Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 14 Thunder in the Auditorium

"This kind of sensationalist commercial trash is a serious smear on our school's reputation, and his diploma must not be issued."

A shrill sound pierced through the crack in the door of the conference room in the administration building. The bitter smell of cheap tobacco, acrid from burning anxiety, mingled with the sweaty odor emanating from the heating system, and rushed out all at once.

The door was pushed open, and the slight sound entered the room, but it was like an ice needle, immediately interrupting Qi Feng's spittle-flecked speech.

He was clutching a disciplinary report, his face flushed with excitement as he turned toward the door. But when he saw who it was, the redness quickly faded, leaving only a grim face filled with astonishment and disbelief.

The eyes of several department leaders in the conference room all turned to look at them.

In the corner, Su Wan raised her head, her bloodshot eyes initially flashing with desperate panic. But after seeing Chen Yan's calm face, her tense shoulders slowly relaxed, while her nails dug deeper into her palms, using the pain to confirm that this was not an illusion.

Chen Yan closed the door behind him, shutting out the light from the corridor.

He glanced around, then finally fixed his gaze on Qi Feng, speaking in a calm tone as if he were talking about something trivial.

"Teacher Qi, please continue."

That word "continue" is more painful than a question.

Qi Feng's words caught in his throat, and his face turned extremely ugly.

He didn't expect Chen Yan to actually come, and he was even more surprised that this kid didn't show the slightest bit of fear that a student should have in his eyes. Instead, he was like a calm hunter, staring at the prey that had fallen into the net.

"Chen Yan, you've come at the perfect time."

Vice Principal Liu, who was in charge of administration, pushed up his glasses and tapped his knuckles lightly on the table twice, exuding a somewhat authoritative administrative tone.

"Regarding your unauthorized smuggling of film negatives out of the country and the issues surrounding the values ​​of your work, Professor Qi has suggested withholding your graduation certificate. Do you have any explanation to offer?"

Chen Yan ignored him and walked straight towards Su Wan.

Under the astonished gazes of the crowd, he asked in a low voice.

Is there any water?

This is not just thirst.

The days of running around and exhaustion made him need to suppress the dryness in his throat.

Su Wan was taken aback and quickly took out an unopened bottle of Wahaha from her bag.

He unscrewed the bottle cap, tilted his head back, and drank most of the bottle down.

The cool liquid suppressed the burning sensation in his throat and also dispelled the false warmth in the room.

When he put down the water bottle, no one saw that his fingers had turned white from the force.

He then turned around and slowly walked towards the conference table.

"explain."

Chen Yan placed the plastic bottle on the corner of the table and reached into his inner pocket.

"Okay, let's start with the most common ones."

He pulled a folded piece of paper from his inner pocket and placed it in front of Qi Feng.

"A letter of apology personally signed by Lu Haiming, the owner of Haiming Film and Television."

Chen Yan tapped the table lightly with his knuckles, making two soft tapping sounds, as if he were timing someone's career.

"It's all in black and white, an admission that they committed serious violations in the demolition assessment in Tianjin. Mr. Qi, as the art consultant for Haiming Film and Television, what's your opinion on your financial backer being taught a lesson by the law?"

The air seemed to sink instantly.

Qi Feng's temple throbbed twice, and cold sweat trickled down his temples.

He accepted Lu Haiming's money, thinking it was a giant wheel that could crush an ant, but who would have thought that he would be bitten by this piece of paper first.

"You...you're lying, this is a fake."

His voice was hoarse, and even his tone had changed.

"What does this have to do with your graduation project?"

"It's alright."

Chen Yan sneered, then took out a bankbook from the other inner pocket and placed it on top of the apology letter.

When a young counselor saw the numbers on the passbook, he immediately covered his mouth with his hand.

"This 600,000," Chen Yan's voice was not loud, but it weighed heavily on people's chests, "is the life-saving money that I squeezed from your mouth, my benefactor, by using my professional skills for my father and for those people who are guarding their broken homes in the snow."

He paused here, then slowed his speech, but his gaze became even more steady.

"When you accepted that consulting fee, did you ever talk about art? When capitalists exploited the blood and sweat of ordinary people to pay for your empty rhetoric, did you ever talk about values?"

Chen Yan leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Qi Feng.

"Teacher Qi, don't talk to me about art. You're afraid of the truth; you're only fit to look at checks."

The room fell completely silent.

Vice Principal Liu stared at the letter with its glaring red stamp and the bankbook, his expression shifting several times.

In 2000, an era that valued conduct, these two things were enough to completely strip away the dignity a scholar had built up over many years.

"You sent the negatives to France without permission, which is a violation of the rules and constitutes cultural smuggling."

Qi Feng grasped at the last straw, his hands trembling so much that the report papers on the table rustled.

Upon hearing this, Chen Yan's gaze swept over the tightly closed door of the conference room without making a sound.

"The Ministry of Culture will not only not pursue the matter, but will also regard it as a benchmark for cultural exports."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the conference room door was pushed open again.

Vice Principal Yan Huaizhong practically rushed in, his coat still stained with cigarette ash, clutching a fax paper with its edges curled up in his hand.

Without even glancing at Qi Feng, he walked straight to the table, slammed the fax in front of Vice Principal Liu, his voice hoarse but unable to suppress his urgency.

"Chen Yan just received a call last night, and this morning, the official confirmation letter from Cannes was sent to my office."

Yan Huaizhong turned around, a fire burning in his cloudy eyes, and looked directly at Chen Yan.

"Pierre signed it himself. They withdrew 'The Night Watch' from the short film competition."

Qi Feng felt as if he had grabbed a piece of driftwood, and a look of wild joy appeared on his face.

"It's canceled. I knew it, this kind of thing..."

"Shut up."

Yan Huaizhong shouted loudly, making the teacup lid vibrate.

"The Cannes jury believed that placing this film in the short film section would be an insult to art. They decided to make an exception and elevate 'The Night Watch' to the Un Certain Regard section, where it would be the opening film and its world premiere."

In the meeting room, several young counselors in the back row suddenly stood up, their faces full of disbelief.

At the turn of the century, it was an immense honor for the Beijing Film Academy to be shortlisted for the Cannes Short Film Festival.

The opening film of a certain focus section.

This means that a student who hasn't even graduated is being handed directly to the doorstep of the world's cinematic hall of fame.

Qi Feng's body sank heavily into the chair.

His lips moved silently, but he couldn't utter a single complete word for a long time.

It’s over.

That money, his reputation, everything he had—all were completely torn apart by that thin sheet of fax paper.

"Chen Yan".

Yan Huaizhong walked up to him and patted him hard on the shoulder.

"You'll pick up your diploma this afternoon. But remember, when you walk the Cannes red carpet, behind you are the backbone of Chinese filmmakers. Don't be like some people who use the bones of their compatriots to build their own ladder."

These words were heard clearly throughout the room.

Chen Yan nodded, and only then did the fatigue from working non-stop begin to surface.

He stopped looking at Qi Feng, who was like a pile of mud, turned around and walked to the corner, took Su Wan's cold hand and wrapped her hand in his palm.

"We have won the battle."

He said in a low voice.

"Um."

Su Wan's eyes were red, and she gripped his hand tightly, her voice filled with a tearful joy.

"Xiao Yan, with that 600,000, Daddy is really saved."

"There's hope! We'll go and complete the paperwork today."

Chen Yan pushed open the door, and the winter sunlight streamed through the corridor, falling on the two of them.

"With the rest of the money," he said, looking into her tear-filled eyes, "go buy us both new clothes, and we'll go to France together."

The two walked out of the administration building side by side. A gust of cold wind cleared Chen Yan's confused mind.

Su Wan looked back with concern.

"Will Lu Haiming really give up?"

"He will."

Chen Yan looked ahead, his tone resolute.

"Smart people know best how to weigh the pros and cons. This letter is his stop-loss order now, but in the future, it will be his epitaph."

The moment he finished speaking, the Nokia in his pocket vibrated.

An unfamiliar Beijing number.

Who is it?

"Is this director Chen Yan?"

On the other end of the phone was the voice of a mature woman, her tone carrying the composure and shrewdness of someone who had long held a high position.

"I am Lin Shufen. You may not have heard of me, but you should be familiar with some of the actresses I've mentored. I'm very interested in the domestic distribution rights for 'The Night Watchman.' Let's talk about it tonight at the Great Wall Hotel."

Chen Yan raised his eyebrows slightly.

The sharks in the deep sea finally smelled the blood.

"Sister Lin, you're too kind."

Chen Yan looked at the bustling campus not far away, a smile appearing on his lips.

That's the expression of someone who's in control of the game.

"The coffee at the Great Wall Hotel is too refined; it might not be able to capture the down-to-earth feel of my film. If you don't mind, I'll treat you to a bowl of hot noodles at a noodle stall in the alley behind the school. We can chat over the noodle soup; it might make the story even more interesting."

After hanging up the phone, Chen Yan gripped Su Wan's hand tightly.

In this round, he overturned more than just the card table in the conference room.

What he just received is a ticket to the real game of chess in the future.