Best Director in Literature Department of Huayu

Chapter 1, Script 1

"Get up! Get up! It's the first day of school, and they'll be taking attendance!"

Lin Ruiyang was awakened by a loud, raspy voice.

He suddenly opened his eyes and saw a magnified face with glasses and toothpaste foam at the corner of its mouth.

"Old Lin, what are you standing there for? Hurry up, or you won't get breakfast!"

Lin Ruiyang stared at the face for a few seconds, realizing he recognized the person.

Li Ming, nicknamed "Fatty," was his college roommate, a 03 graduate of the Literature Department at Yenching Film Academy, just like him. After graduation, this guy became a screenwriter, but ended up doing even worse than him, and eventually, it was said, he went back to his hometown to deliver food.

Wait a minute, Lin Ruiyang suddenly sat up.

Yenching Film Academy, Department of Literature, Class of 03.

He looked down at his hands; they were fair and smooth, without any ganglion cysts from years of typing. Beside his bed was Robert McKee's book on screenwriting theory—*Story: Substance, Structure, Style, and the Principles of Screenwriting*. Beside his pillow was a silver Nokia 3100, its lit screen displaying the date: February 16, 2004.

"2004..." He closed his eyes, then opened them again.

Memories of my past life flooded back like a tide.

His name is Lin Ruiyang. In his previous life, he also majored in literature and stayed in Beijing as a screenwriter after graduation. Or to be more precise, he was an uncredited ghostwriter.

Over eight years, he wrote about Republican-era spy dramas, sweet romance web dramas, and historical romance dramas featuring strong female leads. Whatever was trending at the time, that's the kind of work he was given. But no matter how much or how long he wrote, he never even got the title of "literary coordinator" on the staff list.

At the age of thirty-two, he finally came to his senses and switched careers to become a director. If even writers with no experience could do it, then he could also take a part-time assistant director course to make a living.

With no investors, he wrote the script himself and raised funds on his own. After finally managing to put together a project, on the third day of filming, the scaffolding at the nearby construction site collapsed.

Then he woke up in this simple dormitory, listening to the fat guy urging him to go to the cafeteria for steamed buns.

Lin Ruiyang took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled.

"Fatty," he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

"what?"

"Bring me two steamed buns."

The fat man paused for a moment, then cursed, "Tch, who do you think you're ordering around?" but still grabbed his meal card and left.

The moment the door closed, Lin Ruiyang lay back on the bed, staring blankly at the upper bunk, and began to sort out his jumbled thoughts.

In February 2004, he was only 18 years old when he returned to school after his first winter break.

Eight years of gunman career in his previous life, plus thirty-two years of life experience, are now all stored in this eighteen-year-old's mind.

Lin Ruiyang smiled slowly. In his previous life, his biggest regret wasn't dying, but that no one knew the name "Lin Ruiyang" after he died. His name was never among the names that rolled across the end credits.

But this life will be different.

He rolled out of bed, his feet touching the cold cement floor. Their dormitory was small, a four-person room with yellowish walls and a layer of condensation on the windows.

Lin Ruiyang walked to the desk and opened the drawer.

I have draft paper, a fountain pen, and a few notebooks that I didn't finish using last semester. I don't have a computer.

In 04, a low-end computer cost several thousand yuan, which was unaffordable for ordinary families. His family's situation was even more special. His father had passed away from illness years ago, and his mother ran a small business in their hometown to support his education. It was already difficult enough to scrape together enough for living expenses and tuition.

Therefore, he wrote everything by hand.

Lin Ruiyang spread out the manuscript paper, unscrewed the pen cap, and wrote a line on the paper:

The Three Battles with the White Bone Demon

He paused, then wrote another line below:

Wuju Opera - Experimental Adaptation of Script

It wasn't a movie script, but a stage play that was gradually fading from the view of young audiences at the time.

This was the starting point he had just planned. After all, the film industry has a very high barrier to entry. Who would pay attention to a freshman with no connections, no background, and no experience, just a movie script?

But stage plays are different; campus drama clubs, local drama troupes, and even university drama festivals can all be ways to test the waters.

More importantly, he had seen the Wuju opera version of "The Three Battles with the White Bone Demon" in his previous life. That performance left a very deep impression on him: the White Bone Demon's three "face-changing and costume-changing" scenes, Sun Wukong's "three battles" martial arts scenes, and the final scene of the master and disciple exchanging silent glances, every detail was engraved in his mind.

What he needs to do now is to write this play.

First, the structure is set: nine scenes.

The most distinctive feature of the Wuju opera version is that the White Bone Demon appears first, unlike animations or TV series that focus on Sun Wukong's perspective. This allows the audience to see the demon's cunning and scheming first, before the crisis of trust between master and disciple unfolds.

From the White Bone Demon's three transformations in a short period and the appearance of the four disciples, to the dramatic three battles—the first battle where she transforms into a village girl, the second into an old woman, and the third into an old man—to Tang Sanzang's expulsion of his disciples after witnessing three deaths… all the way to the final scene of rescuing his master through a hole.

Lin Ruiyang finished writing the last word of the outline and put down his pen.

All the key plot points in the nine scenes: the White Bone Demon's disguise and face-changing, the three battles and three transformations, Pigsy's instigation, Tang Sanzang's expulsion of his disciple, Pigsy calling for reinforcements, Sun Wukong's "zombie throw", and the silent eye contact between the master and disciple.

And at the end, before setting off, Sun Wukong only said one sentence: "Master, let's go, the road is still long."

Then, the White Bone Demon's voice rang out one last time: "Trust? In this world, there has never been any."

Lin Ruiyang arranged the manuscript paper in order and then put it in a folder.

How many people would have listened to this script on the opera stage in 04?

he does not know.

But he knew that the Wuju version of "Three Battles with the White Bone Demon" did not rely on fancy lines, but on "acting martial arts in literary scenes and singing literary songs in martial arts scenes". Every movement spoke volumes, and every aria expressed emotions.

This is the kind of play he wanted to write. It has technique, but it's more than just technique; it has a plot, but it's more than just a plot. It's a story everyone knows, but there's a theme that no one has spoken of.

"Bang!"

The dormitory door was kicked open, and the fat man rushed in, panting heavily.

"Old Lin! Why are you still writing here?"

Lin Ruiyang looked up and frowned: "What's wrong?"

"You're asking me what's wrong!" The fat man wiped the sweat from his forehead. "You asked me to bring steamed buns, fine, but the first class of the semester! Old Liu, you dared to skip Professor Liu's class..."

Lin Ruiyang shuddered.

Liu Yibing is the head of the Department of Literature at Yenching Film Academy. He has been teaching in the department since the 1980s, lecturing on courses such as "Film Screenwriting Theory and Techniques" and "Analysis of Classic Film Screenplays." No one dared to skip his classes, nor did anyone want to.

"I called them in for you, but Director Liu isn't stupid. He could tell at a glance that someone was missing when he was counting heads."

The fat man said with a pained expression, "He wants you to go to his office."

"Now?"

"Now! If you keep dawdling, the old man will get angry."

Lin Ruiyang looked down at the folder on the table, hesitated for a moment, and then stood up.

"Let's go then."