Chapter 447

“Who are you looking for?” a bearded man with glasses called out to the shifty-eyed Feng Xiaogang.

“Comrade, I’m from the ‘Shepherd Class’ film crew, here to report to Teacher Wei Ming,” Feng Xiaogang straightened his clothes.

Though his appearance was unimpressive, the outfit eased Mi Jiashan’s guard.

“Oh, follow me,” Mi Jiashan led Feng Xiaogang to the guesthouse, and they exchanged names.

Mi Jiashan mentioned his name, which Feng Xiaogang didn’t know; when he mentioned his screenplay for the film “Song in the Whirlpool,” Feng Xiaogang immediately exclaimed: “Starring Pan Hong, right?”

Mi Jiashan nodded, a smug smile on his lips: Pan Hong, my wife!

Since debuting, Pan Hong had starred in multiple films like “Daughter of the Slave,” “The Laugh of the Tormented,” and “Sunlight Through the Clouds”—not top-tier, but solidly a second-tier star, and the top actress at Emei Studio.

Feng Xiaogang would never have guessed that Pan Hong’s husband was this unremarkable bearded man before him.

Of course, the bearded man wasn’t ordinary; though he hadn’t yet produced a major work at Emei Studio, his family background was prestigious—his father had once been the top leader of Rongcheng, a position higher than Han Sanping’s father (deputy mayor of a prefecture-level city).

Since both were second-generation elites and worked at Emei Studio, he got along well with Han Sanping; his wife wanted him to ask Han Sanping if there were any suitable roles for her in Wei Ming’s film.

At this moment, Han Sanping was listening to Chen Kaige speak at length, while Zhang Yimou and Feng Xiaoning sat quietly, occasionally chipping in.

When Mi Jiashan arrived with a man claiming to be from the “Shepherd Class” crew, everyone was surprised.

Chen Kaige asked: “Which unit are you from? I’ve never heard of you.”

“I was borrowed from the army by Teacher Wei. My name is Feng Xiaogang,” he said, pulling out a pack of Da Qianmen cigarettes and offering them around.

Hearing the name, Chen Kaige laughed and turned to Feng Xiaoning: “Xiaoning, is this your brother?”

Feng Xiaoning looked at Feng Xiaogang and wanted to say he couldn’t possibly have such an ugly brother—but truthfully, their facial structures were somewhat similar; even the unattractive Feng Xiaoning looked somewhat refined next to Feng Xiaogang.

Zhang Yimou introduced the three of them, then asked: “So what’s your role?”

Feng Xiaogang replied: “In the army, I handled art direction.”

Chen Kaige laughed harder: “Xiaoning, same job as you—admit it, you’re brothers.”

Feng Xiaogang immediately stepped forward and grabbed Feng Xiaoning’s hand: “Big Brother Xiaoning, we’re destined to be together—you’re my real brother from now on!”

Being connected to Wei Ming wasn’t enough—he also wanted to tie himself to the film’s art director, the easiest entry point to a key film position.

Feng Xiaoning smiled politely but awkwardly, silently screaming inside: Get your hands off me, you idiot!

Soon Wei Ming returned and saw Feng Xiaogang: “Xiaogang, you’re here. You all know each other now?”

“Yes, yes, we do,” Han Sanping said, then introduced Mi Jiashan to Wei Ming; Mi Jiashan also worked in art at Emei Studio and wrote his own screenplays, and the studio planned to groom him as a director.

Both Han Sanping and Mi Jiashan would attend film school next year to study directing.

Even without Han Sanping’s introduction, Wei Ming knew Mi Jiashan’s background, so he was warmly receptive and asked: “Old Mi, would you be willing to join my team?”

With him on board, coordinating with various units would save much time and effort.

Actually, Old Mi didn’t have strong interest—there was already a deputy director and an art director on the team, and the script was Wei Ming’s responsibility; there was little room for him.

But for Pan Hong’s sake, he smiled: “Just assign me any task, Teacher Wei—I’ve got nothing else on my plate.”

“I know you’re versatile—then you handle the sets, and I’ll give you the title of assistant director. We can also discuss the script together—how’s that?”

Mi Jiashan nodded; just as he was about to ask about the female lead, Zhang Yimou eagerly showed Wei Ming photos taken in Xinjin County—towns, villages, countryside scenes all captured.

The rural areas of Xinjin had no distinctive features; Wei Ming wasn’t satisfied and wanted to see more, but the county town looked acceptable.

Wei Ming said: “Tomorrow, come with me to my grandmother’s place—Yaan’s scenery is also excellent.”

Later, Han Sanping arranged housing for Feng Xiaogang; before returning to his room, Wei Ming visited Xiao Hong, who was studying TOEFL materials.

“Hi, bro, you’re back! Did you find your auntie yet?”

Wei Ming chuckled and tapped her head: “It won’t happen that fast.”

Even though household registration data was already digitized, finding someone matching the criteria wasn’t easy—it would take time.

Reuniting families sometimes depends on technological progress; future tech could identify children through facial scans of their parents—not perfectly accurate, but at least narrowing the range.

This time, Wei Ming would likely just get a range—he’d have to sort through the rest himself.

“Tomorrow we go to your grandmother’s, then you’ll stay there for a while—we still need to scout locations everywhere, and it’s inconvenient to bring a girl along.”

“Mm, okay,” Wei Hong understood.

But the next day, Chengdu was hit by heavy rain—torrential downpour.

Wei Ming looked out the window: “Well, we can’t go out now.”

Sichuan was still in its rainy season, and Ya’an had even more rainfall.

Han Sanping worried: “I hope it doesn’t rain as badly as last year.”

Last year’s flood still haunted many in Sichuan and Chongqing; when last year’s flood was mentioned, everyone looked at Wei Ming—even Chen Kaige, the arrogant genius, showed some admiration—it had cost over a hundred million Hong Kong dollars in foreign exchange.

Wei Ming: “It shouldn’t be that bad, but after the rain, transportation in many mountain villages will likely be problematic.”

“Exactly—I’m afraid the Jeeps won’t be able to pass,” Zhang Yimou said; filming required transporting heavy equipment.

Wei Ming turned to Han Sanping: “Old Han, does Emei Studio have motorcycles?”

“I have one,” Mi Jiashan raised his hand.

Han Sanping: “The studio doesn’t, but some private individuals do.”

Later, they saw Mi Jiashan’s motorcycle in the workshop—it was the future-famous Jialing brand.

But at that time, Jialing had just partnered with Honda; the higher-performance joint-venture model had not yet been produced—Mi Jiashan rode a lightweight motorcycle, the CJ50, independently developed by Jialing several years earlier.

To Wei Ming, it looked more like a future electric scooter—thin and flimsy.

But this lightweight motorcycle sold extremely well in Chongqing, since the city’s hilly terrain left no room for bicycles.

Chen Kaige said: “This thing can’t carry much weight, can it?”

Mi Jiashan: “Heavy loads are tough, but carrying my wife? No problem—oh, my wife is Pan Hong, about a hundred jin.”

Wei Ming: Xue Jie weighs only ninety jin.

Hearing this, Feng Xiaogang’s small eyes widened—he was married to Pan Hong? Him?!

He silently noted: Making films lets you marry movie stars!

Zhang Yimou remained calm—Pan Hong was nothing; did he know about Nan Gong Shu and Bei Zhu Lin? Neither had anything to do with him.

Wei Ming tried riding the motorcycle in the spacious workshop—it was indeed light and had decent power.

When the rain lessened, he rode outside, testing it on rough terrain.

Finally, he decided: “Are these motorcycles still sold in Chengdu? I want to buy a batch for the crew.”

These motorcycles weren’t expensive—under a thousand yuan each—and Wei Ming could easily afford them.

Of course, gasoline would be Emei Studio’s responsibility—mainly securing fuel quotas.

Mi Jiashan immediately helped Wei Ming make inquiries; they learned only three were left in Chengdu stores. Learning Wei Ming needed them, the manager promised to request stock from the Chongqing headquarters.

Wei Ming was seen as a great benefactor in Sichuan.

Wei Ming said: “Take all three, and add seven more—make it ten.”

The next day, the three motorcycles arrived, and the rain stopped; Han Sanping could drive, so he took the studio’s Jeep, carrying Feng Xiaoning, Mi Jiashan, Chen Kaige, Wei Hong, and a mountain of luggage.

Wei Ming, Zhang Yimou, and Feng Xiaogang rode the motorcycles straight to Wei Ming’s grandmother’s home—the sun was bright, filling these young men under thirty with a thrilling sense of boundless freedom.

Feng Xiaogang rode the slowest, lagging behind, watching the Jeep and motorcycles ahead, thinking: Making films is amazing!

This trip would take them not only to Ya’an and Baoxing, but also to several famous beautiful villages in Sichuan.

Jiuzhaigou was also on Wei Ming’s list, but its scenery was so extraordinarily beautiful he hesitated whether to include it—the place was too ethereal; he wanted the film to be beautiful, but not a mere travelogue.

They didn’t reach his grandmother’s home in one day; they spent the night in Pujiang County, refueled, and ate Pujiang kiwifruit.

Ideally, shooting locations should be as close to Chengdu as possible—problems and logistics would be easier to handle.

For example, Beijing Film Studio’s “Xu Mao and His Daughters” was shot in Jianyang County near Chengdu.

But places closer to political and cultural centers lacked distinctive character—they felt soulless, like Wei Ming’s hometown in Hebei.

The next day, they finally arrived in Ya’an’s Baoxing County.

Han Sanping, driving ahead, stopped before a large bridge and shouted excitedly to the motorcycles behind: “Look! Wei Ming Bridge!”

They had reached the Qingyi River; at everyone’s strong request, they took a group photo beside the stone monument on the bridge.

First, they went to the town near his grandmother’s home; to facilitate transport, his uncle and elder brother-in-law had built the feed factory in town, but their family still lived in the village.

“Bro, Xiao Hong!” Long Xiaoyang had just seen off a mule cart hauling feed, then spotted this group—cars, motorcycles!

Wei Ming asked: “Is there a place to eat in town? Let’s grab something first.”

“Sure thing—I’ll take you to a private restaurant, the food’s excellent.”