Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 43 Satellite Direct Connection

Wu Gang pressed his palm against Lu Haiming's cheek, his fingernails leaving several red marks on the other's skin.

Lu Haiming's teeth were chattering, his nostrils flared, and his eyes were fixed on Liang Qinian at the bottom of the pit.

Liang Qinian stood up from the mud, clutching the red plastic hair clip in his right hand.

He put the hair clip in his breast pocket and carefully zipped it up.

Liu retreated to the jeep door and reached for the belt buckle at his waist with his left hand.

"Chen Yan. Everything at the scene is now evidence. Including what you just hid."

Liu Cong's voice trembled as he tried to push away the two elderly workers who had surrounded him with his right hand.

Chen Yan didn't look at Liu Cong; he walked towards the dilapidated bread truck parked at the edge of the ruins.

He raised his hand, bent his index finger, and tapped the metal exterior of the bread cart three times.

"Old Zhang, turn on the computer."

Chen Yan issued the order.

The sound of mechanical meshing emanated from the roof of the bread truck.

Two hydraulic rods lift up the sunroof on the roof, supporting a silver dish-shaped antenna with a diameter of one meter.

The antenna slowly rotated, aiming towards the southwest.

Liu stopped what he was doing and stared at the spinning metal disc.

"What is this?"

Liu Cong raised his voice and pointed to the roof of the car.

"That's the telecommunications bureau's job. You're illegally setting up a radio station?"

Chen Yan leaned against the car door, looking down at the laptop that was flashing green light.

"This is a maritime satellite link that WildBunch leases from London. It costs $200 per minute to transmit data via maritime Bilibili."

Chen Yan tapped his fingers on the keyboard, and a progress bar appeared on the screen.

"The footage from just now, showing Director Liang digging evidence out of the foundation, has been broadcast."

Upon hearing this, Lu Haiming's body jerked violently on the muddy ground.

He looked up, his face covered in mud and dried blood at the corner of his mouth.

"Where did you send it? Where did you send it?"

Lu Haiming roared, his voice crackling with a distorted sound.

Chen Yan turned around and pointed at the laptop screen.

"In a private screening room on Boulevard Saint-Michel in Paris, three members of the Cannes Film Festival selection committee, along with the editor-in-chief of Cahiers du Cinéma, are watching the live broadcast."

"This is the 'Real Light and Shadow in China' that I demonstrated to them."

Chen Yan closed the laptop lid, making a crisp sound.

Liu took a step forward, trying to snatch the computer.

Wu Gang turned to the side, and the crowbar darted out diagonally, embedding itself in the mud in front of Liu Cong's toes.

The iron rod pierced through the frozen soil, sinking half a foot deep.

"Director Liu, step back."

Wu Gang stared at Liu Cong's neck.

Chen Yan took out a cigarette, but didn't light it; he just twirled it between his fingers.

"Director Liu, that document with the red stamp is for sealing up domestic copyright and filming permits."

"But this machine is connected to an international satellite. That footage has already become documentary material for the 'International Common Cultural Heritage'."

"Once this story appears on the front page of one of Europe's three major newspapers, do you think Tianjin can still retain its position?"

Chen Yan looked at Lu Haiming.

Lu Haiming's eyes were unfocused, and his fingers dug into the pile of rubble beside him, grinding his knuckles down to the bone.

He knew the rules of Tianjin.

If Chen Yan were simply making a film to reveal the truth, he could have crushed it with money, connections, and the censorship system.

But now, these images have become "diplomatic risks" that cross national borders.

Those who once sat at his table backstage are now only thinking about how to completely sever ties with him.

"Wang, the comprador, take your men and leave."

Lu Haiming suddenly spoke, his voice very low.

He looked at Wang, the comprador, kneeling in the pile of ruins.

Wang, the comprador, was being stepped on from behind by Zhang Yuan, his face covered in cold, wet mud.

"Go? Where to?"

Chen Yan sneered and looked down at Lu Haiming.

"President Lu, when you sealed this well twenty years ago, did you imagine this day would come?"

Lu Haiming closed his eyes, his breathing heavy.

A sudden screech of brakes came from the street corner.

Four black Santana sedans drove into the construction site.

The sides of the car were splattered with mud, and it was parked haphazardly.

The car door opened, and several men wearing dark blue cotton coats jumped out.

The man leading the group was in his fifties, with raindrops dripping from his forehead.

He walked quickly to Liang Qinian, looked at the pocket on Liang Qinian's chest, and then looked at the deep pit.

"Liang Qinian. Orders from the Municipal Bureau."

The man presented a piece of paper with a blue stamp.

"The construction site at No. 107 Laochang Street is immediately taken over. The site is sealed off, awaiting the forensic team."

He turned to look at Liu Cong.

"Director Liu, your work at the Safety Supervision Bureau is finished. The rest is up to us."

Liu Cong's face turned ashen, his tense shoulders relaxed, and he slowly withdrew his hand from the belt buckle.

He lowered his head and walked back to the green jeep.

Chen Yan watched Liu Cong's car leave.

He put the cigarette back in his pocket and walked towards Su Wan.

Su Wan held the rusty iron box, her shoulders trembling slightly in the cold wind.

Chen Yan took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders.

"it's over?"

Su Wan asked in a low voice.

Chen Yan looked into the distance.

The lights on Old Factory Street were sparse, and the darkness before dawn was deepest behind that row of dilapidated bungalows.

"This is just the end of filming."

Chen Yan patted the top of the bread cart.

"Old Zhang, pack up the antenna. Pack the film, let's go back to Yanjing."

Zhang Yuan leaned out of the car window.

"Chen'er! We haven't even reached the award ceremony yet, and filming's already wrapped?"

Chen Yan looked up at the gray sky.

"Send this tape over, and we'll have our tickets to Berlin."

A Santana pulled up next to Chen Yan.

Two police officers got out of the car and helped Lu Haiming up.

Before being dragged into the carriage, Lu Haiming suddenly turned his head and stared intently at Chen Yan.

"Chen Yan, you've ruined the foundation I've built over twenty years. Do you think you can get away unscathed?"

Chen Yan did not answer.

He watched as Lu Haiming was shoved into the back seat.

His phone vibrated violently in his pocket.

Chen Yan took out his phone and pressed the answer button.

Heavy breathing came from the speaker, accompanied by the rustling of papers turning over.

"Chen Yan. I am Yan Huaizhong."

The old man's voice was hoarse, revealing a forced weariness.

"Teacher Yan."

Chen Yan leaned against the side of the car.

"The ministry's car has already left Yanjing South Station and is heading straight for Tianjin. I've obtained the legal documents for you."

Yan Huaizhong paused for a moment.

"Those negatives from the scene. You must protect them at all costs; they're your life."

Chen Yan looked down at the mud puddle at his feet.

"They're already on their way. The legal department will send someone to Langfang to meet them."

"That's good. Come find me when you get back to Yanjing; I've prepared some wine."

Yan Huaizhong hung up the phone.

Chen Yan put his phone back in his pocket.

He watched as police cars drove away one after another.

The older workers are holding plastic sheets and covering the pit in the foundation.

Wu Gang hoisted the heavy crowbar onto his shoulder.

He walked up to Chen Yan, his leg disability making it difficult for him to stand on the slope.

"Director Chen, where will we film the next scene?"

Chen Yan looked in the direction of Yanjing.

"Go and film the real 'Thunder'."

He opened the car door and sat in the passenger seat of the van.

The bread truck started up, spewing out a cloud of black exhaust fumes.

The tires rolled over the broken stone pillars, producing a dull tremor.

One by one, the high color temperature lights on the ruins went out.

Chen Yan leaned back in his chair.

His fingers traced the metal casing of the laptop.

Outside the car window, the morning light began to pierce through the clouds, shining on the green tiles of the old city of Tianjin.

Chen Yan saw it.

Liang Qinian stood alone at the edge of the deep pit.

He was looking down, checking the zipper of his breast pocket one last time.

That was the only thing he brought home.

The van sped out of the old factory street and merged into the morning highway.

Freeze.