Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 18 It's Easy to Invite Gods

The moment the door was pushed open, all sound in the conference room came to an abrupt halt.

A solitary, crisp sound pierced the stagnant air—it was Chen Yan's leather shoe heel striking a cold note on the terrazzo floor.

Like a sharp blade drawn from its sheath, he walked straight in, meeting the two gazes that seemed to pierce through him at the end of the long table.

The long wooden table was filled with people sitting on both sides.

At the head of the table, Vice Principal Yan Huaizhong held a thermos cup in his hand, the lid of which was slightly ajar, revealing the yellowed tea stems inside.

He leaned back in his chair, like a silent sculpture.

Opposite him stood a man in a dark gray cashmere coat, his hair neatly combed, a tung oil cigarette between his fingers.

Lu Haiming.

The boss of Haiming Film and Television, the culprit who drove Chen Yan into a dead end in his previous life.

He is thinner now than he will be twenty years from now, but his determination to succeed is exactly the same.

"Now that the main character has arrived, let's begin."

Lu Haiming placed the cigarette horizontally on the table and gently tapped it with his fingers.

He didn't even look Chen Yan in the eye; his attitude was as if he were discussing a small business deal that he could easily crush.

In the shadows of the corner, Qi Feng half-hidden himself. When he saw Chen Yan enter, he unconsciously clenched the stack of printed papers on his knees.

"Chen Yan".

Yan Huaizhong spoke up, slamming the thermos down on the table with a loud thud that made Qi Feng's shoulder tremble violently.

"Someone filed a formal complaint with the school council and the film bureau against the film negative of your movie 'The Night Watchman,' alleging that you instigated actors to commit real acts of violence and maiming, and that you possessed prohibited film negatives."

Yan Huaizhong pushed the whistleblower letter on the table. "The letter is here, along with a backup of the materials that were 'urgently recalled' from the photo lab. What do you have to say?"

Chen Yan didn't read the letter; instead, he pulled out a wooden chair and sat down.

The chair leg scraped against the ground with a grating "screech," a sound that made one's teeth ache.

"Everything is here, let's take a look."

Chen Yan's voice was hoarse as he took out a pack of Zhonghua cigarettes from his pocket, opened it, and threw it on the table.

He knew that saying a single word now would be pointless.

"Principal Yan, to be on the safe side, the staff from the Second Division are also here."

Lu Haiming raised his chin at the two men in uniforms in the corner.

The two remained silent, holding pens in their hands, their notebooks already open.

"Look at the film."

Lu Haiming made a gesture.

Behind the conference room, the old projector creaked in protest, and the smell of ozone filled the air.

Qi Feng stood up, his movements somewhat stiff.

He took several heavy film canisters from a blue and white striped bag and skillfully threaded the film guides onto the guide rollers.

In the dim light, you could see a fine layer of sweat on his forehead.

"This is the 'violent incident in the rainy night' mentioned in the whistleblower letter."

Qi Feng's voice was somewhat shrill as he pressed the start button.

The motor started up, and the lights went out.

A beam of snow-white light shone on the curtain.

Lu Haiming leaned back slightly, sinking into the soft chair back.

He's already brainstorming headlines for tomorrow's newspaper: "Beijing Film Academy prodigy's dream shattered, bloody film reveals director's violent nature."

The screen went black for a few seconds at first.

The scene that appeared immediately plunged the entire conference room into an eerie silence.

The scene is shaky and the environment is dark, but it's not a rainy night outside a convenience store; it's a room in a cheap hotel.

In the footage, Qi Feng's face was crystal clear.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, opposite a man in a suit with a protruding belly.

"Director Qi, President Lu instructed that as long as Chen Yan's film doesn't get the Dragon Seal, those two internship spots at Beijing Film Academy, and your apartment in Tianjin..." The man in the suit took out a wad of banknotes tied with a rubber band from his bag and pushed it over.

Qi Feng on the screen smiled, stretched out the hand that usually pointed the way out of the classroom, and greedily touched the banknotes.

"Don't worry, Mr. Lu. I have the negatives; he can't do anything about it."

The noise was deafening, but in the deathly silent conference room, every word felt like a heavy hammer blow.

"Snapped!"

The thermos cup tipped over.

Hot water is flowing everywhere.

Yan Huaizhong, however, seemed to be nailed to his chair.

Qi Feng felt as if his bones had been instantly drained, and he slid off the side of the projector, crashing into a wooden stool with a dull thud.

"Wrong one! This isn't it!"

He roared and lunged at the machine with both hands and feet, his movements frantic.

The hem of my clothes snagged the film reel, and with a "snap," my hope was broken.

The ticking sound of the idling machine was his death knell.

The projector bulb flickered twice and then went out completely.

In the darkness, only the whirring of the projector could be heard, sounding like a cruel mockery.

Chen Yan remained seated, touched the pack of cigarettes, but still didn't light it.

With proper editing, who can tell whether these old-fashioned proofs are "prohibited material" or "reports filed under real names"?

He simply had Big Pipe rent a room next door and, incidentally, feed that gambler, Baldy Li a little something.

"Principal Yan, it seems there's a slight 'error' in the contents of the whistleblower letter."

Chen Yan's voice rang out in the darkness, steady and measured, "I didn't see any prohibited content, but I did see some things that damage the school's reputation. Should we have the comrades from the Second Division take this 'unusual footage' back for some repairs?"

Lu Haiming's unlit cigarette had been snapped in half at some point, and bits of tobacco fell all over his pants.

He was a smart man; the moment the image appeared, he knew he had been outmaneuvered.

But he didn't move or say anything.

At this point, it is necessary to sacrifice a pawn to save the king.

"Qi Feng!"

Yan Huaizhong slammed his fist on the table, his voice booming in the darkness, "Explain yourself!"

"Principal...that's a composite! It was that beast Chen Yan who used computer effects to create it!"

Qi Feng collapsed to the ground, his voice trembling with sobs.

Chen Yan chuckled lightly, with a hint of sarcasm: "Teacher Qi, this is 2000, not 2020. If this were really special effects, I wouldn't need to send this film to Cannes; I could just sell it to Industrial Light & Magic as a package deal, and Spielberg would have to hire me as a technical consultant."

Chen Yan suddenly added a sentence.

A sudden commotion came from outside the door.

The conference room door was kicked open, and several beams of flashlight light shone in.

Two burly men from the security office were dragging a man who looked like a thug.

The man had never seen anything like this before. The flashlight beam blinded him, and his legs went weak.

"Distinguished leaders, I...I'm here to present a banner of appreciation!"

He had a mournful face, clutching a red silk cloth in his hand with four large golden characters on it: "Heroic Acts for a Just Cause".

"Director Chen! I'm so grateful you pulled me out of my way yesterday! I was blinded by greed and got into a fight with someone. They pulled out a knife and tried to stab me. If you hadn't blocked it, I would have lost my kidney!"

He shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice so loud that the whole floor could hear him.

This was Chen Yan's backup plan.

violent tendencies?

No, it's about acting bravely and righteously.

Bloody negative?

No, it was an emergency rescue drill conducted by the film crew.

Qi Feng's "evidence" became a slap in the face that smeared his own reputation.

"Comrades from the Second Division, this matter isn't under our school's jurisdiction anymore, is it?"

Yan Huaizhong stood up, straightening his soaked trousers, his tone icy.

The two uniformed officers exchanged a glance, put away their notebooks, and walked up to Qi Feng: "Director Qi, please come with us regarding that sum of money and that house. As for the whistleblower letter... its logic is questionable."

When Qi Feng was taken away, his toes left two glaring scratches on the ground.

He passed by Chen Yan, his lips moving, but Chen Yan just kept his head down, fiddling with his Nokia phone, without giving him a single glance.

Lu Haiming stood up and elegantly patted the cigarette ash off his coat.

"Chen Yan, not bad."

He walked to Chen Yan's side, his voice low so only the two of them could hear, "But this is just the beginning. The road to Cannes is long, and the domestic market isn't something you can just decide by winning an award."

Mr. Lu, whether the road is long or short depends on whether the shoes fit.

Chen Yan finally raised his head, his gaze as calm as a deep pool, reflecting Lu Haiming's cold face. "These shoes you call 'market' may trip up many people, but my path is not limited to China. The red carpet of Cannes is wider than the road beneath your feet."

Lu Haiming didn't say anything more and pushed the door open to leave.

A moment later, the roar of an Audi A6 engine echoed downstairs, then disappeared into the winter rain.

Only Chen Yan and Yan Huaizhong remained in the conference room.

It got completely dark.

The smell of smoke in the conference room hadn't dissipated yet when Yan Huaizhong let out a long sigh, as if he'd escaped death: "You were walking a tightrope. If the film had really broken just now, even a god couldn't have saved you from Qi Feng's attack."

"If it's broken, it's broken. There are ways to play even when it's broken."

Chen Yan smiled and took out the torn film head from his pocket. "Principal, the real negatives were sent to the embassy for notarization by Sister Lin Shufen yesterday. Everything here is indeed 'waste film'."

Yan Huaizhong was stunned, then shook his head with a wry smile: "You little rascal, you're even more cunning than me."

……

Chen Yan walked out of the administration building, where Su Wan was waiting at the bottom of the steps, holding his old overcoat.

She hunched her neck, and her breath clung to the cold air.

Upon seeing Chen Yan, she immediately ran over: "How are you? They didn't give you any trouble, did they?"

Chen Yan took the coat and draped the still-warm fabric over her reddened shoulders.

That warmth dispelled the lingering tobacco and chill of humanity in the conference room.

"It's alright," he said, putting his arm around her, his voice gentler than ever before. "Come on, let's go home."

He didn't say he wanted to see his uncle or eat noodles; he only said "go home."

Su Wan's body trembled slightly, and her usually bright eyes instantly became misty.

She didn't press him about the tense atmosphere in the meeting room, but instead buried her face in his tobacco-scented, chilly embrace, and whispered, "I...I cooked you noodles, and added two poached eggs."

It was as if those two fried eggs were the best reward she could give him in the whole world.

Her icy fingers slipped into his pocket and gripped him tightly, as if trying to transfer all her warmth to him.

The two walked along a path at Beijing Film Academy, where several freshmen carrying water bottles passed by, laughing and joking.

That night, the lights at the end of the hospital corridor were a stark white.

Chen Yan leaned against the wall and sent a message to Lin Shufen.

[Sister Lin, could you help me find out about a film selector named "Pierre"? Is he being ostracized in Cannes recently by an Australian documentary filmmaker? If possible, could you increase our budget by 10% and use it where it's needed?]

After sending the message, he put away his phone and went into Su's father's hospital room.

The room was very warm, and Su Wan was sitting on the edge of the bed peeling an apple. A long strip of apple peel hung down without breaking.

This tranquility was something he had dreamed of holding onto in his past life.

It's snowing again outside the window.

The second snowfall in Yanjing.