This director only directs blockbusters.

Gao Yuanyuan wore a simple lotus root pink dress. Standing there, she was like a refreshing breeze. Unlike the meticulously crafted beauty in the banquet hall, she had a rare sense of comfort and naturalness.

"Miss Gao." Yang Ning stopped in her tracks.

"Just call me Yuanyuan." Her eyes curved slightly, her gaze clear and sincere. "I watched you talking with Director Lu just now; it was very interesting."

"I'm sorry to have made you laugh, Miss Gao." Yang Ning smiled, and his response became more relaxed in the face of such a frank gaze.

"I admire you." Gao Yuanyuan's tone was serious, not just polite. "What this industry lacks is someone like you who dares to speak the truth."

"I've seen Director Lu's film... I just happened to." She didn't continue, but simply shook her head slightly, a hint of understanding and helplessness flashing in her eyes, everything unspoken.

This subtle expression made Yang Ning feel more favorably toward her.

She wasn't naive; she simply chose a more detached approach.

The two exchanged contact information, and Gao Yuanyuan expressed her expectation for future cooperation in a sincere but not eager manner.

After saying goodbye, Yang Ning watched her turn and leave, silently making a mental note:

This is an actor worth watching. His acting style may be different, but his character is rare, mainly because he has developed his own aesthetic sense.

Having been given a second chance at life, I still need to collect what I need to collect, otherwise it will be difficult to deal with those reborn predecessors in the future.

Back in his seat, Fan Binbin casually asked, "Who did you run into?"

"Gao Yuanyuan".

"Oh." Fan Binbin paused for a moment, "She's a nice person, and has a good reputation."

"Um."

As the dinner drew to a close, the organizers announced the total amount of charitable donations—over three million yuan.

Applause erupted, the lights dimmed, and the music changed to a languid swaying tune. Couples were already strolling onto the dance floor.

Fan Binbin looked in that direction but did not make a move.

"Want to dance a song?" Yang Ning asked.

"No," she shook her head. "My feet hurt. They're from the high heels."

Yang Ning looked down. Sure enough, the back of her slender ankle was red, and even a little bit of skin was chafed.

Wear sneakers to training tomorrow.

"Know."

After sitting quietly for a while, Yang Ning said, "Let's go."

They quietly left through the side door, avoiding the reporters still waiting at the main entrance. The car was already waiting quietly.

After getting into the car, Fan Binbin kicked off her high heels and let out a long sigh of relief.

"Are you tired?" Yang Ning asked.

"I'm exhausted." Fan Binbin leaned against the car window, the sunlight streaming past her profile. "Everyone is smiling, but their words are full of hidden barbs."

"This is the norm."

"Are you used to it?"

"I can't get used to it." Yang Ning looked out the window at the flowing night scene. "But I have to endure it."

The car drove onto Chang'an Avenue. At ten o'clock at night, the streetlights shone brightly like a river.

Fan Binbin suddenly spoke softly, "Director Yang."

"Um."

"If...the movie flops, what will they say about us?"

Yang Ning thought for a moment, then said calmly, "They would say, 'I knew it wouldn't work,' 'Young people are indeed unreliable,' and '1.3 million has gone down the drain.'"

"and then?"

"Then, we'll probably slowly disappear from this industry."

You go back to making TV dramas, and I might take on some short films.

In a few years, no one will remember that we ever made a movie together.

Fan Binbin fell silent.

After a long silence, she whispered, "I don't want to disappear."

"Then don't let it smash."

The car arrived at the entrance of the training base.

Fan Binbin put her high heels back on and swayed slightly as she got out of the car.

Yang Ning supported her arm.

"Thank you." She steadied herself, quickly straightened her skirt and hair, and in an instant regained her impeccable star demeanor. "Training at six tomorrow morning?"

"Six o'clock."

"Okay." She turned and walked towards the dormitory building, but after a few steps, she turned back.

The night was hazy, but her eyes shone with an astonishing light.

"Director Yang."

"Um."

"We'll win, right?"

"certainly."

Fan Binbin smiled, this time a genuine smile, free of all pretense, carrying a touch of pure trust and expectation that belongs to someone her age.

Then she turned and left.

.........

Time is like an hourglass that cannot be held back. In the blink of an eye, it was time to start filming. On this day, before dawn, there were already twenty or thirty reporters blocking the entrance to the base.

A row of long guns and short cannons were set up, and a few old hands squatted on the curb smoking, their eyes fixed on the iron gate.

"I heard Lu Chuan posted another blog entry last night?"

"Not only that, Tian Zhuangzhuang also privately expressed his opinion, saying that young people nowadays are too impetuous."

"1.3 million! If this is squandered, Yang Ning will never be able to recover in his life."

The iron gate was pushed open with a clang.

Yang Ning walked out, wearing a black jacket and jeans, holding a walkie-talkie. Old Xu and Liu Yong followed behind him.

The reporters swarmed around them like sharks smelling blood.

"Director Yang! Director Lu Chuan said your film is a 'video game movie,' what do you think?"

The microphone was practically poking into his face.

Yang Ning stopped and glanced at the reporter. He was young, wore glasses, and had a "Film Weekly" badge hanging around his neck.

"I've read Director Lu's blog," Yang Ning said calmly, "but I have a question—has he ever played video games?"

The reporter was taken aback.

"If he hasn't played them, how would he know what video games are like?" Yang Ning continued. "If he has, then he should know that the storytelling in games today is on par with movies. Have you played The Last of Us? What about Resident Evil?"

The scene was quiet for a few seconds.

In 2002, not many people in China knew about these games.

"I...I wasn't talking about games..."

"Then what are you talking about?" Yang Ning interrupted him. "Movies and games are both narrative arts. Which one is superior to the other?"

If Director Lu believes that filming hardship and rural life constitutes art, that's his prerogative. But he shouldn't use his own standards to judge everyone else.

That was a very blunt remark.

Another reporter quickly interjected, "Director Tian Zhuangzhuang said young directors should take more time to reflect!"

Yang Ning smiled.

That smile carried a clear hint of mockery.

"Director Tian is a senior I respect," he said. "But he said that ten years ago, right? What era are we living in now? The internet age, the information explosion age. Reflection is important, of course, but what's even more important is—"

He paused, then looked around at the reporters.

"Know what the audience wants to see, and dare to film it, and be able to film it."

"Are you criticizing your seniors?" a reporter seized on the opportunity.

"What did I criticize?" Yang Ning retorted. "I said Director Tian's words are outdated. Is that criticism? That's a fact. Movies are made for people today, not for people from ten years ago."

He walked forward, and the reporters followed.

"Isn't an investment of 1.3 million too much pressure?" someone shouted.

Yang Ning didn't even turn his head: "Whether the pressure is great or not depends on the results. If the film is good, 130 million is a skill. If it's a flop, 1.3 million is a waste. The numbers aren't important, what's important is—"

He stopped and turned around.