Chapter Twenty: Ready to Begin

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The negotiations with the August First Factory had concluded successfully. They agreed to contribute their own filming locations, equipment, technical crew, and even help recruit soldiers from the military as extras, effectively investing in the project through these resources.

And what did they ask for in return? In the words of Commander Huang, “No matter what, you must pay the wages during filming. If you really make money, then settle the unpaid wages for everyone.”

Such simple, honest demands nearly moved Wu Xiang to tears. Huang Yanbo, however, found his reaction oddly amusing, though he had no evidence and thus didn’t press the matter.

“You’re full of crooked logic and strange ideas!” As soon as they stepped out of the factory gates, Huang Yanbo couldn’t hold back. He looked at Wu Xiang in a completely different light now—more incredulous than when Wu Xiang had claimed to be the author of “The First Time.”

“Hehe…” Wu Xiang was jubilant. How could he not be? With the August First Factory’s support, it was as if he could now shoot a grand production with minimal investment. Instead of answering Huang Yanbo directly, he countered, “How do you know Commander Huang? You both have the surname Huang—are you related?”

“Who’s related to him? When I was a kid, I was in a film and he happened to see me. He liked me, and since we share a surname, I started calling him ‘Uncle.’” Huang Yanbo replied naturally but quickly caught himself, “Wait, I was the one asking you!”

Wu Xiang chuckled, “My ideas aren’t twisted. Think about it: the President himself has done all sorts of things, right? However impressive you want, he’s done it. You’ll see.”

Huang Yanbo began mentally reviewing the films he had watched, and when he remembered that Harrison Ford fought terrorists on Air Force One, it seemed Wu Xiang might have a point. “Fine, you make sense. You’ve got skills, and you can talk your way through anything. I admire you—really!”

He meant it, too. As far as he knew, Huang Hong had only said Wu Xiang should come over for a meeting, but a single conversation had resolved everything.

But Wu Xiang smiled and said, “Hehe… There’s even more to admire.”

“Now you’re just boasting!” Huang Yanbo scoffed, unwilling to believe it.

But since Wu Xiang had spoken, he wasn’t just boasting.

“Classmates! Take a look! The ‘Great Flood’ film crew is recruiting actors! If you want to act, if you want to do something for the disaster area, please join us!”

“Come see, come hear! The ‘Great Flood’ crew is hiring! Generous benefits, food and lodging included, and most importantly, you’ll be contributing your love—we stand with the people of the disaster area!”

Today was September 1st, the first day of the new semester at the Film Academy. Wu Xiang and his companions from Room 307 set up a recruitment booth at the entrance and started calling out.

The timing was perfect—on the first day of school, even those who had outside jobs had to return to register. Of course, the very famous ones busy with other projects wouldn’t be back, but for Wu Xiang’s purposes, this was the best time to find actors.

“Tall Bamboo!” As it happened, someone approached—a beautiful woman.

“Hey, hello, Wen.” Wu Xiang recognized her immediately; it was Wen Zhengrong.

“You’re recruiting actors here?” Wen Zhengrong got straight to the point.

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“Yes.” Wu Xiang sensed an opportunity.

“What are the benefits?” She wasted no words.

“Food and lodging included. For women, 1,500.” Wu Xiang quoted a price, but…

“That’s too low. Does it even meet the minimum wage standard?” Wen Zhengrong’s brows furrowed, as if questioning if they were recruiting migrant workers.

Wu Xiang smiled and explained, “It’s not low. This is a male-centered film, so female roles are few. If you take the part, I happen to have a female college student role—very few scenes, less than a week’s work. Plus, this is for disaster relief; just consider it a charitable act.”

“No leading female role?” Wen Zhengrong’s brows knitted deeper.

“That college student is the lead female.” Wu Xiang was honest.

“All right! I’ll do it!” A lead role is a lead, even if the scenes are few.

“Great!” Wu Xiang had found his first leading lady. He wasn’t lying—the female roles were genuinely limited in this film.

This was a story about flood relief. Female characters, representing gentleness, had their place, but not many scenes. Wu Xiang’s intention was to add a touch of softness without making things dull. Too much would drag the pace, and besides, that wasn’t the spirit the film aimed to portray.

“Tall Bamboo! What about me?” Wen Zhengrong hadn’t left yet when another beauty approached—Zhang Yanyan.

Wu Xiang saw her with the same lively, mischievous charm as Zhu Qiqi, even without smiling. He remembered that Zhang Yanyan appeared in the original “Surging Waves,” so why not cast her? He said, “Of course, no problem.”

“What about the pay?” Zhang Yanyan was a bit embarrassed to ask.

Wu Xiang didn’t hesitate, “Food and lodging included, 1,000.”

Why was the standard lower? Could she accept that? “Oh come on! Wen just got 1,500, and now you’re lowering the rate?”

Wu Xiang quickly explained, “Simple—Wen is the lead, you’d be the second female.”

“Ay!” Zhang Yanyan stomp her foot and unleashed a woman’s greatest weapon—she began to pout, “I want 1,500 too! Otherwise it’s unfair!”

“How about 1,200? There has to be some difference from the lead, right?” Wu Xiang was a master negotiator.

“You, you…” Zhang Yanyan was exasperated.

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Even Wen Zhengrong couldn’t watch anymore. She said, “Let it go. He’s stingy to the bone. From now on, let’s call him Iron Rooster.”

“Cluck, cluck, that’s perfect—Tall Bamboo Iron Rooster!” Zhang Yanyan was delighted.

Wu Xiang, however, was less pleased. “Why do I have so many nicknames? Who keeps inventing these?”

Wen Zhengrong remained silent, but Zhang Yanyan laughed, “You’re clever—how could you not know? Cluck, cluck…”

Wu Xiang realized it must have been Huang Yi, but she hadn’t been around lately, even as he prepared to film. “By the way, how many nicknames do I have now?” Wu Xiang was curious.

“Cluck, cluck, let me think—Big Shorts, Skinny Monkey, Clothes Hanger…” Zhang Yanyan rattled off a dozen without effort.

Wu Xiang’s forehead was growing darker with every name…

“Buddy, I really admire you now. You’re something else!” Seeing Wu Xiang offer such pay, Huang Yanbo could only give a thumbs up.

“Hehe, too kind.” Wu Xiang’s grin was as sly as ever.

“Do you know what I admire most about you?” When Wu Xiang shook his head, Huang Yanbo continued, “You can swindle anyone!”

It was clear he was being sarcastic, but Wu Xiang could only reply helplessly, “I have no choice—my budget is tight.”

That was true enough, so Huang Yanbo couldn’t argue further.

Don’t underestimate this little booth—Wu Xiang genuinely recruited a lot of people. The film needed many roles, though most were minor. Thanks to the Film Academy’s resources, casting went smoothly.

The most interesting catch wasn’t an actor, but a teacher—Mu Deyuan, a lecturer from the cinematography department, volunteered to help with filming and said wages weren’t an issue. His reasoning was simple: “If you students can do this much for the disaster area, how can I, as a teacher, not do the same?”

With that, applicants flooded in—even many freshmen wanted to join, though Wu Xiang had to refuse them, as the Film Academy didn’t allow newcomers to participate in productions yet.

The main roles were already settled: Kun would play the male lead, Zhang Shangwu; Huang Yanbo, the second male lead, Liu Xiangqun. Huang Hong volunteered to play the general’s father and even brought in Teacher Song Chunli to play the general’s wife. Moreover, they would all act for zero pay, saying it was just to lend support and add momentum.

With everything in place, “The Great Flood” officially began filming!