Chapter Thirty-Three: Liu Qingshan's Ego Swells

“It’s not so much about going around Long, but rather finding another angle to resolve this matter. It’s better than letting our two old boys stir up trouble again, don’t you think?” Lin Fengqiao smiled gently.

“Qiao, I was promoted by the boss himself, so of course my loyalty lies here. Besides, he’s helping me fight for my own interests. Qiao, why don’t you help me politely decline? Maybe say the schedule doesn’t fit?”

Before Liu Qingshan could finish, Long cut in: “You should still try for this opportunity. They’re making a film called ‘SPL’, and from what I hear, it’s a bloody, modern action piece. Even if you aren’t playing the lead, being part of it will do a lot for your future.”

Lin Fengqiao followed up immediately. “I was brought here to find the best solution between you two. Your boss is right—this is an essential opportunity for you.”

“Then I’ll accept. I’m not concerned about my pay, but I can’t let the boss lose face either. Qiao, how about this? Let’s not mention salary for now. We’ll decide the actual number based on my performance and the final box office. What do you think?”

Long couldn’t help but laugh, cutting him off. “Listen, what you’re proposing is a little strange. There’s no precedent for it, and besides, did you even ask me what price I set for you?”

“Boss, you have to see this from both sides. From your perspective, there should be a price that matches my ability. For me, I’d take whatever is offered, since right now I’m just an unknown. But I agree with you, I can’t lose my dignity either.”

Lin Fengqiao and Jin Xishan both burst out laughing. Liu Qingshan’s words sounded logical, but it was clear he was just trying to smooth things over without taking a stand, all while putting on an air of noble resolve.

Long laughed and scolded him. “You rascal, you haven’t even left my side and you’re already playing clever games in front of me? It’s all nonsense!”

It seemed Lin Fengqiao didn’t want to dwell on it any longer, so she stated the number directly: “Your boss offered a straight one million. That’s nothing for a star, but for a newcomer, it’s a fortune. I agree with Brother Hong; it sounds like you’re setting up hurdles on purpose.”

“Qiao, whose side are you on? We’re family, aren’t we?”

“Long, you really handled this poorly. It’s not that I think Qingshan isn’t worth it, but he simply doesn’t have any real work to show for himself yet. Anyone would see it that way.”

“That’s just because they don’t understand his true ability. A traditional martial arts master being used as a bit player? I can’t accept it, not for anything in the world.”

“You’re saying Qingshan has master-level skill?”

Lin Fengqiao had spent her life with Long and had seen all kinds of people in the martial arts scene. She knew that no one currently could truly be called a master. She immediately saw where Long’s hang-up was and formed a new opinion.

Long nodded. “You can ask people in the crew, especially Lu Huiguang. He’s one of the three recognized top martial artists in Hong Kong entertainment—his opinion means more than mine.”

“Well, if that’s the case, we really do need to reconsider. I’ll ask Huiguang myself. If he agrees, then Director Ye and the others won’t need to act so aloof. They’ll have to come see for themselves.”

Liu Qingshan had already suspected that the idea of an audition at the hotel was just for show. As Lin Fengqiao said, the director was still clinging to his airs, waiting for him to make the first move.

Long explained, “Ye Weixing is accompanied by Zhen Zijian, one of the leads in the film. He’s a proud man, but he really has skills—beyond the three top martial artists in Hong Kong, it’s him.”

Liu Qingshan was no stranger to Zhen Zijian. He’d fought in the ring, won a championship belt, and was the same age as Ye Weixing, nine years younger than Long, and just entering middle age. His character was shaped by his family: his father was a famous musician, his mother a world-renowned martial artist and tai chi master who ran a school in America with students from all over the world. Growing up immersed in both art and martial arts, his rebellious streak came from the clash between American and Chinese cultures, not from any personal flaw.

“Who hasn’t heard of him nowadays? But I don’t mean to look down on him—as a fellow martial artist, he’s not qualified to test me. As an actor, though, he certainly has reason to.”

Lately, Liu Qingshan’s personality had started to shift, ever since his power had surged the previous day. Even without practice, he could feel how much stronger he’d become. The sense of dignity from his ancient martial arts heritage meant that facing other martial artists, he no longer felt the humility of an actor; instead, a natural pride arose.

Long was quick to pick up on the change and looked at him questioningly.

Liu Qingshan nodded. “My skills have broken through again these past few days. It’s like my confidence is swelling out of control, but only when facing fellow martial artists.”

As a martial artist himself, Long understood that true strength brings a certain mindset. “No wonder. You’re always cautious, so I was surprised to hear you speaking this way. But to make such progress in just a few days—are you trying to leave the rest of us in the dust?”

Despite his surprise, he didn’t press for details. In his mind, there was nothing about Liu Qingshan’s abilities that could shock him anymore.

“Qingshan, if the price is negotiable, what do you think would be appropriate?” Lin Fengqiao still cared about the matter.

“Qiao, I’d stick to what I said before. Let them name the price. I’ll do my best with the role, whether it’s tens of thousands or millions—I’ll take it without complaint.”

Seeing his resolve, Long asked in confusion, “So you weren’t just talking nonsense earlier? I can understand basing it on your performance, but I don’t get the idea of tying it to the box office. Isn’t that just profit-sharing?”

“Boss, don’t tease me. With my current status, I’m in no position to discuss profit-sharing. I call it a wager: only if the box office is high do we discuss salary—if it’s below a certain mark, I take nothing at all.”

“A wager? That’s a new one. Are you just trying to maximize your own benefit? Don’t you realize that’s a huge risk? As a professional director, I know better than anyone that box office returns are mostly beyond our control. It depends on timing, circumstances, luck, and above all, the film’s quality.”

Long’s words were realistic; Lin Fengqiao offered her own advice. “He’s right. The box office isn’t the result of one person’s effort but the collective work of the entire crew. Even if your role stands out, it might not affect the overall sales, and the market is always changing. In some ways, the uncertainty is even greater than the quality of the script.”

“Qiao, I understand all of that. But I’m not making this proposal blindly before seeing the script. My confidence comes from Brother Hong and Zhen’s real abilities, and from Director Ye’s willingness to travel all this way in search of the right actor.”

“But have you considered you might not be one of the key roles? And the film’s budget is a crucial factor too,” Long added.

“I’m just sharing an idea. I’ll only decide after I know everything.”

“There’s one more important point: what benchmark would you use for this wager? A specific amount? Have you thought about the possibility that the film might not be released in the mainland? From what I know, ‘SPL’ is likely too realistic and violent to pass censorship here. With my years of experience, I doubt it’ll get approval.”

Long’s words seemed to please him; he watched Liu Qingshan’s expression change, as if relishing the hint of disappointment he saw. After so many years as a mentor, he’d rarely been disappointed by a young man as often as he had with Liu Qingshan in recent times. Liu Qingshan often surprised him, sometimes leaving him at a loss.

Lin Fengqiao noticed the shift in Liu Qingshan’s mood too. Clearly, if it couldn’t be released on the mainland, his carefully laid plans would be seriously undermined. It was like a bucket of cold water dousing his enthusiasm.

This vague sense of superiority was evidently tied to his own swelling self-regard. Long was straightforward enough not to point it out directly, which was already sparing his feelings.

At that moment, Liu Qingshan truly felt a twinge of regret. He said, “Boss, you didn’t tell me earlier because you wanted to curb my overconfidence, didn’t you?”

Long chuckled. “It’s normal for young people to get overconfident after a bit of success—I’ve been there myself. Ask Qiao; back then, no one warned me, and I muddled through for years. Normally, I’d let you make a few mistakes before pointing it out, but considering your unique qualities, I was worried your mindset would suffer and affect your progress. That’s why I decided to wake you up sooner.”

Liu Qingshan wiped the sweat from his forehead, the weakness he’d just felt slowly fading. “Boss, honestly, I’d like to bow to you right now, but with Xishan and Mingxiu watching, I’d be too embarrassed.”

“I didn’t notice anything wrong with your attitude either. I have to say, Long’s experience has taught me a lesson, too,” Jin Xishan admitted sincerely.