Legend of the Hulan River Screenplay by Baihua；《October》Literary Bimonthly，Nov.1,1994 （beiqian 中译英） PART ONE [Fade In] We see a photograph of a woman (Xiao Hong). In it she is sitting on the ground, her head is slighted tilted. She has her head tilted and her hair is braided with two bows on each side. Her eyes are hidden under the shadow of her bangs. …… [Voice over starts] “The little town of Hulan River. In earlier days (x)it was where my grandpa lived. It is where he buried. When I was born, my grandpa was already over sixty. By the time I was five, he was almost seventy. When I turned twenty, grandpa was over eighty. Soon after that, he died.”
Cool grey winter, steel grey dawn, iron grey sky and ground.
Though the Hulan River is frozen, its inherent force and energy remain the same. It is long silver body coursing eastward across the black earth with epic poise. Snow drifts through the air. Seven carriages, each one following closely behind the other, race through the open wilderness. Their lanterns echoing the flicker of the distant stars. The sound of the drivers’ whips crack loud and clear in the crisp night air. Appear a pair of two huge, round, innocent eyes of a little girl. This is Naiying between the ages of five and six. Her head and neck are wrapped three times in a long scarf, its fringes drag on the ground. She peers around the doorway carefully before she makes up her mind to venture into the street. Like an unrestrained ball of energy without any clear destination in mind, Naiying is free. The caravan rushes past Naiying, leaving behind them a cloud of rising dust. A young apprentice, shivering and sniffling in the cold, sees them approach and quickly moves to open the door to the inn just in time as they round the corner into the courtyard. “Welcome! Come in and warm yourselves,” said the inn keeper as he steps forward to welcome the cart-drivers. “Good heavens. What terrible weather! The cold feels like daggers piercing my skin,” groans one of the drivers. The frozen men file into the inn and begin removing their fur hats and sweeping the snow from their clothes. Each start rubbing their cold hands together and some grope with numb fingers to make sure their ears and noses were still attached. One fellow with a full beard looks around the room in search of a broom. He finds one and starts to sweep the ice from his frosty face. Just as he finishes, he turns his head and sees behind him a small girl with a pair of big round eyes staring at him. “Little girl,” said the bearded man, “can you tell me if my ears or nose are still there?” “No.” The little girl shakes her head with a smile. “Really?” He asked. The girl shakes her head again. “Incredible. Ears can be cut off by coldness!” Exclaimed the bearded man，“Do you believe it?” The little girl shakes her head once more. “You don’t believe it? My fingers were nearly cut off! You see?” He holds up bent fingers and pretends that they have been torn off. The little girl squirms and twists up her face in shock. Then she sees that the man is smiling as he all of a sudden extends his hand to show Naiying that his ten fingers are all still attached. Naiying looks relieved but a little disappointed. The men burst into laughter so loud it could have blown the roof off. At that moment the apprentice sets a large pile of hot steaming buns onto a table. One pair after another, the large chapped hands of the drivers reach for the buns. Outside, the street is covered with thick slippery ice. “Bean curd！Bean curd！” Cries a merchant holding a square wooden tray full of bean curd for sale. The soles of his shoes are coated in snow and ice as he carefully makes his way across the slippery street. Despite his slow and cautious determination, he still slips and falls. When he finally manages to stand up again, he attempts to pick up his tray only to discover it has already frozen to the ground. He tries with all his might to pry it up but to no avail. Naiying is leaning with her back against the wall, absorbed in the unfortunate state of affairs in front of her. Her big eyes, peeking through the scarf, look deeply worried for the bean curd peddler. Then，appears an old man carrying a wooden case on his back. “Steaming buns！ Steaming hot buns! Big buns! ” Shouts the old man. He sees the bean curd peddler trying to pick up the tray and shakes his head in sympathy. “Little Ding-San,” says the old man, “I wish I could help you but you’ll have to find a shovel and try to knock it free of the ice. It doesn’t pay to rush. How could you have been so careless? You must watch your step, or you will be done for…” But before he could get all his words out the old man fell down with a loud crash that sent his buns flying all over the streets. As he struggled to get up, a passerby seized the opportunity to grab a few buns, stuff them in his mouth and hurry off in the other direction. Naiying is beside herself as she watches the stranger run away with the buns. The old bun seller gets up and starts to pick up his snow covered buns only to discover there are less than there should be. “What a cold day.” Says the old man as he watches the backside of the thief disappear into the distance. “Even the village spirit wants to eat my buns.” The street spectators start laughing but Naiying doesn’t. Instead she looks up at the old man with big wild eyes alarmed that he doesn’t realize his buns were taken by the man who ran away. She looks at the old man and starts to shake her head. “Is that not the village spirit?” Asks the old man when he notices Naiying’s distress. “Yes. It is little girl. It is the village spirit who ate my buns ...” Naiying again shakes her head. The old man puts the case on his back again and begins to walk away slowly as the ice on his ever whiter beard grows thicker. The steam coming off of his shabby cap turns into frost instantly. His miserable face beams with a tolerant smile. Naiying watches as the old man gingerly walks away with one small cautious step after another. She turns and suddenly sees the tall shape of her grandpa standing beside her. “Young child,” says her grandpa holding her up with both arms, “how did you slip out into the street when the door is sealed by ice and snow?” Naiying blinks her eyes with a questioning look. “Grandpa, I saw clearly it was that man who took the buns. Why did he keep saying the village spirit ate it?” Grandpa’s smiles and looks down at her with childlike eyes. Naiying looks up with her big eyes waiting for an answer. Then suddenly from Naiying’s eyes flows out the Hulan River. “Ting-ting；Ting-ting.” The falling ice drops melt into running water, rolling and cascading with a symphony of sound. [The movie’s name appears on screen.] “Legend Of The Hulan River” …… …… [ Voice over by Xiao-Hong.] “Grandpa, the backyard and me, together hold great significance to me.” …… …… It is a fine day. Two straw hats can be seen in the backyard. One big and one small. As grandpa is seen sowing the field with vegetable seeds, Naiying tags along behind him trampling on each hole with her little feet. Up and down, random and without care, she kicks the earth and sends the seeds flying all over. With even temper, grandpa turns round and looks at her with the hearty smile of a child as usual. Naiying looks up at her grandpa reluctantly and keeps kicking the ground. PART TWO …… 【All Copyright Reserved；欢迎转载，但须注明出处。】
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