Chapter 435: The Most Beautiful Woman in Hong Kong Appears

Xu Jinjiang has graduated from the TVB training program, but he ultimately did not sign a contract with TVB.

TVB mainly didn’t want him, so now he works freelance; because he’s tall, he also does modeling gigs—clothing modeling.

He also sings at nightclubs, and when a production crew needs extras, he tries out—getting even a minor role is better than nothing, as long as he can make money any way he can.

He still paints, but only what he wants to paint; he no longer does covers for *Maniac Comics*, knowing his senior brother pays him above-market rates and that his output is slow, so he doesn’t want to make things harder for him.

But they’re close brothers, so when good opportunities arise, he still thinks of me—I suspect Ming-ge needs someone and recommended me; I wonder if this role has lines or even a close-up.

The two across from him were from the mainland; nervous and introverted, Xu Jinjiang mustered his courage and asked: “Comrade, what kind of film are we shooting?”

Zhang Yimou: “It’s not a film—it’s a short. Director Wei said it’ll be about ten minutes.”

Xu Jinjiang quickly sat beside Zhang Yimou: “So what’s the story about? How many characters?”

He wanted to do some prep, but Zhang Yimou didn’t know: “Let the director tell you himself.”

At that moment, Gong Ying came in; everyone called her Sister Ying, and Xu Jinjiang stood up and called her Sister-in-law.

“Hmm, why are you sitting outside, Ah Jiang? Where’s Ah Long?”

“He’s in a meeting with the screenwriters. I’m not here to see him—I’m waiting for Wei Ming, Brother Ming.”

“Oh, is he coming over soon? Perfect, let’s have dinner together,” Gong Ying smiled, then casually asked how her sister was doing.

She didn’t go into the office, chatted a bit more with the two mainland friends, and then Wei Ming came upstairs.

Seeing his sister-in-law there too, Wei Ming felt tense—because behind him appeared Li Zhi, panting heavily, holding several gift boxes.

To spend more time with Wei Ming, she rode with him, claiming she was coming to deliver gifts to the *Maniac Comics* artists—new products.

This was a long-standing tradition of Langning and *Maniac Comics*; the artists all loved this secretary Li, many even seeing her as their inspiration to draw.

Now Li Zhi was like a ripe peach, increasingly alluring, leaving Zhang Yimou and Feng Xiaoning, two country bumpkins, staring dumbfounded.

They described her beauty as "ultimate perfection."

Wei Ming pretended not to notice Gong Ying’s wariness toward Li Zhi, chatted briefly with her, and asked after her pregnant mother-in-law.

“Dinner? Sure, let me finish talking with Ah Jiang, then we’ll eat together.”

Saying that, Wei Ming looked at Xu Jinjiang—he now had long hair and a thick, melancholy beard; though barely twenty, he already carried the weariness of a thirty-year-old man.

Wei Ming glanced around, borrowed a pair of glasses from Huang Guoxing, and made him wear them—yes, that dulled the rustic look a bit, gave him a refined-but-rogue vibe.

And he was even taller than Wei Ming himself; women would naturally feel intimidated by him.

Wei Ming certainly wanted good actors, but since this was a short film, he focused more on cinematic language; acting nuance wasn't crucial.

And female actors mattered more than male ones.

“Alright, you’re it,” Wei Ming told Xu Jinjiang. “Ah Jiang, hold your schedule for the next half-month, okay?”

“Of course! Of course no problem!”

Wei Ming: “Good. You’re the lead actor in my new film.”

“Huh? Lead actor? Me?” Xu Jinjiang looked stunned.

He thought lead actors were guys like Chow Yun-fat or Andy Lau—never imagined someone like him, a rough-looking guy, could be the lead—even if it was just a short film, but this was Wei Ming’s project!

“That’s right—lead actor. Don’t shave your beard these next few days; we’ll need it for styling later.”

Lead actor confirmed; they’d find a female lead in the afternoon.

“Old Zhang, show me the photos you took.”

Zhang Yimou smiled: “We had them developed overnight.”

“Is the money I gave you still enough?” he asked.

“More than enough.”

Wei Ming nodded and kept looking at the photos: “This one’s no good—the buildings are too close… this one’s no good either—too far… this one, the neon signs are too sparse… what about this?”

He stared at the photo in his hand—it looked familiar: “Is this Chungking Mansions?”

“Yes, Director, you know this place?” Feng Xiaoning spoke up. “It’s visually rich—colorful and chaotic.”

Wei Ming nodded. This place was called the “ethnic enclave of Kowloon City,” a multi-ethnic neighborhood—Indians, Filipinos, Thais, Vietnamese, and some recent arrivals from the mainland—all here because rent was cheap.

It didn’t quite fit Wei Ming’s first shooting location, but it actually suited his second scene well.

The short film had only three main locations; originally, he’d planned to shoot the second scene in Kowloon City, but Kowloon City was riskier than Chungking Mansions.

Wei Ming set aside the Chungking Mansions photos and kept looking.

“Hey, isn’t this Heung Lo Street?”

“This place is called Lai Tung Street,” Zhang Yimou said.

“Right—it’s also called Heung Lo Street.” Wei Ming checked: the street length, building style—it was perfect. These photos were taken at night, all the neon signs lit up, giving a cyberpunk vibe.

Wei Ming set this photo aside too; finally decided—these two locations.

The third location is a footbridge—Hong Kong’s full of them; we’ll pick one randomly later.

“Good job—I’m satisfied with the locations.”

Soon after, Liu Ruilong came out of the meeting.

“How did the auditions go?” he asked.

Wei Ming patted Xu Jinjiang: “Ah Jiang is the chosen lead I’ve been searching for!”

“What about pay?” He knew his junior brother wouldn’t dare bring it up—he did.

Xu Jinjiang hurried to say: “No need, no need—just feed me. Just letting me play the lead is already more than I deserve.”

Wei Ming waved his hand: “How can you not take pay? How much do you usually earn a month?”

Xu Jinjiang calculated: “Not stable—good months, five thousand; bad months, three thousand.”

Wei Ming: “I’ll give you ten thousand.”

“Huh? That’s too much!” Xu Jinjiang felt embarrassed—it far exceeded his expectations.

Wei Ming said: “You’re not just the lead—you’ll also be assistant art director for Brother Feng Xiaoning. Later, I’ll explain the visual style I want.”

Ah Long asked again: “What about the female lead? Any candidates in mind?”

Wei Ming: “I’ll go to Qingniao this afternoon and ask Aunt Xia Meng to contact Ye Tong.”

Mainly to check her availability and fee—she’s now a film queen; I don’t know if she’ll go over budget.

Wei Ming’s budget was one hundred thousand Hong Kong dollars total; after that, he’d need to rent equipment, hire a lighting technician, makeup artist, and pay rent.

Next, Ah Long and his wife invited Wei Ming to dinner; Xu Jinjiang, Old Zhang, and Old Feng came too.

Li Zhi, being sensible, took a taxi to shop—she’d treat Wei Ming separately later.

Two cars were arranged; Xu Jinjiang rode with Wei Ming. On the way, he asked about his classmate Liang Jiahui.

“How’s Ah Hui doing, studying under Director Li Hanxiang in Beijing?”

“Great—he’s living in the Three Palaces now. He’s the lead actor in that film, playing Emperor Vanguard Commander.”

“What? Lead actor!” Xu Jinjiang was stunned again. “I thought he was just doing grunt work—I never expected him to find a benefactor like me.”

“Haha, he thought he’d be doing grunt work too—got pushed into it by Director Li. Now he’s filming with one of the mainland’s most popular actresses.”

“Is it Chen Chong or Liu Xiaoqing?”

“Liu Xiaoqing. Nice—you know them both.”

Xu Jinjiang grinned sheepishly: “The last movie I watched before coming to Hong Kong was *Little Flower*—Liu Xiaoqing was great, but I like Chen Chong better.”

Wei Ming thought: You like her? Cheng Long likes her too.

Speaking of Cheng Long, Wei Ming asked: “Has Cheng Long finished shooting his film *A*?”

“No—he’s still lying in the hospital.”

“What? Tell me more.” Wei Ming thought: Not another near-paralysis incident?

“I read the news—he broke two ribs falling from a clock tower. He won’t be able to film for a while.”

Okay, lighter than Wei Ming expected. In the original timeline, this stunt became famous—and terrifying—because he landed on his neck, severely twisting it, cracking his nasal bone, nearly paralyzed or killed; it was Cheng Long’s first life-risking stunt, and filming halted for months.

Later, when they restarted, after two attempts by professionals and Cheng’s stunt team, he still wasn’t satisfied—so he did it himself.

Wei Ming said: “Let’s visit him this afternoon.”

At the restaurant, six sat down; Gong Ying casually asked how he and his sister were doing.

“Both me and Ah Long are married—you two should hurry up too.”

Zhang Yimou and Feng Xiaoning already knew she was Gong Rui’s sister; they kept their heads down eating, pretending not to hear—this Hong Kong restaurant was truly delicious.

But inside, they were reeling—though rumors had circulated, this was confirmation straight from family.

Wei Ming: “Recently, I went back to Shanghai with your sister and had dinner with your parents.”

Hearing they’d already met the families, Gong Ying felt deeply relieved—finally, progress had been made.