In-between supervising her American Chinese co-star, Ron W. Yuan, on the finer art of congee-eating, the Shanghai-born actress talks animatedly about the new ''feature'' which brought her to Hong Kong.

''It's called Supreme Warrior and directed by Guy Norris. Other actors involved are Richard Norton, Chuck Jeffries, Ron and his brother Roger,'' she says excitedly.

Guy Norris? Richard Norton? Chuck Jeffries? Not exactly the kind of names audiences have seen in the credits of Wu's films (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III, The Joy Luck Club, Heaven And Earth ) since she switched her attentions in the direction of Hollywood, are they? But this was a movie with a difference, she announces with smug smile. ''It's a CD-ROM interactive feature that's being developed for [electronic game giant] Sega by Digital Pictures. It's the latest technology. This is going to be so new!'' she says, with the bright eyes of a child who has just discovered a new toy.

''It is so different from what I've been doing before. The best way to describe this is 'point and shoot'. There aren't many close-ups because that interferes with the player's sight. Everything has to be done with minimum cuts and that requires a lot of skill on the part of the cameraman.

''He has to be almost as physical as we are. When we jump, he jumps and he has to remember every action so that he can react. And we're talking about a big cameraman here. He's really big. I have a lot of respect for him.

''But this kind of thing is so exciting because it involves you more than anybody. Viewers get involved because they are drawn into the game. They can choose a course of action. That's why we had to shoot three versions of everything. So everyone who watches it gets to be whoever - hunter, fighter, lover . . . You get to play the lead role.'' What Wu plays is a martial arts expert who leads a mission to recover a mystical mask that has been taken by an evil warlord (Roger Yuan). However, she gets injured early in the sequence and is relegated to the role of mentor and si fu (coach) of the protagonist who is controlled by the viewer.

''The master teaches the player how to fight, you know . . . punch, punch, punch,'' she says, demonstrating short jabs with her fist. ''In order to get the mask you have to get past four warlords and their bodyguards. You really have to punch, punch, punch.'' WHEN her agents first told her about the ''CD thing'', she did not have the faintest idea what they were on about.

''I was like, 'what CD thing?' I had never heard of anything like this before. But after they educated me about the whole new market and how it would be smart for us to get in now because there are so few Asian actresses who have the fighting background, I decided I would give it a try,'' says the 28-year-old who took karate lessons for her ''fight'' scenes in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III.

''I've always been interested in martial arts. My biggest fan is Jackie Chan,'' she adds, before dissolving in a whoop of laughter as she realises her gaffe. ''I mean, I am Jackie's biggest fan! I really love his movies.'' Her agents' opinion that it would be a ''smart move, good investment and a good learning experience'' finally persuaded her she could be sitting on a gold mine.

Wu, whose only claim to electronic game mastery is Super Mario Brothers, needed no further convincing when Norris placed her in front of a similar CD-I movie and she literally had to be pried from the machine when it was time to go.

''I really got into it. There are two faces and one of them's yours and when you see yourself getting punched, you get agitated. So you really want to go on. I was sitting in the office and I didn't want to leave, and I thought, if adults like me can get hooked for so many hours, think of what the kids would be like.

''Once the technology becomes a big thing, everyone will want to be involved because it goes directly into homes.'' ''You're a pioneer,'' Yuan teases between spoonfuls of congee.

''That's right. I'm a pioneer,'' Wu declares with an exaggerated puff of pride. ''But another plus for me in taking this job is also coming back to this part of the world. I mean I would do just about anything . . . I just want to come back!'' And, this is despite the fact that she had just finished filming part of a US mini-series The Vanishing Sun, which also featured Yuan, in the territory in January.

''Hong Kong is a very exciting place. The speed and the energy is just great,'' she enthuses. ''People are literally living through every minute. And the mobile phones and pagers . . . it really cracks me up! It's amazing.'' Her fondness for the territory does not stop her from missing the solitude of her life in Los Angeles when it all gets a little too much. ''But I'm lucky I can go both ways. I live in LA and when I get a job I can come here; then when I get dizzy from the pace, I can go back to the peace and quiet in LA,'' she says.

WU has taken to the US and the American culture like a fish to water. Her Shanghai roots are all but hidden under the surface of an effervescent all-American girl.

The only giveaway is her occasional lapses into Putonghua when she fails to find the English equivalent but then, Wu says, she always knew that her destiny lay not in Shanghai but abroad.

''My mother's an actress and I knew a lot about Hollywood even as I was starting out as an actress at 16,'' Wu continues.

Wayne Wang, Oliver Stone and even John Lone, were names that Wu had been familiar with long before she even dreamed of working with them, much less do so in reality.

''I felt very vaguely - but strongly - that I would be going [to Hollywood] and that's what I would be doing, so I started my acting career in Shanghai,'' she says.

It was by accident that Wu was discovered one day while she was visiting her mother on the set. ''Somebody saw me and recommended me to a director, and that's how everything started,'' she says.

With hindsight, Wu realises now that everything she did back in China was very basic education. ''It's like you have to get through primary school to get to secondary school. I knew it was just a stepping stone. I needed the experience to learn what film-making was about and I was extraordinarily addicted to it anyway,'' she says.

''I would call it my second life. I don't know what else I could be this excited over if I stopped acting.'' But it was The Last Emperor that finally opened Wu's eyes to the vastness of the world that lay before her. ''Everything was so detailed, so serious - and so much fun - so I said to myself that I needed to go somewhere else and start anew where no one knew me,'' she says.

Wu could see where her roles of happy-go-lucky teenagers would lead her in the Chinese market. ''In China, [the path] was already fixed. I would keep doing my roles and become another Gong Li or Liu Xiao-qing.

''I would maybe win an award or earn this amount of money. I would get criticised or praised. I could foresee it and, frankly, it lost a lot of colour for me,'' Wu recalls.

Besides that, a broken heart was also a major incentive in spurring her on her way to international stardom. ''I had a boyfriend then. We were both very young and we were hurting each other without knowing how to fix it. When you're 16, a broken love affair is like the end of the world. I wanted to be re-born,'' she adds.

So, with only US$300 to her name, Wu packed her bags for Hawaii in 1987 where she later won a scholarship to study Travel and Tourism at the Hawaii Pacific College.

''By my second year there, The Last Emperor had become such a big hit. I was nominated for Best Supporting Actress in Italy and had become well-known in Hawaii,'' she says.

The movie offers started pouring in and Wu found herself in the unusual position of not even having an agent or a manager to represent her during negotiations.

''It's all luck. It's all fated. You can't fight it,'' she interjects. ''And, I had already decided I would become a business person then!'' Wu said goodbye to her entrepreneurial dreams in 1989, quit school and moved to Los Angeles with a bagful of faith, naivete and dreams.

''It never once occurred to me not speaking fluent English would be a stumbling block. I always thought, 'If there's a will, there's a way'.

''But now, I tell people, you have to learn English before you come to America, or you can't do anything,'' she says, in faultless American English, evidence of her years of incessant practice.

''But at the time, it was like this voice inside me; this force that was pushing me on to the path to this day in my future. Looking back, I ask myself, would I do the same thing? I don't know.

''I see so many girls from China trying to make it outside and they were much, much better-known than I was in China. But five years ago, I just told myself to follow my intuition and go for it.'' Despite the fact that Asian roles in Hollywood movies were still mired in stereotypes - ''yeah, the typical bad guy roles, the computer brain nerd or the person in the Chinese laundry,'' adds Yuan - Wu remains optimistic that the market is opening up.

''I am an optimist. At the time I decided to go to Hollywood, it was a lot worse, but I predicted that in five years there would be a lot more roles for Asians and the gates would be totally open then. But then, who was I to predict anything?'' she asks wide-eyed.

While the gates have not been ''totally'' open, the martial arts trend and films like The Joy Luck Club have certainly played their part in breaking down some traditional stereotypical roles and Wu hopes that it will be a process that continues.

While Wu is a great fan of Hong Kong movies and does not rule out the possibility of working for a local production, she remains steadfastly adamant about her criteria.

''[Willie Chan and I] have to be very careful in choosing the first Hong Kong role that I do. I need a good part and good director and then I will consider it,'' Wu says.

''I suppose Hollywood has spoiled me in a way. I've done so many international films, I don't know if I want to be in a low-budget Hong Kong movie. I don't need that kind of experience. I want to do something tasteful or experimental, like this CD thing.'' In fact, Wu may be near to securing a Hong Kong deal but superstition prevents her from revealing more. ''I don't want to talk about it before I get the part. I've learnt from experience that you should only start smiling after you have collected your pay cheque,'' she says with a hint of embarrassment.

AFTER Hong Kong, Wu's next stop was Shanghai - where she currently is - to see her parents. Then it's back to the US and Vancouver for a television series for Universal.

Although The Vanishing Sun - originally eight two-hour episodes - has been picked up for a 32-episode television series, Wu says she is unlikely to continue with her role.

''My part has all been told. There's nothing more to say and, besides,'' she adds as an afterthought, ''I got killed off.

''Even if they wanted to bring me back, I think I'd rather be doing something else. But the good news is that they've cut a full-length feature film for Europe and Asia, so the show might probably make it here in autumn.'' And who knows? Wu herself might make it back to the territory before then. ''I really have this yuan [affinity] with Hong Kong, you know,'' she says conspiratorially.

''Some scenes from Iron The Silk were shot here. Shadow Of China, then The Vanishing Sun and now Supreme Warriors. We're talking an average of about a film a year. I thank God for giving me the chance to come back here to work every year.'' Hollywood has spoiled me in a way. I've done so many international films, I don't know if I want to be in a low-budget Hong Kong movie