Chapter 26

Since it was Xu Xinyue they were flaming, Ji Shuangyu naturally paid them even less mind.

Only Xu Xinyue was crying and shouting that he would make these people pay—'After the play is staged, you all better come and apologize to me!'

Not much time was left before the premiere. Ji Shuangyu was still in the midst of intense rehearsals, with many things to worry about. It was a good thing he had taken on a few apprentices, and skilled ones at that. For things like set painting, once he taught them the technique and got them started, he could let them finish the rest.

In Ji Shuangyu's eyes, the students of the Spring Thunder Drama Club were only marginally better than complete amateurs!

Perhaps even some among them thought that anyone could perform in a new play, that it was just a matter of reciting lines. And that was true to an extent; many student drama clubs nowadays might not even have a proper script, with the actors piecing together their own lines.

Having taken the investor's money, Ji Shuangyu made sure to show these Spring Thunder Drama Club students what a professional director was.

He had his own comprehensive vision and methodically coached these student actors.

Let alone them being just amateur newcomers to the stage, the entire form of spoken drama was a brand-new art in Huaxia. It had yet to form its own system of artistic theory, nor had it had the chance to emulate foreign systems.

Ji Shuangyu, armed with complete ideas from the future, intervened powerfully. The club members were like sponges, crazily absorbing knowledge. For them, filled with overflowing passion, this was what they craved most.

“...Don't think of yourselves as the playwright's tools. Create. Every actor needs to re-create the script.”

“The reason I create these realistic, three-dimensional sets and props is not just to draw the audience into the story and enhance its realism, but also to allow the actors to enrich their characters. The use of props is a measure of a director's and an actor's maturity...”

“Some people might think that spoken drama is easy to perform because there's no singing and no stylized movements. Quite the opposite, its demands on an actor are even higher than those of traditional opera!”

“Furthermore, don't completely reject our traditional opera system. Drawing strength from this native soil is the only way to forge the unique style of Huaxia spoken drama. In opera, the four skills and five methods—is there not something there you can draw upon for your physical performance? How can you integrate it? Being here at the Changle Theater now, having the chance to interact with old opera actors, is an excellent opportunity for you. I hope to one day see you apply some of what you've learned on stage.”

“Lin Xunfang, what isn't written in the script, you must act out. While howling and beating the other person, she is also someone who has been exposed and stung. After a once very conceited and arrogant person is completely shattered, her performance can be much more layered.”

“Mr. Yu, here, silence should not be complete stillness. Your physical movements must replace language.”

“...”

Besides instilling a theoretical framework, Ji Shuangyu also knew they couldn't digest it all at once. Therefore, he provided numerous detailed demonstrations, which was the only way to produce a decent play in such a short time.

Huaxia spoken drama had gone through stages from having nothing, to completely imitating the Western system, and then to rebuilding by absorbing local culture. For the members of the Spring Thunder Drama Club, who were still in the initial stage, every point Ji Shuangyu made prompted them to think nonstop, allowing them to touch a whole new world.

The words Ji Shuangyu had said when he was "job hunting" had already made them willingly accept him as their director. After all this, they were utterly prostrate in admiration...

And after seeing the props and sets, they had only one thought: Director Ji was on a killing spree.

Script, theory, acting, stage design... While we were all still exploring through practice, Director Ji already had a well-established system!

Even if he didn't know how to do set design, just getting his guidance for a few days was worth far more than the few hundred dollars in salary, let alone with this level of set design. Among the students of the Spring Thunder Drama Club, some came from wealthy families, and some were exceptionally good students. They had read about foreign plays and articles but had never heard of some of these methods.

After the rehearsals, these students had only one thought: Eight hundred dollars was really, really, really a huge loss.

Not a loss for them, but a loss for Director Ji!

“Director Ji, everyone says you exclusively favor the Huaxia Xieyi Style, but from what I've seen, your understanding of the word 'realism' and of Western realist art is in no way inferior to any scholar's. Outsiders' understanding of you is far from sufficient.”

Yu Jianqing said in admiration, “And just as you said, all of this must ultimately be localized for Huaxia, and more importantly, must adhere to its essence—spoken drama.”

What they wanted to create was Huaxia spoken drama, not Western spoken drama, but also not another form of Huaxia opera!

Ji Shuangyu: “Right, right. So, for the sake of the essence of our spoken drama, could you buy me four new spotlights?”

Yu Jianqing was still in his lyrical mood and hadn't come back to his senses: “Huh?”

Ji Shuangyu gestured: “The lights. I think we don't have enough. Can you believe some of the original ones don't even have lenses?”

Yu Jianqing: “I believe you, I believe you!”

He could tell that Xu Yugou was very stingy!

Both of them felt the other was a freak.

Discussing purchases with Yu Jianqing was so much simpler than with Xu Xinyue.

Although Xu Xinyue had already been tormented into submission by Ji Shuangyu, he was still not as straightforward as Yu Jianqing. Not only was he completely won over and felt that hiring Ji Shuangyu was a bargain, but he was also generous with money to begin with.

The moment Ji Shuangyu mentioned it was for the stage effect, Yu Jianqing immediately agreed: “Buy it! As long as the effect is good, buy it!”

Ji Shuangyu was overjoyed.

'This investor is great, so easy to fool!'

When the newly bought equipment arrived, Xu Xinyue saw it and immediately let out a strange sound: “If you people keep this up, you'll make Ji Henian more and more outrageous! You bought him spotlights, does that mean I'll have to buy him downlights in the future...”

Yu Jianqing frowned and said, “You want to buy downlights? Then we'll buy Director Ji a new dimmer.”

Xu Xinyue: “...”

Xu Xinyue: 'Is this person sick in the head???'

Ji Shuangyu revealed a mysterious smile at the side.

'Nice, let the arms race begin! Investors!!'

'To win me over, compete to see who can buy more props for me! Let the competition begin, hahahahahahaha!!'

“...” Xu Xinyue looked at him strangely. “Why are you laughing like that?”

Only then did Ji Shuangyu realize he had laughed out loud. He waved his hand, “It's nothing, nothing.”

'...Sorry, reverse psychology is just too satisfying.'

......

Kunlun Bookstore, the editorial department of New World.

As one of the best-selling publications under Kunlun Bookstore, the general interest magazine New World, whose main readership was the citizens of Jingcheng, had a major feature: introducing its readers to all sorts of fun places and trendy entertainment in Jingcheng.

For example, the largest amusement park in Jingcheng had paid to buy several pages of coverage from them when it first opened.

Now, the editorial department was holding a topic meeting to discuss what content could go into the next issue, with reporters presenting their own stories for discussion.

The office door was pulled open, and the general manager of Kunlun Bookstore strode in. Without a word, he picked up their list of topics and began to read it.

Everyone was startled. What was the meaning of this? A sudden inspection?

The editor-in-chief wiped his sweat. Seeing the general manager's expression darken the further he read, he began to sweat even more. “General Manager...”

Zhou Siyin glanced at him and said coldly, “This weekend, the Changle Theater is staging the student spoken drama Peerless Beauty. It’s a good place for citizens' recreation. Why is there no coverage?”

Editor-in-Chief: “...”

He breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, Mr. Ji had been collaborating with the bookstore recently, and this play was directed by him. It seemed the general manager was doing this to give their collaborator face.

He knew about this play, as Ji Shuangyu was currently in the limelight. However, most people were not optimistic about it, and even his admirers felt Ji Shuangyu had only lent his name to the project, so he had hesitated on whether to feature it.

But since Zhou Siyin had spoken, it definitely had to be featured.

The editor-in-chief said with a straight face, “You've misunderstood. This was already a settled topic, so we didn't bring it up for discussion. I've even sent our best reporter, Qi Haoran, to watch the first performance and write a follow-up report. Haoran, have you bought the ticket yet? Bring it back for reimbursement.”

Qi Haoran: “............”

Zhou Siyin nodded, seemingly satisfied. As he was about to leave, the editor-in-chief saw him to the door, then put on a smile and tattled, “General Manager, I actually saw that the Theater World next door published some reader letters that weren't very favorable towards the Changle Theater, all criticizing that Xu Yugou fellow for this and that...”

He recounted the gist of it and asked, “Do you think we should have them retract it?”

Zhou Siyin: “Oh, don’t bother.”

Editor-in-Chief: “Yes, yes. Xu Xinyue really has nothing to do with us.”

......

And so, reporter Qi Haoran transformed into the dedicated reporter for Peerless Beauty...

He felt truly wronged!

He usually enjoyed watching modern new plays, so for him, both traditional old opera and student spoken drama were not to his taste. Yet this time, he was suddenly assigned to watch Peerless Beauty, and even had to buy a ticket himself at the last minute, waking up at the crack of dawn to see this so-called spoken drama.

—Even though negative opinions were prevalent, due to the fame involved, the tickets for the first two shows were still sold out. This was the power of a fanbase.

Early in the morning, Qi Haoran arrived at the Changle Theater, yawning as he queued up to enter.

Luckily, the ticket was reimbursable. Qi Haoran had paid extra for a scalped ticket. From his observations as he entered, a considerable number of people in the audience were Ji Shuangyu’s fans, attracted by his looks...

There were also female patrons who thought Director Ji might design some more beautiful clothes, or people who were simply looking for a familiar theater to drink tea and pass the time.

There were even a few peers mixed in who wanted to witness Ji Shuangyu ruin his own reputation and fall from grace with their own eyes. They didn't dare to criticize Ji Shuangyu directly in the papers, but criticizing him privately, and even buying a ticket to gloat, was a must.

Qi Haoran even spotted Shu Wangyan in the queue. As an employee of Kunlun Bookstore, he had met Shu Wangyan before, and had even been borrowed by Shu Wangyan’s editor to act as a thug... ah, no, an assistant, to corner Shu Wangyan.

It wasn't surprising, come to think of it. Shu Wangyan had cheered on Ji Shuangyu's plays twice before. He was probably here to show support and give him face.

Alas, it's good to be famous. Even if the play wasn't well-regarded, there was still a basic audience base to come and support it.

Qi Haoran even went up to greet him: “Mr. Wangyan, you're here to see the play too?”

“Oh, oh, Xiao Qi.” Shu Wangyan said with a pained smile, “I'm here to support a friend, and also to rush a manuscript. The deadline is approaching.”

He wasn't very interested in the students' new play either. As a public figure, he was often invited to watch rehearsals. It wasn't him being picky, but leaving everything else aside, those students truly lived up to their amateur status—their acting was just terrible!

This time, he was here to support Ji Shuangyu. With the deadline looming, maybe he could squeeze out a few hundred words during the show?

Qi Haoran did a quick calculation in his head and decided not to tell Shu Wangyan that the deadlines his editors gave him were all fake... Who would be crazy enough to tell Shu Wangyan the real deadline! Wouldn't he then know the latest possible time he could procrastinate until!

This was called give-and-take.

Qi Haoran bid farewell to Shu Wangyan. Their seats were several rows apart; Shu Wangyan had bought his early and was in the front.

Upon entering the theater, the stage curtain was drawn tightly shut.

In a daze, Qi Haoran recalled the new play he had seen at the Spring Stage last week. That play imitated movies, and its set was also very realistic.

It was said they had specially hired an outstanding oil painter. On the hard pieces of three-ply board, every pillar and house was painted with distinct light and shadow, making it incredibly three-dimensional and detailed down to the finest hair. With every new scene, the audience would always spend a few minutes carefully admiring the backdrop, marveling at how vastly different the styles of Western and Huaxia painting were.

The actors were also extremely skilled at comedic antics. Although sometimes the gags were a bit disconnected from the characters' personalities, watching the play, laughing several times, and relaxing one's mind was truly a nice pastime.

Thinking back to the Spring Thunder Drama Club... Qi Haoran felt like sighing. He supported the ideals of progressive youth, but he really didn't want to listen to a lecture and watch dry acting on a weekend.

One could only say it was unfortunate that Ji Shuangyu was directing, but also fortunate that it was Ji Shuangyu directing.

He hoped that Ji Shuangyu, as a commercially successful director of traditional opera, even if the set design was poor, would at least have taught those students how to create gags and add melodrama.

Qi Haoran took his seat. At the same table were three unfamiliar ladies, all clearly there for Ji Shuangyu. He consciously pulled in his legs and didn't dare to let his eyes wander, staring only at the stage. In this era, it was still rare for men and women to sit at the same table to watch a play, except for new plays and movies.

The time for the performance arrived, and the lights in the audience gradually dimmed.

The curtain slowly drew open. Qi Haoran’s previously dull and reserved eyes widened progressively; mixed in the audience, the peers who had been prepared to lead the jeering were also dumbfounded—

It wasn't a flat backdrop, but a three-dimensional, realistic space.

What appeared before the viewers' eyes was a cross-section of a two-story building connected by a staircase. Details like the rough brick walls, light switches, and windows were all rendered with minute precision, looking so real that one could almost imagine the coarse texture of the bricks under one's touch.

The doors and windows were by no means painted on a backdrop like on an ordinary stage, where the entire wall would move when an actor "closed a door." Instead, they were individually and realistically constructed. The windows were even inlaid with large panes of glass.

Adding to that the furnishings in the downstairs living room—an exquisite Suzhou clock, heavy-bottomed cups on a red sandalwood table and chairs, a pot-bellied bronze censer—the carefully selected props were not complex, yet they already sketched out the interior of a wealthy family home that blended Chinese and Western styles.

And everything was so realistic that it made one think the set designer had moved items from a truly wealthy household onto the stage.

Above was a cyclorama, painted with a roof in profound perspective, further extending the depth of the set and making the limited stage space invisibly wider and more layered.

The light shining in from "outside the window" was even made of dappled spots, like sunlight at dusk filtering through tree branches, silently indicating the current time and season.

And at this moment, the sound of a pigeon whistle also conveyed the story's location: Jingcheng, where the practice of raising pigeons was prevalent.

These were all details that had never been paid attention to in previous new play productions. This was a holistic, mature performance space.

A tall man in a fur coat appeared on the second floor. Everyone's gaze unconsciously focused on him. He casually took off the coat, which was worth at least two thousand silver dollars, and threw it on the floor.

Some people were already on the verge of crying out in alarm. How could anyone use such an expensive fur coat for a performance, and treat it so carelessly? The budget for an entire ordinary play was about that much...

Plus the glass windows, the Suzhou clock, the lighting... 'Have I stumbled into a real illusion?!'

The man then sauntered downstairs, looking every bit the fashionable young master of a wealthy family. He arrived at another performance area, sat down nonchalantly on a chair, and called out loudly for a servant: “Yingying—”

The multi-level performance areas, the realistically textured set, the distinct and well-arranged foreground, midground, and background, all under the illumination of the lights, formed a complete, three-dimensional space with profound perspective, realistic details, and an elegant style.

Time and space were all condensed upon the stage. With just one glance, one was already made to completely believe in the reality of this story.

The audience was dumbfounded, almost believing they had personally stepped into someone else's home.

Yet, according to the posters, everything on this stage, from the walls, decorations, and glass windows, to the fur coat and the light and shadows of the branches, were all realistic-style sets and props made in a one-to-one scale.

In just one minute, the definition that the word "realism" had once held in Qi Haoran's mind was instantly overturned.

'...What is realism? This is realism!'