Chapter Eighty-Four: Li Bingbing, the Desperate Warrior

This voice was pleasant, though not gentle; in fact, Wu Xiang detected a hint of measured confidence within it. Yet, when Wu Xiang caught sight of the woman speaking, he felt an uncanny sense of familiarity. Exceptionally familiar, though for a moment he could not recall where he might have seen her before.

"Are you Director Wu Xiang?" She seemed a little unsettled by his scrutiny.

"My apologies." Realizing his lapse in manners, Wu Xiang hurried to cover up his discomfort.

The woman wasted no time, going straight to the point: "I saw you're recruiting actors. I have a résumé here—would you take a look?" She handed him a file, making Wu Xiang feel as if he were at a campus recruitment fair, himself the employer.

"Alright, let me see..." Wu Xiang had barely glanced at it before understanding why she seemed so familiar to him.

The résumé belonged to someone named Li Bingbing.

Li Bingbing! As someone who had been reincarnated, how could Wu Xiang not know the name of the formidable Li? In the future, she would become a top-tier star in the domestic entertainment industry, eventually stepping onto the international stage and gaining worldwide fame.

But Wu Xiang also knew that, at this moment, Li Bingbing was still struggling in obscurity. And the woman before him—if he was not mistaken—was Li Bingbing's younger sister, Li Xue'er.

These sisters were famous in the entertainment world—not only for their beauty but also for their striking resemblance to each other, and their relentless drive. Relentless to the point where, as the résumé showed, Li Bingbing had filmed four television series in 1998 alone, including the grand production "The Palace of Daming," though none were leading roles. Still, four series and two movies in a single year. In 1999, she continued without pause, filming "Home for the New Year" during the holiday, followed by "Young Bao Qingtian," "Clever Little Not Understood," "One Kick to Rule the River"...

Impressive! Tireless!

Wu Xiang needed no résumé to know that, in his television days, Li Bingbing was a legend—a renowned model of hard work.

He felt a slight shame; if only his own work ethic matched even half of hers, how much more could he have earned!

"Is your sister in the capital now?" Wu Xiang glanced over the résumé—there was no need to study Li Bingbing's credentials.

"No, she's filming in Hengdian," Li Xue'er replied simply.

"Alright, tell your sister to wait in Hengdian. We'll head there soon," Wu Xiang said, essentially accepting her. How could he not?

"And how much are you offering?" Li Xue'er was blunt; she moved straight to negotiation.

"Five thousand, with meals and lodging included." Wu Xiang was well-versed in bargaining.

Li Xue'er clearly wasn’t satisfied.

"It's not a long role, not a lead, but it isn’t minor either. You can consider it," Wu Xiang added, ever the opportunist.

"Deal!" Li Xue'er had come to test the waters, but landing a job for her sister—especially with a well-known director—was a stroke of luck.

At this time, Li Bingbing had no fame whatsoever. She took roles furiously, but none had been released yet. The earliest, "Home for the New Year," directed by Zhang Yuan, was a realistic film due for release in May, and Li Bingbing would soon win awards for it—but at this moment, no one knew.

Thanks to this timing, Wu Xiang landed a tremendous bargain. He was elated—this was Li Bingbing, the famed Li! And he had secured her for just five thousand yuan. Ha!

Happy as he was, Wu Xiang did not forget that Li Xue'er herself was no ordinary figure.

Anyone who had spent time in the entertainment circle would know her. Perhaps she wasn’t as formidable as Sister Hua, but still, she was a force to be reckoned with. Among agents, Li Xue'er had many talented protégés.

Indeed, though she entered the field a bit later, Li Xue'er could be counted among the country's first generation of professional star managers. Would Wu Xiang let someone like her slip away?

"Um, Miss Li..." Wu Xiang pondered how to address her; at that time, the term "Miss" was still without negative connotation. Just then—

"What’s going on? Why did you offer her five thousand, and only fifteen hundred to me? That’s unfair!" Wu Xiang had forgotten about Yao Chen, who immediately protested upon hearing the offer.

"How can it be the same? Her role has lines, and she's an experienced actress—far more than you!" Wu Xiang had plenty of reasons.

"You’re bullying me!" Yao Chen was helpless, but reality was what it was. She understood in her heart. "Wu Xiang! Just wait! When I become famous, you’ll be begging me to act!"

Yao Chen resolved to make Wu Xiang see her in a new light.

"Fine! I’ll wait!" Wu Xiang wouldn’t be outdone.

But Li Xue'er wasn’t waiting. "Alright, it's settled. I’ll be off—see you in Hengdian."

And so, the future top agent left, Wu Xiang’s plan to recruit talent disrupted by Yao Chen.

Still, since he had already connected with Li Bingbing, opportunities would arise in the future. Wu Xiang could only focus on recruiting more actors.

Setting up a stage at the school was only one aspect. Wu Xiang wanted to find more experienced actors, ideally those who had previously acted in "Romance of the Three Kingdoms." Though many weren’t especially handsome—except for Teacher Tang, of course—most had solid command of dialogue, essential for historical drama. The lines needed a semi-classical style; fully classical would be incomprehensible, but too colloquial would feel anachronistic. The demands for dialogue were high, so experienced actors were a must.

This responsibility naturally fell to Teacher Han Sanping. Since he had invested, he could help find more talent.

Wu Xiang envisioned these actors as ministers. In his plan, the ministers weren’t numerous, but their presence was essential.

Still, the ministers weren’t the focus. Wu Xiang’s "Emperor Wu of Han" would not emphasize political intrigue. His insistence on experienced actors was for the sake of detail.

So what was Wu Xiang’s focus? Plainly, the campaign against the Xiongnu!

To put it simply—war. Ancient warfare, grand battles.

Filming battle scenes required many props. Armor could be sourced from Teacher Zhao’s materials. Weapons, however, needed more consideration.

Historical films must respect history. This was the essence Wu Xiang gleaned from his conversations with Teacher Zhao, though he had intended this from the start. So, what did the actual history look like? What were the real weapons?

The Han side was relatively straightforward: swords with ring-shaped hilts, mounted weapons were mostly spears, bows, and crossbows. Infantry also used spears—technically halberds, with a metal head shaped like an inverted L.

This was easier to manage; "Romance of the Three Kingdoms" could provide reference. Bows and crossbows were somewhat troublesome, needing to be fabricated to look authentic, which would complicate the production schedule.

But that was nothing compared to the Xiongnu.

What weapons did the Xiongnu use? Wu Xiang had researched extensively, even consulting the Encyclopedia Britannica.

The answer: the Xiongnu produced little iron, so most of their weapons were stolen—bronze, iron, but rarely. Most were bone weapons; for example, arrowheads were made from bone. They had spears, but these were more like javelins.

This was a fascinating discovery. In countless films and TV series, the Xiongnu wielded curved swords. In truth, this was nonsense; while curved swords paired well with cavalry, the technology was still nearly a thousand years away.

Thus, in terms of equipment, the Han far outclassed the Xiongnu. Historical records even claim one Han soldier could match ten Xiongnu warriors. So why were the Han still harassed by the Xiongnu?

The answer lay in horses.

In ancient times, horses were not mere animals—they were the very embodiment of military power, a force not unlike modern tanks.