Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 13 Taking the Stamp

In the early morning in Tianjin, thick fog pressed down with a chilling aura as cold as cast iron.

Chen Yan squatted on the steps at the entrance of the alley, slowly chewing on a fried dough stick.

In the distance, an early morning bus sputtered and belched black smoke, while several farmers carrying baskets walked on the frozen dirt road, their feet crunching under their feet.

The black woolen overcoat he was wearing was his father Chen Jianguo's most treasured possession, but it looked loose and baggy on him.

He's waiting for someone, but he's not in a hurry.

In these kinds of situations, the closer it gets to the end, the more it comes down to who can stay calm and collected.

Twenty minutes later, a Santana 2000 silently glided into the alley.

The car window rolled down, revealing Xiao Zhao's face, which looked like a hawk had been sleeping all night; his eyes were sunken and his stubble was still unkempt.

He got off the car alone, without those burly men in black cotton-padded coats.

Xiao Zhao walked up to Chen Yan, rummaged in his pocket for a while, and finally pulled out a red bankbook, handing it over hesitantly.

"What you asked for, 600,000, not a penny less."

"President Lu said that once the money is paid, all previous debts will be wiped clean."

His voice was dry and hoarse, as if it had been sanded with sandpaper.

Chen Yan didn't take it, patted the crumbs off his hands, and stood up.

Did you bring paper and pens?

Xiao Zhao's brows furrowed into a knot.

"Chen, we've already given you the money, what more do you want?"

Write an apology statement.

Chen Yan spoke in a steady tone, as if asking about today's weather.

"There was a technical error in the demolition assessment of a plot of land in Tianjin by Haiming Consulting, which led to data discrepancies. We have now corrected the error and apologize to the residents."

"Signature and affix your company seal."

"Aren't you asking for it?!"

Xiao Zhao panicked, squeezing the passbook in his hand until it became deformed.

"Mr. Lu giving you money is already a huge favor; do you really want him to leave behind any written evidence?"

"Isn't this just handing him the knife?"

Chen Yan glanced at him but didn't say anything.

With just one glance, the hairs on the back of Xiao Zhao's head stood on end.

"You don't have to write it."

Chen Yan turned and left.

"Then I can't accept this money."

"If Mr. Lu thinks that the approval document for Phase III of Haiming Garden is not worth 600,000 yuan, he is welcome to give it a try."

"Don't!"

"I'll write it, I'll write it, okay?!"

Xiao Zhao grabbed him, his forehead covered in cold sweat.

He finally understood that the person in front of him was not a student at all, but a seasoned veteran who had stepped on people's lungs with every step.

Xiao Zhao ran back to the car, leaned on the hood, and wrote the letter with trembling hands. Then he took out an official seal stained with red ink from his pocket, gritted his teeth, and slammed it down.

Chen Yan took the paper and blew on the still-damp ink.

The handwriting is crooked, but the content is clear.

He folded the paper, put it in his coat pocket, and then took the passbook.

"Please thank Mr. Lu for me."

Chen Yan smiled and didn't look at him again.

Chen Jianguo didn't emerge from the alley until the Santana's taillights disappeared into the fog, his hands nervously rubbing the seams of his trousers.

"Xiao Yan, is this... all done?"

"It's over."

Chen Yan took a card out of his savings book and handed it to his father.

"Dad, here's 20,000 yuan. Keep it for yourself."

"I'll take the rest back to Yanjing to treat Uncle Su's illness."

"So much money..."

Chen Jianguo looked at the numbers on his bankbook, and his breathing became heavy.

"It's okay, I know what I'm doing."

Chen Yan patted his father on the shoulder.

Lu Haiming is the kind of person who will never admit defeat after suffering a loss.

But he couldn't care less about that right now.

On the bus back to Yanjing, Chen Yan pulled out the text message that had been sent late last night.

It's Su Wan.

[Xiao Yan, Qi Feng is causing trouble at school. He organized an art and aesthetics revision conference. I heard from Teacher Yan that he wants to use "The Night Watchman" as a negative example to publicly criticize it and clean up the opportunistic atmosphere in the photography department. Be very careful when you come back.]

Chen Yan put his phone back in his pocket.

Qi Feng, that old dog really knows how to pick his timing.

At the Beijing Film Academy, once a student is labeled as opportunistic and vulgar, their artistic career is basically ruined.

By the time the car arrived in Yanjing, it was already completely dark.

The north wind is like a knife, piercing straight into the bones.

Chen Yan didn't go back to his rented room. He bought a pancake from a roadside stall, ate it in a few bites, and then took a taxi straight to the Film Academy.

On the bus, he called Yan Huaizhong back.

"Teacher Yan, it's me, Chen Yan, who's back in Yanjing."

It was noisy on the other end of the phone, so Yan Huaizhong lowered his voice.

"Don't go back to school yet!"

"Qi Feng is serious this time. He even invited the vice principal, who is criticizing your film on the stage in the auditorium. He says he'll show it frame by frame and publicly denounce you!"

"This is getting out of hand, you'd better hide for a couple of days!"

"Where did he get the master tape?"

Chen Yan asked.

"They forced it on the server room administrator while I was away."

"The old man is about to retire, so we don't dare offend him."

Yan Huaizhong's voice was full of helplessness.

"Listen to my advice, don't come back yet!"

"There's no escaping it."

Chen Yan looked out the window at the streetlights rushing past, reached into his pocket, and touched the apology letter that was still warm from his body.

"Teacher Yan, are there any seats left in the auditorium?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

"...Why won't you listen to advice, child?"

"I want to hear what exactly makes my film so vulgar."

Chen Yan hung up the phone.

The auditorium at Beijing Film Academy was packed tonight.

The screen on stage was frozen on a rainy night scene from "The Night Watch".

The uncolored master tape is rough, dark, and full of noise.

Qi Feng, dressed in a suit and holding a baton, pointed confidently at the screen.

"Look, students!"

"This is a typical cheap voyeuristic angle!"

"Creators have lost their reverence for art and are using the camera as a key to voyeurism!"

"This technique is rampant in third-rate Hollywood horror films, its sole purpose being to sell tickets and pander to the general public who don't understand art!"

"If our academies are producing students like this, where is the future of Chinese cinema?"

Among the hundreds of students in the audience, many were writing furiously, and whispers were constant.

"I knew this movie looked weird, not like a proper film."

"I heard the director got involved with people from the underworld to make the film?"

Chen Yan entered through the back door and sat down in the shadows of the last row.

At this moment, the vice principal took the microphone and cleared his throat.

"The school is re-evaluating Chen Yan's work."

"What we need to show is not just a score, but an attitude."

"The art of film is not to be desecrated!"

The atmosphere instantly plummeted to freezing point.

Su Wan sat in the first row, her fingernails almost digging into her palms.

She tried to stand up several times, but Qi Feng's domineering aura made it hard for her to breathe.

Qi Feng surveyed the entire scene, a victor's smile on his face.

"Since Chen Yan himself is too afraid to attend, then we'll call it a day."

"Subsequently, the school will recommend that his/her graduation be revoked and the master tape destroyed!"

"No need to wait for further updates."

A voice came from the shadows at the back of the auditorium, cutting through the noise and clearly reaching everyone's ears.

Swish!

Hundreds of eyes turned to look at them simultaneously.

Chen Yan stood up and slowly unbuttoned his coat.

He walked forward step by step, the soles of his leather shoes making a dull thud on the wooden floor, each thud pressing down on Qi Feng's heartbeat.

"Chen Yan?"

"You dare to come back?"

Qi Feng's voice trembled slightly.

Chen Yan ignored him and walked straight to the vice principal, gently placing the red passbook on the table.

"Principal, this is the self-raised funding for my graduation project, 600,000 yuan."

"The source is legal, and the destination is transparent."

"Six hundred thousand?!"

A collective gasp filled the auditorium.

Six hundred thousand in 2000—what does that even mean!

Chen Yan then turned around and faced Qi Feng.

"Professor Qi, I just heard you talk at length about the nobility of art."

"I have a question for you: How can an artist who can't even face real life talk about art?"

"What do you mean?!"

Qi Feng roared in exasperation.

Chen Yan took the paper out of his pocket, unfolded it, and waved it at the hundreds of students below the stage.

"This is an apology statement just stamped by Mr. Lu Haiming's Haiming Consulting Company."

"The authorities admitted that they had engaged in illegal activities during the demolition assessment."

"Professor Qi, I heard you were recently appointed as the art consultant for Haiming Film & Television?"

"I wonder if the consulting fee you receive is used to cover up the shame surrounding art, or to sharpen the knives for capital?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Qi Feng's face turned completely white, his lips trembled, and he couldn't squeeze out a single word.

He never dreamed that Lu Haiming would run into such a mess!

"You...you're talking nonsense!"

"You're spouting nonsense!"

"Whether it's nonsense or not, the school can find out by checking the accounts."

Chen Yan walked up to the podium, grabbed the baton from Qi Feng's hand, and pointed at the screen.

"You said this shot is voyeurism."

"In my view, this is intervention."

"I want the audience to feel that evil is all around us, not just on a fictional screen!"

Chen Yan's voice grew deeper and more steady.

"If movies can only depict those lofty and refined things, then who will film the stories of the pancake vendors outside our school gates, the taxi drivers, and the ordinary people driven to desperation by demolition companies?"

"Who gets to define their art?"

"If you think reality is vulgar, then I'm sorry, but I, Chen Yan, will be the most vulgar person in the film industry!"

The auditorium was so quiet that only the hum of the electricity could be heard.

Qi Feng stood to the side, his hands trembling like leaves, his whole body slumped down as if his bones had been removed.

Su Wan looked at Chen Yan on the stage, her eyes welled up with tears, and her vision blurred.

That wasn't a boy she needed to pity; he was a warrior who dared to challenge the entire set of outdated rules.

Chen Yan threw down his baton, stepped off the stage, took Su Wan's hand, and walked towards the door under the watchful eyes of the entire audience.

"Wait, Chen Yan."

The vice principal suddenly spoke up.

Chen Yan stopped walking without turning around.

"Come to my office tomorrow to pick up your graduation certificate."

"Also, you can take the master tapes of 'The Night Watch' with you."

Chen Yan pulled Su Wan away and disappeared through the door.

The night breeze was cool.

The two walked on the playground, Su Wan leaned against him and asked softly.

"Xiaoyan, we have money now, can we get Daddy's surgery?"

"I'll go tomorrow."

"Find the best specialists and get the best hospital rooms."

Chen Yan gripped her hand tightly.

"Let's do something big with the rest of the money."

"What's the big deal?"

"To Cannes."

Chen Yan looked at the starlight on the horizon.

"It's not enough to just be shortlisted; we need to bring that golden leaf back."

No sooner had he finished speaking than his Nokia phone rang in his pocket.

An international long-distance call starting with +33.

He pressed the answer button, and Pierre's excited, off-key Chinese came from the other end of the line.

"List!"

"My friend!"

"One good news, one bad news!"

"Let me tell you the bad news first."

"The bad news is that your 'Night Watchman' has been removed from the short film competition!"

Su Wan's body trembled slightly.

"And what's the good news?"

"The good news is, the chairman of the judging panel was furious after watching the master tape!"

Pierre screamed on the other end.

He said putting you in the short film section was an insult to art!

"They decided to make an exception and elevate 'The Night Watch' to the Un Certain Regard section as the opening film!"

"Chen, quickly get a suit ready; the Cannes red carpet awaits you!"