Chapter Ninety-One: One Million a Minute

The production crew of The Great Emperor Han had already been staying at the Qin Palace for two months. The weather was clear today, not a cloud in the sky, perfect for shooting the final scene at the Qin Palace.

In fact, they had already waited several days for a fine day like this, and in the meantime the future stars had suffered terribly.

"Hey, Xiangzi, how much longer are we supposed to wait?" Huang Haibo, dressed in a black Han official robe, fanned himself with a ceremonial tablet in hand as he complained to Wu Xiang.

"Keep waiting. You're the uncle, and you can't even wait for your nephew's most important day?" Wu Xiang teased him back.

Huang Haibo had been cast as Tian Fen, Emperor Wu's maternal uncle. It was actually a pretty good role, but Huang Haibo did not want it. He thought he could play Dongfang Shuo, that romantic poet.

But in Wu Xiang's version, there was no Dongfang Shuo at all. In the historical record, Dongfang Shuo was nothing more than a court entertainer. Though he did serve as an official and wrote elegant prose, he had nowhere near the overwhelming influence over Emperor Wu that later legends claimed. And in terms of age, he was even two years younger than Emperor Wu.

So, in order to show respect for history, the character was left out.

Yet Huang Haibo still felt that Tian Fen was not a good fit, because although the man was Liu Che's uncle, before his rise to prominence he had been disgustingly sycophantic. Wu Xiang even exaggerated that part artistically, just to sharpen the contrast and add some humor.

Still, Wu Xiang was very protective of his friends. If you do not want Tian Fen, fine—try a eunuch, or a court attendant, or something like that?

Huang Haibo was furious. You heartless bastard, are you trying to ruin my image? I already played a sleazy man before; now if I play a petty villain or a eunuch, how can I ever show my face again?

But Wu Xiang was set on it. Take it or leave it.

With no way out, Huang Haibo had to accept Tian Fen. Better than a eunuch, at least.

In truth, Wu Xiang was doing this for Huang Haibo's own good. Ever since The First Intimate Encounter, Huang Haibo's prospects had been rising fast—not in salary, but in his appeal to women.

There were schoolgirls, little-known young starlets from nowhere, all flocking to him. Everyone said he was a good man. Not handsome, perhaps, but considerate and tender.

He really had become surprisingly good at winning women over. Since filming The First Intimate Encounter, Huang Haibo's skill at wooing women had improved rapidly. He had an especially gifted sense for romance, and that mouth of his—there was no need to say how much women liked it. And the fellow loved bragging to Wu Xiang about how many beautiful, tall women were sticking to him.

He also seemed to accept all comers, somehow managing to coax every single one of them into obedience.

Watching his buddy drift ever closer to a life of chasing women everywhere, Wu Xiang felt immense pressure. Could it be that, because of him, the guy would ultimately die under a woman's hand?

But that was like blaming the restroom for not being able to take a dump. Wasn't I only an outside factor?

Even so, Wu Xiang knew full well that his responsibility was serious. He had to warn this hopeless friend somehow. He could not say it outright; he would have to hint around the subject. As for whether Huang Haibo would understand, Wu Xiang had no confidence at all. He wanted very much to say, "The sea of desire is boundless; turn back, and you still have the shore. Find one woman and settle down." But he had no reason strong enough to say it.

Forget it. One step at a time.

"Hey, hey! You, the palace maid over there! I'm talking to you! Keep your eyes down, keep your eyes down, do you understand?" Wu Xiang spotted another maid glaring around and immediately snapped. Clearly, the weather had made everyone irritable.

"We haven't even started shooting yet! Who do you think you are, ordering me around?" Yao Chen had quite the temper—how could she swallow that? As soon as she heard it, she flared up like a hen guarding eggs, ready to fight.

"What kind of attitude is that?" Wu Xiang actually wanted to laugh. Teasing Yao Dabao was genuinely amusing.

"This is my attitude!" She planted her hands on her hips, ready for battle at any moment. At first Yao Chen had really been so angry that she did not want to act anymore. But she was the type who loved to be contrary: if you don't want me to act, then I will act all the more. So she came along.

Wu Xiang smiled inwardly and decided not to stoop to the level of a little woman.

Yao Chen did a pretty good job, really good. Wu Xiang was already thinking of giving her another role, perhaps on the Xiongnu side—surely it could not be all men...

At this moment, on the broad square before the Hall of Universal Unity, Huang Haibo was not the only one lacking the bearing of an official. There were more than two hundred people all told, all fanning themselves with the tablets in their hands. Around them stood many Han soldiers in armor, upright and motionless, each like a sculpture.

As for those soldiers, needlessly to say, they were the troops Wu Xiang had asked Colonel Huang to help arrange. They were all wearing armor over thick robes. In weather this hot, how could they not be sweating? Yet their discipline was impeccable, admirable to behold.

The officials, of course, were actors, so naturally they could not compare with real soldiers. To make up the numbers, many extras, and even those who would not appear until the later parts of the story, had also changed into costume and been sent out.

This grand scene was to film Emperor Wu's enthronement ceremony. Wu Xiang had directly asked Colonel Huang for three thousand men, a full regiment, and the southern troops Colonel Huang contacted really did give him face. What Wu Xiang wanted was to capture the majesty of the Son of Heaven of Han. That kind of splendor had to be built by people.

Since it was an enthronement ceremony, the protagonist was naturally Little Ming. But right now Little Ming had not appeared. So what was he doing now?

The enthronement ceremony they were about to film was set in the year Emperor Wu turned sixteen. Sixteen—very young indeed. The scenes filmed before this were actually for an older age, which was perfectly normal and reasonable.

Wu Xiang had not found a sixteen-year-old actor to play Emperor Wu at that point. To be honest, he felt that pulling in some child actor like an extra was simply meaningless, and that such a performance would probably just waste more film.

So Little Ming himself had to come. But by now Little Ming was already a twenty-three-year-old young man, quite different from the sixteen-year-old version of himself. Adolescence is one of the most important stages of growth in life, and the changes are enormous.

What was to be done?

Wu Xiang came up with a way. He could temporarily restore some of Little Ming's youth, though only for a short while.

That method was simple: lose weight.

A slimmer person looks younger. Besides, people of our country tend not to look old as easily. If this had been a white Westerner, there would have been no way around it; they would have needed to find a truly young actor. Perhaps that was one of the advantages of our race.

But even being slimmer would not fully meet the requirement of a sixteen-year-old's appearance. A few special measures were still needed.

That was what Little Ming was doing now: steaming in a sauna.

Hard to believe, wasn't it? This was the kind of thing that required a bit of life experience to think of. After a bath, a person's skin looks rosier and fairer, and the pores appear younger. This was something Wu Xiang had realized during his own fitness training, so he used it here.

Why a sauna? Because a sauna makes that state even more obvious than an ordinary bath. So they skipped showers and tubs and went straight to the sauna.

But now it was sweltering summer, a blazing southern summer at that. Steaming a sauna in weather like this...

"He's coming! He's coming!" Wang Hongzhi, dressed in official robes, came running from the front, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Quick, quick! Get ready! That big crane arm, raise it! Faster!..." Wu Xiang's spirits rose at once. "All positions! Everyone get set! Stop fanning yourselves and move! Do it in one take! It has to be one take!"

That's right, it had to be one take.

Not only because Little Ming's steamed-and-"young" condition could not be maintained for long, but also because makeup was helping them here. The makeup artist for The Great Emperor Han was no ordinary man: it was Teacher Yang Shudong, the same makeup artist from Romance of the Three Kingdoms and The Qin Assassination, brought in through Han Third Master. Even with him on the job, the youthful Huang Xiaoming could only stay "fresh" for about ten minutes at most.

Add in dressing, makeup, walking... there was really not much time to use. They could only rush the shot.

"Action!" Once he saw the panicked crowd had settled down, Wu Xiang shouted, and the scene began.

A procession moved forward in majestic formation from the palace gate toward the Hall of Universal Unity. At the head of the line was Emperor Wu of Han, Liu Che—Huang Xiaoming.

At this moment, Little Ming wore a Crown of Heaven, and a dragon robe with a black base, embroidered with the sun, moon, stars, golden dragons, colorful phoenixes, mountains and rivers, flames and fierce winds!

Looking at him now, he seemed impossibly young, his face lean and flushed with a healthy red glow that made him look even younger. A faint smile played at the corners of his mouth; his steps were steady, his gaze sharp and piercing. The phrase "hawk's eyes and wolf's regard" fit him perfectly.

What state is imperial majesty, exactly?

To be honest, nobody really knows.

But before filming, Wu Xiang had already gone over the role carefully with Little Ming. He had to be confident, exhilarated, in a state where he looked down on everyone and acted like the whole world belonged to him.

Little Ming pondered it carefully for a long time and practiced many times below the stage. Even he felt it was still a little lacking. Wu Xiang thought it was acceptable after seeing it, but Little Ming wanted perfection. When Little Ming noticed Wu Xiang's own build, he immediately understood where he had been coming up short.

And then—

"Huh? Little Ming, this time your presence is much better." In the last rehearsal before filming, Wu Xiang felt Little Ming's performance was practically flawless. "Keep this up, and the Oscars won't be far off for you!"

Faced with such praise, Little Ming was of course delighted beyond measure. But he would never tell anyone that he had secretly gone to Yiwu and bought ten pairs of shoe insoles, and he had only used half of them!

"Oh ho ho!"...

With that earlier rehearsal behind them, Wu Xiang could finally shout the slogan of "one take." Otherwise, in this kind of heat, would you really want to steam a few more rounds?

To achieve one-take success, Wu Xiang did not use the camera to track along the long distance from the gate to the Hall of Universal Unity. The camera was mounted in several places along the walls, on fixed stands, and there was also a large crane with a platform suspended from it, on which someone stood, to create a bird's-eye effect. That was much cheaper than a helicopter.

The camera shot from whatever angle was needed. If it could move, it would follow Little Ming. As for catching other shots in the frame, that was no problem—they could simply be cut out in editing later.

Little Ming advanced step by step to the foot of the stairs before the Hall of Universal Unity. He did not dare use all the insoles at once, because they had already tested it: too many of those things made walking terribly awkward.

Then two men who looked like eunuchs came out to guide him from the side. They did not dare stand before the emperor, for fear he might trip.

With a graceful sweep of his robe sleeve, Little Ming strode forward and steadily mounted the stairs of the Hall of Universal Unity.

He did not enter the hall itself, only ascended the steps, where a table had been set with sacrificial offerings. Then he turned to face the assembled ministers.

With a rush, everyone prostrated themselves. The soldiers, even more uniformly, dropped to one knee, the sound of it utterly stirring. In truth, this too had been rehearsed many times.

Then Little Ming raised one hand, as if bidding the ministers rise.

At that moment, the white-faced eunuch shouted, "By mandate of Heaven, may he live long and prosper forever!"

"Okay! That's a wrap!" One take was enough; this was all they needed. What they wanted was precisely this presence.

This scene was only a symbol of seizing supreme power. In Wu Xiang's plan, it would appear on screen for no more than a minute. Yet for that single minute, he had spent over one million yuan.

What he was pursuing was spectacle, a scene of grand and overwhelming magnificence.

With this shot completed, however, the filming plan at the Qin Palace in Hengdian had also come to an end. The progress and quality both satisfied Wu Xiang greatly. Two months of shooting—much faster than that other grand production by Director Chen, wasn't it?

Next, there would be no more scenes here. The crew of The Great Emperor Han would head north, where they would film the most important of all: the grand war sequences.