This director only directs blockbusters.

Those seated at the head table are all true big shots.

Han Shanping sat in the main seat, and to his left was Jiang Zhiqiang, who had flown in from Hong Kong. He was dressed in a well-fitting suit, with a gentle smile but sharp eyes.

On the right is the CEO of Shanghai Film Group, his hair is slicked back and he is talking to the person next to him.

On either side were the Wang brothers from Huayi Brothers, Yu Dong from Bona Film Group, and Wang Changtian from Enlight Media, each with a shrewd look on their faces.

"Director Yang is here!" Jiang Zhiqiang saw him, stood up and shook hands with him, the strength just right and the timing perfect. "Sit down, sit here." He pointed to the empty seat next to him.

Yang Ning sat down next to Jiang Zhiqiang. A waiter immediately came over to pour him a drink.

"I've heard about what happened in South Africa." Jiang Zhiqiang turned slightly to the side and spoke in a voice only the two of them could hear, with a slight Hong Kong accent, "You handled it beautifully."

In such a sudden situation, anyone else would have panicked and either tried to fight back or backed down.

"You were able to keep the production crew calm and even turn the situation into positive publicity; that shows you're clear-headed and responsible."

"It was just luck; Nicholas Tse happened to write that article," Yang Ning said.

"It's not luck." Jiang Zhiqiang shook his head slightly, swirling the wine glass in his hand. "It's because he's clear-headed, knows what he should and shouldn't do, when to advance and when to retreat. Young man, that's rare."

Han Shanping chimed in with a laugh, "Alright, Lao Jiang, stop praising him. You'll get carried away. Yang Ning, come on, have a drink to relax."

After several rounds of drinks, the atmosphere became increasingly lively. People kept coming over to offer toasts and say flattering things.

Yu Dong approached with a wine glass, his face slightly flushed, but his eyes bright: "Director Yang, I must toast you. It's a real pity that Bona Film Group missed out on 'Purple Clouds'."

We absolutely have to collaborate on *Dragon Shield*. Don't forget me next time you have a project. Terms are easy to negotiate.

Wang Changtian also arrived, more refined, and lightly clinked his glasses with Yang Guang's: "Director Yang, you're always welcome at Enlight Media. We have advantages in both investment and distribution. Let's discuss it in detail later."

Yang Ning clinked glasses with everyone, drinking quite a bit of alcohol, but his mind became increasingly clear, as if a block of ice was deep inside him.

He had seen these people's smiling faces many times before. Behind those enthusiastic words lay assessments, calculations, and a weighing of benefits and risks.

In his previous life, he often could only stand in the corner, watching these people fawn over others, their faces bearing the same smiles as they do now. In this life, he is surrounded in the middle, becoming the center of attention.

But the warmth in their smiles is actually no different.

He took a sip of the drink, the spicy liquid rolling over his tongue, but he didn't take it to heart.

Halfway through the banquet, when the atmosphere was at its most lively, Han Shanping quietly approached him, patted him on the back, and whispered, "Come with me for a moment, someone wants to see you."

"Who?"

"You'll know when you get there." Han Shanping didn't say much, but there was a rare seriousness in his eyes.

Yang Ning put down his wine glass and followed him through the noisy banquet hall, into a relatively quiet corridor, and then turned into an inconspicuous small private room at the end of the corridor.

The private room was quiet, with only one person sitting inside.

He was around sixty years old, with gray hair neatly combed, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and a dark gray Zhongshan suit, sitting upright. A cup of tea sat before him, steaming gently.

Yang Ning paused for a moment.

He recognized this person—he'd seen him in the news in his previous life, and from afar on the stage at an industry conference. It was Li, the deputy director of the State Administration of Radio, Film and Television, in charge of film.

"Comrade Yang Ning." Deputy Director Li stood up as he entered, extended his hand, and wore a gentle but distant smile. "Welcome back to China. You've had a long journey."

Yang Ning quickened her pace and grasped his hand. The hand was dry and strong; she held it for a moment and then let go.

"Director Li, hello. I didn't expect you to come."

"Sit down." Deputy Director Li gestured to the chair next to him and sat down himself, his movements unhurried. "I've heard a detailed report from Chairman Han about the South Africa matter. You handled it very well, considering the overall situation and acting with discretion."

Yang Ning sat down in the chair, her back straightening unconsciously: "It mainly relied on the protection of the motherland, and the rest is thanks to the crew members. Everyone was very united."

Deputy Director Li picked up his teacup, blew on it gently, took a sip, and as he put the cup down, the ceramic base tapped against the glass turntable, making a crisp, light sound.

"I read Nicholas Tse's article," he continued, his voice steady, revealing little emotion. "It was written sincerely, with feeling, and without exaggeration."

The People's Daily reposted it, and the social response was very positive. Several major media outlets in Hong Kong also gave positive coverage.

He paused, his gaze falling on Yang Ning's face through his glasses.

"Your trip abroad this time not only involved making films, but also brought honor to the country. You showcased the professionalism and spirit of Chinese filmmakers overseas. The higher-ups highly appreciate this."

Yang Ning nodded, carefully choosing his words: "Thank you for your recognition, leader. We just did what we were supposed to do, trying our best to do our job well and not bring shame to the country."

Deputy Director Li smiled, this time with a touch more warmth: "Young man, down-to-earth, not seeking credit, good." He tapped his finger lightly on the table, "Keep up the good work."

Don't worry about submitting "Dragon Shield" for review after editing; just follow the procedures. If you need any coordination, just contact Han Shanping.

"Thank you for your concern, Director Li."

After a brief, unrelated chat about industry matters, Deputy Director Li glanced at his watch, stood up, and said, "I have other things to attend to, so I'll be leaving now. You young people have a good time together."

Han Shanping quickly saw him out. The door to the private room closed gently, shutting out the faint noise from outside.

Yang Ning sat alone in the quiet private room, able to hear her own steady breathing.

The tea was still hot. He picked up Deputy Director Li's untouched cup and took a sip. It was ordinary green tea, a little astringent.

After a while, Han Shanping pushed the door open and came back, a relieved smile on his face, rubbing his hands together: "How was it?"

"It's alright." Yang Ning put down his teacup, neither humble nor arrogant.

Although it was the first time he had met such high-ranking leaders, as a reborn individual, he believed that he would definitely be able to stand at the same level as them in the future.

"Not bad?" Han Shanping chuckled, sat down next to him, poured himself a cup of tea, and drank it down in one gulp. "Do you know how much trouble that guy's words just now saved us? Reviewing the film, scheduling, promotion—how many steps will go smoothly from now on?"

Yang Ning certainly knew.

But he just took another sip of tea and didn't say anything.

Back in the banquet hall, most of the people had already left. The waiters began clearing away the glasses and plates, making a soft clinking sound.

Li Bingbing didn't leave. She took off her high heels, walked barefoot on the carpet, leaned against the window, held a small half-glass of red wine in her hand, gently swirled it, and looked at the continuous rain outside the window.

Her profile was somewhat blurred in the reflection of the glass. Gao Yuanyuan sat on a low stool next to her, hugging her knees, also quietly looking out the window, lost in thought.

Nicholas Tse and Hu Jun were standing at a small table on the other side, talking to two producers who hadn't left yet. Nicholas Tse was gesturing as if he was talking about his experiences in South Africa.

Deng Chao was already quite drunk, slumped over the table, mumbling out off-key songs.

Xue Kaiqi squatted by the sofa in the corner, holding her thick notebook, and buried herself in writing and drawing by the light of the floor lamp, the pen tip making a soft scratching sound on the paper.

Seeing Yang Ning come in, she looked up, smiled shyly, adjusted her glasses, and then lowered her head to continue writing, like a student rushing to finish her homework.

Yang Ning walked to the window, the carpet absorbing the sound of her footsteps.

"What are you looking at?" he asked, his voice low.

Li Binbin turned her head, her face flushed with a slight intoxication, her eyes a little unfocused, but when she saw him, the corners of her mouth curved into a smile.

"Watching the rain," she said, her voice a little unsteady. "I spent three months in South Africa, the sun was so strong it could melt you, I almost forgot what rain is like." She raised her hand, her fingertips lightly touching the cool glass. "It's cool."

Gao Yuanyuan chimed in softly, her gaze still fixed on the neon lights blurred by the rain outside the window: "The rain in Beijing smells different from the rain in South Africa. The rain here smells of dust, and it's a bit...cold."

Yang Ning nodded without saying anything.

The three of them stood quietly for a while, none of them speaking again. The noise of the banquet completely faded away, leaving only the pattering rain outside the window, tapping against the glass like a stubborn, never-ending rhythm.

Rain streaks rippled across the night view of the city outside the window, turning the lights into flowing, colorful patches of color that blurred into a single mass.

Li Binbin suddenly spoke, his voice very soft, as if asking Yang Ning, or perhaps himself: "Director Yang."

"Um?"

"What's next?"

Yang Ning looked out the window. After the rain, the city continued to function, with cars flowing like rivers and lights twinkling like stars.

"Edit the video," he said.

"and then?"

"Released."

"And then what?"

Yang Ning turned to look at her. She was also looking at him, her eyes shining brightly in the dim light, filled with earnest inquiry and a hint of barely perceptible weariness.

"And then..." He paused, his gaze passing over her and looking into the deeper darkness of the night.

That's the direction of the editing room, filled with countless materials waiting to be processed, and works yet to be completed.

It is an immense pressure that cannot be seen but can be felt, and an unpredictable future full of variables.

"We'll see when the time comes," he said.

Li Binbin looked at him for a few seconds, then smiled. That smile was different from the standard smile at the banquet; it was genuinely relaxed, tinged with understanding and a touch of helplessness.

"Alright then." She raised the glass, still holding a sliver of red wine, to the window, as if looking through it at the entire wet, waiting city outside. "Then let's wish *Dragon Shield*—" she paused, raising her voice slightly, as if announcing a grand announcement, "a huge success!"

Gao Yuanyuan also raised her almost untouched glass of juice and gently clinked it against hers, her voice gentle but clear: "Great sales."

Yang Ning picked up a glass of water that someone had left on the table next to her and gently touched it with theirs.

The glasses clinked together, making a crisp and pleasant "ding".

He took a sip. The water was cold, sliding down his throat and instantly dispelling the last trace of alcohol, leaving behind a clear, cool sobriety.

Outside the window, the rain was still falling, neither too fast nor too slow, seemingly without any sign of stopping.

BJ, he's back. With an unfinished movie and a new beginning that's destined to be anything but peaceful.