Chapter 98 - "The Poor Is Frozen To Death On An Empty Stomach"
Yuan Ge went to collect his car from the car park under South Luogu Lane, where he usually parked it. Living in the heart of the old town while filming, it was really inconvenient to drive; but today the crew finished their last day of work and Yuan Ge felt it was time to go back his home in Moonlight Valley to live for a while.
As the car passed the entrance to the Rong Mansion, he couldn't help but stop. Although someone was in charge of clearing the set after today's shoot, Yuan Ge was still a little uneasy. Now that he was the only member of the crew left in Beijing, he felt the need to do one last check before going back home. Besides, even though Amélie had done most of the drinking for him tonight, he had to allow enough time before driving just to be on the safe side.
Walking into the empty and silent Rong Mansion in the stillness of the night, Yuan Ge inspected each of the venues rented by the crew in turn. He saw that Du Jinghai and his team had packed up all the equipment and moved it back to the warehouse before dinner. Everything had been meticulously organised and he could not help but praise Old Dude in his heart. The prop room and dressing room were also packed up and looked quite empty. As for the lighting technicians and assistants, they were all temporary contractors. After getting paid, they all stopped working, eager to catch the various transports tomorrow morning and head back to their respective homes for the New Year - the imperial capital had always been the place where people's dreams began, but it would never be their hometown.
After checking around, he finally returned to the crew office, which was the only place that had not been emptied. After thinking about it, he decided to move all the things here back to Moonlight Valley for the time being. It was a hassle, but it would give him more peace of mind during the holidays - Yuan Ge knew he had OCD, which was not kind to his profession as a director. He felt compelled to worry about everything and couldn't tolerate any imperfections.
Picking up the master copy of Qingqing from his desk, which was handwritten and had been revised and edited many times by him, Yuan Ge sighed and silently put it into his backpack. Although rationally he understood what the olive branch extended by King Guan Entertainment meant to Dragon Dreams and himself, it was the fruit of his labour after all. Once they got on King Guan's bandwagon, they might travel further down the road of commercialisation, and it would be hard to say when he would be able to go back to make Qingqing again - on this point, Yuan Ge admitted to having selfish motives. His position was different from that of Chow Mingrun, Du Jinghai, Amélie Jiang and the other young actors. They probably believed that Dragon's Dream had to develop quickly and get a firm foothold in the industry as soon as possible. As for himself, he had come all this way, choosing to be a director rather than an actor because he wanted to create a work of art, the kind that belonged to the soul, free from worldly interference and true to his conscience.
A true artist often relies on this determination, on the obsession to squeeze himself to the limit, to explode with an energy in order to reach the top in a short time, to create art, to create immortal works. Lately, in his dreams and outside of them, he had been full of inspiration for the creation of Qingqing. If he could not strike while the iron was hot and let go of his inspiration for six months or a year, would the film he produced at a later time have tasted as good as it would be today?
With his thoughts running wild, he hauled the cleared junk to the rubbish collection area at the back door, but unexpectedly saw a ragged figure collapsed next to a bin. Yuan Ge's heart tightened as he ran a few steps closer and realised that the unconscious man was indeed Rong Qiuchen. He was still wearing the thin, tattered costume from the set, which could no longer be seen its original white colour; a stunningly beautiful face was so dirty that it was unrecognizable, and he was holding a box of leftover lunch from the set, which he had obviously pulled out of the rubbish …
"While meat and wine go to waste behind the vermilion gates of the rich, the poor is frozen to death on an empty stomach by the roadside."[1]
Such a verse drifted into Yuan Ge's mind at an inopportune moment, remembering that so many people from Dragon Dreams had gone to Dong Lai Chang for lamb hot pot tonight, while this poor man was hunkered down here pawing through rubbish to eat.
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[1] This is a famous line by the Chinese poet Du Fu of the Tang Dynasty.