these are the same, or are they different? Aren't they all our most fervent, most sincere feelings? Sister Ying, I love my parents, I love Geng Hua, and I love my motherland.

"My father often told me about the magnificent rivers and mountains here, every blade of grass and every tree, which is why I came back. I don't just want to see Mount Lu; I want to see the Five Great Mountains, the Yangtze and the Great Wall, Mount Huang and the Yellow River!

"I want to travel everywhere; I even want to go to Tiananmen! This is my motherland, too!

"I am willing to stay, not just for Geng Hua, but because I feel this land is full of great vitality. I want to experience the pulse of this new era here, and I want to contribute my strength to building a beautiful future together!

"Sister Ying, tell me, isn't all of this love?!"

...

Jiang Huaiyan stood up abruptly!

His face showed a strange mix of shock and exhilaration as he slammed the table. "Bold and daring! Absolutely brilliant!"

This was *Romance on Lushan Mountain*!

It could not be limited to a mere personal romance; if one were to love, one should love on a grander scale.

Conventionally, it seemed it should be: grand love for the country, small love for the person.

But perhaps there should be no distinction of size. Love is just love; it is the most instinctive and sincere human emotion. A person can love another individual, they can love their family, and they can love a country, a nation, and a great land!

Chen Qi had packaged the "main melody" theme into something acceptable for the current climate, but it was enough to make everyone gasp—it was truly groundbreaking.

"Old Jiang, what do you think? Should we hold a meeting?"

"No need. I’m going to find the deputy... no, no, I’m going straight to Director Wang!"

He could not wait a moment longer. Clutching the script, he headed straight for the director's office.

Wang Yang was sipping tea when the sudden intrusion of Jiang Huaiyan startled him. "What’s the rush? Are we going to war with the Japanese?"

"It’s Sino-Japanese friendship now, don't say things like that!"

Jiang Huaiyan slammed the script down. "You value talent, don't you? Well, there's one right here. This script must be filmed!"

"Oh? It’s rare for you to value something this much. Tell me about it."

"Alright!"

And so, Jiang Huaiyan recounted the newly revised *Romance on Lushan Mountain*, emphasizing that specific dialogue.

"..."

Wang Yang stood up silently and paced with his hands behind his back.

The story had too many elements: love, the Nationalist Party, America, and it even featured a kissing scene. A kissing scene—what kind of capitalist nonsense was that?

It was a minefield!

What were people most worried about these days? Even though there was talk of reform and opening up, one never knew if things might turn back at any moment. People feared a shift in the political wind, a return to the days of red flags covering the mountains, where those involved in such things would be purged.

Wang Yang didn't have Chen Qi's "prophet" cheat code; he didn't know for certain that *Romance on Lushan Mountain* would succeed. But he had courage. After pacing the room several times, he suddenly stopped and waved his hand. "Film it!"

"Not only are we filming it, but it will be a key project for the studio. If anything goes wrong, I’ll take the responsibility!"

"With your word, that's settled!"

Jiang Huaiyan’s heart surged. He felt a sudden impulse to be a pioneer, a martyr of sorts. He returned to the literature department and waved the script in the air. "It passed!"

"That’s wonderful!"

"This will definitely become a classic!"

"We share in the glory as well!"

"Xiaosheng, go notify him immediately!"

"Right away!"

Liang Xiaosheng got up and ran to the guest house. He pushed open the door to Room 302 and shouted, "Xiao Chen, it passed!"

"What passed?"

"The script! Director Wang gave the word personally—we're filming!"

"Whew!"

Chen Qi, who had been preparing to catch up on sleep, breathed a sigh of relief. He felt a small spark of excitement; after all, this version wasn't a free ride—he had written it himself. With effort comes the desire for reward.

"Right, come out with me!"

"What for?"

"Just come out!"

Liang Xiaosheng called him out and knocked on the next door. Chen Huaikai opened it, smiling. "What's going on? I heard you shouting."

"Yes, Xiao Chen’s script passed!"

"That's great! Want to give a shout?"

"You bet!"

Liang Xiaosheng took a deep breath, shed his usual reserve, and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Romance on Lushan Mountain, it passed the trial today!"

"Romance on Lushan Mountain, it passed the trial today!"

"Passing the trial" originally referred to being interrogated in court. Because the script review at the Beijing Film Studio was so strict, passing was extremely difficult, much like surviving an interrogation. Every screenwriter who successfully passed would inevitably let out a shout; if they didn't, others would do it for them. It was a shared joy that had become a habit over time.

As soon as Liang Xiaosheng shouted, everyone on the third floor came out.

Soon, people on the floors above and below heard it too.

"Congratulations! Congratulations!"

"So young!"

"I heard it's a romance film? That's not easy to pull off!"

It wasn't just the screenwriters; staff from other departments came over to offer congratulations, as if, for a moment, this film had become everyone's business.

In this day and age, filmmaking was a planned economy. Each studio had an annual quota; for example, the Beijing Film Studio might shoot seven or eight films a year. Occasionally there were more, but most of the time, they struggled to meet the quota.

Sometimes they would only shoot one or two films a year.

This involved funding, scripts, personnel, policy, and more.

Therefore, every film project was hard-won, which also meant a large group of people would have work. Who could participate and who couldn't was always a matter of undercurrents.

*Romance on Lushan Mountain* had passed, meaning the production was starting.

Directors, actors, crew... how many people were eyeing those spots!