Chapter Ninety-Seven: Courage

For more than ten days, the crew had been rehearsing, and filming had already gone on for nearly a month. Today, Wu Xiang and the team behind The Great Emperor Wu of Han were finally about to shoot their most crucial scene.

"Sit!"

At the command, everyone dropped into place in a single, orderly sweep, settling onto the grass.

"Sit!" "Sit!" The commands rolled out one after another, each followed by the same crisp, unified motion.

Those rough, booming orders and the synchronized thud of bodies sitting down echoed across the vast Bayannur grasslands.

"As expected of our own troops. The discipline is impeccable!" After so many days of filming, Wu Xiang saw that this ten-thousand-man unit remained in perfect order. In morale, in appearance, in discipline, they were no less formidable than the finest warriors of old.

"Greetings, comrades!"

"Greetings, sir!!"

"You've worked hard, comrades!"

"Serve the people!!"

Division Commander Zhang said a few opening words, then handed the microphone over to Wu Xiang.

"Greetings, comrades!" This time there was no mention of any commanding officer. "I am Wu Xiang, the director of this film. First, I want to thank all of you. It is an immense honor to work with you all on this movie. I truly feel privileged to have the chance, in my lifetime, to make such a grand production with you. This film tells the story of events more than two thousand years ago. In those days, we defeated invaders from the north and defended our homeland..."

Wu Xiang began by explaining what this film was, and why they were all gathered here. If he did not say these things, it would be far too harsh on the soldiers.

The troops across the field remained sitting straight-backed and still. They were excellent listeners, and Wu Xiang went on: "The reason I am saying all this is to help everyone understand the work we are engaged in now. My film is meant to make the people of the whole country understand that our nation, our people, have never bowed to any invasion or humiliation, and that we will always fight the invaders to the very end!"

There were also other reasons Wu Xiang did not mention, because they had nothing to do with the scene these soldiers were about to shoot.

"The next shot will be dangerous, and that is why I am saying this. Because I want to capture the kind of image we need, that fearless look, that sense of being ready to die without hesitation!"

Yes, that was the reason. For that expression alone, Wu Xiang had said so much. Today they were filming the final shot, and also the most dangerous one: cavalry charging straight into each other.

It would be a direct collision between the Han cavalry and the Xiongnu horsemen, with no compromise whatsoever, a genuine, live-action impact.

If they had computer effects, things would be easy. But Wu Xiang had none of that. So they had to do it for real. And real filming came with a problem: when the two sides truly met, fear would be impossible to avoid.

But Wu Xiang did not want that fear on camera. What he wanted to show was not the brutality of war, but the spirit of pressing forward for nation and country. He wanted to film courage.

"Can you complete the mission?" Division Commander Zhang asked, much more bluntly.

"Yes!" the soldiers answered just as simply.

Then let it begin. The ten thousand men were divided into two parts: five thousand against five thousand, all cavalry. This scene would depict Wei Qing charging down from the hillside and smashing into the Xiongnu cavalry formation.

In terms of numbers, there were fewer men than in earlier scenes, but that did not matter. The main focus was on close shots, and although the helicopter could capture wide aerial views, once the two sides were locked together, no one would be able to tell that there were fewer people.

It would mainly rely on close shots. Of course, when he said close shots, they still would not be truly close. A spectacle of this scale could not be filmed by staring at only a few people.

As for the danger, it was certainly dangerous. This was real filming. Even if the horses were restrained to five kilometers per hour, the impact would still be immense, and people would have a hard time enduring it. Yet now everything had to be shot live. It was almost absurd...

But there was no other way. They had already pursued detail after detail, had polished everything to perfection. If they faked this one shot, it would be like nearly reaching the peak of passion only for the other person to suddenly tell you she had once been a man.

In any case, it would feel something like that. No matter what, this part had to be done well. They had considered many methods, but after several rehearsals, none of them worked. There was no feeling to it, no authenticity.

The crucial battle shots were all in place. Even the Xiongnu cavalry's assault against the Han formation had already been completed. With wide shots, close shots, and a few designed movements, the scene could be finished safely.

But this charge, with cavalry on both sides, was a true charge, not the kind of brief passing run-through they had done before. For this shot, Wu Xiang demanded one thing only: impact. Collision.

It was indeed far too dangerous. There were so many people, and so many horses, especially the horses, which were hard to control.

Filming was fake, yes, but that did not mean it was safe. In a scene like this, injury was the least of it; one careless mistake could even cost a life.

Wu Xiang had actually considered computer effects. For just this one part, less than twenty seconds long, if they negotiated properly, perhaps they could have settled for a million dollars. But that was still a million dollars, and in dollars.

In the end, once Division Commander Zhang heard about it, he immediately said that for such a tiny stretch of time, for those ten-odd seconds, they were going to spend a million? In dollars? The commander had bluntly told Wu Xiang: they would shoot it on location, in real conditions, and they would shoot it well, no matter what.

What the division commander had actually said was, "I don't fucking believe it. With so many tough men here, are we really worse than some little gimmick?"

What else was there to say? Then prepare.

Protective gear was a must. They had already been prepared for that and had been using it all along. The prop spears were the kind of thing that shattered on contact, specially made for this purpose. The goal was effect, but safety came first.

Even so, it was still five thousand against five thousand. If someone was thrown from his horse and, in the chaos, got trampled by the horse behind him, it could easily be fatal.

Wu Xiang truly had no confidence in his heart. The only thing he could do was put the men from the cavalry battalion in the front rank. They were very experienced.

Many of the officers and soldiers in the cavalry battalion summed up their service history like this: one year learning to ride, and then two years filming.

In many earlier scenes, they had been performing difficult stunts, such as falling from horseback.

That was as far as they could go. They could only steel themselves and move forward.

"To your positions! Begin!"

Everything was shot on location. Everyone was to treat it like a real battle charge.

Clatter, clatter... The horses began at a walk and gradually quickened. The pace had already been controlled as slowly as possible, but you could not have them prancing around like ballroom dancers either. Clatter, clatter, clatter... the speed still built up.

After the earlier rehearsals, calculations had set the horses' pace at about fifteen kilometers per hour. It was a relatively safe speed, yet not so slow that it would look obviously sluggish. But these were live riders and live horses. It was not a matter of saying fifteen kilometers per hour and getting exactly fifteen kilometers per hour. There would always be some error, and the danger was still considerable.

Howling, howling... By the time autumn had arrived, the winds over the Bayannur grasslands were growing stronger and stronger, crying out like ghosts in torment.

That had a considerable effect on filming, but it also helped Wu Xiang and everyone else involved. The wind made everything feel faster, so if they moved a little more slowly, it would not be obvious.

A high-speed camera was the only way to make the slow seem fast. The helicopter was already circling overhead, flying toward the blood-red setting sun, or else its shadow would have fallen on the ground.

They were coming.

The two cavalry units of five thousand men each spread across the endless grassland like two great birds unfurling their wings. Boom, boom... The hoofbeats of ten thousand horses struck the earth, producing a deafening roar, as though the entire ground itself were trembling.

If this were a real battle, at this point cavalrymen would certainly be struck down by a swarm of arrows and thrown from their horses. But this was a film. Those shots had already been filmed earlier. As long as they were edited in later, that would be enough. So now no one needed to perform a fall from horseback. All they had to do was focus on the final collision.

"Kill!"

Everyone shouted and roared, spears in hand. The two cavalry forces collided on the grassland like two clenched fists smashing together.

Crack! Bang! ... The spears were fake, breaking on impact, but the sound of shattering wood, the crash of horses colliding, and the thud of soldiers hitting the ground intertwined together. Although the wind was too strong to allow proper recording, the scene still had enough force to shake the heart.

They hit. They tangled. The field was thrown into utter chaos. As arranged, the Xiongnu soldiers were supposed to be driven back. They suffered the most falls, and some were shoved far away by the warhorses themselves.

"Ah!"

"Aah!"

Many people cried out. That was only natural after such an impact. If they had not cried out, that would have been ridiculous.

But they still had to hold on a little longer, at least long enough for the cavalry to charge on for a short stretch.

Hooves, clattering... cries, shouts... all kinds of sounds echoed around Wu Xiang's ears, but all he could do was watch until it reached the effect he wanted. Otherwise, everything they had done before would be wasted.

"Cut!"

At last Wu Xiang shouted the command. He was extremely satisfied. He had not seen a trace of fear in any of the soldiers' eyes, not even among the Xiongnu riders.

"All right! That's it! We did it!" Wu Xiang saw that the horses could not stop at once, so the loudspeaker was already turned up to full power.

Finally, after some time, the chaotic scene came to an end. What had made it work in the end was still the discipline that had long since become part of the soldiers' bones.

"Woohoo!"

"Hahaha!" ...

As if they had just won a battle, officers and soldiers alike burst into heartfelt cheers. At a time like this, discipline could wait a moment.

In the final tally, more than three hundred and seventy horses were injured. Twenty of them were seriously hurt and could no longer stand, while three died outright. As for the personnel, the results were excellent: only forty-three men suffered minor injuries, and the kind of small scrapes and bruises that did not even count as real injuries were far too many to keep track of.

It seemed people were still a bit more flexible, a bit smarter. Everyone had tacit understanding not to aim for the face, and with protective gear on and weapons made of props, nothing serious had happened in the end.

In truth, this scene only needed one collision, but it had to be a hard collision. The collision itself could not last long, at most only ten or so seconds; any longer and it would not shock the audience.

There was no denying that Wu Xiang had borrowed a little from The Lord of the Rings in terms of battle staging, but they had used computer effects, while he was filming everything for real. They had high technology; he had earthbound methods.

And Wu Xiang understood very clearly that, as technology advanced, opportunities to film massive battle scenes with tens of thousands of people would become harder and harder to come by. In that sense, he was truly fortunate.