This director only directs blockbusters.

Nicholas Tse, who was the last to leave, paused at the door.

"Director Yang."

"Um?"

"Thank you," he said earnestly. "Really."

"Train hard." Yang Ning patted him on the shoulder. "Don't let me down."

"Won't."

Everyone had left, and the villa became quiet.

Jiang Zhiqiang escorted Yang Ning and Wang Zhonglei to the door.

"See the spectacle tonight?" Jiang Zhiqiang said with a smile. "You're a hot commodity now; everyone wants a piece of you."

"I saw it." Yang Ning nodded.

"But remember," Jiang Zhiqiang's tone became more serious, "cooperation is fine, but don't get tied down. Your roots are in the mainland, and your future is in the mainland."

"I understand. Thank you, Brother Qiang."

The car drove down the mountain. Wang Zhonglei remained silent until they were almost at the hotel when he finally spoke.

"Director Yang, tonight... I've truly seen something new."

"What's wrong?"

"I used to think that Huayi Brothers was a big shot in mainland China," Wang Zhonglei said, shaking his head.

"Tonight, I saw Mr. Heung, Albert Yeung, Bill Kong, and Andy Lau, Nicholas Tse, and these people... This is the real circle."

"Now you're in the industry too," Yang Ning said.

Wang Zhonglei turned to look at him and smiled: "Yes, thanks to you."

It was already 1 a.m. when I got back to my hotel room.

Yang Ning took a shower, lay in bed, but couldn't fall asleep.

The scenes from tonight replayed in my mind like a movie—Mr. Xiang's江湖气 (jianghu qi, a kind of chivalrous spirit), Albert Yeung's shrewdness, Andy Lau's humility, Nicholas Tse's repression, Xue Kaiqi's timid appearance by the door, and the longing in Twins and Joey Yung's eyes.

These people, these relationships, these possibilities.

They were all connected because of the success of a movie.

And the next movie will connect to even more.

He picked up his phone and sent Gao Yuanyuan a text message: "Are you asleep?"

A few seconds later, the reply came: "Not yet, just finished showering. How's it going in Hong Kong?"

"I met a lot of people. Andy Lau might make a cameo appearance."

"Wow! Really?"

"Really. There's also a newcomer from Warner Music named Xue Kaiqi. He hasn't debuted yet, but he's quite talented."

"Then I need to work harder; I can't lose to them."

Yang Ning smiled: "You're different."

"Why is it different?"

"You are mine."

There was a pause over there for a few seconds.

Then he replied, "Yes. That's me."

Yang Ning put down her phone and walked to the window.

The night in Hong Kong is still awake. Neon lights continue to flash, and traffic continues to flow.

His path extends from Beijing to Hong Kong, and will continue to extend even further.

South Africa, Europe and America, the whole world.

All of this is because of movies.

Because of those lights and shadows, those stories, and those people who worked so hard.

He took a deep breath, turned off the light, and went to sleep.

Tomorrow will be another new day.

But the new battle has only just begun.

...............

Yang Ning had only been asleep for less than two hours when her phone vibrated.

I stumbled over in a daze, and the screen was blindingly bright—it was an unfamiliar Hong Kong number.

"Feed?" His voice was still hoarse.

There was a two-second silence on the other end, then a soft voice came through:

"Director Yang... I'm sorry to call you so late... This is Xue Kaiqi..."

His voice grew softer and softer, like a child who had done something wrong.

Yang Ning regained some consciousness and sat up: "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing, nothing serious..." came soft breathing from the other end of the phone. "It's just... I couldn't sleep when I got back to the hotel. I kept thinking about what you said tonight... about the record store girl role..."

She paused, her voice trembling slightly, "I'm afraid I can't do it. I'm afraid I'll embarrass you."

Yang Ning glanced at the time—1:40 a.m.

Where are you?

"Huh?" Xue Kaiqi was clearly taken aback. "I'm at the hotel, 19th floor, room 1912... the room arranged by Boss Jiang..."

"Wait."

Yang Ning hung up the phone.

I got up and put on jeans and a T-shirt. The hallway was quiet; the carpet absorbed all my footsteps.

The elevator descends, and the numbers tick: 28, 27, 26...

He didn't know why he went. Maybe it was because the voice was too timid, like a child afraid of the dark alone in an empty room.

The elevator dinged, indicating that we had arrived at the 19th floor.

The door to 1912 was closed, completely shut.

Yang Ning knocked three times.

The door opened a crack, revealing half of Xue Kaiqi's face. Upon seeing him, his eyes widened suddenly, like a startled deer.

"Director Yang..." She hurriedly opened the door, "What are you doing...?"

"Didn't you say you couldn't sleep?" Yang Ning didn't go in, but stood at the door.

Xue Kaiqi was wearing a hotel bathrobe, loose and oversized, with the collar tied tightly. His hair was still wet, with a few strands clinging to the sides of his face, making his clean-cut face appear even smaller in the dim light of the corridor.

"I..." She lowered her head, "I was just... too nervous. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you so late..."

"What happened to your hand?"

Xue Kai instinctively pulled her hand back. Yang Ning didn't move, just watched her.

She slowly extended her hand—the knuckle of her right index finger was broken, oozing blood, and there were red marks under her fingernails.

"After I got back to the hotel, I practiced the fight scenes you mentioned in front of the mirror," she said softly. "That wrench grabbing move... I practiced it so many times that I got a sore from it."

Yang Ning looked at her.

In 2003, Xue Kaiqi was twenty-two years old and had never acted before. He didn't even know how to generate power in action scenes. Alone in his room, he practiced a role he hadn't even landed yet in front of the mirror.

Do you have any band-aids?

"Ah...no..."

Yang Ning entered the room.

Xue Kaiqi took two steps back, somewhat at a loss. The suite was laid out the same as his own. There was a notebook spread out on the coffee table in the living room, and when he opened it, the page was covered with clippings from "The Purple Cloud Era"—Yang Ning recognized it as the one she had taken out that evening to ask for an autograph.

Next to it was an A4 sheet of paper, covered with dense drawings—a stick figure holding a rectangular object, with the words "wrench," "sideways," and "turning around with leverage" written next to it.

She drew the breakdown of the movements herself.

Yang Ning picked up the paper and looked at it for a few seconds.

"Did you draw this?"

"Hmm..." Xue Kaiqi stood to the side, twisting the strap of his bathrobe with his fingers. "I couldn't find storyboard tutorials for action movies online, so... I just drew them by guessing."

Yang Ning put down the paper and turned to look at her.

Give me your hand.

Xue Kaiqi paused for a moment, then slowly extended his hand.

He grasped her wrist and looked down at the wound. It wasn't deep, just a scrape, but the skin was broken and the edges were a little red. He gently pressed the area around it with his fingertips—Xue Kaiqi hissed softly, but didn't pull her hand away.

"pain?"

"A little bit……"

Yang Ning let go of her hand, took a bottle of mineral water from the bedside table, unscrewed it, and let her put her hand over so he could slowly rinse the wound.

Xue Kaiqi lowered her eyes, her eyelashes trembling. The water was cold, and her fingertips trembled slightly, but she didn't flinch.

After rinsing her clean, Yang Ning used the corner of a towel to absorb the water. The blood was still slowly seeping out.

"The hotel medical clinic should be closed." He looked around the room. "Do you have a clean handkerchief?"

"Yes..." Xue Kaiqi pulled out a neatly folded white handkerchief from his suitcase, with small flowers embroidered on the edges.