Chapter 136: For "Art", Please Bring Your Own Provisions! Announcement 100!

Regarding the ban on the film *Beijing Bicycle*, there are many rumors circulating online. The most prevalent one claims that "the movie was banned because it features too many hutongs, and Beijing needed to project a good image for its Olympic bid."

In reality, that is not the case at all. The film was banned simply because of procedural issues—it was sent to film festivals without going through the official censorship review process. It was far from the only film to suffer this fate because of such violations.

Besides, that rumor makes no sense at all. If the ban was truly for the sake of the Olympic bid and image management, why was it allowed to be publicly screened abroad? Was that image meant for the Olympic bid? No, that was clearly meant for foreigners to see. What good does a domestic ban do?

One must realize that a portion of the investment in this film came from the Beijing Film Studio. If the authorities had been dead set on protecting their image, would the film have ever been allowed to leave the country?

Wu Xiang had researched this film. At first, he was duped by many unscrupulous film critics who praised how wonderful and deeply symbolic the movie was. But when he finally watched it himself, it left him utterly exasperated!

Setting aside the glaring logical loopholes, the film simply fills the viewer with a sense of stifling oppression. There are hardly any normal characters in the movie, and it stubbornly insists on painting bad deeds as good, framing them as a sign of "personality." Take the protagonist who buys stolen property: when he is caught stealing money from his own father, he turns around and lectures his father instead. Is that even human behavior?

That is nothing short of a scoundrel!

Your family is in such dire straits, yet you still insist on having a bicycle. What kind of bicycle do you think you need?!

There are simply too many points to吐槽, and the film was easily exploited by foreign media hostile forces who were just waiting to make a mockery of you.

Wasn't Beijing bidding for the Olympics? Look, they would say, this is your Beijing! No matter what happens—bike theft, street fights—no matter how serious the incident, there is not a single policeman in sight. Your public security is truly wonderful!

Who would dare to attend the Olympics under such circumstances? Would you dare with security like this?

Therefore, this was never a matter of there being too many hutongs. Rather, outsiders realized that this film smeared the city so brilliantly that they desperately needed such a weapon to disgust you, and it arrived right on time!

The Berlin International Film Festival took place in February, followed by European screenings, while the Olympic host city vote was held in July. Could they have possibly found a better weapon than this movie?

And what was the purpose of that Silver Bear award? It was simply meant to give the film a market presence and drum up promotional momentum.

Unfortunately, apart from becoming a laughingstock at the festival, the film failed to achieve any significant box office performance.

Ultimately, to forge iron, one must be strong oneself. No matter how much they tried to smear the city, Beijing successfully won the Olympic bid after all.

The film's director, Wang Xiaoshuai, undoubtedly possesses a certain degree of talent, but unfortunately, he remains hopelessly misguided.

Wu Xiang knew very well that his subsequent films would continue along the exact same path. His stories always leave you depressed—deeply, thoroughly depressed—and whenever he visits a city, he digs up its ugliest corners, films them, and puts them on display for everyone to see. That, apparently, is art—true art through and through.

Of course it is art! Foreign film critics rave about it, and all sorts of grand awards follow; make one film, and you win them all.

However, what Wu Xiang knew even better was that his later films performed increasingly worse at the box office, flopping one after another to the point where he was practically selling his trousers to stay afloat. Eventually, investors stopped coming to him, and he had to mortgage his own house just to make a movie.

To be frank, awesome! Truly awesome!

This is precisely why Wang Xiaoshuai became a sacrifice. The films you make tell stories about your own country, yet domestic audiences find them unappealing and refuse to pay for your work. However, foreign film critics praise your pictures and shower you with major awards, so in their eyes, there is nothing wrong with the films.

And Director Wang genuinely believes there is nothing wrong, because he keeps winning awards—as long as a new movie comes out, a major award follows.

Yet those major awards come with no money. Besides, what do foreigners actually know about what life is truly like inside the country?

Many renowned film critics and prominent media talking heads spend their entire days pontificating about how Chinese society is this way or that way, even though many of them have never set foot in our country in their lives. Yet they talk endlessly about how this is bad and that is no good, claiming you lack this right and that freedom. But if you try to refute them by pointing out that they have never even visited, and asking how they could possibly know, they will retort, "With your country being so awful, why would I ever want to go?"

Well, their mindset is genuinely difficult for us to understand. This can simply be considered a cultural difference between the East and the West.

However, when faced with the choice between prestigious awards and hard cash, Director Wang Xiaoshuai chose the awards.

I am an artist! I must maintain my artistic demeanor! How can I bow my head and bend my waist in service to the powerful and wealthy, denying myself a joyful expression!

Isn't that impressive? This is true martyrdom for the sake of art, a display of lofty integrity!

He may have kept his joyful expression, but what he truly disgusted was the domestic audience. On this artistic path of his, he just kept sinking deeper into the darkness...

This film also featured funding from Taiwan, specifically from that well-known film critic and investor named Jiao Xiongping. She was quite something; there would be many more investments from her camp later on. She had a strict policy: "I don't fund wholesome stories; the more repulsive the subject matter, the better." One has to say that Taiwan certainly has a habitual urge to smear the mainland. Fortunately, they eventually filmed themselves dry. Indeed, foreign countries will give you awards—handing out accolades of all sorts without stinginess—but they do not give you money.

Look how wonderful this is! People are providing you with weapons for free, and these are weapons made by your own fellow Chinese people. What can you possibly say to that?

These days, even when it comes to smearing China, people still have to bring their own dry rations!

Regarding such matters, Wu Xiang's attitude was simple: go ahead and smear us however the hell you please. One day, you will realize that no matter how hard you try to smear, you can no longer cause any damage, and you will have merely turned yourselves into clowns.

He had secured Yuan Yuan, and at a quite reasonable price at that. Combined with Yan Ni portraying Xiuqin, Hai Qing portraying Feng Nan, and Wu Xiang planning to have Li Bingbing make a cameo appearance, the major female roles for *Drawing Sword* were all locked down.

The male cast members were even easier to settle. Teacher Zhang Guangbei and Teacher Li Youbin readily agreed without hesitation. These two actors were the absolute soul of the drama; as long as they were on board, the rest was basically set. While the remaining roles were minor, Wu Xiang still paid close attention to them—for instance, Sun Desheng, the commander of the cavalry company. Though his screen time was minimal, his performance was brilliant. Wu Xiang knew very well that this role was played by Jiang Shui, who would later become quite famous.

Jiang Shui was easy to handle, but at this particular point in time, finding certain other people proved to be quite a chore. For instance, "Reverend Wei" Zhang Tong seemed impossible to locate, and as for various extras, nobody even knew where they were. It was not an easy task.

They would just have to search slowly...

Meanwhile, various other preparations were underway. This was an anti-Japanese war drama, meaning a vast amount of preparation was still required.

Props, for example, were extremely vital. Domestically produced anti-Japanese dramas were notorious for inaccurate weapons—rife with anachronisms and bizarre errors, like fighting the Japanese invaders with Type 56 rifles or even having Type 38 rifles fire continuously. Therefore, strict quality control had to be enforced in this department.

To avoid turning the project into a ridiculous anti-Japanese farce, Wu Xiang dispatched his capable generals—Wang Hongji and other veterans from the old Unit 307. Since they had previously run that prop company, this time the props would naturally have to be handled by them once again.

However, this prop company was a leftover asset from *Emperor Wu of Han*, and it possessed no firearms or ammunition. Consequently, the props had to be built completely from scratch.

Fortunately, there were still numerous factories in Yiwu, making manufacturing relatively easy. Even uniforms—both the Eighth Route Army and Nationalist military uniforms—were successfully produced.

All of this required money, but when it came to financial matters, Wang Hongji was now a big shot. He told Wu Xiang that he didn't need to shell out any cash; their prop company would cover the costs, and Wu Xiang could simply pay them according to a standard rental contract.

What did this indicate? It showed that the prop company's business was doing quite well. Indeed, located in Hengdian, how could their business possibly be bad? Besides, they were entirely engaged in historical costume rentals.

Their very first major transaction went smoothly. Wu Xiang rented his batch of costumes, crossbows, broadswords, spears, and shields not to outsiders, but directly to Director Zhang Yimou's crew for the film *Hero*.

When he received this news, Wu Xiang was right in the middle of editing his own blockbuster, and it filled him with immense joy.

That was so damn clever!

Preparations for the new version of *Drawing Sword* were proceeding in an orderly fashion. Unit 307 had already transformed into an experienced and formidable work team. Moreover, since this was a television series, certain aspects were relatively easier to manage than a film.

Nevertheless, Wu Xiang was determined to craft a meticulously polished, high-production-value masterpiece akin to *Band of Brothers*. His goal was to build upon the foundation of the original *Drawing Sword* and elevate the work even further, creating an even greater classic!

"Hey, let me ask you, how on earth did you paint this wall? The color is completely wrong! And how did you lay these floor tiles? The gap sizes are totally unacceptable! Also, this faucet—why hasn't it been installed yet?"

Hai Qing was shouting loudly inside a house under renovation, seemingly determined to let these renovation workers know she was not someone easily fooled.

"Big sister!" Judging by the accent, he was clearly from Hebei. An expert would be able to tell that the young fellow was likely from Xingtai. The young man was short in stature, looking honest and straightforward. "You can't talk to us like that. We installed all of this strictly according to your specifications."

"What do you mean 'according to my specifications'? The way you're executing this construction looks completely wrong to me! Didn't I hire a brand-name renovation company for my house? Why does this still look like a bunch of casual laborers picked up off the street?" Hai Qing was furious about precisely this point. She discovered that renovation companies were full of hot air; during the pitch, they sounded wonderful—talking about design, decoration, and all professionals, yet the actual workers looked like they had just been dragged off the avenue a minute ago.

"Well, that brand-name renovation company is us too. As long as we finish according to the standards, isn't that enough?" The young man was pushed aside by his companion, who was clearly much more articulate.

"Fine! Just you wait and see if it's not up to standard! I won't let you hear the end of it!" Hai Qing's state of mind was actually quite normal; everyone goes through this during home renovations, constantly worrying about flaws, trailing behind the workers every day with a heart full of anxiety.

This apartment was naturally the one Wu Xiang had purchased earlier. The developer turned out to have a bit of a conscience after all; after making Wu Xiang and Hai Qing live in that small courtyard for about four months, the apartment was finally handed over. With the property now in hand, the renovation phase was indispensable. As a woman skilled at managing a household frugally, how could Hai Qing not keep a close eye on the renovations?

She was still busy filming a television series titled *Shuxiang Menpai*, but since the shoot was taking place right in Beijing and her role wasn't overly heavy, she naturally seized every opportunity to come over and check on the progress.

"Xiao Hai, alright now, don't make yourself sick with anger." Seeing that he was about to bid farewell to life in that small courtyard outside the Fifth Ring Road, Wu Xiang would also drop by to take a look whenever he had free time, realizing indeed that his fiancée was far too sensitive about renovation matters.

To be honest, as a man and a director, he truly preferred to steer clear of such domestic chores whenever possible, but failing to drop by and check in wasn't right either.

"Why did you come over? It's enough that I'm keeping an eye on things." Seeing her partner arrive, the fierce expression on Hai Qing's face instantly softened.

"I was just worried you'd overtire yourself with worry." Whenever he had the chance, Wu Xiang would immediately offer a few sweet words.

"You rascal!" Sure enough, sweet words work on everyone.

"Big sister, come take a look and see if this faucet is installed properly!" At that exact moment, the young man from earlier returned.

"Oh! Coming!" Hai Qing inwardly cursed the fellow for having terrible timing, but unexpectedly, Wu Xiang's gaze suddenly shifted.

"Baoqiang?" Wu Xiang stared at the young man standing before him, dressed in a set of dirt-stained work clothes, his face smudged with white and black dust, short in stature, with ordinary facial features and a smile full of wrinkles. It was none other than Wang Baoqiang!

"Big brother! Do you know me? I don't know you yet!" Baoqiang said with a grin, completely unaware that this very moment marked the most crucial turning point of his entire life! (To be continued.)