Chapter 88: The Stubborn Jin Xishan

“To truly achieve that is still unrealistic. There are so many martial arts drama crews these days—even if colleagues from the mainland, Hong Kong, and Taiwan joined forces, there would still be a significant gap!” Liu Qingshan spoke honestly.

“That doesn’t matter. The first step is always the hardest. In fact, my ambition isn’t that great; if we can secure the right to speak for martial artists in Hengdian World Studios, that alone would be a tremendous success!” Uncle Ping’s words were pragmatic. Liu Qingshan had worked here for years, and he knew that domestic martial arts crews only recognized martial artists from Hong Kong.

There was much more the two could have said, but the start-of-filming ceremony was about to begin, and everyone was already standing and heading outside.

Before filming officially begins, a production crew usually chooses an auspicious day to hold a start-of-shooting ceremony. It's done for psychological comfort, to seek good fortune, and to ensure a good omen for the project, hoping for high ratings or a box office hit.

The ceremony is typically held at the filming location, on a carefully chosen auspicious day. The crew holds an incense-offering ritual, with the creative leads and cast presenting incense one by one, and red envelopes are distributed. The cameraman’s camera is covered with a red cloth, and incense burners and fruit are placed on the table.

Many film professionals are deeply attached to this ritual because they have a natural reverence for what they’re about to create. They pray for a smooth shoot, hoping nothing goes wrong during production.

A crew’s work depends on timing, location, and harmony among people. Paying respects to heaven, earth, and the gods at the start of filming is both for good luck and psychological reassurance.

Generally, a filming cycle can be as short as two or three months or as long as a year or two. During this period, the crew faces many uncertainties, especially when shooting dangerous scenes on location—such as tsunamis, mountain floods, fires, explosions, and so on.

All these could endanger the crew’s safety and cause significant financial losses. There are too many uncontrollable factors in outdoor filming, so crews choose an auspicious day, offer incense, and distribute red envelopes for good luck—much like how people wear red during the New Year.

The crew of “The Return of the Condor Heroes” had chosen the plaza outside the hotel for their ceremony. By now, quite a crowd of reporters and fans who had caught wind of the event had gathered.

The incense-offering ceremony has its own rules. Under the host’s chanting, the director goes first, followed by representatives of the main investors.

Ge Daqian had already arrived, but since he also held a government position, it was inappropriate for him to appear openly at such an event.

Next in line were the main actors. For this drama, the leads were naturally Huang Yiming and Liu Xiaofei. Their appearance was greeted with a wave of cheers from the surrounding crowd.

What surprised Liu Qingshan was that he was arranged to go right after Huang and Liu, despite the presence of many other famous figures at the scene.

As he looked around, slightly flustered, he caught an encouraging nod from Director Zhang.

There were others who understood the significance of this arrangement, including several star actors: Kong Lin, who played Huang Rong; Meng Guangmei as Li Mochou; Zhong Zhentao as Gongsun Zhi; Chen Zihan as Guo Fu; and so forth. They all applauded him with warm smiles.

Especially Meng Guangmei and Zhong Zhentao—they were major stars from Hong Kong, with unique celebrity status.

Fortunately, there were others nominated as well—the newly formed action choreography team, including Li Qi, Ma Shengli, and, unexpectedly, Chen Zuming.

While Chen Zuming exaggeratedly rolled his eyes at him, Liu Qingshan was pulled up and led to the incense altar.

After hastily completing the ritual, Liu Qingshan whispered, “How did you sneak in here? Whose idea was this?”

Chen Zuming lowered his voice as well. “Director Zhang, who else? I came with you—does it seem so strange that I was included in the action team?”

Liu Qingshan hadn’t considered this before, but now it made sense. “So you get paid for this too?”

“That’s a strange thing to say—why shouldn’t I get paid? My dad told me yesterday that I must get involved in action choreography, and that you’d have to cover this expense.”

“All right, how much do you think is appropriate?”

“Haha, just kidding! Don’t worry, I know this is your first time leading a team—I wouldn’t add to your burden!”

“No, it’s better to settle these things in advance. What if—”

“Kunal? Hmm, that’s a good idea!”

Kunal’s appearance fee was the responsibility of Treasure Films, and the two had simultaneously thought of this “sitting duck.”

But the pay for an action choreographer wasn’t much at all, so for Treasure Films it was a trivial matter.

Liu Qingshan insisted on paying because he wanted Chen Zuming to experience the meaning of earning through his own abilities—a crucial lesson for someone at a crossroads in life.

Similarly, Chen Zuming’s willingness to accept payment stemmed from the same reason. After all, all his previous roles were thanks to the reputation of his father, Jackie Chan.

While the two of them whispered like conspirators, the entire ceremony came to an end amidst swirling incense smoke.

The abrupt ending was due to the ever-growing crowd—there were quite a few people at the scene who recognized Liu Qingshan. What he didn’t know was that, after a full day and night of online speculation, news of his involvement in “The Return of the Condor Heroes” had already been uncovered.

With all the information coming in, the investors decided to end the ceremony hastily. The scene was becoming more chaotic, but more importantly, the influence of such rituals was becoming harder to manage, and there were already calls for their abolition.

Only then did everyone finally have a chance to settle their luggage. Once most people had entered their rooms, Liu Qingshan gave a few instructions to Yu Yi and Shi Hui, then took his own bag and headed alone toward the entrance of the film city.

He had the task of picking up Kunal and his party, as well as making his way to that small roadside eatery, which, despite its size, bore the resounding name “Door of Joy.”

Kunal and his group, in two vehicles, were already waiting there. Liu Qingshan greeted the three others with palms pressed together.

They had already met on the flight from India. Although they hadn’t spoken face to face, there was little sense of unfamiliarity.

The three were named Samir, Anubis, and Ram, all native Indians, each as tall and powerfully built as Kunal.

“Haha, with you guys following me, it looks like I have my own private bodyguards! It seems Bollywood really values appearances. Are all your stuntmen built like this?”

“To be Mr. Liu’s bodyguards would be our honor!” Anubis replied, even more imposing than Kunal, standing well over 1.9 meters tall.

“Master, Bollywood does put a premium on appearance. For stuntmen, not only is height required, but also handsome looks, since they have to perform in musical numbers. Dance training and vocal ability are also strictly required!”

Liu Qingshan couldn’t help but click his tongue in surprise. “But aren’t there villains among the stunt team? How do they handle the look for those roles?”

Samir laughed. “The three of us were specially selected, so the standards for appearance are stricter. In fact, Bollywood also has many specialty actors among the stunt teams, from all over the world—two-meter-tall giants, and even dwarfs who are just 1.2 meters tall.”