Time: early morning.
Place: a small rented lot at the Confucius Temple area, including a little building called the Ruyi Inn.
Cast: the whole crew.
"Uncle Wang, Uncle Zhao, Uncle Sun, Uncle Feng, long time no see. I think the last time we met was, well, the last time we met." Chu Zhi opened with a classic Lin Feifei style throwaway line. He was starting to like useless chatter, it really closed distance fast.
"Kid, you just said something that said nothing." Wang Anyi stood there with the aura and look of a crime boss.
"The past month or two, your name's everywhere. My grandson's at home stomping and pounding the table." Art director Lao Feng said, "Imagination built on craft is productivity. Simple clapping and foot stomps can turn into music."
"Lao Feng, you watch soccer too?" prop chief Lao Sun asked. His hairline had marched back, leaving him a shining forehead.
"My blood pressure's high. Doctor told me to avoid stimulating stuff, so I quit soccer." Lao Feng was on the heavy side, with both blood sugar and pressure up.
"I like the one Chu sang on National Day more, 'I'll Live As Your Wish.' Those lyrics are beautiful." Lao Sun said.
Honestly, the whole October chart belonged to him. The end of the month and the start of the month both dropped songs that crash landed at number one, proving the legend of "Chu singles are never simple."
Most of the core creatives here were in their fifties. They didn't care much about the World Cup. When they chatted, they perked up for the Long March show.
"That's enough." Wang Anyi cut it off, face straight. "Looks like you're healthy. You got here this early, must've caught a dawn flight. It's just a few minutes of cameo, you don't need to rush like this." She added, "Your body's your own, take care of it. Don't always try to please everyone. Your health matters more."
It sounded harsh, but it came from real concern, not scolding for scolding's sake. No reason to argue. The Emperor Beast just put on his best sticker face, cat being obedient.jpg.
"I won't ramble. I'll introduce you to some veteran actors."
Just like the National Day parade gig, the director was still widening his network. Even if he didn't dive into film long term, more friends meant more paths.
To be fair, actors who worked with Wang Anyi, or got invited by her at all, were all heavy hitters. Even the child actor Hu Hu, only nine, had seven or eight films behind her.
"I know brother Chu." Hu Hu said, "brother Chu's my mom's Little Fruits."
She wore a big bow on her doll cut. When she tilted her head, the bow bobbed like fluttering wings.
"Brother Chu, did I say it right?"
"You said it perfectly. I'm your mom's Little Fruits." He smiled.
With her answer confirmed, Hu Hu cheered that she'd tell her mom later.
Top directors choose actors, and great actors choose scripts. It goes both ways. Wang Anyi's a dream collaborator for everyone, so even the retired Gao Tan came back to play the second male lead, pretty much co-lead.
Gao Tan's the most audience-beloved actor among the post-80s. His acting's sharp, critics thought he'd be the first of his cohort to ascend to Best Actor with real weight. Right when his career was climbing, he announced retirement. The reason warmed hearts, he'd made a pile in investing.
"No matter when I drive, your songs pop up on radio, can't even dodge them." Gao Tan said. "Luckily they're good. I like them too."
"As long as it fits your ears." Chu Zhi said. "Saves the station the trouble of digging tracks."
Radio spins pay royalties by airtime and ad revenue. It all adds up to a nice chunk every year.
He'd arrived early. The prop team was still checking setups, and no one had eaten breakfast, so he bought a few baskets of buns.
Crews aren't fussy. Boxes, a ladder laid on its side, a prop or two, anything becomes a stool. He carefully moved a plastic fire hydrant aside. The red lacquer and weathering were dry, but the smell still lingered, which wasn't great for eating. Better park it further away.
"I've got it, I've got it. How can Teacher Chu do this kind of thing." A stagehand rushed over, flustered. No way he'd let a star handle his job.
"No, no, no, you just enjoy your bun. I'm already moving it. I'll wash my hands before I eat." Chu Zhi said. "One more person washing hands won't break our schedule."
The stagehand looked thirty something. He didn't know the guy's name, but calling him brother was fine.
That "brother" made the man flush. The Emperor Beast, always tuned to others' feelings, could feel it plainly. People put stars on too high a pedestal these days.
Wait, he was a star too. He blinked. Was his butt about to betray his class?
Breakfast was quick. Actors had to leave time for makeup. One little detail, the stagehand wolfed down his bun, then hustled the prop back, like he was terrified Chu Zhi would move it again.
His cameo role was a person with schizophrenia. The stylist's plan was pretty sloppy, and he raised a question.
"Aunt Wang, for this character, is the mental state written as severe, or relatively mild?"
Wang Anyi went quiet for a moment, then said, "Moderate. Let's take the middle road."
"If it's moderate, considering how the illness impacts social function, the look won't be a homeless guy. In this phase, when they're lucid they're still foggy, but many keep basic hygiene." He added, "To expand a bit, it's a hard illness to grasp. Families either support treatment wholeheartedly, or they try to lock the patient down, whether for safety or to dodge trouble…"
He paused. "In both cases, it wouldn't look like this." He skipped the darkest possibility, being abandoned or losing family. Just thinking about it made his chest tight.
"You make sense." Wang Anyi looked at him, surprised.
"Good kid. A few months and he's researching prototypes and analyzing the script. Not bad. If talent's a bit light, attitude can carry."
With the director's nod, the stylist adjusted. The messy explosion hair became a normal cut, just a bit oily. Clothes switched to a plain T-shirt and jeans, makeup added a touch of haggardness. Chu Zhi glanced at the mirror and nodded.
He felt good, but the director frowned. To be precise, Wang Anyi felt both satisfied and worried. "Realism checked out, but with no lines and no direct interaction, how do you show schizophrenia?"
Silent acting with that level of detail is brutal. Not just for Chu Zhi. She figured even Best Actor types would struggle.
"This kid might be floating". Wang Anyi's brows eased. If they couldn't land it, they'd stitch it in post with edit and score. Film's a multi-tool art.
At nine, camera, lights, and rigs were ready. Extras and safety were in place. "Action," Wang Anyi called. Rolling.
His scene partner, Zhang Li, played the male lead of Abnormal Is Normal. Strong brows, clear eyes, holding two A-tier Best Actor trophies, but he cracked up easily, always "ye ye" laughing mid chat.
His role, Sheng Kai, wasn't even labeled normal or not. From his first step on screen, the vibe was dead inside. Lifeless was the word. He didn't walk, he dragged his legs, aimless, up to an empty, worn rooftop.
He climbed past the railing. Not to jump. He just wanted the height and the view.
Zhang Li nailed that hollow. In his head, even with no lines, he'd try to guide with slight eye contact, small movements. Don't overpress.
"Tsk, this acting." The other leads like Gao Tan came to watch even without scenes. While they were savoring, Chu Zhi entered.
He'd already toggled on "Sick Leave," and asked his system to filter certain layers so he wouldn't feel like he was on camera when the title took hold. The system bro agreed, charged him one personality coin.
In an instant, the illogic flooded back, rolled over every emotion, and seized his mind. He felt a high tech surveillance carrier hidden in the clouds, watching him every second. It wanted to snatch him and rip the system away. No wonder the system was so obedient, he was just a test subject.
This whole parallel world was a lab. Current tech couldn't find it. This rooftop was a temporary blind spot.
Someone?
Did they station a watcher in the blind spot?
So the parallel world really was under control. In that case, he'd go scorched earth. He wouldn't let those higher dimensional beings get what they wanted. He glared at the watcher.
Zhang Li was a veteran, but the sudden, almost tangible killing intent nearly cracked him. The director hadn't called cut, so he kept playing. Facing a stranger's hostility, a normal response would be confusion and fear, but Sheng Kai's settings didn't include fear. He showed only a flicker of bewilderment.
The two actors' emotional planes weren't even the same dimension. Chu Zhi's state flipped fast, because a "wuu wuu wuu," like a machine tool spun up in his ear. He knew it was the airborne carrier descending.
Despair.
Absolute despair.
Was the watcher sending the signal? Were they about to erase him and recover the system?
Chu Zhi stared up. He could just make out the outline of the ship in the clouds.
The instinct to live, the shout of "run now," roared through Chu Zhi's head. He sprinted two steps, then stopped.
"Heh. With tech like this, what's the point of running." He tilted his chin up and stood his ground.
"Good, cut!" Director Wang Anyi called.
At the same time, his trusty system bro lifted the effect of "Sick Leave" off him.
The set went dead quiet. That look in his eyes had hit too hard. To be precise, it was his aura.
Everyone's got an aura. It's weird and slippery to describe, but it's real. At least Gao Tan and the other actors all felt it, that despair rising from the pit of the heart, despair so real it felt solid in his gaze. If you caught even one glance, you couldn't look away.
"With acting like this, why's he still singing?" Gao Tan rubbed his chin, thinking.
Two Best Actors and one Best Actress on site, and all of them silently gave that run a thumbs up.
Wang Anyi said, "That was great. Stranger's hostility, stranger's killing intent, then despair at the unknown."
It hit two hundred percent. She popped up from her little stool, already sketching the cut in her head.
"You alright?" Zhang Li saw that after the cut, he still hadn't moved. Maybe it was hard to shake it off. He kept his voice low.
"I'm good. I just spiked my emotions too high, so I need a second." Chu Zhi explained.
"Chew some gum." Zhang Li handed him a piece, the kind his assistant always carried. His way to step out of a role was to chew Green Arrow. Too bad the brand wasn't paying him.
"A burst like that is a four hundred meter all-out sprint. You're gonna feel it." He shared his tip, and snuck in a little self-praise. "Bro, I was planning to shepherd you a bit so the interaction wouldn't go flat with no lines, but you almost blew me off the track. Lucky it was me. Anyone else, they'd have dropped the ball."
Wang Anyi beckoned them down to video village.
Before Chu Zhi could talk, the tent filled with applause.
"That eye attack, I thought I was seeing things. You've leveled up like crazy." Assistant director Zhao Yusheng said, "If you'd kept this level on Eleven Lang, would Berg Aondo still have walked off with the prize?"
Berg Aondo was the Best Actor at that year's Venice.
Zhao Yusheng threw a side-eye at the director that said, this is what you call no talent?
Wang Anyi cooled down, studied Chu Zhi for a long beat, then admitted, "It wasn't what the script said, but the acting had real spark. You fully sold that you weren't in a normal state."
"When I say not normal, I mean it as a descriptor, not an insult." Wang Anyi added.
"I know. Schizophrenia's a disorder of perception and emotional behavior, that's all." He nodded.
Wang Anyi was sure he'd visited patients. That's how he could be this precise. It was a favor cameo, yet he was scared of doing it badly and did the work. That moved her.
"Your steps were more normal than Zhang Li's, steadier, but that only sharpened the symptoms. Especially that guard dog look at the start. I've only seen eyes like that once, a stray mama cat in a park watching anyone who got near her kittens." Art director Lao Feng said.
"My grandaunt has schizophrenia, runs in the family." prop chief Lao Sun said, "A lot of the micro-expressions match my grandma. If you can hit that, you're a good actor, period. That despair made my chest tight."
"I just studied more. I'm still a long way off as an actor." Chu Zhi answered.
One take, done. Wang Anyi hadn't expected it. So he had nothing else for the day. He hung out and kept Hu Hu company. Her mom needed to care for a sick grandma, and her dad served with border armed police, so he couldn't come to set.
Even so, the kid was sweet. She sat and watched the grownups act without fuss.
He ran little errands and played with Hu Hu till six, then walked hand in hand to meet her mom at the gate.
"Brother Chu, can I ask you a favor? Can you tell my mom, right to her face, that you're her Little Fruits?" Hu Hu tipped her little head up.
He crouched so she didn't have to look up. One big, one small, eyes level.
"My mom said she has three biggest prides in this life." Hu Hu stuck a pudgy finger up. "First, she has a smart and cute baby, that's me. Second, she married a good husband, that's my dad."
She stuck up four fingers, the hand so close her index finger almost poked her mouth. "Third, she has Little Fruits."
"No problem." He agreed.
They waited at the curb about ten minutes. Hu Hu's mom hurried over in a gray-brown light trench, windblown and dusty.
"Thanks, thanks, sorry to keep you waiting, driver." She apologized on reflex. She didn't recognize him.
His cap was low and his chin tucked, so most of his face was in shadow.
"Hi, I'm your Little Fruits." He smiled, saying it the way Hu Hu asked.
That voice was familiar. She squinted. It really was her idol. She froze.
"Mom, I found your Little Fruits." Hu Hu claimed credit.
"Little Fruits?" She blinked, then it clicked. Her daughter had flipped the line, but the greeting, "I'm your Little Fruits," and the way her idol looked at Hu Hu with that soft fondness made it obvious. brother Jiu was spoiling her kid.
This was too good.
"Hi, bro… brother Jiu." She greeted him, then happily snapped photos. To be precise, it was a trio pic, plus a signature.
Mother and daughter went home grinning. A lot of people had a good night. He treated the team to dinner, and that was a good time too.
Time slid by in all that joy.
"Since we finally got everyone together, Ma Qi, tell us, how'd it feel on stage at the Saint Petersburg Philharmonic last month?" Bald Qiang asked, curious.
The friends leaned in. They all worked in music. They'd say they were above fame and just wanted to write from the heart, but envy doesn't care what your mouth says.
Ma Qi remembered he'd stumbled on his first line. He sighed inside. Most of the time, stage integrity matters most.
"Teacher Chu's strong." He answered honestly.
His friends blinked. That wasn't the question.
"Teacher Chu as in Chu Zhi?" Bald Qiang asked.
He nodded. Bald Qiang frowned. "So Chu Zhi went to the forum this year too?"
"He didn't. He's just younger than me, and…" Ma Qi wanted to say more, but then remembered the bragging he'd done, so he shifted. "We always said his strength's songwriting. Truth is, his vocals are insane too."
"How insane, more than a six-sided war god of songwriting?" Bald Qiang teased.
Why Bald Qiang, you ask? Because he's bald and he's strong. He once set the Sanlitun flower-garland record at a bar residency. To be blunt, Bald Qiang thought he was no slouch.
"Teacher Chu's double-S, writing and singing both. I watched his past 'Opera 2' stage in Russia. Put it this way, when I went, I realized I was small fry. Almost everyone on stage had twenty years of voice work, all professor level. Even then, he got up there and just mowed the field."
Bald Qiang and the boys made that classic meme face, the one that means, pic or it didn't happen. Truth be told, he'd been the one recommended, so their filter for his recommender was as thick as a city wall.
"What's with the look. Why would I lie. Go search it, it trended back home too." Ma Qi said. "That 'Opera 2' stage, I watched it. Don't talk to me about profound intent or whatever. It was pure technique flex. It made my scalp prickle."
"Alright, alright, park that. Let's talk World Cup. This year we've gotta find a proper place to watch it." Bald Qiang said.
They were all old soccer heads.
And the non-fan, Chu Zhi, landed in Qatar again. The opening ceremony was almost here.