Because Wang Xiaohu had fallen ill, thirteen-year-old Yuen Biao had no choice but to work as a stuntman on film sets to earn money for medicine every day. When Wang Xiaohu learned this, he was deeply moved. In his previous life, he had heard that the members of the "Seven Little Fortunes" were extremely united. Sammo Hung and Jackie Chan, after achieving fame, also went out of their way to recommend and support their brothers. Now, seeing it with his own eyes, he realized it was true—even a useless weakling like Yuen Hu could fall sick and still be cared for by Yuen Biao, who earned money to look after him.
It must be understood that working as a stuntman—known as "dragon and tiger martial artists"—was incredibly tough. In 1970s Hong Kong, it was considered a low-class job and even looked down upon. For example, in relationships, if the girl's family learned that the boy was a stuntman, they would strongly object. Not without reason—the work was exhausting and dangerous, and the pay was meager. A stuntman could be beaten up like a sandbag all day long, only to earn five Hong Kong dollars, not to mention the bruises and injuries. Hardship aside, the real problem was that the profession offered little to no future.
Though still young, Yuen Biao had a well-developed physique. In fact, most disciples trained by Yu Jim-yuen matured early. Despite poor diets, they always ate enough to fill their stomachs, and combined with rigorous daily training, their bodies grew strong. Just look at Sammo Hung, who was raised into a tall, heavyset figure.
After returning to Hong Kong, Yuen Biao first found Jackie Chan and Yuen Wah. At that time, Jackie Chan wasn't yet called Jackie Chan—he went by Yuen Lo or simply his real name, Chan Kong-sang. They hadn't followed Master Yu Jim-yuen to America but had instead, through the recommendation of Han Ying-chieh, joined Shaw Brothers film studio as stuntmen, also earning a daily wage of just five Hong Kong dollars. Once Yuen Biao found them, he naturally took up the same work, playing roles such as prisoners being executed, corpses, or henchmen being beaten up by the hero.
"Ah Biao, once my health recovers, I also want to work as a stuntman. Next time you see Yuen Lo, please put in a word for me," Wang Xiaohu said after much consideration.
In his past life, Wang Xiaohu had also worked in this very field. Of course, wages for stunt doubles were far higher then, and moreover, he had become known as the "King of Stunt Doubles," capable of pulling off many daring, high-risk moves.
Yuen Biao nodded. "Alright, but Ah Hu, you used to slack off a lot. I'm worried you won't be able to endure the hardship." His concern was reasonable. From what Wang Xiaohu had glimpsed in dreams, the original Yuen Hu often shirked training, and among the Seven Little Fortunes, his kung fu was the weakest. He had entered the troupe late, training under Yu Jim-yuen for only half a year before opera's decline.
Wang Xiaohu smiled. "Ah Biao, don't worry about that. I can endure hardship. Starting tomorrow, I'll resume training."
By "training," Wang Xiaohu did not mean the old routines of stretching, splits, vocal drills, and acrobatics that Master Yu taught. He had his own plan. In his previous life, he was a master of Wing Chun, as well as a practitioner of Jeet Kune Do. After being inspired by Bruce Lee's films, he had begged his family at the age of fifteen to send him to a Wing Chun school, where he trained diligently for over a decade. Naturally, he became extremely proficient. In fights or sparring, few could match him.
A brief self-check just now confirmed that this body of Yuen Hu's still had some redeeming qualities. Thanks to Yu Jim-yuen's harsh training methods—the cane and feather duster included—its ligaments were in better shape than his own in his past life. For someone like Wang Xiaohu, with ten years of training behind him, this was excellent news. It meant he could skip much of the foundational rebuilding. Tomorrow, he would begin his Wing Chun practice anew.
In those days, entertainment options were few. By eight o'clock at night, Wang Xiaohu and Yuen Biao were already in bed. Exhausted from the day's work, Yuen Biao fell asleep instantly. But Wang Xiaohu tossed and turned, unable to sleep. His mind was full, his heart restless, and above all—he was excited.
As a film industry worker, Wang Xiaohu had only ever been a stunt double, and just before his rebirth he had finally landed a minor villain role. Yet despite his humble position, he had studied Hong Kong cinema in depth—especially martial arts action films. Outside of training, his daily routine consisted of rewatching multiple movies, dissecting their choreography and fighting styles. After finishing each film, he would write detailed notes on the action design and the overall tone of the combat sequences.
Even if it was the same film watched over and over again, he always took notes. Then he would compare his earlier impressions with the later ones, analyzing the subtle shifts in his focus and understanding. He had maintained this practice from the day he started stunt work right up until his rebirth. His room had been piled high with boxes of manuscripts, his notes reaching a level of detail that rivaled professional analysis.
It was this accumulation of knowledge that gave Wang Xiaohu such a clear understanding of the Hong Kong film industry of the 1970s. At that time, the market was still dominated by period wuxia films. The most popular were the Huang Feihong series, often starring the "iron triangle" of Kwan Tak-hing, Sek Kin, and Cho Tat-wah.
From the perspective of someone from the future, however, Wang Xiaohu found these films painfully outdated. The choreography was stiff, the pacing slow, and fights often dragged on without a clear winner. What he admired instead was the sharp, explosive style of Bruce Lee or Donnie Yen. Jet Li's graceful, flowing movements were visually pleasing, but lacked the raw combat realism that created true visual impact—the aesthetic of violence that thrilled audiences to the core.
Two thoughts in particular kept Wang Xiaohu awake with excitement.
The first was the era itself. It was now late September 1971, just before the release of The Big Boss in October. Bruce Lee was about to ignite a global kung fu craze, writing the word "kung fu" into the English lexicon itself. And Wang Xiaohu knew another secret—Sammo Hung, Jackie Chan, and Yuen Wah had all taken part in films like Fist of Fury and Enter the Dragon. Jackie Chan had even doubled for Suzuki Kun in Fist of Fury, playing the man Bruce Lee famously side-kicked across the room. Sammo Hung fought Bruce Lee in the opening of Enter the Dragon, while Yuen Wah doubled for Lee's acrobatics in the same film.
If they could act alongside his idol, then surely he could too. Just imagining the chance to meet Bruce Lee in person filled Wang Xiaohu with a thrill he could barely contain. This was the main reason he insisted that Yuen Biao take him along as a stuntman.
The second thought was of the future. After Bruce Lee's untimely death, the Hong Kong film industry desperately tried to cultivate a successor. Sammo Hung, Jackie Chan, and Ho Chung-tao all seized that opportunity, carving out careers that would define an era. Sammo and Jackie in particular launched their legendary trajectories from this moment. As one of the Seven Little Fortunes himself—and a man reborn with knowledge of the future—Wang Xiaohu had no intention of letting this chance slip away.
In his previous life, he had worked himself to exhaustion and still failed to earn a director's recognition. But now, with such perfect conditions before him, he would not allow history to repeat itself. This time, he would seize his destiny. Resentment was gone—his mind was ablaze with plans, all focused on one thing: how to break into the industry as quickly as possible.