I'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.

Over half an hour later, Li Wenyu arrived at the restaurant, where Jiang Wu was already waiting outside. "Director Li, the private room is ready. My brother didn't want to meet outside to avoid attracting fans."

Li Wenyu chuckled, "I'm late. Your brother must be curious about the script, so I printed a copy in advance."

It was the truth. Given his current reputation, he didn't even need to mention the title of a new project to pique the interest of actors with the status of Jiang Wu or Xu Jinjiang. If an opportunity arose, actors would do anything to secure a role.

Jiang Wen was different. Even though he had been banned from directing for five years due to his unauthorized participation in the Cannes Film Festival, his status and talent were undeniable. Having won the Golden Lion at Venice in 1994, he was considered a seasoned veteran.

Jiang Wu’s eyes lit up. He remained humble and courteous, "You brought the script? Then I’ll get a sneak peek too. Who doesn't know that Director Li is a genius screenwriter? Three scripts in a row have been highly praised by superstars like Leslie Cheung and Andy Lau, who spent a fortune to acquire them."

The two exchanged pleasantries as they entered the restaurant and headed to the private room.

Jiang Wen rushed over to greet them. "I couldn't come out to meet you, Director Li, so I'll down three shots in a moment. Did you bring the script? I heard the rumor that both of Leslie's scripts are potential contenders for the Big Three European film festivals. Even Director Chen would have to tip his hat to your talent."

Jiang Wen had initiated the dinner mostly out of curiosity—helping his brother was just a bonus. As a powerhouse in his own right, he was deeply intrigued by Li Wenyu’s new project. Even if it were a commercial blockbuster rather than a festival contender, he expected it to be far superior to the popcorn flick *The Shallows*.

Li Wenyu’s first film, *The Shallows*, hadn't been released yet, but Jiang Wen had already seen it. To negotiate screen counts, Leslie Cheung had invited theater owners to view the finished film, and Jiang Wen had tagged along. Having seen the success and polish of *The Shallows*, Jiang Wen suspected this new work would have even more depth.

Li Wenyu pulled the script from his bag. Jiang Wen grabbed it with one hand while downing three shots of baijiu with the other. "Xiao Wu, take good care of Director Li. I’m going to indulge myself for a while," he said before burying his head in the pages.

Jiang Wu was left standing there, speechless. After a few awkward moments, he started pouring drinks and chatting, bringing up his fitness plans to ensure he could match whatever physical image Li Wenyu required. At six feet tall and thirty-five years old, he was confident he could handle any physical demand.

Nearly half an hour later, Jiang Wen came over to pour more drinks. "What a script! Brilliant. The artistic depth and the critique of human nature—it’s not overly aggressive, but it certainly has the makings of an award-winner."

"Director Li, that final shot where the protagonist sweeps away the soda can with his white cane so effortlessly—is that a hint that he regained his sight, or was he faking the blindness all along?"

Li Wenyu clinked glasses with him and smiled. "I'll leave that for the audience to decide."

Jiang Wen laughed, "Are you planning to have Xiao Wu play the corrupt cop? The one who is cold and ruthless, killing without hesitation, only to be terrified when his wife discovers his mistress and starts firing shots into the bathroom, forcing him to cower on the toilet lid?"

"And the one who ends up being killed by a ricocheting bullet while trapped in the elevator, trying to hunt down the team blackmailing him?"

He found the script—with its dark humor and constant twists—absolutely captivating.

Jiang Wu, now somewhat sobered, stood up in alarm. "Wait, brother, what are you implying?" He wasn't a fool; he sensed trouble from Jiang Wen's excitement.

Li Wenyu nodded, "I was planning for Brother Wu to audition for that role."

Jiang Wen grew even more excited. "Is the lead role going to a Hong Kong superstar? Director Li, I think I’d be perfect as the villainous supporting character. I’ve got the build and the presence."

The role had a perfect mix of menace and dark comedy, with plenty of opportunities for high-stakes acting. For instance, the scene where the lead, posing as a blind pianist, plays at the home of an aging star on his anniversary. He is faking his blindness! He starts playing a cheerful tune, only to glance into a corner and see a corpse, forcing him to maintain his act while terrified. Then, he tries to escape to the bathroom, only to find the corrupt cop—the same guy who is having an affair with the star’s wife—hiding behind the door with a gun. It was a masterclass in acting.

Jiang Wen was thrilled at the prospect of going head-to-head with the likes of Leslie Cheung or Andy Lau.

The script continued: the corrupt cop suspects the pianist isn't blind, leading to a tense game of cat-and-mouse. Later, when the pianist returns to the house and accidentally witnesses the wife pushing an elderly neighbor to her death, the tension reaches a breaking point. It was a story about a man who, out of greed or voyeurism, pretends to be blind, only to be dragged into a dangerous criminal underworld, fighting for survival.

Jiang Wen was still buzzing with excitement, but Jiang Wu was furious. "Jiang Wen, are you even my brother? How can you steal an opportunity from your own sibling?"

Li Wenyu was caught in the middle. "Director Jiang, what about *The Missing Gun*?"

Jiang Wen beamed, "Xiao Wu, don't take this the wrong way, but with a script of this quality, if you go up against actors like Leslie or Andy, you’ll be crushed. You’ll see when you finish the script."

"As for *The Missing Gun*, I was only helping out because they asked. If I can take this role, you can take my place in that film. Besides, you’d still be the lead there—how is that me stealing your chance?"

Li Wenyu was left speechless. While he had no doubts about Jiang Wen’s acting, he sighed, "Director Jiang, the script is complete. You’re welcome to act, but I’m directing this one."

He wondered, if Jiang Wen didn't do *The Missing Gun* and Jiang Wu took over, what would happen to the original director’s career? Without his breakout film, he might never have risen to fame. But that was the nature of the entertainment industry—sometimes you just have to laugh at the irony of it all.