Chapter 105: The Thief Family

At six in the morning, Xiang Fei sat before the floor-to-ceiling window of his suite, tapping the final period onto his computer. Outside, the dawn light of Beijingcheng had just pierced the thin mist, the skyline washed in a pale gold. He rubbed his sore, swollen eyes, closed the laptop, and let out a long breath.

Finally finished.

He picked up his phone and sent Zhou Huimin a message:

"The script's done. It's called 'The Thief Family.'"

In less than three seconds, the phone buzzed.

"That fast? Please tell me you didn't stay up all night."

Xiang Fei gave a soft laugh and replied:

"Slept two hours. Even in my dreams I was rewriting lines."

Zhou Huimin sent an angry emoji:

"If you pull another all-nighter, I'm flying over to watch you sleep."

Xiang Fei laughed, set down his phone, picked up the printed script, and slipped it into his briefcase. Today, he was going to meet someone—Han Shanping.

At ten in the morning, Xiang Fei's car pulled up in front of the Beijing Film Studio building. He straightened his suit collar, briefcase in hand, and strode into the elevator.

The elevator doors had barely opened when Han Shanping's assistant was already waiting at the entrance:

"Director Xiang, President Han is waiting for you in the conference room."

Xiang Fei nodded and followed the assistant down the corridor. As the door swung open, Han Shanping was sitting at the conference table drinking tea; seeing him come in, he rose with a smile:

"A-Fei, what wind blew you here?"

Xiang Fei shook his hand and laughed:

"Uncle Han, I've written a new script. I'd like you to take a look."

Han Shanping raised an eyebrow:

"Oh? You wrote it yourself? Not an adaptation of a purchased novel?"

Xiang Fei took the script from his briefcase and handed it over:

"An original story. Just finished it last night.

Han Shanping took the script and opened to the first page.

The conference room was so quiet only the sound of turning pages remained. Xiang Fei lifted his teacup and, without showing it on his face, watched Han Shanping's expression.

Han Shanping's brow first creased slightly, then gradually relaxed; reaching a certain passage, he even smiled without realizing it.

Half an hour later, Han Shanping closed the script, took off his glasses, and let out a long sigh:

"A-Fei, you're a real genius."

Xiang Fei blinked:

"Uncle Han, you're too kind."

Han Shanping shook his head, his tone serious:

"No, I mean it. This script—it's brilliant."

He picked up the script and pointed to a passage:

"This 'Thief Family' setup—on the surface it's crime, but at its core it's warmth. Especially this 'father' character. He's clearly a con man, yet he acts more like a father than many real fathers do."

Xiang Fei smiled:

"What I wanted to explore was—what does a real 'family' really mean."

Han Shanping nodded, then flipped to another page:

"This bit of dialogue—the little girl asks 'Why do we steal things?' and the old man answers 'Because nobody gives us anything'—just two lines, and it cuts straight through to the social issue."

Xiang Fei took a sip of tea:

"I hope the audience finishes watching in silence, and after the silence, starts thinking."

Han Shanping slapped the table:

"Brilliant! A script like this comes once in ten years!"

Han Shanping stood up and paced the conference room:

"A-Fei, this film has to be made, and fast."

Xiang Fei raised an eyebrow:

"Do you think it can pass censorship?"

Han Shanping laughed:

"I can't speak for other directors, but the name Xiang Fei itself is a pass."

He sat back down at the table and said, his expression turning serious:

"Beijing Film can fund it in full. How much budget do you need?"

Xiang Fei thought for a moment:

"Three million. On-location shooting, no special effects."

Han Shanping decided on the spot:

"I'll give you two million. Pick any actors you want."

Xiang Fei shook his head:

"No big names. I want newcomers—even non-professionals."

Han Shanping blinked:

"Why?"

Xiang Fei laughed:

"This story needs to feel real. Stars can't act out that street-level grit."

Han Shanping thought for a moment, then nodded:

"Alright, I'll go with what you say. But the female lead needs a guarantee—Zhou Huimin to play her?"

Xiang Fei couldn't help but laugh:

"She's not a good fit; she can't bring out that feeling for the role."

Han Shanping teased:

"What, afraid your fiancée will get jealous?"

Xiang Fei shrugged:

"I'm afraid the audience will be pulled out of the story."

Han Shanping picked up the phone:

"I'll have the distribution department greenlight it right now—start filming next month?"

Xiang Fei shook his head:

"No rush, I need to find the cast first—at least three months of prep."

Han Shanping nodded:

"Fine, whatever resources you need, come straight to me."

Xiang Fei stood up and shook his hand:

"Thanks, Uncle Han."

Han Shanping walked him to the door, then suddenly asked:

"A-Fei, is this story based on real people?"

Xiang Fei paused, then said softly:

"Yes. When I was little, I saw a family like that in Kowloon Walled City."

Before the elevator doors closed, Han Shanping said one last thing:

This film can win awards."

Walking out of the Beijing Film Studio, Xiang Fei stood in the sunlight and let out a long breath. He took out his phone and dialed Zhou Huimin.

"How did the talk go?" Her voice carried a smile.

Xiang Fei smiled: "Uncle Han said I'm a genius." A soft laugh came from the other end: "He finally said something true." Xiang Fei looked up at the sky:

"I miss you."

Zhou Huimin said softly, "Then fly back tonight?"

Xiang Fei shook his head, even though she couldn't see: "Can't, I need to go find the cast first."

Zhou Huimin pretended to be angry:

"Director Xiang, do you love me, or do you love your movies?"

Xiang Fei laughed:

"I love you, so I want to make better movies for you to watch."

The other end of the line went silent for two seconds, then Zhou Huimin said softly, "Come home early.

Xiang Fei hung up the phone and walked toward the parking lot. The Beijing sunlight fell on his shoulders, warm and bright.