Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 62 Old Gu from Shanghai

Wu Gang released the clutch, and the bread cart lurched upside down on the school road late at night.

Chen Yan sat in the passenger seat, holding the blue document bag in his hand.

In the rearview mirror, the black Audi was fifty meters away, its lights dim.

Chen Yan opened the file folder; the edges of the papers inside were yellowed, and they had a dry, musty smell.

"Lin Qingqiu refused to perform in Swan Lake in October 1996, violating the theater's rehearsal rules."

Chen Yan read the first line of text, speaking at a steady pace.

He turned to the second page, which was a handwritten accident liability statement.

Lin Qingqiu sat in the back row, her fingers gripping the packaging bag of the cheongsam, the plastic making a screeching sound.

"That's a copy of my file."

Lin Qingqiu spoke, his voice low and deep, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth.

Chen Yan handed the documents to the back of the car, his gaze falling on the shadows cast by the streetlights outside the window.

"The file says you 'breached the contract and skipped the performance,' and they're demanding 30,000 yuan in compensation. You paid that 30,000 yuan in 1996?"

"I lost money. I sold the old house my parents left me."

Lin Qingqiu took the documents, didn't even look at them, and immediately folded and flattened them.

Su Wan sat to the side and reached out to press down on Lin Qingqiu's violently trembling shoulders.

"The file records a lumbar spine injury caused by a training accident."

Su Wan turned to look at Chen Yan.

Lin Qingqiu let out a short, cold laugh.

"An accident? That afternoon, my spot as the main jumper was taken by the vice dean's niece."

"Wei Cheng was just watching. He didn't say anything, and he even asked me to drink with him."

"I refused. I went back to the rehearsal room and practiced for an extra fourteen hours."

"At the moment my spine broke, I was the only one in the room."

Wu Gang cursed from the front and suddenly turned the steering wheel around.

The bread truck drove out of the school gate and stopped in the shadows by the roadside.

The Audi behind them also stopped and kept its lights off.

Chen Yan leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips on the plastic center console.

"Did they lock you in the rehearsal room?"

Chen Yan asked.

"The door was locked from the outside."

Lin Qingqiu said.

"By the time they found me, I had lost all feeling in my lower body."

"Wei Cheng came in with the waiver and the notice of refusal to perform, and told me that if I didn't sign it, I would go to jail."

Chen Yan withdrew his gaze and looked at the rearview mirror.

"Angkor, go check the delivery point of the express shipment."

Wu Gang nodded and took out the electronic waybill that was stuck on the bag from the glove box.

"No need to check anymore. It's on Hengshan Road in Shanghai. The sender left an address for a coffee shop."

Su Wan looked down and flipped through the few blurry photos.

"Shen Congzhou couldn't get his hands on these internal files; they belonged to the theater's higher-ups."

"Wei Cheng is still holding a position at the Shanghai Film Studio, which is no small matter."

Chen Yan took the shipping label and traced the postmark date with his finger.

"It's not Shen Congzhou."

Chen Yan said.

"Shen Congzhou was just a bulldozer. Someone was directing from behind, trying to crush 'Thunder' before it even took the stage."

He looked at Lin Qingqiu, whose face appeared somewhat pale in the darkness.

"The car that Shen Congzhou sent was waiting for me to back down."

Chen Yan pushed open the car door and got out, his leather shoes kicking up a pebble on the asphalt road.

He walked toward the Audi behind him.

The car window slowly rolled down, revealing Wei Cheng's chubby face, with a half-smoked cigar still between his fingers.

"Director Chen, did you receive this wonderful gift?"

Wei Cheng blew smoke rings onto Chen Yan's face, his tone carrying a cloying, sticky quality.

"Venice places great importance on 'both moral integrity and artistic excellence.' Do you think Lin Qingqiu can still win an award if they send in materials like this?"

"Mr. Gu said that young people should not be too arrogant. The threshold for Chinese-language films is not in Europe."

Chen Yan bent down and braced his hands against the edge of the car window.

Who is Mr. Gu?

Wei Cheng patted the steering wheel, his chubby face jiggling.

"Old Gu from Shanghai. He holds all the connections, theater chains, and even the ancestors of you small-time directors in his hands."

"Hand over the negatives, and Mr. Gu can guarantee your film will be screened in Shanghai. Otherwise, Lin Qingqiu will be the sacrificial lamb for this film."

Chen Yan looked at Wei Cheng, his eyes showing no emotion.

He reached out and snatched the cigar from Wei Cheng's hand, pressing it directly onto the Audi's leather dashboard.

The pungent smell of burning instantly filled the carriage.

"Tell that old Gu."

Chen Yan said, emphasizing each word.

"I've already sent out the negatives. If he likes to dredge up old grievances, then let him dredge them up even more thoroughly."

Wei Cheng's expression changed, and he tried to push Chen Yan away.

Chen Yan grabbed his wrist with a strong grip.

"Don't move."

Chen Yan stared into his eyes.

"Tell him that since he thinks the threshold is in Shanghai, then I will go to Shanghai and tear down that door."

Chen Yan let go of her hand, turned around and walked back to the bread cart.

Wei Cheng sat in the car, looking at the scalded watch face, and cursed angrily.

Chen Yan opened the car door, sat back in the passenger seat, and looked at Wu Gang.

"Go back to the film crew and pass on the contact person at the Shanghai film processing plant to Su Wan."

Su Wan hesitated.

"Chen Yan, going to Shanghai now is like jumping into a fire pit."

"Shen Congzhou and that old Gu have been running their business there for decades. We probably can't even buy the chemicals for developing films."

Chen Yan shook his head.

"Even if this film wins an award, it's doomed if it stays in Beijing. What we need is the film's official approval number and domestic screenings."

He looked at Lin Qingqiu.

Lin Qingqiu was tearing the disclaimer in the file with all her might.

The paper was torn into tiny white specks and scattered all over the ground.

"Qingqiu"

Chen Yan called her.

Lin Qingqiu raised her head.

Do you remember the address of that rehearsal room?

"I remember. In Jing'an, in the old building of the old art troupe."

Lin Qingqiu answered.

"very good."

Chen Yan looked out the car window and said, "Our next scene will be filmed in Shanghai."

Hengshan Road, Shanghai.

Inside an old Western-style house covered with ivy, a gramophone plays "Night Shanghai".

Mr. Gu, dressed in a dark blue long gown, sat in a rosewood chair, holding a pair of walnuts in his hand.

Shen Congzhou stood to the side, bent over, holding the Venice Film Festival schedule in his hand.

"Master Gu, Wei Cheng has given us a reply. That kid Chen Yan is completely unyielding."

Shen Congzhou lowered his voice.

"He also burned your car."

Mr. Gu rotated the walnut, producing a subtle and even knocking sound.

He didn't even lift his eyelids, his gaze fixed on a white porcelain Guanyin statue on the table.

"Young people, with talent, naturally have tempers."

Mr. Gu said his voice was a little hoarse.

"He thought that by getting a short film in Cannes, he could get a share of the feature film market. That's a bad rule."

"Since he's going to Venice, let him fall from the clouds at his happiest moment."

Shen Congzhou nodded.

"Lin Qingqiu's information is ready, in both French and Italian. As soon as she steps onto the red carpet, the reporters will receive the package."

"A dancer kept by a gangster, a con artist who swindled money from compensation."

"These labels are what European judges love to see most, and they are also the easiest to destroy a character's divinity."

Mr. Gu stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the drizzle outside.

"Not enough. Let me ask those old friends at the Shanghai Film Bureau to put in a good word."

"If Chen Yan dares to come to Shanghai, not a single one of his sample prints will be allowed to leave the printing plant."

"Tell Zhou Qiwen that his publicity and marketing funds can be suspended for now."

Shen Congzhou hesitated for a moment.

"Mr. Gu, Lin Shufen has also invested money. If things get too tense, it might be difficult for her to explain."

Mr. Gu snorted coldly.

"Lin Shufen is a businesswoman. When a business is destined to lose money, she's the first to run away."

"I want Chen Yan to understand that on this land, movies are not made on film, but by rules."

Yanjing, the editing room late at night.

Zhang Yuanzheng was stuffing the last few rolls of film into the metal box.

Chen Yan walked in, holding a newly printed itinerary in his hand.

"Zhang Yuan, take half the people and leave first, the train is tomorrow morning."

Zhang Yuan was stunned for a moment.

"Where are you going? Abandoning Yanjing Editing?"

"Go to Shanghai. Find a small, privately owned film studio. Name it 'Chenguang' (Morning Light)."

Chen Yan slapped the address on the table.

"The director over there owes Old Yan a favor. The equipment is a bit old, but nobody can manage it there."

Su Wan walked over and handed a fax to Chen Yan.

"A message from Vincent. He discovered that someone was inquiring about our material at photo printing shops around Venice."

"Shen Congzhou has made his move."

After reading the fax, Chen Yan crumpled it up and threw it into the wastebasket.

"Let them check. The negatives are already on the high seas."

Chen Yan walked towards Lin Qingqiu and looked at the hard protective gear around her waist.

"Qingqiu, bring your cheongsam. There's a dinner party in Shanghai, and you have to come with me."

Lin Qingqiu's body stiffened for a moment.

"Do you have to drink with me again?"

Chen Yan shook his head.

"I won't drink with you. I'll take you to meet your old friends from back then."

He turned and looked out the window.

The night was deep, and the tower cranes in the distance looked like giant skeletons nailed to the wilderness.

"In this round, I want more than just the Dragon Seal."

Chen Yan said in a low voice.

"I still want to settle old scores in Shanghai, one by one."

He turned his head and looked at Su Wan.

"Prepare three plane tickets to Shanghai. Tomorrow at noon."

Su Wan nodded and walked out of the room.

Chen Yan walked to the crank handle and took one last look at the broken piece of film from the clock tower.

In the scene, Lin Qingqiu's fingers are digging tightly into the mud.

He abruptly pressed the shutter button.

Freeze.