[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-starting-from-stealing-the-role-in-1995-huayu":3,"chapter-starting-from-stealing-the-role-in-1995-huayu-starting-from-stealing-the-role-in-1995-huayu-chapter-57":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Starting from Stealing the Role in 1995 Huayu",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2321046,4540,"Chapter 57","starting-from-stealing-the-role-in-1995-huayu-chapter-57",57,"\u003Cp>Posters were pasted outside the cinema, the most prominent being “Days of Sunshine,” a film released in September this year that, thanks to its acclaim at the Venice Film Festival, had already grossed 40 million since its release. After all, it was a film that had conquered foreign audiences, and this sense of national pride made people eager to watch—even though over 80 percent of viewers left the theater utterly confused.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On either side of the poster were two tough guys: Arnold Schwarzenegger with his muscular physique, and Cheng Long.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schwarzenegger’s “True Lies,” released in mainland China in the first half of this year, ignited the entire Chinese film market upon its debut. His scenes piloting a fighter jet were a devastating blow to domestic productions, making audiences truly understand for the first time what a blockbuster was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The only film capable of rivaling it was Cheng Long’s “The Red Sea.” Cheng Long’s relentless beatings of foreigners, death-defying stunts, and his swaggering ride on an air-cushion vessel left audiences cheering with delight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The box office earnings for these two films in mainland China were 103 million and 95 million respectively; all other films earned under 50 million—a significant gap.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Both films had already been released by mid-year, yet they continued screening in theaters for over half a year.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Yuchen looked at these two posters and, as someone who had seen it all, felt a pang of nostalgia. He knew the mainland film market was about to change dramatically—it was about to enter the Hollywood blockbuster era.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the coming year of 1996, eight of the top ten highest-grossing films in China would be American blockbusters. The eighth-place film, “Kong Fansen,” earned 36 million, and everyone understood why. Cheng Long’s “Police Story 4: Simple Task” stood alone, defeating all eight Hollywood blockbusters to claim the box office crown, defending the last shred of dignity for Chinese cinema.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For the next few years, only Cheng Long could stand against imported blockbusters—and he pioneered the Chinese Spring Festival slot, introducing the mainland to the concept of New Year films, not the so-called “little cannon” Feng Kuzi as later media falsely claimed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So Long Ge’s influence was truly earned through hard-fought battles; no wonder every star in the industry willingly called him Big Brother—no other Hong Kong or Taiwanese artist could match it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Two tickets for ‘The Red Sea.’”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why had Wu Yuchen brought Jiang Qin to the cinema? Those who understand, understand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And looking at the other films listed on the blackboard beside the ticket window—“Bitter Brook,” “Red Cherry,” “Naked Blood”—each one was more depressing than the last, utterly dampening the mood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After entering the theater, Wu Yuchen pulled Jiang Qin straight to the back rows. Back then, movie tickets weren’t assigned seats—first come, first served.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hey, why sit so far back?” Jiang Qin tugged at Wu Yuchen’s arm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The front’s too loud, too noisy—the back’s better for viewing!” Wu Yuchen mumbled an excuse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But we don’t need to sit this far back, and so far to the side…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Qin said this, yet still followed him and sat down. After all, it was his birthday—the birthday boy was king.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Yuchen glanced around—sure enough, he hadn’t chosen wrong. “The Red Sea” had been playing for over half a year; the theater was nearly empty, and their corner was completely deserted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Qin, of course, had already seen “The Red Sea” many times—it was such a hit. But Cheng Long’s films were endlessly rewatchable, and once the movie began, she quickly became absorbed, thoroughly enjoying it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just as Jiang Qin leaned against Wu Yuchen’s shoulder, fully immersed in the film, she suddenly felt a large hand slipping under her clothes. Her heart leapt, her face flushed crimson. She reached out to stop him, turning her head to tell him to stop.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But as she lifted her head, she saw the burning heat in Wu Yuchen’s eyes, making her tremble. Her lips had barely parted when he crushed them with his own.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Monday. Wu Yuchen walked into the classroom and sat down. Beside him, Chen Er leaned over with a sly grin. “How was your birthday date the other day?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Fine,” Wu Yuchen replied vaguely, propping his chin on his hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Fine? Then why do you look so drained?” Chen Er asked, puzzled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Yuchen waved his hand listlessly, offering no further reply.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He recalled the day at the cinema: everything had gone smoothly. Later, he’d pulled Jiang Qin right off her seat and onto his lap. In the dark, nearly empty theater, masked by the film’s sound, Jiang Qin had been swept into a haze of passion. He’d gotten everything—except the final step.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing her whisper “Don’t here” beside his ear, Wu Yuchen had been overjoyed—he took it as consent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But once they stepped outside, the biting winter wind cooled her body and cleared her mind. She adamantly refused to go to a hotel with him. Though she eventually gave him several passionate kisses as compensation, it couldn’t mend his wounded heart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just thinking about it made him miserable—he’d been so close!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Yuchen wasn’t regretting not doing anything in the cinema—he was regretting that they hadn’t watched “Titanic.” If they’d just watched that, and he’d said, “You jump, I jump!”—it would’ve been guaranteed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was just that domestic films back then had almost no romantic movies—what bad luck!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>During the second class break, his pager buzzed again. Wu Yuchen hurried out to find a public phone and called back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hello, this is Wu Yuchen.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A voice came from the other end: Director Gu.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Little Wu, we just discussed your script ‘The Two of Us.’ We can give you a slot, but the budget is only 300,000. Can you make it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Yuchen’s heart leapt at first, but his brow furrowed at the 300,000. From 500,000 down to 300,000—that was nearly half cut!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew he couldn’t negotiate. If he said no, this opportunity would vanish.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He quickly ran through options in his mind, then asked: “Director Gu, if we’re working with 300,000, I’d like to shoot on 16mm film. Is that allowed by the Film Channel?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With insufficient funds, he had to lower his demands.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No problem. We’re not screening it in theaters anyway. 16mm is more than enough for TV.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then I can make it. Thank you, Director Gu, for fighting for this opportunity!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Haha, you’re the one who’s earned it. We’ll finalize it this afternoon—come by to handle the paperwork.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Yuchen exchanged a few more pleasantries with Director Gu before hanging up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The image quality of 16mm film was slightly rougher than 35mm, but on TV, you couldn’t tell. The main advantage was cost—it was less than a third the price of 35mm. Yet 16mm film better evoked realism and nostalgia, which suited “The Two of Us” perfectly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It also didn’t hinder participation in film festivals—many award-winning films were shot on 16mm, since many indie directors had little money.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Yuchen thought for a moment, then picked up the phone again and dialed Old Lady Ruan. She had helped him make connections—he owed her a call to inform and thank her first.\u003C\u002Fp>",1195,"2026-06-20T16:09:29.273Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","ba2f687bbd5ea6270a475ac12c930aebd95dd50ba37c6fc5b29448ea3362e555","starting-from-stealing-the-role-in-1995-huayu-chapter-58","starting-from-stealing-the-role-in-1995-huayu-chapter-56",335,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fstarting-from-stealing-the-role-in-1995-huayu-cover.jpg"]