Chapter Two: The Most Beautiful Woman Was Fooled by Me Just Like That?

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On Dongzhimen Inner Street stood a hotel known as the Overseas Chinese Hotel.

In the afternoon, a young man arrived at the hotel’s lobby.

He was dressed impeccably and possessed striking features.

Approaching the front desk, he spoke confidently.

“Hello, I’m looking for Mr. Feng Baiyuan, a director from Hong Kong. Please tell him my name is Ma Xun; I’m a professional photographer.”

After hearing this, the receptionist appeared momentarily dazed.

It was likely because the young man before her was quite handsome.

“Miss…” someone reminded her, and the receptionist finally snapped back to reality.

“Sorry, Mr. Ma,” she apologized before making a call.

Her service was flawless.

Ma Xun offered a smile that showed he didn’t mind; even the receptionist blushed slightly.

As the saying goes, clothes make the man, and a saddle suits the horse.

Having changed into designer clothes, Ma Xun’s charm was maximized.

These clothes… were simple in story.

Ma Xun’s current plan was:

Get ahead and become Feng Baiyuan’s photographer!

That way, he could get close to Chen Hong.

And perhaps snag that coveted ‘scoop’.

Once he had the scoop, he’d sell it for cash.

Whether it was Hong Kong media or other gossip outlets, whoever paid more would get it.

His first pot of gold after his time-slip would be secured!

But to play the role of a photographer, his original outfit simply wouldn’t do.

Thus, Ma Xun waited in the sauna room.

After a while, a man of similar build wearing designer brands came out.

That was the one!

In those days, sauna lockers were usually guarded by small, cheap locks worth just a few cents.

It was easy to manage.

So, Ma Xun took the clothes and shoes.

Underwear, money, and other important items he left untouched.

Speed was now essential for Ma Xun.

Don’t forget, the paparazzi chief was also searching for a photographer.

Dressed and ready, Ma Xun hurried to the Overseas Chinese Hotel.

Some might ask, how did Ma Xun know Feng Baiyuan was here?

Simple!

These days, Hong Kong and Taiwan personalities coming to the mainland almost always stayed at this Overseas Chinese Hotel.

Moreover, this hotel had deep ties with the Hong Kong film circle.

It even once hosted the premiere of “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.”

Even if Feng Baiyuan wasn’t staying here, Ma Xun’s inquiry at the front desk was just a casual line.

Look, here comes Director Feng!

“Lei hao ah, Mr. Ma,” Feng greeted him.

“Hello, Director Feng.”

Feng Baiyuan arrived at the hotel lobby and, guided by the receptionist, met Ma Xun.

They shook hands, officially acknowledging each other.

Then they moved to the lounge area to chat.

In truth, this was an ‘interview’.

Ma Xun knew he had to impress Director Feng thoroughly.

Before coming, Ma Xun had crafted an identity for himself.

He portrayed himself as a ‘second-generation’ from the mainland!

So, first, he had to show the attitude of “I’m not desperate for this job.”

“Director Feng, my family suggested I give it a try. I figured, since I’m free, why not.”

His tone and demeanor were well measured.

The key word was ‘family,’ implying he had a background.

Feng frowned slightly, contemplating the young man’s background.

After a moment, he smiled, “Ah! Mr. Ma, you bear some resemblance to that Cannes award-winning director. Haha, the more I look, the more alike you seem!”

Resemble him?

Honestly, Ma Xun was a bit surprised.

In the past, he would have scolded Feng for such an insult.

How could he be so crude?

Back when Ma Xun was studying directing, that big director’s reputation within the industry wasn’t great, and he had many critics.

Frankly, Ma Xun thought he somewhat resembled Zun Long.

Anyway, he was quite handsome.

Since Director Feng said it, Ma Xun could not take offense.

“Director Feng, I’m the type who doesn’t want to rely on connections.”

Feng laughed heartily, “Young people should be like you! We absolutely don’t do nepotism!”

In reality, they were both engaging in exactly that.

Such is the world.

The more one denies it, the more it happens.

By now, Ma Xun’s ‘second-generation’ persona was successful.

“Director Feng, let’s talk about the work details.”

“No rush. Let me test you first, shall I?”

“Go ahead.”

Feng asked several professional questions about photography.

Ma Xun responded fluently, even elaborating at times.

Originally a director himself, Ma Xun knew a director who didn’t understand photography wouldn’t be a good one.

After their exchange, Director Feng’s eyes lit up.

“Excellent, excellent. Mr. Ma, not only do you have extensive photography knowledge, but… I’m guessing you studied overseas?”

Ma Xun replied in English, “School of the Art Institute of Chicago…”

The Chicago Art Institute, Department of Photography.

With a perfect local Chicago accent—he had truly studied abroad.

Feng Baiyuan was immediately impressed.

“Mr. Wang, wonderful! You’re our photographer!”

In Beijing, 1996, being fluent in English was already impressive.

If one also knew the Chicago Art Institute and its photography program, there was no doubt—they were an outstanding young photographer with foreign education!

Don’t underestimate their conversation.

First, the identity check passed.

Then, the professional skills check passed.

And a small detail: professional photography knowledge helped solidify Ma Xun’s ‘second-generation’ persona.

Photography was a craft that could impoverish three generations!

Perhaps exaggerated, but with some truth.

At that time, photography was somewhat inaccessible to ordinary people.

Using 1996 Beijing’s average salary—the highest in the country—even an average family couldn’t afford a decent camera.

Let alone those lenses.

So, hearing Ma Xun’s fluent responses, Feng was certain.

This handsome young man was definitely from a prestigious family in Beijing!

Even if not related to that top director, he must have strong connections.

Then came a ‘minor issue’.

“Mr. Ma, here’s the situation. Our previous photographer from Hong Kong unexpectedly got injured after arriving here and is now hospitalized.”

“Oh? Is it serious? How did it happen?”

“Very bad. His head was smashed. That fool went straight to explore some alley culture after getting off the plane. I’ve visited him in the hospital; he’s still unconscious.”

“I see.” Ma Xun was uneasy. He asked about the accident to gauge how long he could work.

Once the original photographer recovered, Ma Xun would have to leave.

Unexpectedly…

“The doctor said the object that hit him was contaminated with bacteria—lots of them… very dangerous. Even after waking, he’ll need observation for several days…

Hey, Mr. Ma, why are you sweating?”

“It’s nothing, it’s just very hot here.” Ma Xun smiled, wiping sweat—it was a forced smile.

Fortunately, Director Feng didn’t notice.

“Mr. Ma, you know how it is. When we shoot, there’s a difference between Hong Kong and mainland staff. We had agreed on a Hong Kong photographer, and suddenly switching to someone from the mainland is hard to explain.”

Understood.

The entertainment industry worked like that. While there was frequent cooperation across the Taiwan Strait, the treatment within crews differed vastly.

Director Feng, having submitted the budget, had to spend it. If they found out a mainland photographer replaced the Hong Kong one, investors would think,

“You’re cheating me!”

Ma Xun said directly, “No problem, no problem.”

How’s my Cantonese?

Add some English?

Director Feng was delighted, “Wonderful! That’s perfect! If Cantonese isn’t convenient, just speak English; that’s how we Hong Kong people are.”

But there was a small detail, “Director Feng, I came in a hurry and didn’t bring my equipment.”

“No problem,” Feng waved his hand. “That guy hasn’t woken up yet. I brought his gear here; you can use it. His room is reserved; if he doesn’t get discharged, you can stay there. It should only be a day or two of work.”

Feng was quite thoughtful.

“Don’t feel pressured. As long as you can convince others you’re from Hong Kong, I’m fine. After all, the injured photographer situation has to be reported.”

“Understood.”

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Success in the ruse!

Director Feng led Ma Xun to his room.

After some small talk, Feng left.

Ma Xun had already spotted the camera bag and opened it.

A Nikon F3.

This was a legendary camera cherished by many photography enthusiasts.

It also appeared in numerous films.

For example, in “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty,” the photographer played by Sean Penn used this model.

Ma Xun’s job was to take the makeup and costume photos.

The film was titled “New York Storm.”

The male and female leads were going to New York from here.

Before that, they had a scene on the Great Wall.

Feng said if the original photographer couldn’t recover, Ma Xun would shoot that scene.

Ma Xun wasn’t thinking that far ahead.

He lay on the comfortable big bed, feeling blissful and unconcerned with his usual harsh reality.

Playing with the camera in his hands, he was reluctant to put it down.

Damn it!

All this had been achieved through deception!

That meant he should keep up the act.

Suddenly, the room phone rang.

“Miss Chen is here.”

…

Chen Hong arrived at the Overseas Chinese Hotel.

The sun had just set.

Introduced by Director Feng, Ma Xun met Chen Hong face to face.

“Hello, Mr. Ma.”

Just a glance was enough to stun Ma Xun for a moment.

No wonder—Chen Hong in 1996 was breathtakingly beautiful.

She perfectly embodied traditional Eastern aesthetics!

Every feature on her face was beautiful.

Together, they were even more striking.

She carried the unique charm of the water towns in the Jiangnan region.

Delicate and refined, gentle as flowing water.

Most importantly, she possessed an elegant and intellectual beauty.

Ma Xun momentarily lost focus, drawing a soft laugh from the beauty.

Her voice was soft and tender.

“Dui mu ji.” Honestly, his Cantonese was pretty decent.

Chen Hong nodded slightly and extended her jade-like hand.

Ma Xun took it, feeling its smoothness.

Calling her the most beautiful woman was no exaggeration.

“Haha… now that you two have met, shall we…”

Before Director Feng could finish, Chen Hong interrupted.

“You both traveled so far; I must show proper hospitality. Let me host—you mustn’t refuse.”

What was there to say? Of course, that was fine.

So they reserved a private room at the Overseas Chinese Hotel.

They chatted and laughed, mainly to get closer.

None of them were familiar with each other; Feng hadn’t worked with Chen Hong before.

After eating and drinking their fill, before leaving, Chen Hong gave each of them a gift bag.

“A small token, please accept it.”

“Miss Chen, you’re too kind, haha…”

Director Feng was delighted, but Ma Xun’s expression was somewhat odd.

He didn’t show it, though.

Only after the beauty left did Ma Xun quickly return to his room.

He opened the gift bag.

Two hundred thousand yuan in cash!

And a heavy little jar!

Ma Xun immediately understood.

Inside that jar were likely only two things: liquid nitrogen and liquid acetone.

The scoop was in hand!?

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