Chapter 154: The Wrapping Up of Drawing Swords

Old Li! You are really letting me down! Gao Yuanyuan, playing the role of Tian Yu, rebuked Li Yunlong loudly. Leaving without even telling me in advance! And you call yourself a friend!

Ah, Tian, you are doing me a great injustice here. I didn't say a word to anyone except you. Li Yunlong smiled with considerable confidence at this moment.

Well, that's more like it! Tian Yu's expression cleared up slightly.

Ah, Tian, who knows how many years it will be before we meet again after this parting. Before we leave, let's have a good chat. We've known each other for so many days now, and I still don't know if you have a special someone?

Old Li, what kind of memory do you have? Haven't I told you before? I turned down Director Luo, and you even supported me back then. Are you losing your mind in your old age? I'm only twenty, I'm not in any rush for this sort of thing.

It is getting late! If you wait too long, all the good men will be gone!

If they're gone, then they're gone, what's the big deal!

Tian! Stop grinning and laughing! I'm talking to you about something serious!

What on earth are you doing? Did I offend you? You're glaring at me with eyes that wide, you scared me to death!

Of course you've offended me! Consider yourself unlucky! I have to take you away with me!

Really? That's wonderful! I've wanted to quit working at the hospital for ages!

However, you have to agree to one condition!

Go ahead and say it! I'll agree to anything!

Then I'm going to say it!

Mm-hm!

Listen to me! I want you to marry me!

...This particular scene was Li Yunlong's rather domineering proposal. It was directed by Ning Hao. The previous scenes he had directed, such as Hai Qing's Feng Nan and Li Bingbing's Zhang Bailu, had all turned out quite well, so this segment was entrusted to him to help speed up the schedule a bit.

In fact, the scene was very simple. The filming technique involved shooting each person individually, capturing close-ups of one actor at a time while they delivered their lines, and then filming the other. Of course, the two actors faced each other during the performances to maintain the right emotional connection. They had to shoot it this way because Ning Hao only had one camera; the other one was with Wu Xiang, who was busy shooting Devils on the Doorstep.

Teacher Li had no issues whatsoever. By this point in the production, Teacher Li had truly become Li Yunlong himself. That's right, he had completely merged into the state of being Li Yunlong—Li Youbin was Li Yunlong, and Li Yunlong was Li Youbin!

However, Gao Yuanyuan's portrayal of Tian Yu still presented a few problems.

As Wu Xiang reviewed the footage, he noticed these weren't single uninterrupted takes, but rather pieced together from several takes. Yet no matter how they were edited, the cuts felt slightly disjointed.

Wu Xiang had already made adjustments to her lines, expressions, and movements to better suit Gao Yuanyuan's Beijing background, as the original character in the novel was a woman from the Jiangnan region, requiring different phrasing. Even so, Gao Yuanyuan still occasionally seemed out of her element.

Still, it was evident that Gao Yuanyuan had worked very hard and shown noticeable improvement, performing much better than before. Earlier, her vocal delivery and line reading seemed constrained and hesitant, always carrying a sense of self-consciousness, but now she was doing much better.

In truth, through voice training sessions and continuous learning over the past many days under the guidance of Wu Xiang and Hai Qing, Gao Yuanyuan had improved herself quite a bit.

Yet the scene could only be polished this much; Gao Yuanyuan still lacked systematic and rigorous training. More importantly, she simply didn't have the time now—apart from shooting commercial advertisements, she had also become entangled in romantic rumors with the young Best Actor Xia Yu. Consequently, Wu Xiang simply accepted it as it was, recognizing that this particular scene would just have to pass. In fact, the original version of Drawing Sword also suffered from this exact flaw.

The Tian Yu in that version was also entirely mismatched with Teacher Li Youbin; the two of them simply lacked chemistry when acting opposite one another. Therefore, the production had resorted to shooting individual close-ups and editing them together. Wu Xiang followed the exact same method because the situation was identical.

It didn't really matter anyway. In terms of physical appearance and pure aesthetics, Gao Yuanyuan surpassed Tong Lei by a significant margin, which meant this romance subplot would still manage to stand out. After all, nothing in this world is ever completely perfect.

Regarding the upcoming trilogy-warfare scenes, Wu Xiang intended to handle them similarly to the original version. Since it was essentially compatriots fighting compatriots, coupled with the prevailing political climate, one could not portray the Nationalist forces in an overly villainous light. Wu Xiang didn't bother staging grand, large-scale battle sequences for the three major campaigns; they simply borrowed some existing footage snippets from The Decisive Engagement, which kept the production costs remarkably low.

The following few days were spent filming minor, fragmented scenes and shooting patch-up footage, which officially wrapped up the principal photography for the new Drawing Sword.

Wrapping up production should naturally have been a joyous occasion that everyone celebrated, but as it turned out, not everyone was happy.

Director Wu, you really know how to string people along! What did you tell me when we first started? And how are you treating me now? Tell me, can you still call yourself a major director? Gao Yuanyuan was displeased. There was no other reason—she felt as though she had ended up playing nothing more than a vase once again!

Indeed, looking at how late Tian Yu makes her entrance, coupled with the lack of depth in the character's storyline—which bore little resemblance to the novel's plot—it would be a miracle if the character weren't reduced to eye candy.

Then again, looking back at Wu Xiang's track record, aside from Zhang Jingchu and Hai Qing's female roles in First Intimacy, which weren't mere vases, it was genuinely difficult to find a single female character in his works that wasn't one. Even Zhang Jingchu later ended up as a vase in Emperor Han Wu, and she had been furious about it.

Seen in that light, Hai Qing was certainly the smart one; she simply refused to act in Wu Xiang's productions anymore, even declining to star in her own boyfriend's projects.

How was Wu Xiang supposed to respond to this? Facing accusations from such a stunning beauty was indeed a tricky predicament.

Well, Yuan Yuan, our production is simply structured according to this plot progression, you see. Besides, what I promised you initially was to film a proper project and teach you how to act, both of which I have fulfilled. Look, I even brought in Teacher Hai, the top graduate from the Performance Department of the Beijing Film Academy, to tutor you. Surely I've done everything I possibly could, haven't I?

He flatly refused to admit fault!

Fine! Wu Xiang, just you wait and play games with me, I've taken note of this! You just wait, we'll see about this! Gao Yuanyuan's words sounded halfway like a threat, yet carried no real menace, while a smile lingered on her face—though certainly not a pleasant one.

Hey! Yuan Yuan, your performance just now was actually quite impressive, truly. Let me tell you, if you can hold onto this exact feeling you just had, your future acting will be exceptionally good. Absolutely, truly! Right now, you come across as completely unpretentious and entirely natural. Trust me, trust me... That scoundrel Wu Xiang was simply too mischievous.

You... You... What kind of person are you! How could Gao Yuanyuan possibly swallow this frustration?

Regardless of her feelings, however, there were no more scenes left to shoot.

Consequently, on February 6, 2002, Wu Xiang's crew officially concluded all filming for Drawing Sword, a piece of news that naturally found its way onto the entertainment headlines.

Beginning in November 2001 and running through February 2002, the shooting pace for the Drawing Sword crew had been remarkably swift. With Wu Xiang fully absorbed in directing, he had paid almost no attention to external matters.

However, a great deal had happened in the film and television industry during this period. First was the Golden Horse Awards in Taiwan, where Qin Hailu defeated Zhang Ziyi, emerging as a dark horse to claim the Best Actress trophy.

Over this piece of news, Qin Hailu had called Wu Xiang several times just to vent about her situation with Zhang Ziyi. Wu Xiang could only play along and agree with whatever she said, guessing that she probably had no idea what his current standing with Zhang Ziyi actually was.

They were still friends of a sort, though Zhang Ziyi never called Wu Xiang. Wu Xiang figured she likely didn't even have his phone number—well, even if she did, she certainly wouldn't call.

In reality, Wu Xiang ought to have attended the Golden Horse Awards because he had films nominated. Emperor Han Wu was shortlisted for Best Feature Film, Best Director, Best Actor, Best Original Screenplay, Best Supporting Actor, Best Supporting Actress, Best Original Film Score, Best Sound Effects, Best Film Editing, and Best Art Direction.

It was a substantial haul of nominations, though the film hadn't actually been released publicly in Taiwan yet. This was a classic tactic used by Taiwanese distributors: entering film festivals or award ceremonies first to generate hype before releasing the film in theaters.

Yet Wu Xiang chose not to attend the Golden Horse ceremony. Partly because he was busy filming, and partly because Zhang Ziyi was scheduled to be there, and he preferred not to stir up any extra complications. Furthermore, none of his personal nominations were for the major top-tier categories.

The principal awards, such as Best Feature Film and Best Director, were not his; he was merely accompanying the other nominees, making his presence somewhat pointless.

Nevertheless, members of his team did win awards. Hao Yi won another award, and Wu Tong was also recognized by the judges. More significantly, two of the supporting cast triumphed: Huang Bo won Best Supporting Actor, and Li Bingbing clinched Best Supporting Actress!

Fairly speaking, those two awards were well-deserved because their performances were unassailable. Huang Bo's portrayal of Tian Fen was brilliant, while Li Bingbing threw herself completely into her art—well, just for that brief moment, which hardly mattered anyway; the crux of the matter was her superb acting, which vividly brought to life a resilient single mother.

In fact, Wen Zhengrong had also been nominated, but regrettably, she failed to secure the victory.

This meant that all the aforementioned individuals had undoubtedly traveled to Taiwan, which also served as a promotional tactic. Even though Wu Xiang didn't go, the box office revenue from Taiwan was not something he wanted to forfeit.

Yet regrettably, Emperor Han Wu, which had been exceptionally formidable otherwise, only managed to rake in around 6 million New Taiwan Dollars at the Taiwan box office, a result that caught quite a few people by surprise.

Needless to say, the primary culprit was piracy. Although the pirate rings had been cracked down upon once in the mainland, once pirated copies leaked out, they proved impossible to suppress.

The stuff spread like a virus, having long since made its way from the mainland to Hong Kong and subsequently to Taiwan. Therefore, securing 6 million in box office receipts for the film was already considered a decent outcome under the circumstances.

It was somewhat regrettable, but nothing more could be done. Even so, Wu Xiang and Yu Dong didn't suffer any catastrophic losses since their revenue distribution was strictly regulated by contract terms.

The ones who suffered the most were the Taiwanese distributors, who had poured immense resources into the film, particularly in marketing. Rumor had it that these fellows had even attempted to bribe the Golden Horse judges—though that was merely hearsay—yet once these dismal box office figures were released, they lost so much money they were practically left penniless.

It seemed piracy truly possessed formidable combat power!