"Li, how did your talk with Bronson go? He must have come to you to buy the film rights for your novel..." Gaius Hansen leaned in toward Li Kai and whispered his inquiry.
Li Kai smiled noncommittally, his tone flat. "We didn't reach an agreement. The talks fell through."
"Fell through?" Hansen was stunned and couldn't help but press further. "Was the price Fox offered too low?"
"That's not it," Li Kai shook his head. "We didn't even get to the point of talking about money."
"They fell through before you even started talking about the price?" Hansen grew more confused. "Then what was it about?"
"Because I proposed to be the director myself," Li Kai said nonchalantly. "I said that if 'The Godfather' is to be filmed, it must be directed by me. However, Fox couldn't accept that condition."
Gaius Hansen froze on the spot, his mouth hanging open, unable to speak for a moment.
He instantly understood the reason for the breakdown of the negotiations.
If he were sitting in the position of a Fox executive, he probably would never agree to such an 'outrageous' request from an inexperienced newcomer... The next morning, Prue Bronson sought out Li Kai again, trying to persuade him to accept Fox's terms.
"Mr. Li Kai, after a night of urgent consultations, we at Fox have shown our greatest sincerity." He got straight to the point, his tone eager. "We are willing to offer two hundred thousand dollars for a one-time buyout of the film rights for 'The Godfather'. This is absolutely an industry record-breaking offer, showing unprecedented respect for a debut author."
He paused briefly, observing Li Kai's reaction, and continued to raise the stakes: "Not only that, but we also sincerely invite you to join the screenwriting team and will pay you a generous separate fee of fifty thousand dollars for it. This ensures your voice is integrated into the script. Furthermore, after the film's release, you will also enjoy backend profit-sharing based on box office performance."
"Please believe me," Bronson spread his hands, painting an enticing picture. "With Fox's resources, we will equip 'The Godfather' with Hollywood's top directors and the biggest box-office stars. This will be a grand production destined to go down in history, and your work will receive its most brilliant presentation. It's a win-win situation where you take almost no risk and share in all the success and glory."
Li Kai couldn't help but curl his lip. As far as he knew, 20th Century Fox had paid a staggering 1 million dollars for the rights to film 'cleopatra', a jaw-dropping figure at the time.
Of course, 200,000 dollars for a newcomer author was indeed very sincere. Regarding the cost of adaptation rights for a'single novel' before 'cleopatra', 1953's 'The Robe' (100,000 dollars) had been the record-setter of its era.
Unfortunately, Li Kai still wanted to be the director.
Becoming the director was the only way to maximize his own interests. It wasn't just about fame and fortune; it was about creative control and the final presentation.
Li Kai could not entrust the fate of 'The Godfather' to anyone else.
He simply didn't trust any director of this era to truly film 'The Godfather' well. Even the director of the classic version from his previous life had not yet grown to a stage where he could handle such a complex narrative, so he naturally wouldn't be up to the task either.
Only Li Kai himself had absolute certainty in perfectly recreating this masterpiece.
This certainty came from a dual guarantee: first, he had already "watched" that legendary film template in his mind, knowing everything from the narrative rhythm and visual style to the essence of the performances; second, the original owner of this body possessed an astounding directing talent, as if he were born for the screen.
Not to mention that during these past few months on the chaotic yet precious set of 'cleopatra', he had been absorbing, digesting, and practicing every moment. From Mankiewicz's refinement of dialogue to the logic of managing grand scenes, he had tempered his theoretical knowledge into executable directing skills.
Clearly, the negotiation fell into a deadlock once again without any suspense.
Li Kai's attitude didn't waver in the slightest; his persistence was like an insurmountable barrier.
By this point, Bronson and 20th Century Fox also fully realized a fact: there was a fundamental divergence in the two sides' philosophies, and any further consultation would be futile.
Thus, after repeated weighing of options, Fox finally made what seemed like a safer commercial decision, which was to give up on acquiring the film rights for 'The Godfather'... Before long, news of the failed negotiation spread like wildfire throughout the crew.
At the same time, many people also found out why the negotiations had broken down.
Behind his back, many mocked Li Kai for overestimating himself and being arrogant.
A twenty-year-old newcomer actually wanted to direct a major production? Wasn't that laughable?
"Ha! An arrogant kid who doesn't know the height of the sky! Just because he wrote a bestseller, he thinks he can handle all of Hollywood? Fox did a great job!" In his private dressing room, Richard Burton took a sip of chilled beer and sneered with a face full of mockery, feeling extremely satisfied inside.
In any case, he just couldn't stand to see Li Kai succeed.
Now that Li Kai hadn't reached a deal with Fox, he didn't have much to worry about anymore.
Consequently, during the afternoon shoot, when Li Kai accurately conveyed Director Mankiewicz's blocking requirements, Burton deliberately pretended not to hear.
"Mr. Burton, your blocking needs to be adjusted," Li Kai reminded him calmly out of duty.
Burton turned abruptly, his tone full of provocation: "No, I think it's more appropriate to perform it this way! Do you even understand acting?"
Li Kai frowned slightly, suppressing the displeasure rising in his heart. He was increasingly loathing these superstars who relied on their status and disregarded the overall requirements of the shoot.
"Mr. Burton, the camera is set in this direction. Entering from this angle will give the shot more depth..." Li Kai still tried to explain to him from a professional perspective.
As a result, before he could finish his sentence, there was a sharp 'crack'!
In front of everyone, Richard Burton slammed the prop wine glass in his hand heavily onto the ground, fragments flying everywhere.
"Enough! You're an assistant, not a director! Since when is it your turn to tell me, Richard Burton, how to act?! Put away your self-righteous theories. This is a film set, not your study where you write novels!!!" he roared loudly, looking like an angry lion.
Goodfellas, everyone was stunned.
The entire set was silent; filming came to a complete halt.
Li Kai's face was cold as he suppressed his rage: "I am merely conveying Director Mankiewicz's requirements."
"I think those damn reporters have gone to your head! Who do you think you are?!" Burton pressed closer, refusing to let it go.
The heated argument drew Mankiewicz and the producers over. In the end, the conflict concluded with Mankiewicz forcibly ordering Burton to calm down and rest, but hours of precious filming time had been wasted again.
Back in the break area, his colleague Gaius Hansen patted Li Kai's shoulder and comforted him: "Don't take it to heart, Li. I think Richard Burton has probably had too much to drink today. When he sober's up and calms down, he'll realize his mistake..."
Li Kai nodded and said no more.
He thought to himself that while he didn't want to cause trouble, if someone didn't mess with him, he wouldn't mess with them. But if Richard Burton insisted on making trouble for him, then he wouldn't be polite either!Producer Prue Bronson forced down the anxiety gnawing at him and, keeping his composure, pulled Richard Burton aside for a private talk.
"Richard, for God's sake, we have to keep this picture on schedule. The studio has tens of millions invested—every day's delay bleeds money. I'm begging you, curb the temper and play along. As for Li Kai… he's only an assistant, not worth the fireworks." Bronson pleaded, appealing to both reason and sentiment.
Richard Burton listened, muttering a perfunctory, "All right, Prue, I hear you. I won't let personal feelings get in the way."
Yet inside, reluctance and fury churned. He hadn't lost all sense; he knew Li Kai was popular on set. If he kept attacking the man without cause, he'd look an irrational boor, a liability to the very star image he so carefully curated.
Still, swallowing the insult felt impossible.
Around two o'clock Mankiewicz summoned Li Kai and Burton. His manner was blunt, his warning fierce: "I don't care what private grievances you have—leave them outside my set! In front of my lens there are only actors and crew, no enemies. Whoever wastes one precious minute of my shooting time will be asked to leave—immediately! This picture can't take any more chaos."
"Director, you know me. Whatever happens, work comes first." Li Kai's tone was calm, steady, matter-of-fact.
Mankiewicz studied him and, inwardly, had to agree. He knew better than anyone that the quarrel sprang solely from Burton's jealous tantrums; Li Kai had simply done his job and been dragged in.
Mankiewicz turned to Richard Burton.
Burton gave a surly grunt—reluctant assent.
But the jealousy did not die; it flared hotter.
He decided Elizabeth Taylor had to be kept away from Li Kai, only then could he feel secure.
When shooting wrapped he went to her, saying he needed to talk.
They slipped into a secluded dressing room, once their favorite trysting place.
Click.
The door locked.
"Richard, what is it?" Taylor leaned back in her chair, languid.
"Taylor, I want you to stay away from that Li Kai," Burton burst out, cataloguing the man's supposed sins. "Can't you see? That Chinese kid's cunning—he shows off with clever little lines, grows more arrogant every day, ignores even me! He's using you, courting your fame to boost himself. Keep clear, don't be fooled by his humble act!"
Elizabeth Taylor was unmoved. She loathed being told what to do; the tirade backfired.
She met his gaze, voice icy. "Richard, I find Li interesting. He's talented, and unlike some people he isn't drunk and ranting all day. Besides, I'll talk to whomever I please—no one orders me."
Her retort stabbed like a knife, shredding Burton's last shred of reason.
"Freedom???" he shouted, jealousy exploding. "You're defending him! Do you fancy that pretty boy? Because he wrote some little book and spouts a few fine phrases?"
"You're impossible!" Taylor blazed, violet eyes afire. "Who do you think you are, interrogating me? There's nothing between Li Kai and me—but the way you're behaving now disgusts me."
In show business, set couples are common: during a shoot people pair off to ease stress and physical needs, tacit, temporary.
Once filming ends they go their separate ways and the bond quietly dissolves.
At present she and Richard Burton were just such a couple.
If it grew deeper, that would be another matter.
But right now Taylor felt he was overstepping, acting as if she were his official girlfriend—or wife.
Burton, stung pride smarting, raged at her. In the cramped dressing room their quarrel erupted.
And dressing-room walls are thin; voices carried.
Crew members glanced about, afraid to approach yet eager to listen. The star-studded spat rippled through the set like wildfire.
"Get the director and producer—Taylor and Burton are at it in the makeup room!"
"What happened? Weren't they fine this morning?"
"Who knows… sounds vicious."
In minutes the grapevine had it: Burton was seething with jealousy, and Taylor seemed taken with the new Chinese writer, Li Kai.
Raging Fire—love triangle!
The onlookers thrilled to the drama.
Producer Prue Bronson arrived, face etched with worry.
How could they shoot cleopatra if its leading man and woman were at war?
Indeed, they couldn't.
The already fragile schedule froze as the stars' feud went public.
Director Mankiewicz went livid, but there was nothing he could do.
Prue Bronson was near breakdown; headquarters berated him mercilessly.
He tried to placate both sides, with little success.
The storm could not be contained within Cinecittà Studios. Crew gossip leaked everywhere.
Entertainment reporters caught the scent; stories of strife on cleopatra splashed across front pages.
The Hollywood Reporter blared: "War on cleopatra set! Burton and Chinese writer feud over Taylor!"
Variety was more theatrical: "Real life outdoes the film! Jealous Burton halts cleopatra as love triangle explodes!"
Tabloids painted Li Kai as a mysterious Eastern lover rising by talent and charming superstars.
The stories spread like wildfire, jumping from entertainment to culture sections. Li Kai's name surged again—this time entangled in salacious rumor—shocking Hollywood and American literary circles alike.
Li Kai found himself at the center of the storm. On set he felt stares: curious, probing, sympathetic, even leering.
He was overwhelmed by the absurdity and helplessness of it all.
"Damn it, this is insane—utter disaster. When did I ever fight Burton over Taylor? Slander, pure slander! If it were true, fine—hooking a star like Taylor wouldn't be bad. But I haven't even touched her hand. What a rotten deal!" he groaned inwardly.