Chapter 159: Going Home

In the VIP lounge of Xiangjiang International Airport, Xiang Fei held the sleeping Yangyang in his arms, gently patting his back. Zhou Huimin was organizing her carry-on luggage, glancing from time to time at the busy ground crew on the tarmac outside the window.

"A-Fei, 'It' really has no cards left this time." Zhang Guorong walked over with a coffee, lowering his voice with a smile. "Even the Queen of England has specifically requested you to make a film. If they want to move against you again, they'll have to think twice."

Xiang Fei's lips curved slightly: "Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river. Back then they forced me to flee to the mainland, now..." He lowered his head to look at his son in his arms, "I have to leave Yangyang's generation a world of peace."

Han Shanping set down the newspaper, his eyes glinting sharply behind his glasses: "A-Fei, how are you planning to respond to the Queen?"

"Leave them hanging for now." Xiang Fei said casually, "British money can be earned, but there's no rush to earn it. Wait until the Asian tour screening of 'Departures' is over."

Chen Kaige returned from the washroom and happened to overhear this, unable to resist chiming in: "You're putting on airs bigger than the Queen herself. But..." he laughed and sat down, "I like it."

The broadcast sounded the boarding reminder, and everyone rose to prepare. Xiang Fei carefully handed Yangyang to Zhou Huimin: "See you on the mainland."

"See you on the mainland!" everyone said in unison.

The plane had barely come to a stop when flashes of cameras flickered one after another outside the porthole window.

"Are these reporters part bloodhound?" Zhang Guorong frowned as he adjusted his suit, "Chased us from Berlin all the way to Xiangjiang."

Zhou Huimin put cartoon sunglasses on the drowsy Yangyang: "Be good, sweetie, hold tight to Mommy later."

The cabin door opened, and a wave of sound crashed in:

"Xiang Shao! How does it feel to become a director of three Grand Slams?"

"Lilies! Will you be acting in the Queen's biopic?"

"Vivian, look this way!"

Xiang Fei shielded his wife and son as he walked at the front, deaf to the questions. Suddenly an Apple Daily reporter squeezed to the front: "I heard you refused 'It's' request back then, is that..."

Xin Yi'an and Chen Lianshun, with twenty men in black suits, instantly formed a human wall: "Make way! Everyone make way!"

Under tight escort, the group quickly passed through the VIP corridor. Zhang Guorong shook his head as he walked: "More exaggerated than a concert tour."

"This is nothing." Xiang Fei spotted a familiar reporter from Ming Pao at the end of the corridor and slowed his pace slightly, "Reporter Wang, I'll give you three minutes."

Reporter Wang, as if he had struck gold, hurried to keep up: "Director Xiang, who do you most want to thank after the three major awards?"

"First, I want to thank my wife." Xiang Fei naturally put his arm around Zhou Huimin, "Without her taking care of the family, I couldn't have made good works." Zhou Huimin's ears turned slightly red, and Yangyang in her arms curiously reached out to grab Daddy's tie.

"Next, I want to thank Uncle Han." Xiang Fei continued, "If it weren't for him back then..."

In the stretch Mercedes-Benz, Zhang Guorong curiously rummaged through the car fridge: "Wow, you've got an '82 Lafite ready too?"

"Brother Qiang specifically instructed it." the driver said respectfully, "Said it's to welcome Xiang Shao back and wash away the dust."

Xiang Fei was mixing formula for Yangyang, not looking up: "First send brother to the Mid-Levels villa."

"Don't!" Zhang Guorong leaned over, "Didn't we agree to go to Yongsheng for the meeting?"

Zhou Huimin took the bottle and tested the temperature: "You all discuss business, I'll take Yangyang home to rest."

"Alright." Xiang Fei kissed his son's milky-scented little face, "I'll come back early tonight."

The motorcade split at the fork. Watching the car carrying his wife and son drive away, Xiang Fei's expression gradually cooled: "A-Shun, find out who sent that reporter just now."

"Understood." A-Yong handed over a tablet, "Just received news, 'It's' number two secretly met with Shaw Brothers people last night."

Xiang Fei sneered: "A last-ditch struggle."

In the Yongsheng conference room, Xiang Qiang was pounding the table: "Six Hollywood projects? The Queen's biopic? Are you trying to clone A-Fei?"

Xiang Fei pushed the door open and walked in: "Uncle Qiang, such a temper?"

The conference room instantly fell silent. Xiang Sheng hurriedly rose: "A-Fei! Perfect timing, these invitations you..."

"Turn them all down." Xiang Fei threw a stack of documents on the table, "First handle the Asian release of 'Departures', then..." He turned on the projector, and the screen displayed "'God of Gamblers' Preparation Document", "Make this."

Xiang Qiang's eyes went wide: "The third one, with Liu Fuying as lead?"

Meanwhile, in a certain private club.

"Useless!" A teacup smashed to pieces on the floor, "How would the Queen know about Xiang Fei?"

Several men in sharp suits were silent as cicadas in winter. One of them steeled himself: "It's said that Prince Philip watched 'Departures'..."

"Now all the media in Hong Kong are hyping him!" The white-haired old man on the main seat coughed violently, "Investigate! Investigate his connections with the mainland!"

In the corner, the editor-in-chief of Star Weekly said sinisterly: "How about starting with his son? I heard..."

"Shut up!" The old man raged, "Do you want MI6 to invite us for tea?"

At the Repulse Bay villa, Yangyang was babbling and learning to walk in the children's room.

Xiang Fei lay on the floor playing horse, his son giggling on his neck. Zhou Huimin came in with a fruit plate: "Don't go too crazy, he just finished his milk."

The phone rang, and Xiang Fei glanced at the British area code, pressing mute directly.

"Really not answering?" Zhou Huimin handed over a strawberry, "What if it's something important..."

"Nothing is more important than being with my son." Xiang Fei lifted Yangyang high, "Right, little lion?"

Yangyang drooled and called out: "Dada! Fly!"

The couple exchanged a smile. Outside the window, the setting sun dyed Xiangjiang gold.