Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 24: Crossing Redemption

The iron gate of the photo lab closed behind me with a dull thud, trapping the smell of chemicals inside.

Lin Shufen's high heels tapped out a clear rhythm on the gravel road.

She flicked a slender cigarette from the pack, held it between her fingers, but didn't light it.

"This elaborate scheme of yours doesn't sound like something taught at the Beijing Film Academy."

She looked at Chen Yan's profile.

"When Pierre left, he looked at you strangely, like you were a living devil."

"Directors and devils sometimes do the same thing."

Chen Yan's answer was carried away by the night wind.

"It's all about summoning spirits from memories."

He stopped and turned to Lin Qingqiu, who had remained silent.

The girl wore a large military coat, and the wind blew away the sharpness in her eyes, leaving only a stubborn obstinacy.

"My back is ruined."

Lin Qingqiu didn't ask about Cannes and went straight to the point.

"The doctor in the troupe said that if he jumps again, he'll be bedridden for the rest of his life."

Chen Yan nodded, not surprised.

"There is an old Chinese medicine doctor surnamed Zhou in Jishuitan who is skilled in acupuncture and can revitalize dead tendons."

"The process is unpleasant. With just one injection, you can feel the numbness even in the bone fragments."

"It's worth risking my life just to stand in the light."

"it is good."

Chen Yan took out a folded contract and a pen from his pocket.

"Sign it, then tear up that contract of servitude with the dance troupe. From today onwards, you belong to Xinghuo Films."

Lin Qingqiu took the contract, didn't even look at it, and signed his name at the end.

The pen tip was pressed so hard it almost tore through the back of the paper.

The group returned to the drafty house in Dashilan, where the sky was already turning gray.

The next morning, before the smell of coal smoke had dissipated, the publisher, Lao Xu, arrived.

He was hunched over, holding an enamel mug in his hands, his forehead covered in a layer of oily sweat.

"Director Chen, producer Su."

He pushed a new agreement onto the table, a smile creeping across his face.

"I was blind before, Lao Xu. Sister Lin has spoken: the global agent will take 15% of the commission, and our company will cover all public relations expenses. We will not take advantage of you in the slightest."

Su Wan sat at the table, a pen in her hand.

She changed into a beige turtleneck sweater, and her complexion looked better than last night.

She didn't rush to sign; instead, she picked up the agreement and flipped through it page by page.

"Manager Xu."

She looked up, her voice steady and calm.

"I remember you said yesterday that at this price, your company would have to lose everything?"

Old Xu's face turned a deep purplish-red, and his hand holding the teacup trembled, splashing hot water onto the back of his hand, but he was completely unaware.

"Absolutely not! Producer Su, you're joking! The film Mr. Pierre is eyeing is aiming for the Palme d'Or! We're incredibly lucky to be able to represent it!"

Chen Yan came out of the inner room, her hair still damp.

"Sign it."

He said to Su Wan.

Su Wan nodded and carefully wrote her name at the signature line.

Holding the contract, Old Xu felt as if he had been granted a pardon. He thanked them repeatedly and then backed out the door.

Su Wan finally breathed a sigh of relief, her fingertips tapping lightly under the table, a light appearing in her eyes.

"Chen Yan, my palms were sweaty just now."

"He's not afraid of you, he's afraid of what might happen."

Chen Yan walked to the stove and added two pieces of coal.

"If you win an award, and he doesn't kowtow to the ground today, he'll have no place in this industry in the future."

The flames licked at the black coal, making a soft crackling sound.

Where is Lu Haiming?

Su Wan asked.

"He suffered such a big loss last night, and there's been no movement from him today. I'm feeling really uneasy."

"He's like a dog with its neck choked right now. Until he figures out what I'm up to, he'll just lie there."

Chen Yan spoke calmly.

He didn't tell Su Wan that the so-called copy of the geological report for Haiming Garden was just a few blank sheets of paper.

There was a rapid knocking at the door.

Zhang Yuan rushed in carrying a newspaper that still smelled of ink, his throat tight.

"Brother Yan! Look! Beijing Youth Daily!"

Chen Yan took the newspaper.

In the corner of the front page, a blurry photograph shows Pierre walking into a photo lab.

The headline is eye-catching: "Cannes film selectors secretly visit Beijing; a certain underground director's work is under investigation for suspected violations."

This was the work of Wang's comprador; he was desperate and resorted to desperate measures.

"Those bastards!"

Zhang Yuan's face turned red with anger.

"Yan-ge, we have to respond! What will happen to Teacher Yan if this gets back to the school?"

Chen Yan didn't say anything.

He folded the newspaper in half, then in half again, walked to a wooden table with wobbly legs, squatted down, and stuffed the folded newspaper under the table legs.

The table is stable now.

He stood up and brushed the dust off his hands.

"No need. Next Tuesday, the Cannes officials will give him a good slap in the face for us."

He turned to Su Wan.

"I'll take Qingqiu to Jishuitan Hospital this afternoon and get an appointment with Dr. Zhou. If we don't have enough money, we can ask Sister Lin."

Su Wan nodded.

"it is good."

In the following days, rumors and gossip circulated in Beijing's film industry.

Some people say that Chen Yan offended a powerful figure and will not be able to graduate.

Some say he has connections everywhere and has made connections with the French.

Chen Yan ignored them all.

Until early Tuesday morning.

The small, dilapidated house of Xinghuo Film and Television was brightly lit.

After a long dial tone, Zhang Yuan finally connected to the school's server.

He stared at the worn-out computer screen, the page refreshing extremely slowly, lines of French text scrolling down.

Su Wan sat next to Chen Yan, clutching the hem of her clothes with both hands.

For the first time ever, Lin Qingqiu didn't practice her martial arts. Instead, she sat in the shadows in the corner, her back ramrod straight.

The only sounds in the room were the hum of the computer fan and the suppressed breathing of a few people.

"They're out!"

Zhang Yuan called out in a hoarse voice.

Chen Yan reached out and used the mouse wheel to scroll directly to a list of videos he was interested in.

Scanning through the rows.

No.

Sweat rolled down Zhang Yuan's forehead.

It's at the very bottom of the list, where the opening film is located.

Night Watchman.

Director: CHEN YAN.

"Holy shit!"

Zhang Yuan slammed his fist on the table, bounced up from his chair, and slammed his head hard against the low roof beam with a dull thud.

He seemed oblivious to the pain, pointing at the screen with a distorted voice.

"We won! Yan Ge! It's the opening film! It's the damn opening film!"

Su Wan's tears fell silently, one drop, then two.

Chen Yan looked at the familiar yet unfamiliar name on the screen and slowly exhaled a breath of stale air.

The white mist dispersed in the cold air.

The deadlock from the previous life has finally been broken open, with the first crack appearing.

"It's just the beginning."

He said softly.

Outside, dawn was breaking over Beijing.

A bluish-gray hue appeared on the horizon.

And in the top-floor office of Haiming Film & Television.

Lu Haiming sank into the large leather swivel chair, with the city lights outside the window.

The office lights were off, and the red glow of a cigarette butt flickered in the darkness.

Wang, the comprador, stood to the side, his back bent like a shrimp.

Lu Haiming didn't speak, but raised his hand and slowly pushed the expensive white jade ashtray on the table to the edge.

The ashtray landed on the carpet with a dull thud.

"Call Yan Huaizhong."

Lu Haiming's voice has a metallic, abrasive quality.

"I'll say that I want to donate a new teaching building to the Beijing Film Academy in my father's name."

He paused for a moment, and when he spoke again, each word was spoken with great emphasis.

"I want that brat Chen Yan to kneel down and beg me to change the name of that building before he receives his award in Cannes."