Chapter 43#

The Last Interview#

“Perhaps.”

Mo Xuzhi only gave Luo Wenyun a glance before looking away. He stood up, casually tidied his hair which had become a bit messy from leaning against the sofa, and then bypassed the others to go upstairs alone.

The remaining people were quiet for a moment before changing the subject, and the atmosphere became lively again.

Returning to his room, Mo Xuzhi sat in a chair looking at his phone, for a moment not knowing what to do.

He had finished processing the Academy of Sciences’ matters and hadn’t brought his laptop with him; even if he wanted to handle reports or other minor tasks, he couldn’t.

He had thought these last few days would be difficult to endure, but he hadn’t expected them to be this boring.

He moved his chair to the window and watched the sparkling swimming pool outside for a while, until belatedly realizing his eyes were a bit uncomfortable, and only then did he withdraw his gaze.

Taking out a white rectangular pillbox from his coat pocket, Mo Xuzhi habitually wanted to take the pill from the right side. He reached out, only to find the pills had run out at some unknown point.

After thinking for a while, he poured two more of the white pills placed on the right, and without drinking water, swallowed them directly.

The pills stayed in his throat for a while before being slowly swallowed down.

Before Mo Xuzhi had time to put the pillbox back in his pocket, a call came in.

The caller ID showed [Director Song].

Placing the pillbox temporarily on the desk, Mo Xuzhi answered the call.

“Rutang, the movie passed approval!”

As soon as Mo Xuzhi brought the phone close, that was the sentence he heard.

The person on the other end was clearly very excited, their voice loud and trembling at the end of the words.

“When did this happen?”

Mo Xuzhi sat on the windowsill and pushed the window open a bit.

A tree grew outside the window, its leaves dense and leaning toward the window; he could touch them with a reach of his hand.

There was also a faint smile in his eyes, but compared to the excitement on the other end, he was clearly much calmer.

“The approval was reapplied for last month. Someone from the State Administration of Radio and Television just called to say the movie passed.”

Director Song paused several times during one sentence, and the sound of heavy breathing came through the phone. Mo Xuzhi knew he was likely still calming down and didn’t urge him.

It was normal for Director Song to be this excited; he could understand.

Director Song was named Song Zhenrui, a major domestic director, but he was getting on in years. There were rumors outside that this movie he participated in, called The Last Sound of the Capital, was the final work of his filming career. According to him, this was a movie he had been pondering since he was still in university.

Or rather, this movie ran through his entire directing career and was a work of special significance to him. His feelings for this movie were deep beyond words.

From the start of preparation to casting to the completion of filming, he spent nearly three years in total. The movie was finished, but it got stuck at the submission stage.

This stuck lasted for over a year. Now that he could finally put this work on the big screen, his emotions were bound to fluctuate greatly.

“I just sent the movie to the Global Film Festival Committee,” Song Zhenrui said. “The movie hasn’t been released, so we can’t get domestic awards, but we can try foreign ones. Rutang, we will definitely win an award!”

Mo Xuzhi smiled and didn’t discourage him, saying, “Yes.”

Song Zhenrui really loved this movie.

He usually didn’t even call the actors by their real names but by their character names. The character he played in the movie was named “Bai Rutang,” and now, over a year later, Song Zhenrui still liked to call him that.

“I’m really happy, Rutang. When it’s released, many people will surely like you.”

The voice on the other end was still full of vigor as Song Zhenrui spoke. “When the film wins an award… Yu Shen has returned to the army and won’t participate in these activities anymore. By then, it will just be the two of us walking the red carpet together. When we win, if people in the country find out, they’ll surely praise you and praise this movie—hey, it was filmed well!”

The Last Sound was not a movie with dual male leads, but in terms of the importance of the plot it occupied, it could be considered a dual-male-lead movie in a sense.

The background of The Last Sound was taken from a chaotic yet uniquely charming era long ago. it tells the story of a “Da Qingyi” (leading female role in Peking Opera) named Bai Rutang, who grew up in the “Pear Garden” (opera world) and met an army officer during a performance.

The officer was a villain everyone wanted to kill, named Yu Shen. It was said he had joined foreign forces and committed acts of oppressing the people.

Bai Rutang had a straightforward personality; if he didn’t like someone, he wore it on his face. When Yu Shen came, he wouldn’t go on stage. In the end, the other party actually came to find him.

Yu Shen gave him a letter, saying that if any mishap occurred, he should hand the letter to the Chief of Staff of the Fourth Army. Bai Rutang was completely confused, only thinking this person was sick.

Later, he heard that Yu Shen, who had done every bad deed imaginable, had died—died at the hands of foreigners. As the past plot unfolded, it turned out Yu Shen was someone undercover by the foreigners’ side. He sensed his identity would soon be discovered, so he mistook Bai Rutang for someone in the organization and gave him all the information he had obtained to take to the Chief of Staff.

This letter was written with the lives of many, many people.

Bai Rutang finally decided to send the letter to the Chief of Staff of the Fourth Army.

At the same time, those who had been tracking the location of the letter also learned it was in his hands and began to arrest him.

Bai Rutang, who usually didn’t even dare to eat spicy food for fear of ruining his voice, took off his magnificent robes and put on coarse cloth clothes to avoid being recognized. He used medicine to ruin his own voice and, during his flight, used a knife to slash his own striking eyes and brows.

The once-elegant “Da Qingyi” eventually became unrecognizable.

Later, the letter was delivered safely. In front of the mass grave where Yu Shen was said to be buried, Bai Rutang sang a song from The Peony Pavilion for him in a raspy voice.

The actor who played Yu Shen was from the army. After filming this movie, he seemed to have been moved; he stopped acting and returned to the army, after which there was no more news of him.

Song Zhenrui’s end sighed, his voice lowering. “It’s just that I have no money left for promotion… but I’m satisfied. After thinking for so many years, I’ve finally filmed what I wanted to film and presented it to the audience. It’s worth it.”

“Director Song.”

Mo Xuzhi lowered his eyes and said, “I’m sorry.”

This was his problem. The movie didn’t cross any lines, but it couldn’t pass approval for no other reason than because he participated in it as well.

If it weren’t for him, the movie should have been released a year ago.

It was because he was too naive then and didn’t believe in superstitions. Only after acting in two movies did he understand what a [vase-like cannon fodder who knows nothing] meant.

Bursts of noise came from the other end of the phone, and then Song Zhenrui’s voice came through. He asked, “What did you just say? I didn’t hear clearly.”

“I’m saying,” Mo Xuzhi leaned forward to reach for a green leaf, “you’ll have to walk the red carpet alone.”

“I probably won’t be able to go then.”

“Why?”

“I remember there was an interview the crew filmed for the character actors. Everyone else filmed it; I had other matters at the time and didn’t have the chance.” Mo Xuzhi didn’t answer directly, his fingertip touching the tip of a green leaf. “Director Song, see when you have time. If possible, try to make it within these two days, and I’ll record the missing interview.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

Song Zhenrui realized something.

Sure enough, Mo Xuzhi’s next sentence was: “This should be the last time I accept an interview.”

Both ends of the phone fell into silence.

“Are you serious?”

“Mhm.”

After a long time, Song Zhenrui sighed.

“I’ve been free lately; it depends on your time.” He said, “They all say I’m old and can’t film anymore, but I’m not as incapable as they say. I want to do one more thing recently. I took a liking to a novel, but the author refuses to sell the copyright. I wanted to cooperate with you once more. Now it’s great—the copyright can’t be bought, and the actor won’t act anymore.”

When Mo Xuzhi heard Song Zhenrui mention remaking a novel, his brow didn’t even move.

Song Zhenrui was famous for filming anything and daring to film anything. His scripts were original or adapted from novels, and he even filmed movies derived from game characters. So far, he hadn’t failed once.

“If you’re free, you can go and take a look; that novel is quite interesting,” Song Zhenrui said. “That novel is about technology. I don’t understand it and am learning bit by bit, but the failures and successes are written very realistically.”

He smiled and added, “It makes me feel a lot younger just reading it.”

He had an intuition that if this content could be put on the big screen, it would surely be very infectious. The more Mo Xuzhi listened, the more he felt something was wrong.

Song Zhenrui, however, stopped halfway through. He said, “You are currently at the amusement park on the west side of the city, right?”

Mo Xuzhi nodded: “Mhm.”

“I’m close to here. I’ll find a cameraman and some other people, and we can film the interview somewhere. It won’t take too much time.”

Mo Xuzhi still nodded: “Mhm.”

The two chatted for a few more minutes and then hung up.

Afterward, as if by appointment, Mo Xuzhi received several calls in succession.

They were all from directors or others of movies he had filmed before.

Film and television works that couldn’t be brought to the screen for various reasons all passed the audit during these past few days.

Some crews had money and didn’t want to release immediately, but instead seized the time to start a round of promotion, planning to release when various major film and television awards began tallying works next time, aiming for a wave of both fame and fortune.

Mo Xuzhi didn’t express too much opinion, nor did he agree to subsequent cooperation or related promotional activities. He listened to the other side speaking, occasionally responding with a few words.

Hanging up the last call, Mo Xuzhi threw his phone onto the bed. The back of his head leaned against the wooden frame of the window, his eyelashes drooping slightly. On a nearby branch, birds were making the tree shadows sway dappledly.

Directly below his room was the living room.

Occasional faint voices came from below. Then, the sound of a television came, startling the birds on the branches.

“According to the meteorological bureau’s forecast, in a few days, there will be a significant temperature drop in some areas. Some areas may have rain and snow. These areas include Rongcheng, City A…”