Chapter 43: On Huang Feihong

Jia Leilei gave Wu Yuchen a general introduction to their work on “Wu of Dance,” and seeing how delighted this young Wu appeared, he secretly smiled—the charm of wuxia for the young was truly immense.

Then he pulled out a booklet bound with A4 paper and handed it to Wu Yuchen:

“Young Wu, take a look—how many of these films have you seen?”

Wu Yuchen took the booklet and stared: “Shaolin Temple,” “The Burning of the Red Lotus Temple,” “The One-Armed Swordsman,” “Dragon Gate Inn”…

Each page listed many films, with years noted after them, no particular order, but without exception—all were wuxia films; this thin booklet alone contained at least seven or eight hundred.

Wu Yuchen wasn’t in a rush—he flipped through the pages slowly, and after a long while, when he finished, he estimated in his mind and replied:

“Teacher Jia, I’d say I’ve seen four or five tenths of them.”

In his past life, he’d watched many wuxia films through the “Wu of Dance” documentary, but he hadn’t covered all seven or eight hundred here—some he’d never even heard of.

Jia Leilei was sipping from a white enamel teacup; upon hearing this, he raised an eyebrow and set the lid down. “You’re certain?”

The others in the room also looked at Wu Yuchen; some frowned slightly, thinking this newcomer was a braggart.

The films listed here were all wuxia movies from the early 1920s onward with any notable reputation or influence.

For an ordinary film enthusiast, claiming to have seen even one-tenth would be impressive—some of these old films weren’t even accessible.

Among those seated, some had spent their entire lives in film; before joining this documentary, the most any of them had seen was only three-tenths of this list—but this kid just claimed four or five tenths—wasn’t that pure boasting?

Wu Yuchen nodded at Jia Leilei. “About that.”

Jia Leilei chuckled. He thought young Wu was bluffing, but he wasn’t annoyed—he said:

“Since you’ve seen so many, you must have some insights on wuxia films. Tell me—how much do you know about Huang Feihong in wuxia cinema? Speak freely.”

Several elderly consultants smiled at this question—they knew Jia was testing the kid’s depth.

In recent years, with Li Lianjie’s Huang Feihong becoming wildly popular, who among wuxia fans didn’t know Huang Feihong?

Any wuxia enthusiast could rattle off something about the Huang Feihong in the films.

But if this young Wu could only name Li Lianjie’s and Xu Ke’s few Huang Feihong films, he was clearly just a boastful fool.

They wouldn’t say it outright, but they could judge his ability—above all, boasting signaled carelessness; if he truly couldn’t deliver, they’d just replace him with Hou Keming.

When Wu Yuchen heard this question, he grinned—this was the perfect question. In his past life’s “Wu of Dance” documentary, there had been a dedicated segment analyzing Huang Feihong as a pivotal figure in wuxia cinema.

Now that he was with the “Wu of Dance” team, Wu Yuchen felt inspired—he mimicked the film’s gesture, clasping his fists before him and bowing respectfully to all around:

“Dear teachers, I’ll risk my incompetence—if I say anything wrong, please correct me.”

After speaking, Wu Yuchen cleared his throat and announced clearly:

“By the end of 1994, the most recent Huang Feihong film was Xu Ke’s ‘Huang Feihong V: The Dragon City Massacre,’ starring Zhao Wenzhuo. The earliest, as far as I know, was Hu Peng’s 1949 Hong Kong films: ‘The Legend of Huang Feihong: Part One—Whipwind Extinguishes the Candle’ and ‘Part Two—The Burning of the Tyrant’s Manor’—considered one film in two parts.

In between, over a hundred films featured Huang Feihong as the protagonist—he is, without doubt, the most prolific character in Chinese cinema history—no, correction—the most prolific in world cinema history!”

At just this point, Jia Leilei perked up—this young Wu actually knew something; few ordinary people would.

The others also grew interested, their frowns easing, eager to hear what else he might reveal.

Wu Yuchen continued:

“In my personal view, I divide Huang Feihong in film into three generations.

First-generation Huang Feihong—the traditional hero.

The primary creators of this first generation were director Hu Peng and actor Guan Dexing—the elder. From 1949 to the 1960s, they collaborated on fifty-nine Huang Feihong films, establishing the character’s golden age. Guan Dexing, already a martial artist, was called ‘Huang Feihong incarnate.’

In these films, Huang Feihong embodied the classic heroic ideal: fighting injustice, suppressing evil, promoting good, upholding traditional Confucian virtues of propriety, righteousness, patience, forgiveness, and harmony—perfectly matching Hong Kong’s turbulent era, when people yearned for stability and peace. Hence, he was called the ‘Classical Hero.’”

Wu Yuchen raised his right hand, holding up two fingers:

“Second-generation Huang Feihong—the comic hero.

After the mid-1960s, Hong Kong had gained economic strength and social stability; audiences demanded more entertainment. In this context, comedic kung fu films emerged, led by Yuan Heping and Cheng Long—such as ‘Drunken Master I’ and ‘II.’

Huang Feihong in this era began to ignore feudal authority, challenge tradition, no longer passively enduring or forgiving—he gained humor, even modernized his attire, appearing mostly as a comedic figure. Hence, I call him the ‘Comic Hero.’”

Wu Yuchen paused. Seeing those around him either listening intently or smiling, he knew he’d passed the test.

He smiled slightly, then turned slightly to the side and said:

“Third-generation Huang Feihong—the one we all know best: patriotism, benevolence, invincibility!

The representative figure needs no introduction—it’s Li Lianjie.

Since the 1980s, cultural exchanges across the straits have grown, and with Hong Kong’s impending return, Huang Feihong films added themes of resisting foreign invasion and opposing imperialist humiliation to their traditional moral core, elevating the Chinese knightly image with deeper cultural and spiritual meaning, profoundly influencing society and sparking reflection.

Li Lianjie’s Huang Feihong embodies classic postmodern cultural eclecticism: blending martial arts, romance, and comedy; uniting martial vigor with humor; his masterly bearing far surpasses the second generation—he strives ceaselessly, embraces diversity, and carries the world in his heart, thus opening a new era for Huang Feihong cinema!

Though the three generations of Huang Feihong differ and evolve, they all reflect the social customs and public psyche of their times; Huang Feihong has always upheld the spirit of the knight, embodying the people’s hope and pursuit of justice.

One could say, Huang Feihong has become an indispensable classic knight figure in Chinese wuxia cinema!”

When Wu Yuchen finished, he fell silent—and the entire hall grew utterly still, not a sound to be heard.