A real killer playing a villain; the guy surnamed Zhen in Detective, run!

On the first day of the Lunar New Year, "The Great Barrier" was released nationwide.

The fact that it only accounted for 38% of screenings on the first day wasn't because the cinemas were being lenient; it was because of the pre-sale data.

The seven-minute long take of Gu Changfeng in the ruined city, filmed in one continuous shot, topped the trending searches at 10 a.m.

The most upvoted comment reads: "This isn't acting; it's a middle-aged man pouring all the frustrations of half a lifetime into the camera."

The box office exceeded 700 million yuan on the first day.

In the conference room of a film and television capital firm, the PPT was stuck on the "Analysis of Competitors in the Spring Festival Film Season" page. The data analyst projected the real-time box office curve onto the screen, and that line had never been flat since the beginning of the film.

The investment director threw his pen on the table and slumped back in his chair.

Ji Yan, the popular celebrity who was brought to the negotiations by President Liao, is now on social media with millions of netizens cursing Xinghuo Media. No one remembers that he almost got the lead role in "Echoes of the Dark Alley".

The phrase "content is king" is now etched into the very bones of the entire industry.

……

8 PM, Shanghai, Cloud Hotel rooftop banquet hall.

The celebration banquet for "The Great Barrier" was on a completely different level compared to the one for "Deep Sea Dragon." It was arranged by Shen Nanyin, held at a venue owned by the Shen Group, and even the floral arrangements were flown in from Paris.

The banquet hall was packed with people. Theater executives surrounded Shen Nanyin, toasting her. The tycoon's daughter held her wine glass and smiled politely. In just three sentences, she secured the guaranteed distribution amount for her next film.

On the other side, Lin Wanwan was surrounded by seven or eight media outlets in front of the sign-in wall, with microphones and recorders almost touching her face, which Xiao Ju shielded for her.

Gu Changfeng stood in the corner drinking whiskey. When an investor came over to chat, he nodded in response, but his eyes would occasionally glance towards the door.

Despite the lively atmosphere, the core members all knew that one person was missing tonight.

The balcony door opened, and Su Qinghan stood alone outside. Her black haute couture evening gown clung to her knees in the wind, and she hadn't touched the champagne in her hand; the bubbles had long since dissipated.

She stared at the distant city skyline, her phone resting on the railing, screen brightness turned up to maximum, signal strength at full strength.

There has been no news since we parted ways at Pudong Airport that day.

A gust of wind blew into her collar, and she raised her wine glass a little higher, the condensation on the glass sliding between her fingers.

In the banquet hall, at the far corner of the buffet table, Zhao Xiaoman was feeding Lao Liu a special freeze-dried snack. The airline crate was open, and Lao Liu lay on Xiaoman's lap, eating slowly and leisurely.

Lin Wanwan finally managed to escape from the crowd of reporters, walked over, squatted down, and reached out to pat Lao Liu's back.

"It's not very energetic today," said Little Orange.

Zhao Xiaoman didn't reply. She broke the freeze-dried food into small pieces and gently fed them to Lao Liu's mouth.

Sister Meng came over and patted her on the shoulder, "Xiaoman, have something to eat."

"Let's eat when Brother Lu comes back."

After he finished speaking, the surroundings fell silent for a moment.

Lin Wanwan's eyelashes fluttered, and she turned to look at the tightly closed banquet hall doors.

Just then, Lao Liu suddenly stopped chewing.

Its ears stood up, its tail changed from vertical to a question mark shape, and its golden vertical pupils were aimed at the back door.

Zhao Xiaoman looked down at it, "Sixth Brother?"

The cat ignored her, jumped off her lap, and stepped onto the marble floor with its four paws, walking step by step toward the back door, its pace quickening.

……

The security guard at the back door saw the man push the door open and his first reaction was to stop him.

His black windbreaker had three holes in it, and he was covered in dust and dark stains. His left arm was in a cheap sling, his hair was tangled up, and he smelled strangely of sea breeze and engine oil.

The scene was eighteen social classes below that of the banquet hall, and the security guard reached for his walkie-talkie.

A sharp, piercing meow rang out, and an orange shadow was launched into the air from a distance of more than ten meters.

It leaped over the heads of two waiters carrying trays, braced its hind legs against the shoulder of a cinema executive for leverage, and then slammed its entire body onto the ragged man's right arm, digging its claws into the hole in his jacket and refusing to let go.

Lu Yuan caught the cat with his right hand, bent his arm, and Lao Liu buried his head in the crook of his neck, purring loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear.

"Alright, alright," Lu Yuan rubbed his chin against the cat's head, "You've gotten fat, you've eaten too much again."

The security guard took his hand off the walkie-talkie; he recognized the face.

On the balcony, glass shattered, and Su Qinghan's champagne glass crashed onto the floor tiles, the golden liquid splashing onto her skirt. She had already turned around, separated from the crowd in the banquet hall.

She was running. Her skirt was too long, so she grabbed the side slit and pulled it up. The sound of her high heels on the marble floor was urgent and loud.

An investor was carrying a plate past her when she bumped into him with her shoulder, causing the salmon on the plate to fly off and get caught on the Chanel handbag of the female celebrity next to her.

Su Qinghan bumped into Lu Yuan's arms, her arms wrapped around his neck, her forehead buried in his collarbone, her shoulders trembling, her evening gown pressed down on the back by his still dusty right hand.

The room fell silent, then Zhao Xiaoman burst into tears. Lin Wanwan covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face. Shen Nanyin put down her wine glass, raised her hand, and pressed her index finger to the corner of her eye; her makeup couldn't be ruined.

Lu Yuan lowered his head and sniffed his shoulder.

"Stop rubbing," his voice was no different than usual, "I'm covered in engine oil. By the way, things are really expensive abroad, this tattered gauze cost me ten euros."

He looked up, past Su Qinghan's head, at the crowd: "Sister Meng! Did you find that discount barbecue coupon from last time? Has it expired?"

Sister Meng stood there, holding her phone, tears and laughter streaming down her face at the same time. "It's not expired! Three more days!"

"Then let's go tomorrow, the whole group, it's on me."

Su Qinghan lifted her face in his arms, her eyes red and swollen, but the corners of her mouth curved up.

She wiped her face and punched him hard in the right chest.

Lu Yuan let out a "yelp," "Be gentle, there are injuries over there too."

The sixth brother, feeling squeezed between the two, was unhappy and reached out a paw to pat Su Qinghan's chin.

The whole audience laughed; the familiar Lu Yuan was back.

……

Six months later, on the set of "Echoes of the Dark Alley," in the old city of Shanghai.

Lu Yuan was wearing floral shorts and a faded old-fashioned shirt, with fifteen-yuan plastic slippers on his feet, and he was arguing with the martial arts instructor while holding a walkie-talkie.

"For this rollover to absorb the force, you should let his right shoulder land first; the direction of the torque is opposite!"

After saying that, he tossed the walkie-talkie to the person next to him and walked to the cushion.

As soon as the two stuntmen took their positions, Lu Yuan reached out with his right hand and pulled them over. The two burly men, each over 1.8 meters tall, landed on the mat one after the other, their movements as smooth as if they had rehearsed twenty times.

"See? Relax your waist. Let's do it again."

After filming the demonstration, he didn't linger and went straight to the production assistant's desk.

"The meal allowance for extras was supposed to be thirty-five, explain to me how it became thirty."

The assistant, sweat beading on his forehead, said, "Brother Lu, prices have gone up, and what about the lunchbox supplier...?"

"Whether the price goes up or not, go talk to the supplier. The contract says thirty-five, so it's thirty-five. Do you think they don't care about a five-dollar difference? We're all just trying to make a living."

Just then, there was a commotion outside the film set.

A police car stopped outside the cordon, the door opened, and Jiang Yan got out.

Jiang Yan was different today. Her navy blue uniform, as a first-class police inspector, was perfectly pressed without a single wrinkle, her hat was worn neatly, and her sidearm was holstered with the snap fastened.

She was holding a dark blue velvet box.

The crew members on set quickly made way for them, unaware of what had happened.

Jiang Yan walked up to Lu Yuan.

Lu Yuan, still munching on half an apple, mumbled, "Hey, Captain Jiang, what brings you here? The case?"

Jiang Yan didn't reply. She opened the velvet box, inside which was a medal with a gold base, specially approved.

She handed the box to Lu Yuan, then took a step back.

Stand at attention. Salute.

"The police thank you for your outstanding contributions to dismantling transnational criminal organizations."

The entire set was completely silent. The extra dropped his lunchbox and chopsticks, and the martial arts director stared with his mouth agape.

The production assistant looked back three times to make sure he hadn't mistaken the person—the stingy, handsome guy who had haggled over a five-dollar meal allowance.

Lu Yuan threw the apple core into the trash can, took the box, glanced at it, and asked, "Can this be reimbursed?"

Jiang Yan almost lost her composure while saluting.

……

Three months later, Yuanhan Studio, in conjunction with Shenshi Entertainment, held a five-year strategy launch conference, announcing six projects simultaneously, covering three tracks: science fiction, suspense, and realism.

Lu Yuan's "niche production system" was included in an industry white paper, but that came later.

At this moment, in a luxury apartment in Shanghai, it is 6:30 pm.

The balcony is large, and the setting sun's rays stream in from the west, warming the floor to a pleasant hue.

Lu Yuan nestled in the beanbag chair, cradling his sixth son, who had gained two pounds more. The orange cat lay on its back, paws in the air, purring like a small engine.

A stainless steel thermos rests on the armrest, with the words "Commemorating the premiere of 'Deep Sea Dragon'" printed on the inside. Inside are goji berries and red dates.

The balcony door opened, and Su Qinghan stepped out, her hair loose and wearing fluffy slippers. She had just hung up a call with a multinational distributor in North America to discuss streaming revenue sharing for "The Great Barrier".

She stood by the sofa for a while, looking at the scene before her, then sat down and leaned on his shoulder.

"What do they say in North America?"

"The revenue sharing ratio is still being negotiated."

"How many?"

June Fourth.

"73%, don't sign if it's below 73%."

Su Qinghan smiled but didn't say anything.

The setting sun slid down a bit, its light changing from gold to orange-red, bathing the two people and a cat.

The sounds of the city are distant and quiet.

(End of the book)