Huayu Entertainment: Starting with Exorcising Evil from a Film Queen

Chapter 92, completed and filmed (4K)

Zhang Ze followed her gaze and then realized what was happening.

"cough."

Zhang Zeqian coughed and withdrew his hand.

A rare hint of embarrassment appeared on his face.

"I'm used to it."

Yang Mi was straightening the hem of her disheveled hoodie when she heard this and paused in her actions.

She raised her head, her large eyes narrowing slightly, revealing a dangerous glint.

She sneered, crossed her arms, leaned back, and distanced herself from Zhang Ze.

"You've gotten used to it? Who did you learn this habit from? Was it Tang Yan?"

When Tang Yan's name was mentioned, Yang Mi's tone was noticeably sour.

She noticed something was off between the two when they were on the set of "Chinese Paladin 3".

She even threw a small tantrum at one point.

"Of course not."

Zhang Ze answered decisively, without changing his expression.

This is not exactly a lie. Although he and Tang Yan had a relationship, that was last year's old calendar.

Since filming wrapped on "Chinese Paladin 3", the two have been busy with their own things and have barely seen each other, except for occasional text messages. How could they have had the opportunity to cultivate this habit?

As for who developed this habit, that's another question.

Yang Mi stared into Zhang Ze's eyes for a few seconds.

Zhang Ze's gaze was clear and open, without the slightest hint of evasion.

Yang Mi pursed her lips and looked away.

"I doubt you'd dare."

She snorted, turned around and sat back down in the ergonomic chair, but this time, she deliberately moved the chair to the side to keep a safe distance from Zhang Ze.

"Alright, we've watched enough movies."

Yang Mi pressed the back of her hand against her burning cheeks, trying to cool down the blush on her face.

She didn't want to dwell on the topic or appear to care too much.

"When do you plan to release your movie in theaters?"

She pointed to the frozen image on the screen.

"I don't plan to release it in theaters; I intend to send it to Cannes first."

"Cannes?" Yang Mi's eyes widened as she looked at him in disbelief. "You're so ambitious with your first film? That's an A-list international film festival."

In this era, Cannes is a legendary venue for Chinese filmmakers.

Being shortlisted is like getting a gold medal; winning an award is like ascending to heaven.

"You—are you that confident?"

Yang Mi looked Zhang Ze up and down, as if she wanted to get to know this man again.

"About 70%."

Zhang Ze smiled.

"This film was made with the aim of winning awards. The script, cinematography, and actors were all tailor-made to the judges' tastes."

Barring any major setbacks, making it into the main competition shouldn't be a problem.

There are some things Zhang Ze didn't mention. This film won an award at Cannes, including a Special Jury Prize, and was even nominated for the Palme d'Or.

Zhang Ze's requirements are not high. He just wants to be shortlisted. He can make money by selling the copyright. If he can win a small award, he can make a fortune.

Yang Mi opened her mouth, but couldn't say anything for a long time.

"Great job, Director Zhang."

"If I really win the award, will I have to bow and call you 'teacher' whenever I see you in the future?"

Yang Mi is truly convinced this time.

She hadn't expected Zhang Ze to have such great ambitions.

"No need for that."

Zhang Ze waved his hand and gripped the mouse again.

"Just treat me to hot pot sometime. Remember to order a couple extra plates of tripe."

Yang Mi burst out laughing.

That smile completely dispelled the awkwardness from before.

"Dream on." Yang Mi rolled her eyes at him. "Hurry up and edit your video."

She raised her hand to tidy her slightly messy bangs, and then zipped up her down jacket to the top, covering the neckline of her pink sweatshirt.

He then picked up the baseball cap that was on the table, put it back on his head, and pulled the brim down low.

"I'm off, I still have to go back and memorize the call sheets."

Yang Mi walked to the door, placed her hand on the doorknob, and paused for a moment.

"Remember to call me."

The cramped editing room fell silent once more.

Zhang Ze raised his hand and gently brushed his fingertips against his lips; the faint milky scent seemed to linger.

He turned around, his gaze returning to the still-heating display screen.

The mouse pointer hovered over a folder named "Final Version" for two seconds, then double-clicked to open it.

For the next few days, Zhang Ze practically lived in the editing room.

Apart from necessary washing and eating, he spent all his time piecing together those frames of images.

Until one early April morning, willow catkins began to fill the sky above Beijing.

Zhang Ze pressed the save button, watched the progress bar reach 100%, and let out a long sigh of relief.

He picked up his phone and turned it on.

The moment the screen lit up, dozens of missed calls and text messages popped up one after another.

Most of them came from Sun Ying, and a few were from Hu Ge and Chen Zhixi.

Zhang Ze dialed Sun Ying's number.

"Boss! You've finally turned it on!"

Sun Ying's anxious voice came through the receiver, accompanied by background noise, such as someone moving things and the phone ringing incessantly.

"What happened?" Zhang Ze switched his phone to his other hand and gulped down the half-cold cup of coffee on the table.

"Things have changed." Sun Ying's voice was very low. "The higher-ups have issued a document to regulate the entertainment industry. Although it hasn't been officially announced yet, the rumors are already spreading like wildfire in the industry."

Zhang Ze ran his fingers over the inside of the coffee cup.

This day is finally here.

"Be specific."

Sun Ying paused, her voice trembling with a hint of tears.

"The organizers of the two commercial performances that were previously agreed upon just called to cancel them, and they didn't even ask for the deposit back; they just broke the contract. The event with the watch brand is also off. They said that things are tense right now, and they don't dare use entertainment stars for extensive promotion."

Zhang Ze leaned back in his chair, looking at the yellowish water stains on the ceiling.

As expected.

The round of regulation in 09 came and went quickly, but it did seriously damage many companies that were at their peak, not to mention those projects built on hot money.

"What's the panic?" Zhang Ze's voice was steady and powerful, and through the electric current, it strangely soothed Sun Ying's anxiety.

"Cancel it if you want, but still charge the penalty. Organize the itinerary. If you don't have commercial engagements, there are still public service engagements, right? Whether it's going to an orphanage or promoting environmental protection, get them all arranged for you."

"Charity? But we don't have the money for that—"

Zhang Ze interrupted her, "At this time, anyone who dares to step forward and try to make money will become a target. What we need to do is build our reputation, maintain our exposure, and also gain a good name."

Sun Ying paused for a moment on the other end, then realized what was happening and her tone became much calmer.

"Understood, I'll take care of it right away. Oh, by the way, what about Zhao Liying—"

"What's wrong with her?"

"Her film crew hasn't stopped filming, but the investors are demanding a pay cut. She's throwing a tantrum over there, calling me several times to ask if she can avoid signing a supplementary agreement."

Tell her to sign.

Zhang Ze stood up, stretched his stiff neck, and heard his joints cracking.

"It's okay to take less money. At this time, having a role to play is the biggest win. Tell her not to focus on those small gains. Acting well is more important than anything else."

After hanging up the phone, Zhang Ze unplugged the portable hard drive from the host computer and put it in his pocket.

When I stepped out of the office building, the sunlight outside was a bit dazzling.

The streets were still bustling with traffic, but most passersby were unaware that the entertainment industry was experiencing a sudden downturn.

Zhang Ze hailed a taxi and headed straight for the temporary office in Chaoyang District.

Pushing open the door, the room was filled with smoke.

Chen Zhixi sat on the sofa, the ashtray in front of her piled high with cigarette butts.

She looked much more haggard than a month ago, and the dark circles under her eyes couldn't be covered even with thick foundation.

During this period, as a producer, she faced greater pressure than Zhang Ze.

Investors withdrawing their funds, projects failing, and policies tightening—each piece of news felt like a heavy blow.

Seeing Zhang Ze enter, she stubbed out her cigarette and forced herself to stay alert.

"They're here."

Chen Zhixi pointed to the sofa opposite her, her voice a little hoarse.

"Sit down. What would you like to drink? We only have instant coffee."

"No."

Zhang Ze walked over and sat down, placing the portable hard drive he was holding on the coffee table and pushing it in front of Chen Zhixi.

"The master tapes of 'Like Father, Like Son' are all here."

Chen Zhixi's gaze fell on the black cube, and her eyes flickered.

She reached out and picked up the hard drive, her movements very gentle, as if it were fragile porcelain.

"Finally finished."

"9

She let out a long sigh, leaned back on the sofa, and her tense shoulders relaxed a little.

"This is probably the only piece of good news amidst all the bad news lately."

Chen Zhixi gave a bitter smile.

"These past few days have been filled with lamentations in the industry, with many newly established small film and television companies closing down directly."

"You have no idea, I've lost a lot of hair these past few days. Several investors I've been in talks with have backed out. It's only because your film had a low budget, and you even paid for it yourself, that it would have flopped too."

Zhang Ze didn't reply, he just looked at her.

"Have you filled out the film festival application form?"

"Filled it out." Chen Zhixi took out a brown paper bag from the drawer under the coffee table and pulled out a stack of documents all in English.

"The deadline for the main competition at the Cannes Film Festival is next week. I've hired someone to translate the script and subtitles, and I'll send the film along with the script."

She handed the document to Zhang Ze.

"However, let me be frank. The situation isn't good this year, and given the subject matter—no one can guarantee the chances of it being shortlisted."

Zhang Ze took the document, glanced at it, and set it aside after confirming that it was correct.

"I'm still very confident about making the shortlist."

Chen Zhixi looked up at him, unsure of what to say.

"How much money is left in the account?" Zhang Ze suddenly asked.

Chen Zhixi paused for a moment, then picked up the ledger next to her and opened it.

"During filming, because you were rushing to meet the deadline and the location rental was cheap, we saved a lot. You also saved a lot by editing it yourself in post-production. Currently, we have a balance of 820,000 in the account."

She closed the ledger and looked at Zhang Ze.

"Are you planning to take this money back, or keep it as seed money for the domestic distribution and marketing campaign?"

In Chen Zhixi's view, more than 800,000 yuan is definitely not a small amount for a new director like Zhang Ze who is paying out of his own pocket.

Even if you don't take it back, keeping it for promotional purposes for its domestic release is the safest option.

Zhang Ze shook his head.

Not a single penny will be left.

1

He leaned forward, crossed his hands on his knees, and looked directly at Chen Zhixi.

"Here's all 820,000."

Chen Zhixi's hand trembled, and the account book almost fell to the ground.

"Give it to me? What do you mean?"

"It's not for you personally," Zhang Ze corrected, "it's for your public relations expenses."

"Public relations fees?" Chen Zhixi raised her voice. "What public relations fees require 800,000?"

"Public relations expenses for the Cannes Film Festival."

Zhang Ze tapped his fingers lightly on the coffee table.

"I want you to rent the best booth in Cannes, host a reception, invite film critics, and buy press releases. I want posters for 'Like Father, Like Son' plastered all over every wall next to the Palais des Festivals. I want every film distributor and judge going to Cannes to know that there is a film from China called 'Like Father, Like Son'."

Chen Zhixi opened her mouth wide, unable to close it for a long time.

She looked at Zhang Ze as if he were a madman.

"Are you crazy? You're throwing all 800,000 into it? What if we don't make the cut, or if we do but don't win? That money's like throwing it into the water—it'll be gone in a second!"

In this day and age, 800,000 yuan can buy a decent two-bedroom apartment in Beijing.

Is it worth gambling with a house for a vague and uncertain reputation?

"You can't catch a wolf without risking your cub."

Zhang Ze stood up and walked to Chen Zhixi. "You've seen the current situation in China. Even if we get the film license, we don't know when it will be shown on the big screen. If it gets blocked, the film is finished. So film festivals are the only way out."

"Moreover, I believe in this film."

Chen Zhixi stared at Zhang Ze for a full minute.

Finally, she took a deep breath, grabbed the cigarette pack on the table, took out a cigarette and put it in her mouth, but didn't light it.

"OK."

She slammed the cigarette down on the coffee table.

"Since you dare to gamble, I dare to go crazy with you."

A smile appeared on Zhang Ze's face.

"Then I'll have to trouble you. I'm going to join a film crew to earn money next, so I'll leave Cannes to you. I look forward to your next call, the one asking me to walk the red carpet in Cannes."

In mid-April, Zhang Ze bid farewell to Chen Zhixi and, with his assistant, boarded a van bound for the Zhuozhou Film and Television City in Hebei Province.

The production team of "The Myth" specifically chose this location to film in order to recreate the grandeur of the Qin Dynasty palace.

The scenery outside the car window gradually changed from skyscrapers to a gray, antique-style building complex.

The car was parked in front of the hotel where the film crew was staying.

Zhang Ze pushed open the car door, and a dry wind mixed with sand rushed into his face.

He pulled down the brim of his hat and took the suitcase from his assistant.

"Put your things in the room first, then go to the coordinator's office to get the notice sheet," Zhang Ze instructed, stepping into the lobby.

The assistant nodded and took notes, then took out his phone to contact the production crew.

Zhang Zegang stood at the elevator entrance. The elevator doors opened, and a man wearing a gray tracksuit and black-rimmed glasses stepped out.

He was holding a bottle of mineral water, and stopped in his tracks when he saw Zhang Ze.

Hugo pushed his glasses up, and a smile appeared on his iconic face.

"What a coincidence?"

Hu Ge stepped forward and punched Zhang Ze on the shoulder. "I was just about to go to the set when the director told me you were joining the crew today. I thought I wouldn't see you until tonight."

Zhang Ze loosened the suitcase handle and threw a punch back, the force perfectly controlled.

"Since you've taken this job, you definitely need to come and pay your respects as soon as possible." Zhang Ze sized up Hu Ge.

This guy looked much better than when we last met; the gloom between his brows had mostly dissipated.

It seems that the drinking session last time wasn't a waste of time; this guy really took it to heart.

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