The next day, Luke's studio staff arrived in Beijing.
Leading the group was Bob, a stuntman from team—the same one who loved to mix English into his sentences.
With Jackie's help, six stunt performers officially joined Luke's studio, forming the foundation of his very first action team.
Several crew members who had worked with him on Jurassic Park 3 also came aboard. Luke never forgot the kindness they had shown him back then, and now that he had the means, he made sure to bring them in with generous pay.
This advance team was enough to support the early production work for Hero.
After introducing them to Director Zhang Mou, Luke and Mr. Eisen boarded a plane back to New York.
He'd return once filming officially began.
For now, he had another task—settling the casting for Pirates of the Caribbean.
"Wait, that's it? We're done already?" Luke looked at the contract in disbelief. "I thought there'd be way more hoops to jump through."
"Only small-time actors have to worry about that," Mr. Eisen said with a chuckle.
"I'm not a small-time actor? I was honestly worried I wouldn't get the role."
"The issue before wasn't your talent or fame—it was your Asian heritage," Eisen explained. "Once that was cleared up, and with my connections and your financial backing, everything went smoothly. Of course," he added teasingly, "you're still technically a small-time actor."
Luke's studio had also invested part of the film's budget, making them one of the co-producers of Pirates of the Caribbean. That made a lot of things much simpler.
"I heard Anne Hathaway's playing Elizabeth, right?" Luke confirmed. "That's perfect. Having her as my on-screen partner will make the romance way more believable for the audience."
Because of Luke's involvement, Pirates of the Caribbean's casting had veered off its original historical path.
Orlando Bloom, known for playing Legolas in The Lord of the Rings, lost the role of Will Turner.
And Anne Hathaway replaced Keira Knightley—Britain's beloved "English Rose"—as Elizabeth Swann.
"When does filming start?" Luke asked, clearly eager.
"November," Eisen replied.
That was a relief—he had asked Eisen to help move up production by three months.
That meant Pirates of the Caribbean could hit theaters in time for Christmas 2002—his best shot at topping the box office that year.
If they missed that window, he'd have to face the unbeatable The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King in 2003.
Hearing this, Luke finally relaxed.
The timing worked out perfectly. Between now and November, he could focus entirely on Hero.
Everything lined up just right.
"Disney has a small request," Eisen added. "It's not written into the contract, but you should probably do it."
"What kind of request?" Luke asked.
"They really liked the short film you and Anne Hathaway did—The Diary That Began in the Past."
"So?"
"They want you two to collaborate again. Another romantic short film—something to reinforce your on-screen chemistry and boost both your popularity. You're both still newcomers, after all."
"Got it," Luke said casually.
"So… are you in or not?"
"Not doing it!"
"Huh?"
"No way!" Luke laughed. "Get in touch with Anne Hathaway. I'll handle the script myself."
Finally, the filming day arrived.
The new short film was titled The Lake House—a story told entirely from Anne's point of view.
It opened with a foggy morning by the sea, where the sky and water blended into a soft gray.
A bright red beach house stood out against the muted backdrop.
Built on wooden stilts, the small cabin hovered gracefully above the sand, connected to a long concrete road stretching out toward the horizon.
Beside the house stood a single bare tree, a lonely streetlamp, and a charming red mailbox.
Anne, dragging her suitcase, stepped out of the house.
She was leaving today—leaving behind a place that had given her both happiness and heartbreak.
She slipped a letter into the red mailbox, then walked away, her lonely figure fading down the road.
Cut to Luke, who arrived sometime later, luggage in hand.
After settling in, he opened the red mailbox and found the letter inside.
He unfolded it curiously.
To the new tenant:
Hello, and please forgive me for not knowing how to address you.
I'm the previous resident of this house.
For personal reasons, I have to leave.
But there's someone very important to me who might send letters here.
If you ever receive one, could you please forward it to 332 Douglaston Street?
Oh, and about the paw prints near the door—they were already there when I moved in.
I never got around to cleaning them off, but I've grown to like them. Maybe you will too.
– Anne November 22, 2001
Luke frowned as he finished reading.
Was this a prank?
It was clearly 1999—and there weren't any paw prints on the door. The place was spotless.
Maybe the previous tenant was just… eccentric?
Later that day, he stopped by a small convenience store to pick up some essentials.
"Hey," he asked the store owner casually, "that beach house down the road—what was the last tenant like?"
The owner gave him a funny look. "What are you talking about? You're the first person to ever live there."
"Really?"
"Of course! That house was just built last month."
That confirmed it—it had to be a joke.
On his way home, Luke noticed a scruffy little dog following him.
Feeling sorry for it—and a little lonely himself—he decided to take the dog in.
The next day, while painting over the faded wood by the door, the puppy accidentally knocked over the paint bucket.
Before Luke could react, the little thing had dashed through the doorway, leaving a trail of gray paw prints across the porch.
He froze.
The letter's words echoed in his head:
"About the paw prints near the door—they were already there when I moved in… I think they're kind of cute."
What kind of cause-and-effect paradox was this?
She mentioned the prints, and now they appeared?
Intrigued, Luke wrote a reply and dropped it into the mailbox.
Dear Miss Anne,
Hello. You said you were the previous tenant, but this house was only built last month. I'm its very first resident.
You might've sent your letter to the wrong address—please double-check so you don't miss the one you're waiting for.
Also, it's 1999 right now, not 2001. Try not to mix that up next time.
– Luke November 23, 1999