Chapter Ninety-Five: A Queue Too Long to See the End

The clang of metal rang out with a bright, pleasing note. Between the two iron swords, a spray of dazzling sparks burst into life, shimmering beautifully in the last glow of sunset.

“How is it?”

Ning Hao, who was handling the camera, looked anxiously at Wu Xiang. For this shot, his lens had already been pushed as close as it could possibly get to the two blades, and he had filmed it several times already.

“Good!”

At last Wu Xiang was satisfied. What he had just seen looked like a special effect made by computer, vivid and exquisite.

It was only a tiny shot, merely the clash of two weapons, but Wu Xiang wanted even that collision to possess beauty, because only then could the entire battle scene be lifted to a higher level. Even this small fragment demanded meticulous care. Wu Xiang had specially rented a high-speed camera, the sort most beloved by nature documentaries, and only that kind of equipment could capture the effect he wanted.

Brilliant sparks, lingering sparks.

“Excellent! Next, we do the horse falls!”

Wu Xiang moved on to the next detail shot.

The battle scene he truly wanted had not yet begun filming, because the ten thousand men he needed had not arrived. For now, he was only shooting the many small detail shots required by a war sequence.

For example, the clash of weapons. These were things that would be added in during post-production, and only then would the battle scenes look more impressive. And of course there were other details as well, such as the speed of the horses.

Because he had used the special props he himself had devised, the horses could not run very fast. But he still had to make them look fast, and there was a way to do that.

Mount the camera on the horse, then film the hooves and the grass. Since this close-up would not show the rider’s upper body, Mongolian youths could be used as horsemen. As for filming the grassland, to the human eye it would seem to sweep backward at tremendous speed. Once such shots were cut into the sequence, they would create the feeling of a galloping charge.

To put it more profoundly, this was a form of psychological suggestion. The ground streaking by at high speed would make people feel that the horse itself was moving fast, even if it was not. Stitch enough of those shots together, and that effect would emerge. That was the charm of cinema: with the right lens, one could work all kinds of magic.

These were all shots meant for later editing, all ingredients to make Wu Xiang’s envisioned battle scene more perfect. They were side dishes, as it were. But the main course of this grand feast could still not be served, because the people Wu Xiang needed had not yet come.

It was already late August. Wu Xiang claimed he was not anxious, but that would have been a lie. If they could not finish filming this summer, they would have to wait until next year, and there was no grassland like this in the south. That would only drive the production costs even higher.

The earlier alterations to trousers, tack, and so on had already increased expenses. Although no additional funding had yet been requested, that was only because the big scenes had not been shot. Even so, it had already gone beyond Wu Xiang’s original plan.

Truthfully, Wu Xiang was intensely envious of directors who worked full-time. If he were one of them, then no matter what investment or budget came his way, he could simply devote himself to filming without worry. As for whether the budget went over? What did that have to do with him?

Directors could be very fortunate indeed.

Just then, from the distance came a rolling rumble of engines. The sound started faintly, then swelled and swelled until it was like thunder, making the vast grassland seem to tremble.

“What is that...?”

Almost everyone in the crew was stunned.

What they saw was a long dragon of vehicles, a procession made entirely of heavy trucks!

If there had been only a few, or even a dozen, it would not have been enough to call it a dragon. But what appeared before them now was a line of trucks that seemed to have no end in sight.

Too many to count. So many that no one could even tell how many there were, as if they were endless.

Squealing to a stop, one truck pulled up in front of Wu Xiang. The door opened, and an officer appeared before him.

“I say, Xiao Wu, you really are a lucky boy. This is the ten thousand men you wanted!”

That booming voice could belong to no one else but Colonel Huang. Seeing Wu Xiang’s outfit, however, he was a little puzzled.

“Huh? What happened to you? Been in the wars?”

“Hello, Uncle Huang! I’ve been waiting for you. This is nothing, really, just a small matter, heh heh heh...”

Wu Xiang’s face broke instantly into the broadest grin.

“This is a unit stationed in Inner Mongolia. Here you are: three hundred trucks, a ten-thousand-man unit, plus more than three hundred logistics personnel. Come on.”

At that moment Colonel Huang led Wu Xiang forward, and another officer came to meet them.

“This is Division Commander Zhang Jinxiang. You should show a little respect, boy,” Colonel Huang introduced.

“Hello, Division Commander Zhang.”

Wu Xiang certainly knew how to behave.

“Hello. This time we’ve come to give your production our full support. If there’s anything you need us to do, just say so.”

Division Commander Zhang was quite easygoing.

“You’re too kind.”

Wu Xiang was still being warm with him when someone else arrived.

“This is Vice Mayor Wang of Bayan Nur City. He came today to offer his regards to all of you,” Colonel Huang introduced another figure.

“Hello, hello.”

Wu Xiang found it odd. Why was a government official here too?

“I’ve heard your name, Director Wu, for quite some time, but I never expected you to be so young when I finally saw you. You make the rest of us feel like we’ve wasted our lives, ha ha ha...”

Vice Mayor Wang seemed very affable indeed. At the very least, he had no airs about him and could even joke around.

“You flatter me, Vice Mayor Wang.”

Wu Xiang said as much, but in his heart he did not relax his guard. People from official circles were never to be underestimated.

Still, his caution turned out to be unnecessary, because Vice Mayor Wang quickly explained his purpose. Visiting the crew was only one part of it. The other, and more important, was to ask whether the production could cooperate with them. In truth, what he hoped was for Wu Xiang to agree to help promote Bayan Nur City.

It was simply a matter of drawing a little more attention to the tourism projects of the Bayan Nur grasslands, perhaps making a bit of publicity for them.

What else could Wu Xiang say?

That was easy enough. I’ll put a thank-you in the credits, and if I’m on any programs, I’ll mention it there. Wouldn’t that settle it?

But Vice Mayor Wang’s idea was that they should ideally film an advertisement about the city and this stretch of grassland. Of course, they would not let Director Wu work for free. In the future, they would make things convenient for the crew in every way, whether with meals, transportation, or anything else.

He had to agree. Absolutely had to agree.

One must not forget how Wu Xiang had answered when he applied to film school. Since the request had been brought to him now, how could he possibly refuse? As for the advertisement, that was actually very simple. If he remembered correctly, Hao Yi’s normal path in life was to become famous through commercials. Leave it to him.

Wu Xiang probably did not imagine that more than a decade later, when this Vice Mayor Wang was finally taken down for having stolen far too much, he would write in his confession: I made major contributions to the tourism industry of Bayan Nur. At the time, I truly did not take a single benefit for myself. Director Wu can testify for me...

In any case, the ten thousand men had finally arrived, and Wu Xiang’s plan could now be put into motion. But first he would have to let them set up camp.

Wu Xiang was not one to brag, but when he saw those ten thousand men standing together, he was genuinely moved. The scale of it was staggering. Back when they had filmed the flood sequence, there had only been a little over two hundred people. Compared with this, it was the difference between heaven and earth.

When they stood in dense formation the next day, it did not yet seem so dramatic. But the moment the order was given and everyone dispersed, the feeling was that of mountains of people and seas of faces, as though they would fill the entire grassland to the brim.

“Attention! At ease!”

“Eyes right! Eyes front!”

The commands echoed across the whole grassland without pause. Despite the enormous number of people, there was not the slightest chaos.

That was the difference when it came to the army. If it had been ordinary extras, with so many people it would already have become a market square. No, at the very least, a shopping center.

First the uniforms, then rehearsals.

Before formal filming began, this process had to be completed. They also had to identify those Mongolian soldiers among them. No doubt quite a few could ride horses, though many had probably never even touched one.

Not bad. They found nearly seven thousand who could ride, and the skills they had not been lost after all, so Wu Xiang’s little invention could be set aside. Still, that invention was definitely useful, because many others would need it.

A rehearsal for ten thousand people naturally took a great deal of time, but Wu Xiang did not have much time left. Once October arrived, the wind would start sweeping across the grassland. It was said that Bayan Nur was rich in wind power resources, so they had to hurry.