Chapter 13: Even the Medical Expert Panel Was Baffled

The first film after Li Wenyu’s rebirth, the maiden work jointly owned by him and Pang Bing, had just wrapped up. As the crew and team landed on the shore of Tsim Sha Tsui, Zhang Guorong’s assistant came running ahead to greet them, leading them to the arranged wrap-up banquet, ready for the team to feast and celebrate.

Soon after, Li Wenyu and Pang Bing got into Ah Rong’s van. After some polite exchanges, Zhang Guorong smiled and said, “Ah Yu, I’ll leave the film’s promotion and marketing to you. Didn’t you mention before that you had some ideas for online promotion? I’m not very familiar with that side of things.”

“But there’s something I want to ask you. Do you have any other scripts, maybe something like ‘Tsim Sha Tsui by the Seaside’—something healing or maybe a bit melancholic? If you do, go ahead and write it. If the quality is good, I’ll buy it.”

“You know, like the ‘Miracle Boy’ script you gave Ah Hua—I’m also going to make a cameo in that one. That script isn’t depressing; it’s just so warm and beautiful.”

Both Li Wenyu and Pang Bing were a bit stunned by these words.

After a few seconds, Li Wenyu asked curiously, “Rong Ge, why do you have this idea?”

Zhang Guorong cleared his throat. “You all know I have depression. It’s quite severe. Many people in my circle know about it. I’ve been seeking medical advice for a long time, but the effects have been minimal.”

“Even my team of specialists says it’s physiological depression—a chemical imbalance in part of my brain, not just caused by emotional distress or pressure. When I was at the seaside in Tsim Sha Tsui, I somehow improved a lot, though I wasn’t sure if it was because playing the role of a failed healer really lifted my spirits... But recently, working with Sheng Ge, my condition worsened a bit.”

Li Wenyu started analyzing.

Observation target: Zhang Guorong

Acting skills: 94/100.

Singing ability: 88/100.

Health: 59/100.

...

As Zhang Guorong continued explaining, he said he had repeatedly consulted his specialists and even brought in other teams for brain examinations.

The physiological cause in his brain had partially improved but was far from cured—there was still a fundamental imbalance in brain tissue. From late August to the end of October, his condition had slightly worsened.

Regarding Zhang Guorong’s own inexplicable emotional uplift during the filming of the melancholic movie, where the script’s premise was that some regrets, once happened, could never be undone... the loss was absolute. This kind of deeply depressing project strangely helped improve his condition, a fact he had thoroughly explained to the medical team.

The specialists were baffled!

They had been discussing and researching for a month or two with no result.

The human brain is incredibly complex. The experts’ advice was: since this miraculous reaction had occurred once, why not make another film—one that’s melancholic or about failed healing?

With Zhang Guorong’s influence across Asia and even worldwide, every specialist wants to cure him. That would be the best credential and résumé.

Zhang Guorong had long wanted to try.

A health score of 59 was still far from the brink of repeated suicide attempts or actual suicide, but the pressures and discomfort remained.

Li Wenyu recalled that a year before Zhang Guorong’s suicide attempt, his mental torment had not only caused a breakdown but also physical symptoms—acid reflux affecting his throat, impairing even his recording sessions.

The beautiful Shanghai film originally scheduled for him to co-star with Wang Zuoxian had to be postponed until 2004 due to his illness.

Li Wenyu quickly nodded. “That’s easy. I’ll take some time to think it through and try to write you a good script.”

“Whether it helps or not, it’s worth a try.”

For example, Li Wenyu’s cousin had skyrocketed to Oscar Best Actress in 2013 with the film *The Pursuit of Happyness Behind the Clouds*, which actually won the Oscar trophies. The film also garnered nominations for Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor, Best Supporting Actor, Best Supporting Actress, and Best Adapted Screenplay.

It was adapted from the 2011 novel *Move Aside, Let Me Embrace Happiness*.

The story followed a male protagonist recovering from mental illness who meets a beautiful widow with her own psychological struggles; they heal each other.

Not only did it sweep awards globally, but it also grossed $236 million worldwide.

With Li Wenyu’s then 72-point screenwriting skill, even after studying the original, adapting it fully to Hong Kong Island culture was a challenge.

Take, for instance, *Tsim Sha Tsui by the Seaside* that he gave Zhang Guorong—Ah Rong considered its completion over 90%, but not perfect. There were some flaws due to transplanting Western elements into a local context, a limitation of his skill.

And that was even without Li Wenyu handling makeup or music.

In *The Pursuit of Happyness Behind the Clouds*, both the lead and his father had scenes involving American football teams—no problem in the U.S., but in Hong Kong Island, hardly anyone follows American football.

There were also jokes about fans causing trouble at games.

But now, with his screenwriting skill climbing to 79, he could modify and adapt better, like replacing American football with soccer… which was awkward because, in late 2001, the Chinese men’s soccer team was actually set to qualify for the World Cup the following year.

At worst, Hong Kong Island had some decent soccer players too.

Just as Li Wenyu was locking in ideas, Zhang Guorong smiled brightly. “Then I’m counting on you, Ah Yu. No rush, just give me a first draft in two or three months.”

“I’m not just asking you. It was the filming of *Tsim Sha Tsui by the Seaside* that was so magical, so I have the highest hopes for you.”

As he spoke, Ah Rong handed over a red envelope. “Here’s fifty thousand as your fee. Don’t refuse; we’re not short on this. The industry can be messy, but I’ve worked with Ah Hua for decades. We’ll definitely help you when needed.”

“As long as we don’t break the law, we can live honorably and beautifully, including with freedom.”

He didn’t know what else to say—not for lack of words, but because even the medical and scientific communities had no clue why Zhang Guorong’s condition was improving.

Everyone was still baffled, guessing and speculating.

Trying was trying. More methods meant more directions to explore.

Li Wenyu was a third-year undergraduate at the Beijing Film Academy, and not many outside knew much about him. But Zhang Guorong was already grateful for the serendipity of their meeting in this vast sea of people.

Suddenly, Zhang Guorong clapped his hands. “Oh, a month ago, I hired several screenwriters to help out. If there’s a good script, even if I don’t act in it, we can let Bing Bing choose a suitable role. I’ve noticed she has real talent.”

“Young actors with her skills are rare. A few days ago, I went to the set and felt she sometimes outshines Cecilia Cheung. She’s improved a lot since we started filming.”

No doubt about it—Pang Bing’s acting score had risen from 69 to 80!

Everyone was furiously pushing ahead in their respective paths.

Pang Bing quickly and politely expressed her gratitude. Zhang Guorong waved it off with a smile. “Ah Yu helped me compete for awards—and might even make quite a bit of money for us. By some twist of fate, he’s eased my condition so much. We’re all family here; no need for formalities.”

Li Wenyu was still just an undergraduate in his third year at the Beijing Film Academy. Few knew much about him, but Zhang Guorong felt lucky to have met him amidst the crowd.