Chapter 9
Director Huang Yong received a phone call at five o’clock in the morning. Being older, he didn’t need much sleep and was just heading out for his morning walk. When his phone rang, he pulled it out and saw it was a call from Minister Qiao of the Central Propaganda Department. He paused for a second, puzzled. As far as he knew, there weren’t any major national projects coming up.
Next year’s Olympics were set for the Southern Hemisphere, and the one after that wasn’t in the Hua nation either. It was too early for formal preparations for the Spring Festival Gala, and he hadn’t received any documents about documentaries recently.
The old director racked his brain but couldn’t think of anything important enough for Minister Qiao to call him this early. When he answered, he assumed it was a personal call between old friends.
But Minister Qiao on the other end skipped the pleasantries entirely. He opened by telling him to bring his team to the Capital Academy of Sciences at seven in the morning.
“Are we filming a documentary for the academy?” Director Huang asked. “The academy is such a secretive place. It won’t be easy to film there, will it?”
Or had the higher-ups decided to declassify some secret information?
Minister Qiao’s voice was hurried, sounding like he was already on the road, with the sound of wind whistling in the background. “It has nothing to do with the academy; we’re just borrowing their space. Just come first. This is a huge project. The Chief personally requested you for the job. Bring your best professionals. We’ll discuss the details when you get there.”
Hearing that the Chief himself had assigned it, Director Huang’s expression immediately turned serious. He stopped asking questions, said “Alright,” and hung up, rushing home.
Director Huang’s wife was preparing breakfast. Seeing her husband burst through the door and dive into a room, she turned and called out, “Come and eat! The congee is ready.”
After calling twice with no response, Mrs. Huang washed her hands and prepared to go drag him out. The older he got, the more childish he became, needing to be begged just to eat a meal.
But when she entered the room, she saw Director Huang throwing clothes from the closet onto the bed. A suitcase lay open on the floor, already partially packed with daily necessities.
“What’s all this? Another business trip?”
Director Huang had just finished filming a scenic documentary and had only been back from the northwest for two days. The plan had been for him to rest for over two months. Just last night, the couple had been discussing a trip abroad.
“A last-minute assignment. I’ll probably be gone for a few days, but it’s here in the capital, so not far.”
After finding his clothes, Director Huang started looking for his shoes. Mrs. Huang, long accustomed to his frequent business trips, took the clothes from his hands and helped him fold them. “Alright, let me handle this. You go pack up your equipment.”
By the time he was packed, it was nearly time to leave. During breakfast, Director Huang was constantly on the phone. He had a team he had worked with for many years—cameramen, screenwriters, makeup artists, and costume designers, all long-term collaborators. They had handled many national projects together. Upon receiving the director’s call, the others all agreed to come. Fortunately, they were all in the capital, so it was convenient.
“Aren’t you going to call Little Ji?” Mrs. Huang asked, noticing that he had called everyone but hadn’t dialed Ji Minghui. She knew the master and apprentice were still giving each other the silent treatment.
“He’s moved on to bigger and better things. This old man won’t go bother him and get in the way of him making his fortune.”
Director Huang snorted without looking up and started drinking his congee.
Mrs. Huang placed a fried egg in his bowl and continued to persuade him. “Are you two really going to hold a grudge overnight? We watched Little Ji grow up. He’s not like that. Don’t make things up.”
“It’s just that the boy has grown up and has his own ideas now. We all have to keep up with the times and listen to the opinions of the younger generation, don’t we?”
“This is such a great opportunity. If you don’t bring him along, you’ll regret it.”
“We’ll see who regrets it!” Director Huang snapped, then grabbed his suitcase and left.
Mrs. Huang watched his retreating back and shook her head. The older he got, the grumpier he became.
…
Director Huang and his team had been to the Capital Academy of Sciences before. That time, it was to film a biographical record of a deceased senior academician. But even then, they had only filmed a small, declassified portion of the academician’s former lab and rest area. Any information that could reveal the academy’s location was strictly forbidden from being leaked.
Because of their previous visit, all the necessary procedures were in order, and the guards at the gate checked them through quickly. By a little after seven, the group of more than a dozen people had arrived at the designated conference room.
The moment Director Huang arrived, the others crowded around him, asking about the content of this shoot. He waved his hand, telling everyone to sit down first. “Nothing’s been revealed yet. We’ll know soon enough.”
The team was used to these highly confidential filming plans and didn’t press further. A few minutes later, Minister Qiao arrived.
“Old Huang, it’s been a while,” Minister Qiao said, giving him a hug as he entered. The two were old friends who had worked together for many years.
Seeing Minister Qiao in person, the rest of the team knew this project was definitely not a small one.
Director Huang glanced behind Minister Qiao and, seeing no one else, asked, “Alright, let’s skip the formalities. What’s the assignment this time? I’ve brought my people, the equipment is ready, and we can start filming anytime. But if it’s a movie or something, that won’t work. There’s too much preparation involved.”
“These people will be enough,” Minister Qiao said, sitting down with Director Huang and greeting the team. “This assignment is a livestream. And you don’t need to prepare the broadcasting equipment. Our main job is to plan the content and filming of the stream.”
For the first time in his career, Director Huang was stunned speechless when discussing the film industry. He couldn’t help but repeat, “A livestream? You’re not joking, are you?”
The livestreaming industry was indeed booming right now. Although Director Huang was an old-school director, he had heard of it. But he had never imagined the state would specifically seek him out to do a livestream.
What kind of livestream was so important that the state itself had to get involved?
Streaming an aircraft carrier? A rocket launch?
The other team members also looked at each other, bewildered. They had filmed movies and TV shows, directed documentaries and opening ceremonies, but none of them had ever touched the field of livestreaming.
“If he knew about this project, maybe Ji Minghui wouldn’t have left. This is perfect for young people like him,” whispered Sister Wang, the makeup artist, to a colleague beside her.
After a moment to digest it, Director Huang quickly accepted the task. He immediately asked for the specific content of the stream, ready to roll up his sleeves and dive into what was, for him, a brand new field.
He never expected that Minister Qiao’s next words would completely shatter his worldview.
“The host has already been chosen. The specific content is still being planned by the higher-ups. The target audience for the stream is interstellar humanity, sixteen thousand years in our future.”
Director Huang: “…Huh?”
Did I not wake up properly this morning? Am I dreaming right now?
The jaws of everyone else in the conference room nearly hit the floor. A livestream was one thing, but a livestream for interstellar humans sixteen thousand years in the future? Was this really not a prank? It was too absurd!
An hour later, when Xia Anran arrived, Director Huang was still in a state of disbelief. Although Minister Qiao had sworn on it, and the state was backing the claim that a livestream connecting to the interstellar future had indeed appeared, it was just too incredible to accept.
“Old Huang, this is Little Xia. She is also the person in charge of our Project Liuhe. You can discuss the specific details of the livestream with her,” Minister Qiao said, introducing the two.
“Hello, Director Huang,” Xia Anran said, her eyes sparkling. “I’m a fan of yours! I’ve seen every episode of your documentary, A Bite of Hua Nation!”
Director Huang: “…Hahaha, is that so?”
The young lady had unique taste. Of all the movies and TV shows he had filmed, her favorite was a food documentary.
Director Huang’s team was composed of seasoned veterans, with only a film editor and a makeup artist looking younger. Xia Anran politely greeted these senior figures. The moment she sat down, Director Huang couldn’t help but start asking her for the details of the livestream.
Xia Anran still didn’t know much about the other side. She just told them that they claimed to be humans from sixteen thousand years in the future who had migrated from Earth to the stars, and that after last night’s analysis, it was highly likely they were descendants of the Hua nation.
“There’s also a portion of the audience who are native inhabitants of the star system. They seem to be more interested in our fruit,” Xia Anran said. “As for the future Earth humans, they are very interested in our history and daily life.”
Director Huang listened intently, his pen never stopping as it scribbled down a flurry of ideas.
The nostalgia and longing for their ancient mother planet after being away from Earth for so many years—that was easy to understand. But why the native interstellar inhabitants were interested in fruit was something he couldn’t figure out.
“Does the content for today’s stream need approval from the higher-ups?” Director Huang wondered. When to stream and what to stream were critically important. After all, this was a broadcast that crossed time and dimensions. They couldn’t lose face for the Hua nation in front of their descendants and interstellar beings. He didn’t dare make a decision about the content lightly.
“I discussed it with the leaders yesterday. We can stream the capital city for them,” Xia Anran said, proposing the outdoor streaming plan she had promised her interstellar fans.
“Stream the capital city…” Director Huang thought about it. It was indeed a good topic, but Xia Anran had just told him her stream time was only ten minutes. What could they possibly show in that time? They probably couldn’t even finish touring the main city square.
Xia Anran also knew that the ten-minute limit was a huge constraint for an outdoor stream. The group discussed it for a long time without reaching a decision. In the end, after much deliberation, Minister Qiao called the top leader to make the final call.
The top leader took the call, listened to Minister Qiao’s report, and pondered for a moment. “Since we promised our interstellar friends last time, we can’t break our word. Ten minutes is a bit short. Comrade Huang Yong, do you have any ideas?”
Being called upon, Director Huang immediately replied, “Rest assured, Chief. Although the time is short, it’s not impossible. We’ll begin preparations right away.”
The moment he heard they were streaming the capital, Director Huang had already started planning the broadcast in his head. The time was short, but if they had to do it, it wasn’t out of the question.
“Good. From now on, you all can decide the content of the streams. Just submit a summary report every so often. I’m sure Little Xia can handle it,” the top leader said with a chuckle.
Xia Anran was overwhelmed. “Thank you, Chief. We will all do our best.”
The top leader offered a few more words of encouragement and then hung up.
“Alright, let’s get to it,” Director Huang said, all business. He called his team to grab their equipment and then said to Minister Qiao, “Old Qiao, can you get the Princess’s Mansion on Wutong Street approved as our streaming location?”
The Princess’s Mansion on Wutong Street was a key national cultural heritage site and was normally closed to tourists. The mansion was nearly a thousand years old and was exceptionally well-preserved. Everything inside was an antique, including a large collection of ancient carvings and embroidery. Most importantly, it was just across the street from the ancient Imperial Palace. From the top of the mansion’s embroidery tower, one could get a full view of the entire palace complex.
“No problem,” Minister Qiao agreed readily. “The higher-ups have already instructed us to support your work unconditionally. All approvals have a green-light channel. You just head over there. The paperwork will be done before you arrive.”
Minister Qiao wasn’t exaggerating. By the time they arrived, the side gate of the Princess’s Mansion was already open. The staff verified their IDs and let them in.
Director Huang began directing the setup, while Xia Anran was pulled away for makeup and a costume change.
The makeup artist, Sister Wang, praised Xia Anran’s good foundation as she worked—fair, with good skin. Xia Anran blushed at the compliments.
“Sister Wang, your skills are incredible. I can barely recognize myself,” Xia Anran said, stunned as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Is this the power of a top-tier makeup artist?
Sister Wang was also very pleased with her masterpiece. “In the words of you young people, this is called ‘restoring your natural beauty.'”
Sister Wang is quite trendy.
The makeup Sister Wang did for Xia Anran today was a classical style. The costume and makeup team had already discussed it with Director Huang; today’s theme was classical neo-Chinese. Just as the makeup was finished, Little Yan from the costume department came in with several outfits.
They were all qipaos and modernized hanfu. Xia Anran reached out and touched the fabric; it was incredibly smooth and soft, and the embroidery was exquisite.
“These are finished pieces from Master Liang’s workshop. Let’s have Miss Xia try them on for size. If they don’t fit, Master Liang can alter them immediately,” Little Yan said as she helped Xia Anran try on the clothes.
Xia Anran tried on a moon-white Tang-style hanfu. It was soft and graceful, perfectly outlining her figure, making her look as cool and elegant as a white plum blossom in the snow. Although the color was simple, it was embroidered all over with cloud patterns in silver thread that shimmered in the light. Sister Wang’s eyes lit up, and she decided on the spot that this was the one.
The hem was just a little too long, so Little Yan quickly took the outfit to be adjusted.
“As expected of Master Liang’s craftsmanship. You can’t find anyone better in the entire Hua nation,” Sister Wang said as she did Xia Anran’s hair. “It’s a pity Master Liang rarely comes out of retirement these days, and he only gives his clothes to people he feels a connection with.”
Xia Anran felt a bit awkward. “Ah? Then aren’t I breaking Master Liang’s rules?” She hadn’t even met him.
“We’ve already spoken to him. Today was on short notice. In the future, Master Liang will custom-make your clothes for the livestreams.”
After another half-hour of bustling, Xia Anran was finally ready. Director Huang’s team had also finished setting up the cameras.
At last, the first professionally produced livestream was about to begin.