This director only directs blockbusters.

The screen lit up, showed a few GGs, and then showed trailers for other movies.

Yang Ning heard people whispering in the back row, and the sound of snack packaging being torn open.

Finally, the screen went completely black.

When it lights up again, it displays the logo of China Film Group.

Next up is the logo of Ningyuan Studio – the two characters "Ningyuan" – which emerge in the darkness.

The music started, the deep strings sounding like they were emerging from underground.

First shot: Rainy night, ruins, a hand reaching out from the rubble.

The movie ended after two and a half hours.

The credits started rolling up, and the theater was deathly silent.

No one spoke, no one moved. Not even a cough could be heard.

Until the screen went completely black, the lights slowly came on.

Applause started from the back row, sporadic, then spread rapidly to the front row like a contagion, finally turning into a thunderous roar.

Yang Ning sat there without turning around.

He could hear applause, hear people shouting "Awesome!", and hear cheers in Cantonese.

But he just stared at the screen, at the darkness where the story had just been unfolding.

"It's settled," Jiang Zhiqiang said in his ear, his voice trembling slightly.

Yang Ning nodded.

He stood up and turned to look at the audience.

Three hundred people were clapping. Some were standing, some were sitting, and their hands were red from clapping.

Huang Xiaoming's eyes were red and swollen, Fan Binbin was wiping away tears, and Zhou Xun was clapping and laughing, his hands making a loud clapping sound.

Chairman Chen walked over and grabbed Yang Ning's hand.

"Director Yang, disregard what I said before." He had a loud voice. "This film absolutely deserves the best screenings. During the Lunar New Year season, I'll give you 35% of the screenings in Hong Kong."

"Thanks, Chairman Chen," Yang Ning said.

Mr. Lin chimed in, "Leave the Southeast Asian side to me; this film is sure to be a hit."

Somchai gave a thumbs up: "Thai young people will absolutely love watching this, it's amazing!"

Liu Weiqiang was the last to arrive. He didn't shake hands, but simply patted Yang Ning on the shoulder.

"The younger generation is truly formidable," he said. "Chinese cinema needs people like you to thrive."

Reporters swarmed around.

"Director Yang! Did you expect the audience's reaction to be so explosive?"

"The special effects have been praised to the skies, what do you think?"

"Are people brimming with confidence about the Spring Festival film season right now?"

The problems were more numerous and urgent than those on the red carpet.

Yang Ning took the microphone.

"Thank you all for coming today," he said. "This movie took three months to shoot, and another three months for post-production. Six months, two hundred days. Every day when we finished filming, I asked myself, 'Will this work? Will it be a disaster?'"

He paused.

"Today, the audience in Hong Kong told me it's okay. Thank you everyone."

The applause rang out again, even louder than before.

The reception following the premiere was held on the second floor of the theater.

The long table was laden with food and drinks, and people were chatting in groups, holding wine glasses.

Yang Ning was surrounded, and questions came one after another.

"Director Yang, how many days did it take to film that battle scene on the city wall in one continuous take?"

"Three days, the photographer almost threw up from exhaustion."

"Were all the special effects done domestically?"

"Most of the time, foreigners helped a little."

"How did you handle the part about human nature in the story?"

"That's just human nature; just tell the truth."

Huang Xiaoming squeezed in, holding a wine glass, his face still flushed.

"Director Yang, a few film critics just chatted with me for a long time, asking me how I acted out the sense of despair." His eyes lit up. "I said, you made me crawl in the mud for three months, it would be hard not to feel despair."

Everyone laughed.

Fan Binbin walked over, having changed into a black dress, her makeup a little smudged.

"Director Yang, my agent just received three phone calls." Her voice trembled slightly. "They were all asking me to act in movies. They said they saw the film and felt I could play some different roles."

"You were born to act," Yang Ning said.

Zhou Xun leaned against the window, holding a glass of water, looking at the night view outside.

Yang Ning walked over.

"Why is everyone here all alone?"

"Let's get some fresh air," Zhou Xun said. "It's too noisy inside."

"Don't like crowds?"

"It's not that I don't like it, it's just that I'm a little uncomfortable." Zhou Xun turned to look at him. "Director Yang, I was thinking about something while watching the movie just now."

"What is it?"

"If Su Man were really alive, what would she say after watching this film?" Zhou Xun asked. "Would she think we acted like her? Or would she laugh at us?"

Yang Ning thought for a moment.

"She must have said," he mimicked Zhou Xun's tone, "'It was alright, but just alright.'"

Zhou Xun smiled.

"Yes, that's definitely what she said."

Outside the window, the night view of Victoria Harbour was dazzling. The cruise ship slowly passed by, leaving a trail of light behind it.

"Director Yang," Zhou Xun suddenly said, "thank you for letting me play Su Man."

"It's because you acted well."

"No." Zhou Xun shook his head. "You're the one who made me feel that I can act well."

The two remained silent for a while.

"Will we continue to cooperate in the future?" Zhou Xun asked.

"If you have a suitable notebook, just call me anytime," Yang Ning said.

The party went on until 11 p.m.

People gradually dispersed. Jiang Zhiqiang escorted Yang Ning and Xu Qin back to their hotel.

Jiang Zhiqiang remained silent throughout the car ride. He only spoke when they were almost at the hotel.

"Yang Ning, today's premiere is more than just a premiere," he said. "It's a signal. It's telling everyone that Chinese films can be made this way, and can be done this way."

"This is nothing," Yang Ning said.

"Yes, it's just the beginning." Jiang Zhiqiang looked at him, "but the start is even better than I expected."

The car was parked in front of the hotel.

"Go to bed early," Jiang Zhiqiang said. "We're going back to Beijing tomorrow. That's where the real battle begins."

Back in his room, Yang Ning didn't turn on the light.

He walked to the window and looked at the Hong Kong night view.

My phone vibrated.

It's a system message.

[The Hong Kong premiere of "The Purple Cloud Era" has been completed]

Audience satisfaction: 94%

[Media reviews: 87% positive]

[Expected theatrical release schedule: 32% on average in Asia]

He turned off his phone and continued looking out the window.

In the distance, the outline of the Hong Kong Cultural Centre is quite clear in the night.

A few hours ago, the place was full of people.

A few hours later, what those people said and wrote will spread like ripples on water.

It spread to newspapers, television, the internet, and reached the ears of even more people.

Then, they would go to the movie theater.

Or, no.

This is what movies are all about.

You spent six months working yourself to the bone to produce something.

Then throw it into the market and wait to hear the sound.

Today, Hong Kong gave a resounding response.

It was quite loud and clear.

But the real exam is on the first day of the Lunar New Year.

The moment when millions of ordinary people pay a few dozen yuan to buy a ticket and walk into the movie theater.

Yang Ning lit a cigarette.

The smoke slowly rose into the darkness.

He thought that three months ago, when they were wallowing in the mud in Huairou, they could never have imagined today.

I never expected to hear such applause while standing on the red carpet in Hong Kong.

But that's movie. It can crush you in the mud, or it can lift you to the heavens. The only question is, how long can it stay in that high place?

He stubbed out his cigarette and closed the window. Tomorrow, back to Beijing. A tougher battle awaits there.