When I Was Making a Movie in the Republic of China, All the Foreign Powers Knelt Down.

[Poison-tongued madman + dimensionality reduction attack + entertainment in the Republic of China to save the country] Gu Shuangge had three nicknames in the literary and artistic circles of the Republic of China: tyrant on the set, mad dog in the literary world, and nemesis of foreigners. When he was filming on the set, the actor would rather be slapped than be ungrateful for the third time. He opened a column in a newspaper, scolding compradors, warlords, and rotten literati. After reading this, leading literary figures exclaimed: "I have written articles all my life, but I can't be as happy as he scolded him in half a page!" He publicly humiliated foreign singers at the Paramount, knocked Hollywood directors speechless at the European Film Festival, and declared in front of the whole world that Chinese culture does not need anyone's charity. No one knows that he has hundreds of years of movies, music and all the memories hidden in his mind. They only saw a madman who started out with scrapped cameras and in just a few years created an Eastern entertainment empire that kept Hollywood giants awake at night. Some people hated him to the core, compradors placed a bounty on his head, warlords wanted his name, and the great powers set up secret committees to kill him. Some people died for him, a student worker, a rickshaw driver, spent all his money to buy his construction bonds, a progressive actress was willing to risk her life for his movie, and a martial arts master defended him from seven assassinations in the dark night. "How many oceans is your backbone worth?" The comprador tycoon asked him with a sneer. He picked up the camera and focused the lens on this sleeping era: "Every frame captured by this machine is more valuable than your life."