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Chapter 144

Chapter 144

This scene was meant to simulate enemy bombing of a village, with villagers fleeing and Lin Shen and Wanrong hiding in the cellar of their home.

The cellar was a temporary structure; a shallow pit was dug in Aunt Gui's backyard, and wooden planks were laid on top to disguise it as the cellar entrance.

Before filming, Li Jun specially invited elderly people from the village to provide guidance.

Several elderly people in their eighties and nineties, who experienced the War of Resistance against Japan, recounted the scenes from that time:

The sound of airplanes, the shock of explosions, the smell of smoke and dust, and the fear of having nowhere to escape.

Nicholas Tse and Qin Hailu listened attentively and took notes.

"When hiding in the cellar, you don't wait quietly."

An elderly man surnamed Hu said.

"It's about listening to the sounds outside to judge the distance of the bomb."

When you get close, the whole cellar shakes, and soil falls down in a rustling sound.

Only when we are far away do we dare to speak in a low voice.

"What kind of feeling was that?"

Qin Hailu asked.

"I can't explain it."

The old man shook his head.

"Fear, of course I'm afraid. But when fear reaches its extreme, it becomes numb. I only think about:"

If the bomb doesn't hit me, I can still live. If it does, then I'm doomed.

That simple and authentic storytelling is more powerful than any scripted description.

During the actual filming, Nicholas Tse and Qin Hailu went into the cellar.

The cellar was small, just enough for two people to huddle together. A single oil lamp flickered weakly.

The camera shot downwards from the cellar entrance, revealing only the blurry outlines of the two people.

"Scene 82, Shot 1 of 'Dreams of Mountains and Rivers,' begin!"

The clapperboard clicked.

A simulated explosion could be heard in the distance, the ground shook, and soil fell from the top of the cellar.

The flame of the oil lamp flickered violently.

Nicholas Tse reached out to protect the oil lamp, and Qin Hailu leaned on his shoulder, the two of them close together.

Another "explosion" was heard, even closer now.

The cellar shook violently, and a clod of earth hit Nicholas Tse on the back.

Qin Hailu stiffened for a moment, but didn't say anything, only buried her face in his shoulder.

Nicholas Tse put his arm around her and gently patted her back, as if comforting a child.

But his eyes were empty, staring at the top of the cellar, as if listening, judging, and waiting.

There was a moment of silence.

Then Nicholas Tse said softly, "It's too far."

Qin Hailu looked up, her face covered in dirt, but her eyes were clear: "Still hiding?"

"Let's hide a little longer."

Nicholas Tse said.

"Wait until it gets dark."

The oil lamp flame stabilized, and its dim light illuminated the small space.

The two sat there, leaning against each other, listening to the faint sounds outside—not real sounds, but imagined ones.

There are no lines, but all the emotions are conveyed through subtle movements:

Nicholas Tse took off his coat and draped it over Qin Hailu's shoulders;

Qin Hailu took out half a pancake from her bosom, broke it in half, and handed him half;

The two ate in small bites, drinking the cold water from the kettle.

That kind of mutual support in dire straits is more touching than any vow of eternal love.

"Cut!"

Li Jun called a halt.

This scene was filmed three times, and each time there were subtle differences.

The first time was more nerve-wracking, the second time more numb, and the third time, the last time, brought a strange calm, like the stillness in the eye of a storm.

After filming the cellar scene, we moved on to film street scenes.

We need to film a series of scenes depicting the devastation the village presents to Lin Shen and Wanrong after they emerge from the cellar.

This set of shots has no actors; it's all establishing shots.

Burned houses, ruins, scattered items, dead livestock.

The goal is to capture the desolate feeling of surviving a catastrophe.

Zhao Xiaodong used handheld photography, with the lens slightly shaky, like a human eye.

The color tone is very cool, bluish-gray, with almost no warm colors.

A close-up shot was taken:

There was a charred book on the ground, but the cover was still recognizable; it was the Book of Songs.

The page I turned to read, "When I left, the willows were swaying gently."

"Now I come to think of it, and the rain and snow are falling heavily."

The props were specially made by Master Li and burned just right. The writing was still faintly discernible, but the edges were charred black.

When Li Jun saw this scene, his heart tightened.

Civilization is so fragile.

A book, a fire, and it's all gone.

But the Book of Songs has been passed down for thousands of years and survived countless wars.

Why?

Because there will always be someone who remembers, someone who recounts, and someone who picks up those words from the ashes and copies them onto new paper.

Just like Lin Shen burned the painting, but the landscape in the painting is still in his heart.

As long as he lives, he can paint again.

As long as there are people painting, singing, and making movies, civilization will never truly be extinguished.

By the time we finished shooting this scene, it was already dark.

Everyone returned to their lodgings exhausted after work. But no one complained; they simply packed up their equipment, ate their meals, and washed up in silence.

Li Jun returned to his room, opened his laptop, and read the emails sent by Yuan Tao.

The fundraising is progressing smoothly.

Within the film industry, from renowned directors to up-and-coming actors, many donated money and left messages of blessing. Yuan Tao compiled a long list, followed by the amount of donations and messages.

Li Jun looked at them one by one. He recognized some of the names; he had worked with them before.

Some they had only heard of; others were complete strangers. But at this moment, they were all gathered together because of a fallen veteran filmmaker.

At the end of the email, Yuan Tao said, "Li Jun, this incident has shown me that there is still warmth in this industry. Not everyone only cares about profits; there are still people who value relationships."

Li Jun replied, "Because we are all dreamers. Dreams may be different, but the appreciation for dreams is the same."

He turned off his email and walked to the window.

Outside the window, the village lights were sparse. The distant mountains were only vague outlines in the night, like faint ink spreading on rice paper.

He recalled the footage he had taken during the day:

They depended on each other for survival in the cellar, and the poems were burned on the ruins.

I also thought of Cheng Guoqiang, and the names of those who donated money.

I also thought of Jane Zhang, and what she said on the phone: "Use art to resist time."

Perhaps what we are resisting is not time itself, but the relentless erosion of time.

In the midst of the torrent, a wooden stake was erected, and a mark was carved, saying:

Here, there were such people, such events, and such beauty.

Even if the wooden stakes will eventually be washed away, and the marks will eventually be worn away.

But the moment it was etched was real.

This is enough.

As filming entered its final week, an unexpected visitor arrived on set.

That morning, Li Jun was discussing the details of the final scene with Xie Tingfeng and Qin Hailu when Xiao Chen rushed in, panting, "Director Li, someone is looking for you at the village entrance."

"Who?"

"He's said to be a painter named Lin Mo."

Li Jun was taken aback.

He remembered the painting "Passerby" that he had seen at the BJ Gallery, and thought about asking Yuan Tao to arrange a meeting with the painter, but then he got busy and forgot.

Unexpectedly, the other party came looking for them.

He put down the script and walked to the village entrance.

A young man, in his early thirties, tall and thin, stood on the stone bridge, wearing a simple white shirt and jeans, carrying a painting tube on his back. Seeing Li Jun, he walked over and shyly extended his hand: "Hello, Director Li, I'm Lin Mo. Sorry to bother you."

"do not bother."

Li Jun shook hands with him.

How did you find this place?

"Mr. Yuan Tao gave me the address."

Lin Mo said.

"I was sketching in southern Anhui, which wasn't far away, so I thought I'd come and take a look."

Moreover, I watched "Bodyguards and Assassins" and really liked it.

I heard you're filming a new movie here. I'd like to see how movies are made.

His tone was sincere, and his eyes were clear, unlike the shrewd scrutiny of people in the industry.

"welcome."

Li Jun said.

"However, we are working and may not have time to entertain you."

"No need for hospitality, I'll just watch from the side and won't disturb you."

Lin Mo quickly replied.

"If it's convenient, I can help. I can do anything, like moving things."

Li Jun glanced at the painting tube on his back: "Are you here to sketch or paint? We're filming, you can paint next to us."

Maybe something interesting will come together.

Lin Mo's eyes lit up: "Really?"

"Can."

And so, the crew gained an extra "unofficial member".

Lin Mo is very quiet. Most of the time, he sits in an inconspicuous corner, opens his sketchbook, and sketches with a pencil or charcoal pencil.

He paints the filming set, the actors' resting moments, the landscapes of southern Anhui, and those unintentional moments of life.

Li Jun would occasionally go over and take a look.

Lin Mo's painting style, like his painting "Passerby," is simple yet full of artistic conception.

With just a few strokes, the spirit of the figure was captured;

A few strokes of ink are enough to create the atmosphere of a landscape.

One day during a break from filming, Nicholas Tse came over to take a look.

Lin Mo was sketching what it looked like when he and Qin Hailu were acting together. The two of them sat on a stone bench, looking down at the script. Sunlight shone from the side, casting long shadows on the bluestone slabs.

"It's really well drawn."

Nicholas Tse praised it.

"It captured that state of immersion."

Lin Mo was a little embarrassed: "It's because Teacher Xie and Teacher Qin are both very artistic."

How many years have you been studying painting?

Qin Hailu also came over.

"I started learning from a young age. My grandfather was a well-known folk painter in the area, and my father was also a painter."

Lin Mo said.

"But I took a different path from them. They painted traditional landscapes, while I painted contemporary ink paintings, exploring the fusion of tradition and modernity."

"Just like when Director Li makes movies,"

Nicholas Tse laughed.

"Find contemporary expression within traditional narratives."

As Li Jun listened, an idea suddenly came to his mind.

Lin Mo also came on the day the last scene was filmed.

This scene is the ending of the movie:

After the village fell, Lin Shen and Wanrong were captured and imprisoned in different places.

In the final moments, the two saw each other from afar during the transport. They exchanged no words, only a glance, before being taken away separately.

This means that this may be the last time they see each other in their lives.

The scene is set on a dirt road outside the village.

The art department set up simple roadblocks and barbed wire, and several extras dressed up as enemy soldiers.

Nicholas Tse and Qin Hailu were escorted separately, traveling towards each other from opposite ends of the road.

They need to see each other in the fleeting moment they pass each other.

This scene has no dialogue; it relies entirely on the eyes.

When Li Jun was directing the play, he said very little: "As you all know, this may be the last time we see each other."

But you won't cry out, you won't struggle, you'll just watch.

Let your eyes speak for you:

I am here, I saw it, I remember it, and I have no regrets.

Nicholas Tse and Qin Hailu are auspicious signs.

They've lived in those roles for so long, they know what Lin Shen and Wanrong would do.

"All hands on deck!"

"The final shot of Scene 90 of 'Dreams of Mountains and Rivers,' begin!"

Nicholas Tse was escorted by two "enemy soldiers" as he walked from the east end of the road.

His clothes were tattered, and he had a Buddha-like face, but he stood straight and had a calm gaze.

Qin Hailu came from the west end, also being escorted.

Her hair was disheveled and her clothes were covered in dust, but her steps were steady and her head was slightly raised.

The two drew closer and closer.

The camera shifts between the two:

Nicholas Tse's face, Qin Hailu's face, Nicholas Tse's gaze, Qin Hailu's gaze.

The distance is shortened to ten meters, five meters, three meters —

Finally, they saw each other.

Time seemed to stand still at that moment.

Nicholas Tse's eyes changed; a crack appeared in his usually calm demeanor, revealing the deep-seated pain, longing, and reluctance beneath.

But only for a moment, and then calm returned, even a faint smile appearing on her face, as if to say:

Don't be afraid, I'm here.

Qin Hailu's tears welled up, but she bit her lip to keep them from falling.

She looked at her husband, her eyes conveying a thousand unspoken words:

I understand, I understand everything, I'm not afraid, I'll be fine.

Then they brushed past each other.

Without stopping or looking back, they continued on their separate ways.

The camera followed Nicholas Tse's retreating figure, getting further and further away, until he finally disappeared around the bend in the dirt road.

Then Qin Hailu's figure receded further and further away, disappearing in another direction.

The scene freezes on an empty dirt road. The wind blows, raising dust. Wild grass by the roadside sways in the wind.

In the distance, the mountains stood silent.

"Cut!"

When Li Jun uttered this word, his voice was choked with emotion.

A profound silence fell over the scene. Everyone was immersed in that unspoken, tragic atmosphere.

After a long while, applause broke out.

At first, they were scattered, then they connected into a whole.

It wasn't cheering, but a deep, restrained applause, as if paying tribute to something.

Nicholas Tse and Qin Hailu walked back from their respective directions, both with red eyes.

But they all had a relieved expression on their faces, as if they had finally walked the path that Lin Shen and Wan Rong had walked.

Lin Mo stood in the corner, quickly sketching something. Li Jun walked over to look.

On the drawing paper is that fleeting moment when they just brushed past each other.

Nicholas Tse and Qin Hailu's faces weren't painted; only their backs were visible, on a dirt road, facing opposite directions.

But the sense of farewell was palpable.

In the upper right corner of the painting, Lin Mo inscribed a line of small characters: "We gaze at each other speechlessly, only tears streaming down our faces."

"This painting, "6

Li Jun said.

"Can I have it?"

Lin Mo looked up, somewhat surprised: "Director Li likes it?"

"I like it."

Li Jun said.

"And I want to use it as a movie poster."

Lin Mo was stunned: "Is this...is this appropriate? I'm just an unknown painter."

"There is no distinction between famous and unknown in the art of transformation, only between good and bad."

Li Jun said.

"This painting captures the essence of the film."

That evening, the crew held a simple wrap party.

Several tables were set up in Aunt Gui's courtyard.

It was made by Aunt Gui and several other women from the village; it's a traditional farmhouse.

The wine was bulk rice wine that the village secretary had gotten from the blind; it was mellow and slightly sweet.

When Li Jun raised his glass to give a speech, his voice trembled slightly: "Three months, ninety days, we completed 'Dreams of Mountains and Rivers'."

Thank you to everyone for your hard work: Teacher Xie, Teacher Qin, Master Li, Teacher Zhao, Xiao Chen, and all the staff.

I also want to thank Aunt Gui, the Party Secretary, and all the villagers.

Without you all, this movie wouldn't have been made.

He paused for a moment: "This movie is about perseverance, about memory, about protecting wholeness in a broken world."

The process of sawing this film is itself a practice of this spirit.

Fortunately, I respect movies, I respect transformation, and I respect those who leave their mark on time.

"7

Everyone raised their glasses: "To the movies!"

I drank a lot of alcohol and talked a lot that night.

Nicholas Tse and Qin Hailu hugged every staff member. Master Li got drunk and pulled Zhao Xiaodong to sing Huangmei Opera.

Xiao Chen and several other young people cried together, saying they couldn't bear to part.

Lin Mo sat in the corner, quietly drawing this farewell.

Li Jun didn't drink much, but looking at this official, his heart was full.

The banquet ended in the early hours of the morning.

People returned to their lodgings in twos and threes, and some even fell asleep on their desks.

Li Jun walked alone onto the stone bridge.

The night was cool and still, the sky filled with stars. The village slept, the distant mountains slept.

Three months ago, he came here with a script and a group of strangers. Now, he's leaving with a film and a group of people who are like family.

Time has changed many things, but some things remain the same—such as their dedication to good stories, their love for film, and the light that shines on creation in their eyes.

My phone vibrated; it was Zhang Liangying.

"Is filming wrapped up?" she asked.

Filming has wrapped.

Congratulations. I'll be waiting for you in Chengdu.

"it is good."

Li Jun put away his phone and looked at the starry sky.

The next steps are post-production, publicity and distribution, the global roadshow with "The Messenger", market competition with "Beauty in Troubled Times", and countless unknown challenges.

But at this moment, all he wanted to do was stand here, under the starry sky of southern Anhui, on this stone bridge, and savor the tranquility and fulfillment of this moment.

A rooster crows in the distance; it's almost time to harvest.