Back to 17, My Brother is the Cult Leader

Fang Yuan is actually very grateful to Director Feng.

After all, it gave him a stepping stone to fame.

It also allowed him to see certain people and certain things clearly.

He knew about the award immediately when the news came.

Outsiders have no way of knowing who told him or how.

But one thing is certain: his phone rang many times that night.

When I hung up the last phone call, it was almost dawn.

He lay motionless on the bed, staring at the upper bunk, his mind revolving around only one thought—

I'm a freshman.

At this time last year, he was preparing for the college entrance examination and never dreamed of the Berlin Film Festival.

Now, a Silver Bear trophy, separated by an entire Eurasian continent, has fallen upon his head.

I just lay there until my usual time to get up.

The news appeared in the newspapers early the next morning.

Extra! Beijing Evening News: A freshman from the Central Academy of Drama wins the Silver Bear at Berlin.

The newspapers, printed in black and white, were front-page headlines and sold out as soon as they were put on the newsstands.

The newspaper vendor later told people that he had gone to buy newspapers three times that morning, and his voice had become hoarse from shouting.

The news spread like wildfire throughout the entire film and television industry.

In the school cafeteria, some people were banging on the tables and cheering, while in the dormitory building, some people were banging on washbasins and making a fuss.

The media storm has drawn considerable attention from the school's faculty and students, and many acquaintances have expressed their concern for him.

When Fang Yuan walked into the teaching building, some of the students he met gave him a thumbs up, some patted his shoulder hard, and some senior students he didn't know at all ran down from upstairs just to shake his hand and say "Awesome".

Fang Yuan was a little bewildered as he was surrounded by these people in the corridor.

He wanted to say something, his lips moved, but in the end he just smiled, squeezed through the crowd, and walked into the classroom.

I had class that morning.

He sat as usual in the third row by the window, opened his notebook, and waited for the teacher to arrive.

But this day was destined to be anything but ordinary.

The shift in public opinion came swiftly and completely.

Newspapers that were discussing whether Director Feng's statement made sense just a week ago have all changed their tune overnight.

Those comments that once loudly supported Feng have vanished without a trace, as if swept away by a strong wind.

Instead, there was overwhelming cheers and a deluge of hindsight commentary saying "we had been optimistic about Fang Yuan all along."

The previous support from the three universities has been brought up again.

Professor Lin Zhaohua's words were featured in large print as a headline, accompanied by the commentary "visionary and insightful."

Professor Wang Lina's lengthy article was reprinted by several newspapers, with the editors adding the phrase "Her foresight has finally been proven true" at the beginning of the article.

The statement by Zhu, the director of Shanghai Film Studio, that "Chinese films need more sources of inspiration" has been repeatedly quoted and has become a kind of prophetic saying.

The winds have shifted, and everyone wants to be on the winner's side.

Reporters flocked to the Central Academy of Drama, eager to interview the freshman who had suddenly become the center of attention.

Several media vehicles were waiting at the school gate, and even the gatekeeper was given cigarettes several times and asked, "Which building does Fang Yuan live in?"

Someone found out his class schedule and waited outside the classroom with a recorder and a camera, waiting for him to finish class.

Fang Yuan didn't see any of them.

After class, he packed his things and left through the back door.

Someone chased after him, but he quickened his pace without saying a word.

He didn't know what qualifications he had to stand in front of the camera and speak so eloquently.

I simply called to thank Mr. Zhu for his support and also asked him to convey my gratitude to the leaders of the Shanghai Theatre Academy.

But some things just have to be said.

It was Wang Jinghua who spoke up for him.

The day Director Feng launched his attack in the newspaper, Wang Jinghua was so angry that she smashed a cup.

She happened to be at the company that day when someone handed her a newspaper. After reading it the first time, her face darkened, and after reading it the second time, she smashed the ceramic cup next to her on the ground.

The shards were scattered all over the floor, and the assistant was too frightened to make a sound.

When she came to the school to discuss countermeasures with Fang Yuan, Fang Yuan stopped her.

"Sister Hua, ignore him."

Wang Jinghua became anxious: "Didn't you see what he said?"

He said you're insignificant! Do you know how much this will affect you in the future if it gets out?

What will people in the industry think of you? If you, a newcomer, don't speak up, who will take you seriously in the future?

Fang Yuan smiled and said a few words.

Wang Jinghua still remembers how she felt at the time. In all her years as an agent, she has managed countless new talents, but she has never heard a young person under twenty years old say such a thing to her.

But after news came from Berlin, Wang Jinghua felt it was time.

She didn't hold a grand press conference, nor did she invite all the media; she only invited the Beijing Evening News.

The location was in her office.

Wang Jinghua did not directly answer the reporter's question.

"On behalf of Fang Yuan, I would like to formally state today: First of all, Fang Yuan agrees with Director Feng's criticism."

He is indeed a young lad, only 19 years old this year, too young.

In addition, Fang Yuan said that he is only a freshman and there is indeed a lot to learn.

He will continue to work hard.

"These are Fang Yuan's exact words!"

She looked up at the reporter and added another sentence.

This time it wasn't written by Fang Yuan, it was written by her own:

"When Director Feng's words were published that day, he stopped me from issuing a statement."

He said, "Sister Hua, anything you say now sounds like sophistry. Let's wait and let the work speak for itself."

The work speaks for itself; that's the truth.

The reporter followed up with, "So, do you think there's still a possibility of reconciliation between Fang Yuan and Director Feng?"

Wang Jinghua thought for a moment and then said something quite interesting:

"They don't need to reconcile. Because there was never any personal grudge between them."

A senior artist had a comment on a junior artist's work and expressed it; the junior artist responded with their own work.

The film industry doesn't need a harmonious atmosphere; what it needs are people who take filmmaking and screenwriting seriously.

"Director Feng directed 'The Dream Factory,' and Fang Yuan wrote 'Lost in Thailand' and 'The Night of the Comet.'"

They all contributed to Chinese cinema. No one can erase this fact just because they said a few words about one of them.

"But there's one thing I need to make clear—"

If anyone ever says Fang Yuan is "not worth mentioning" again, please take a look at that Silver Bear trophy on his desk. It's not just for show.

The report appeared in the newspaper the next day with the headline—

Fang Yuan's Silence and Silver Bear's Response.

The entire article took up half a page.

There were no insults, no emotional appeals, only Fang Yuan's few calm sentences, as if he were reciting a textbook.

But everyone knows that these words carry more weight than any angry accusation.

Because the person who said this had a Silver Bear trophy in his hand.

The person who said he was "not worth mentioning" half a month ago has nothing now.

After the report was published, reporters went to confront Director Feng again.

He had been squatting downstairs at his studio for several days, with the curtains drawn the whole time, and no one came out.

A colleague slipped a newspaper under the door, but the assistant picked it up. It's unclear whether Director Feng even saw it.

On Fang Yuan's side, everything was as usual.

Fang Yuan didn't pay much attention to the media hype.

He's currently worried about Ellie on the other side of the ocean.

too crazy!