Chapter 100: The Great Clumsy Shape

Gu Cheng and the two young ladies exchanged polite conversation for a while, just as the other meeting had concluded.

Screenwriter Liu and Director Li sipped some water before entering the lounge. After the usual formalities, they got down to business.

Gu Cheng quickly realized that Director Li was merely a puppet, hardly voicing any opinions. The so-called final decisions were entirely dictated by his mother, Screenwriter Liu.

When a screenwriter is in charge of casting, naturally they have their own approach.

Liu didn’t even ask Gu Cheng or Dong Jie to stand and act out a scene; instead, she simply invited them to share their thoughts and interpretations of the drama.

“Gu, why don’t you talk about your perspective on the role of Jin Xixi? Or rather, what aspects do you think need to be developed beyond the ‘Hua Ze Lei’ archetype to truly embody Jin Xixi?”

The question was casual and broad, yet it invited substantial insight. Gu Cheng had anticipated this before coming.

He pursed his lips and began, “I believe the challenge is considerable. When playing ‘Hua Ze Lei,’ it only required technical acting skills. Coordinating well with cinematography, lighting, and pacing allowed for a natural, effortless performance. Character analysis was barely necessary since the audience here knows little about Hua Ze Lei; whatever I portray becomes their perception.

“The biggest difference with ‘The Story of the Golden Powder Family’ is that it is a renowned classic, often dubbed the ‘Republican Era Dream of the Red Chamber’ by literary circles. Once the series gains popularity, countless viewers will seek out the novel to understand Jin Xixi’s character. Therefore, I need to focus primarily on deeply understanding the role…”

Natural casting can easily add twenty points to one’s acting score. An actor originally rated sixty points, if the role aligns closely with their persona, can deliver an eighty-point performance. For example, Zhou Jielun’s pretentious films practically play himself, so his acting is rarely poor.

The screenwriter nodded subtly and pressed further, “Have you studied the original novel?”

Gu Cheng was candid, “I spent two days reading it several times. I find Jin Xixi’s character rather unlikable and quite at odds with my own nature.”

In the original text, Jin Xixi is a thorough scoundrel.

Right from the start, Bai Xiuzhu is infatuated with Jin Xixi, and the two are secret lovers. Later, unwilling to be bound by Bai’s devotion, Jin Xixi cheats and takes up with Leng Qingqiu.

Though Gu Cheng’s previous life saw him manipulate female entertainers who objectified themselves, he never deceived their feelings. Embodying the novel’s Jin Xixi was indeed a challenge.

The screenwriter agreed but seemed to have deeper considerations. She elaborated, “It’s commendable you recognize that. But adapting a classic for television isn’t as solemn as you think. Character analysis is important, but the goal isn’t absolute fidelity to the original.

“We must respect the source while making Jin Xixi more likable. Even if the show aims to educate, it must first lure viewers in. If it is too highbrow or alienates the soap-opera-loving female audience from the start, no matter how well it educates, its influence will be limited—you understand what I mean?”

Gu Cheng nodded vaguely, “I think I do.”

“Good. Take a look at this script outline, then tell us how you plan to shape the character.”

Screenwriter Liu laid a script outline on the conference table.

Gu Cheng took it and skimmed through. He hadn’t read ‘The Story of the Golden Powder Family’ before this life, so he had no expectations or preconceived notions about this version.

Dong Jie leaned over to glance as well but immediately changed expression.

She whispered with suppressed astonishment, “The romantic plot follows the original novel completely? Teacher Liu, didn’t the previous script version depict Bai Xiuzhu’s love as one-sided at the start, without them being official lovers? This reversion raises the difficulty significantly.”

Gu Cheng looked puzzled and glanced between Dong Jie and Liu.

“Why such a fuss? Since the male lead changed to you, Gu, there has to be an advancement. Increasing the challenge is a vote of confidence,” Liu said, though a hint of displeasure flickered in her eyes, as if annoyed with Dong Jie. Still, she explained.

Before Gu Cheng’s involvement, the role had been preliminarily cast with Cheng Kun, a well-known handsome actor in the industry. He had starred in a praised art-house film, ‘Balzac and the Little Seamstress,’ which was even nominated for a Golden Globe for Best Foreign Language Film.

However, Liu felt Cheng Kun’s appearance was too sharp and cunning, giving off a thoroughly unsavory vibe. Starting the series with such a blatantly scoundrel-like lead risked alienating delicate female viewers, possibly causing them to drop the show outright.

So she decisively changed the initial relationship between Jin Xixi and Bai Xiuzhu from being official lovers to Bai’s unrequited love. This adjustment lowered the male lead’s scoundrel image by about eighty percent for the first two-thirds of the series, making it more manageable.

Yet perhaps because Gu Cheng’s devoted, aloof persona in ‘Meteor Garden’ had become firmly entrenched in the public mind, those above felt the need to tarnish his image by assigning him a role that sullied his reputation.

Or maybe Liu thought Gu Cheng’s more innocent appearance than Cheng Kun’s made him suitable to challenge the notion of ‘respecting the original.’

Thus, the script in Gu Cheng’s hands reverted to the version where Jin Xixi was unfaithful from the beginning, abandoning Bai Xiuzhu.

Dong Jie, having seen the previous script, understood the increased difficulty and was surprised. She suspected Liu might be setting Gu Cheng up.

After clarifying the situation, Gu Cheng gave it little thought and began earnest character analysis.

Seeing his acceptance, Liu continued quietly, “Gu, since you replaced the original lead, you need to show clear improvement. If you can’t deliver, not only will I find it hard to lead the team confidently, but outsiders will gossip endlessly about you…”

Gu Cheng bristled inwardly and bluntly said, “Aunt Liu, you know I don’t care what people in the TV industry say about me. If I weren’t forced, I wouldn’t have fought for Cheng Kun’s role.”

“I know you don’t care—I don’t either. You didn’t want the role, and I didn’t want to cast you. But since the higher-ups have spoken, we must do our best. When you’re in the business, you play by its rules.”

“Fine! I get it. I took Cheng Kun’s role, so I have to prove I’m better and silence the rumors, regardless of my personal feelings.”

“Talking to you is easy—I won’t beat around the bush. I want you to play a Jin Xixi who is a scoundrel from start to finish but not hated by the female audience. If you pull that off, you’ll surpass Cheng Kun and put all the gossip to rest.”

Gu Cheng fell into deep thought, poring over the script repeatedly.

Even Dong Jie worried for him secretly, thinking, “This is asking the impossible. A scoundrel who betrays from start to finish—how could he also win the ladies’ hearts? If my future boyfriend acted like this Jin Xixi, I’d kick him out immediately…”

Only the naive Liu Feifei remained clueless, her face still blank.

The initial spark of hope in Liu’s eyes slowly faded, as if sighing: This Gu Cheng might at best reach Cheng Kun’s level…

Yet moments later, Gu Cheng spoke up, “I have a somewhat tentative idea. I think we can portray Jin Xixi as someone who despises aristocratic arranged marriages and political alliances, laying the groundwork for his early estrangement from Bai Xiuzhu.”

His idea was inspired by the later film ‘Inception.’

In that movie, the dream thief Cobb was tasked with an impossible mission: implanting the notion to destroy his father’s energy empire into the mind of young heir Fischer.

Knowing a direct implant of such a self-destructive idea was impossible, they chose a subtler approach—planting the belief that Fischer’s father didn’t want him to follow the old path, that he should create his own value and life.

Gu Cheng’s challenge was analogous.

To make the ‘scoundrel’ trait likable, you can’t straightforwardly endorse being a scoundrel. Instead, you must cloak it with a grander ideal worth pursuing than love itself. The protagonist pursues this ideal, which conflicts with love, creating an impossible choice between two desires, ultimately sacrificing love for righteousness.

This way, the early ‘scoundrel’ behavior is cleverly and superficially masked, preventing female viewers from dropping the show. When the scoundrel traits fully emerge in the final episodes, it won’t feel as jarring as in the Cheng Kun version.

Finally, a trace of intrigue appeared on Liu’s face. “Be more specific.”

Gu Cheng gathered his thoughts and spoke steadily, “‘The Story of the Golden Powder Family’ is set in a fictionalized Beiyang era. Both Jin Xixi and Bai Xiuzhu are presumably born during Emperor Guangxu’s reign, raised under strict feudal morals.

“So we can assume they made a youthful promise of lifelong commitment before their worldviews fully formed.

“The early Republic was a time of chaotic liberal ideas, and the young Jin Xixi was deeply influenced by this ‘freedom.’ He found his feelings for Bai Xiuzhu hollow, uncertain whether she loved him as a person or merely as the prime minister’s son.

“He decided to break free from political marriage’s shackles and seek a poor woman who shared his unwillingness to cling to power. This embodies the saying, ‘Life is precious, love is even more so; but for the sake of freedom, both can be forsaken.’”

Dong Jie, deeply immersed, interrupted, “But… wouldn’t that make Jin Xixi less of a scoundrel?”

Gu Cheng shrugged, “Of course he’s still a scoundrel. By the end, his father dies, the Jin family falls, and fearing hardship, he abandons his ideals of freedom and returns to Bai Xiuzhu, who offers wealth and prestige.

“He’s a dreamer without the soul or courage to suffer for his ideals. He pursues freedom comfortably from above but refuses to endure poverty for it—isn’t that even more despicable?”

“Scoundrel… truly a scoundrel!” Dong Jie thought, finally understanding. She inwardly admired, How experienced a scoundrel’s advocate! His words almost made Jin Xixi seem redeemable.

Liu’s expression grew solemn.

“Unexpectedly, this Gu Cheng, regardless of other factors, has a depth of experience incomparable to Cheng Kun. It’s astonishing for a boy not yet eighteen to possess such profound insight.”