This director only directs blockbusters.

Gao Yuanyuan turned and went back into the banquet hall. Yang Ning continued smoking, one cigarette after another.

The terrace door opened again. This time it was Fan Binbin.

She slipped out too, carrying her high heels in her hand, her bare feet on the ground.

"Director Yang, is it quiet here?" She threw her high heels on the ground and lit a cigarette for herself.

"It's too noisy inside."

"It's noisy." Fan Binbin exhaled a puff of smoke. "Just now, a producer said he wanted to tailor-make a movie for me, with an investment of 200 million."

I said I needed to read the script, and he said the script wasn't important; what mattered was that I was in it.

"What did you say?"

"I said thank you and goodbye." Fan Binbin smiled. "You taught me that if the script isn't good, I won't accept it no matter how much money you offer."

Yang Ning nodded.

The two smoked in silence.

In the distance, the night view of Beijing resembles a sprawling galaxy.

"Director Yang," Fan Binbin suddenly said, "after filming this movie, I suddenly felt a little... scared."

"What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid I'll never encounter such a great team or such a great role again." Fan Binbin looked at the cigarette in his hand. "I'm afraid the role of Lin Xue is the best I've ever played in my life."

Yang Ning did not respond.

He knew that feeling. After the peak, whether it's a downhill slope or an even higher mountain, nobody knows.

"Don't worry," he concluded. "As long as you want to act, there will always be better roles, and this movie isn't a standalone film; there will definitely be a sequel."

"You mean?"

"I said it."

Fan Binbin smiled and stubbed out his cigarette: "Then I believe you."

She put on her high heels and straightened her skirt: "I'll go in first, otherwise my manager will start nagging again."

she left.

Yang Ning stood on the terrace for a while longer, until the cigarette pack was empty.

Back in the banquet hall, the celebration banquet had reached its climax.

Han Shanping was speaking, holding a microphone, and his voice was amplified throughout the hall through the speakers.

"...The success of 'The Purple Cloud Era' is not only the success of a film, but also a breakthrough for the Chinese film industry!"

It proves that Chinese audiences need good movies, and that Chinese filmmakers can make good movies too!

There was thunderous applause.

"Next, please welcome Director Yang Ning to the stage!"

Yang Ning walked up. The lights followed him, making him squint.

Han Shanping handed him the microphone.

The hall fell silent. Everyone was looking at him.

Yang Ning held the microphone and remained silent for a few seconds.

"Thank you all for coming today," he said. "The success of 'Purple Cloud Era' is not solely due to my efforts."

It's the result of six months of hard work by hundreds of people, both in front of and behind the camera.

He looked at the second table: "Thank you, Huang Xiaoming, for practicing three hundred times for a single jumping shot."

Thank you, Fan Binbin, my knee injury still hasn't fully healed. Thank you, Zhou Xun, for pondering over just one look for three days and three nights.

He then looked at the table where Liu Yong, Lao Xu, and Xu Qin were sitting: "Thank you to the art department, thank you to the production team, thank you to everyone who sweated on set."

Finally, he looked at Han Shanping and Jiang Zhiqiang: "Thank you, Chairman Han, and thank you, Boss Jiang, for choosing to believe in us during the most difficult time."

The hall was very quiet.

"Some people say that this movie was a stroke of luck," Yang Ning continued. "I don't deny that there was an element of luck involved. But more than that, it was because this group of people dared to take risks, dared to venture, and dared to do things that others wouldn't dare to do."

He paused.

"So today's celebration banquet is not the end, but the beginning. The road for Chinese films is still long, and we have only just taken the first step."

The applause rang out again, louder and longer than before.

Yang Ning stepped down from the stage and returned to his seat.

The banquet continued. A three-tiered cake was brought out, with "2.05 million" written on it in chocolate.

Champagne towers were stacked, glasses were filled, and the golden liquid shimmered under the lights.

People raised their glasses, cheered, and took photos.

Yang Ning sat there, watching all of this.

The excitement is theirs.

And he's already thinking about his next movie.

It's not the end of the world, it's not ruins.

It's about speed, passion, the roar of the engine, and the scream of tires rubbing against the ground.

But he didn't say.

He simply raised his glass and clinked it with the person who came to offer a toast.

Smile, nod, say thank you. The fire in my heart has already ignited, burning brighter than the lights in the banquet hall.

It was almost midnight when the celebration banquet ended.

The crowd surged out like a receding tide. The drunkards put their arms around each other's shoulders, laughing and talking loudly, while the sober ones were busy looking for designated drivers. Car lights flashed haphazardly in the parking lot, and the sound of engines rose and fell.

Yang Ning stood at the hotel entrance, lit a cigarette, and looked at the chaotic scene.

Old Xu rushed out, his tie askew: "Director Yang, the car's arranged. Shall I take you home?"

"You go first," Yang Ning said. "I want to walk around for a bit."

"In the middle of the night..."

"fine."

Old Xu wanted to say something, but seeing his expression, he swallowed his words back: "Okay, call me if you need anything."

Most of the people had left. A night breeze blew, and the effects of the alcohol wore off a bit, making my mind much clearer.

Just as Yang Ning was about to leave, she heard the sound of high heels behind her.

Turning around, I saw Gao Yuanyuan emerge from the revolving door. Her champagne-colored long dress shimmered softly under the streetlights. She carried a small handbag in one hand and held her phone in the other, seemingly looking for her car.

"Still not gone?" Yang Ning asked.

Gao Yuanyuan looked up and saw him, then smiled and said, "The driver is stuck in traffic and said it will take another ten minutes."

"How about... we find a place to sit?" Yang Ning pointed to the coffee shop next to the hotel lobby. "To wait for the car."

"OK."

The coffee shop was nearly empty, except for a couple sitting in a corner, heads close together and talking quietly. The waiter, yawning, roused himself when he saw them come in.

"Two Americanos," Yang Ning said.

"Drinking coffee so late?" Gao Yuanyuan sat down and placed her small handbag on the table.

"I can't sleep anyway."

While waiting for their coffee, the two chatted casually.

"So many people were looking for you at the banquet," Gao Yuanyuan said. "I couldn't even squeeze in."

"It's all just polite talk." Yang Ning smiled. "Tomorrow, when you're sober, things will be the same as always."

"That's not necessarily true." Gao Yuanyuan looked at him, resting her chin on her hand. "You're a director with 200 million box office earnings now, your status is different."

"The director is still the same director."

"But people look at you differently now." Gao Yuanyuan paused. "Like how they look at me—before, they all said I was just a pretty face, but now... at least some people say my acting has improved."

The coffee arrived. Steaming hot, with a wonderfully bitter aroma.

Yang Ning picked up the cup and took a sip. It was hot, but refreshing.

"You're more than just a pretty face," he said.

Gao Yuanyuan's eyes lit up: "Really?"

"Really." Yang Ning looked at her. "You acted Zhou Zhiruo's transformation scene in 'The Heaven Sword and Dragon Saber' very well. The ruthlessness in your eyes can't be acted just by being pretty."

Gao Yuanyuan paused for a moment, then laughed: "You've seen that show?"