Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Super Green Leaf

“How was yesterday’s audition?” No sooner had Yan Xu arrived at the company than Bald Qiang summoned him into the office.

“Not bad. I finally found the female lead—a very beautiful girl.” Yan Xu sat down across from Bald Qiang.

“I heard from Ah Jiu that you offered her twenty thousand for her role?” Bald Qiang placed his hands on the desk and gazed at Yan Xu intently.

“Yes, twenty thousand.” Yan Xu nodded.

“Xu, I know you’re the director, and these matters aren’t really my concern. Even though we have a generous budget this time, there will still be plenty of places where money will be needed…” Bald Qiang began.

“Brother, I know what you mean,” Yan Xu interrupted him. “But this girl is special. I can guarantee she’ll become a huge star. I don’t want to nurture her only to have someone else benefit.”

“If you’re serious about grooming her, why not sign her yourself?” Bald Qiang smiled.

“Sign her?” Something dawned on Yan Xu.

“You could start your own talent agency and sign her under your banner,” Bald Qiang continued.

“To start a talent agency is no simple matter. I don’t know anything about running a company.” Yan Xu admitted. Directing films was his forte, but establishing and managing a company was not his strong suit. Still, Bald Qiang’s suggestion tempted him. If he continued in this industry, he would inevitably encounter and discover more stars; having his own company would certainly double his efficiency.

“It doesn’t take much. Many small agencies get by with just a few hundred thousand. If you don’t know how, let Ah Jiu help you—he’s familiar with all these procedures,” Bald Qiang said.

“Alright, I’ll talk to Brother Jiu when I get back.” Yan Xu nodded. Though he still carried the title of deputy manager at Bai Zhan Film Department, he and Bai Zhan were now essentially partners. Once he established his own company, he could sever ties even more cleanly.

“Brother, I suppose you didn’t call me here just for this.” Yan Xu asked. Bald Qiang had merely reminded him to be mindful of the budget, but his urgency surely meant there was something more significant.

“You asked me to help you find an actor—someone around thirty, with acting chops and an honest face. I found him.” As he spoke, Bald Qiang pulled a folder from his desk drawer and placed it in front of Yan Xu.

Yan Xu took the folder, and Bald Qiang continued, “This guy graduated from TVB’s acting class; he was classmates with Chow Yun-fat, who’s very popular now. A few years ago, he played Hu Tiehua in ‘Chor Lau-heung’ and gained some recognition. Later, he developed a gambling addiction, lost big, and racked up debts to loan sharks. People in the industry call him ‘Gambling Man.’ Even TVB has shelved him. His gambling habit has improved these past years, but his reputation is ruined, so he only gets minor roles. He still owes a sum to ‘Bloodsucker Li.’ Take a look—if you think he’s suitable, call him in; the company will pay off his ten thousand debt to Bloodsucker Li.”

“Him?” Yan Xu opened the folder. The first page held a color photograph. Seeing the face, he couldn’t help but exclaim.

“You know him?” Bald Qiang asked, noticing Yan Xu’s surprise.

“No… not really. I just feel like I’ve seen him act before—he seemed familiar. I think he was in ‘Love Never Stops,’ which was released recently.” Yan Xu shook his head, but inside he was overwhelmed. To think his film would be so lucky: first Ge Minghui, then Zhou Huimin, and now this—Wu Mengda.

Yan Xu’s familiarity with Wu Mengda was greater than with any other Hong Kong star. Wu Mengda was one of the most successful Hong Kong artists to strike gold on the mainland. When Yan Xu was merely a stagehand, he’d briefly worked with Wu Mengda on a film.

Back then, he was just a lowly crew member, while Wu Mengda was a star. Yan Xu even had a photo taken with him, and Wu Mengda was all smiles, like a friendly uncle next door, without a hint of celebrity arrogance.

Wu Mengda was renowned in the industry—not just for his two decades as a legendary supporting actor, nor solely for his partnership with Stephen Chow, but also for his personal life: one wife, two girlfriends, five children, juggling three households. Just supporting these families cost over a million each month, which was why he took on film and TV roles so aggressively.

Now, in 1984, Wu Mengda was at his lowest point. Bankrupt and deeply in debt, TVB had shelved him, and his friendship with Chow Yun-fat soured over money. His reputation in the industry was ruined, and he survived by picking up minor roles through connections. He had even contemplated suicide several times. It was only this year’s “Police Cadet” that gave him some relief. Next year, with “Police Cadet II,” he would finally turn things around—but true stardom would come only after partnering with Stephen Chow.

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The Wu Mengda before Yan Xu now was nothing like the cheerful figure in his memory. Perhaps weighed down by debt and life’s hardships, he appeared timid and cautious. His frame had yet to grow stout, so he looked sturdier than most, and his narrow eyes, when serious, lent him a cold, crafty air. No wonder he’d often been cast in villainous roles.

“Brother Da, please have a seat.” Yan Xu greeted him. In the original “Taxi Driver,” Wu Mengda played the role of Ah Ge—a grassroots policeman who injected humor and drama into the story. His presence made the film lively and engaging.

“Director Yan, no need for such formality. Just call me Ah Da.” Wu Mengda seated himself across from Yan Xu.

“You’re a senior in the industry; you deserve to be called Brother Da. And no need for ‘Director Yan,’ just call me Xu.” Yan Xu smiled.

“Alright, Xu.” Yan Xu’s easy manner put Wu Mengda at ease; the director seemed approachable.

“Brother Da, Bloodsucker Li should have told you. I have a role that’s perfect for you.” Yan Xu studied him. His appearance was exactly what Yan Xu wanted: when he smiled, he looked honest and sincere, but when serious, his whole expression changed. His acting was beyond doubt—he’d been in the top five of his class at TVB, and had landed important roles even when Chow Yun-fat was still just a bit player.

“He did, but I don’t know what the role is.” Wu Mengda replied. An actor like him had no right to be picky; any opportunity was welcome.

His pay was usually just a few thousand, so having his ten thousand gambling debt cleared was already more than he could hope for. And the director was Yan Xu—currently the hottest director in the industry, maybe not the most famous, but certainly the most notorious. One film had earned millions at the box office and sparked debate about film rating systems, not to mention the infamous hotel brawl in Hong Kong.

“Here’s the script. The role is the male lead.” Yan Xu handed him the script.

“You want me to play the lead?” Wu Mengda stared at the script—its cover read “Taxi Judge”—and heard Yan Xu’s words. His eyes widened. He was used to minor roles, fifth or sixth billing at best. Now, suddenly, he was being offered the lead; it was beyond anything he’d expected. He knew the film’s budget was claimed to be three million—a figure that might be exaggerated, but certainly not by much. Excited, he also felt uncertain, unsure if he could handle it.

ps: I’ve just realized the first apprentice for this book has appeared. Thanks to xfwebs for the review vote!