Director of Photography Department of Huayu

Chapter 411 A resolute choice surpasses all romance

The film "The Founding of a Republic" is about to hold a press conference, but the hype is as great as the opening of three major film festivals, even overshadowing the Berlin Film Festival.

Chen Kaige led a team to Berlin.

Berlin, 4 p.m. local time.

The temperature was low and damp, with a few snowflakes falling outside the window. The gray sky hung low. Chen Kaige hung up the phone in his hotel room, a slight smile of relief on his face.

"What did Chairman Ren of Shanghai Film Group say?"

In a corner of the sofa, Chen Hong watched Chen Kaige take off his glasses and couldn't help but ask.

"No problem, Shanghai Film Group is investing in people, not movies."

"So we're really not going to cooperate with China Film this time?"

Chen Hong was still a little unaccustomed to it at first, as she had mostly collaborated with China Film Group in the past.
“The market has changed,” he said. “China Film Group has more responsibilities and has to consider the system, returns, and safety net. We also need to consider returns more, and Kaisheng Film & Television Culture must have more say.”

Chen Kaige stood up, walked to the balcony, opened the window, and was greeted by a blast of cold Berlin wind.

China Film Group's shift is quite obvious. Although "Mei Lanfang" did not lose money, it did not make much money either. Its personal style is too obvious, and it has actually deviated somewhat from the direction that China Film Group wants to take.

Of course, he hopes to have greater and stronger autonomy and control.

"By the way, Qin Hong from Xingmei also contacted me. We'll meet with Xingmei later too."

Chen Hong nodded slightly upon seeing this.

August 2, early morning.

Early spring has not yet arrived in Beijing, and the chill of winter has not yet completely dissipated.

As dawn broke, the snow-covered suburbs were quiet. A thin layer of frost still clung to the branches from the previous night. Sunlight pierced through layers of gray-white clouds, casting a pale glow on the distant mountains and rooftops, like winter's last act of defiance.

The villa on the outskirts of Beijing was quiet.

The curtains of the French windows were half-drawn, and light filtered through them, quietly falling on the off-white carpet and the large bed. The bedroom was at a comfortable temperature, and the air was filled with the faint scent of sandalwood and the mistress's usual hair fragrance.

Wu Chen blinked, his mind not yet fully clear, but he already had a vague feeling that he had been pushed to the side again.

Looking down, I saw that he was indeed hanging off the bed, his whole body forced to lie on his side against the edge, with only one shoulder and half a leg keeping him in contact with the bed.

Turning my head again, sure enough, the culprit was fast asleep.

Liu Yifei wore a white silk nightgown with French lace trim. The fabric was soft and delicate, and the neckline and cuffs were embroidered with very light cherry blossom patterns. The nightgown slid down naturally as she pressed against Wu Chen, revealing her collarbone.

Her long legs stretched across Wu Chen's waist, her arms were around him, her hair was loose, her eyelashes were thick and long, and her cheeks were slightly pink from the warmth of the heater.

It's practically a "reclining and dominating the bed" style.

At 1.7 meters tall, he took up 70% of the bed.

Strands of hair fell across his chest, his eyelashes fluttered, the corners of his lips were slightly upturned, and his breathing was even.

Wu Chen smiled helplessly.

"Can't you get some sleep?" he muttered softly, gently nudging her.

The response was a lazy "hmm," without even opening his eyes, which only made Liu Yifei hug him tighter.

Wu Chen suddenly burst into laughter; the scene was all too familiar.

He often experiences this scene every morning when he wakes up.

He was physically on the edge of the bed, his soul hovering there, just a hair's breadth away from becoming the "man who fell off the bed"; and behind him was Liu Yifei, who slept close to him until the end of time.
Wu Chen glanced at the time; it was 7:15 a.m.

Today is the day of the press conference for the start of filming of "The Founding of a Republic".

He gently pulled the blanket up, carefully lifted Liu Yifei's arm, and prepared to get up.

"You're not allowed to leave."

A voice, thick with nasal tones and sleepiness, suddenly rang in my ears.

Liu Yifei opened her eyes, her gaze hazy with the light of dawn, yet shimmering with a smile. She hugged Wu Chen tightly, her voice soft and sweet, "Sleep a little longer, it doesn't start until nine."

"If you don't leave now, I'll have to push you off the bed." Wu Chen pointed to his precarious position, half-teasing and half-asleep, "How did you manage that? Our bed is so big!"

Liu Yifei blushed slightly, but remained defiant:
"That's your problem! I'm cold, so I want to stay close to you. But you always move away a little every now and then, and that's how this happened."

"That's because I'm hot," Wu Chen said helplessly.

"But I'm cold!"

After saying that, she got up and leaned into his arms, her voice soft and sweet, and she wrapped her arms around his waist.
The gentle smile in her eyes was like a touch of vibrant April peach blossoms, breathtakingly beautiful in an instant.

Wu Chen smiled gently.

"Junior brother, what are you laughing at?" Liu Yifei looked at Wu Chen with some confusion and asked curiously.

"It's nothing. Sometimes I just feel that meeting someone is a lucky thing." Wu Chen gently ruffled Liu Yifei's hair, and the latter seemed to enjoy the intimacy.

She understood.

Of course she understood.

Wu Chen was clearly referring to their first meeting, and then he couldn't help but look up, his eyes shining: "Junior brother, if you had to choose again, would you still choose me?"

Wu Chen replied without hesitation, "Of course."

"Hehe, you passed!"

After half an hour.

Wu Chen had finished washing up and changing his clothes and was ready to go out.

Liu Yifei was nestled on the sofa, holding "Dongdong" and "Xixi," her eyes fixed on the rising golden light outside the window, when she suddenly burst out laughing.

"And she even said she wasn't romantic."

The white curtains fluttered gently, and the morning light shone through the glass window, casting a soft halo around her eyes.

To know--

A firm choice is more beautiful than any romance.
Huairou National China Film Digital Production Base.

On a clear morning in early February, the wind carried the chill of the north. The clean sunlight slanted across the empty asphalt, reflecting off the rows of cars parked densely outside the conference building.

As soon as Wu Chen's car turned in, he couldn't help but click his tongue.

"This is much more exciting than any Golden Rooster and Hundred Flowers Film Festival."

As he got out of the car and walked inside, he glanced back; the large parking lot was almost full.
A buffer zone was set up outside the conference room, with a red carpet laid all the way to the bottom of the steps. Hundreds of reporters, media, and guests were signing in and entering one after another. Cameras, telephoto lenses, microphones, and flashes were constantly coming and going, creating a very tense atmosphere.

At this moment, in the conference room.

Ning Hao, wearing a gray-black wool coat, with his neck hunched, was whispering in Han Sanping's ear, "Chairman Han, are you sure there aren't any other shots for me? This close-up is only for these two lines."

"What, you don't like the screen time allocated to you?"

"Can I choose?" Ning Hao chuckled.

Han Sanping said with a hint of regret, "We've already chosen all the ones we could for now. Of course, there are still some shots with a bit more screen time. Would you like one of those?"

Ning Hao immediately deflated upon hearing this.

Damn, so he's the only honest one.

"Why hasn't Wu Chen arrived yet?"

Han Sanping muttered something, and Ning Hao, seeing this, immediately picked up the phone. "I'll contact him."

Meanwhile, the outdoor passageway of the conference room.

After Wu Chen finished signing in, he walked along the road, and many reporters still jogged over to the conference room, greeting him and asking him questions along the way.
"Director Wu, did you ever direct a cameo role?"

"I made a cameo appearance, I made a cameo appearance."

Wu Chen walked along, nodding and smiling. He was wearing a trench coat and seemed much more at ease than many of the guests who were dressed in formal attire.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

He took it out and saw that it was Ning Hao.

"Are you here yet?"

"We've arrived, we're right outside."

(End of this chapter)