Chapter 190: News Bombardment

At 6:15 in the morning, Xiang Fei's phone vibrated wildly on the nightstand, its screen flashing with a blinding white light in the dim bedroom.

"Hello?" Xiang Fei fumbled to answer the call, his voice still thick with heavy sleep.

"Guide! I'm Lin Zhiqiang, the entertainment editor-in-chief of the Hebei Daily," an excited voice came from the other end of the line. "There's news that your new film is aiming for the Oscars. Can you reveal more details?"

Xiang Fei sat up abruptly, the silk duvet sliding off his body. He glanced at Zhou Huimin, who was still fast asleep beside him, and lowered his voice. "Editor Lin, it's only 6 a. m."

"But the entire media of Huaxia is waiting for this news!" Lin Zhiqiang wouldn't let up. "Just one sentence, Guide: is this film going for the Oscars?"

Xiang Fei hung up directly, but the phone lit up immediately again—"Reporter Wang from the Southern Morning Post calling." Irritated, he switched the phone to airplane mode; the metal body was already burning hot from being held.

Zhou Huimin rolled over and asked groggily, "What's wrong?"

Xiang Fei rubbed his temples. "The news leaked; the media has exploded."

At 7:30, in the dining room of the Xiang family villa.

"Daddy! You're all over the TV!" Five-year-old Xiang Yang, holding a spoon smeared with jam, pointed excitedly at the television on the wall.

Zhou Huimin's hand, which was pouring milk for her son, paused. On the TV, a beautiful anchor from the Toilet Channel was broadcasting in perfect diction: "According to this channel's exclusive news, international blockbuster director Xiang Fei's new work, Drive My Car, officially began filming today. This film, written and directed by Xiang Fei, aims for next year's Oscars..."

The scene cut to a street interview, where a girl who looked like a college student spoke excitedly into the microphone: "If Guide wins an Oscar, it will be the pride of all Huaxia filmmakers!"

"Change the channel," Xiang Fei frowned.

Zhou Huimin picked up the remote, but every channel was broadcasting related news:

"... Hong Jinbao has confirmed to play the male lead, Kaoru Yusei. This will be the first time this martial arts superstar challenges an art film..."

"... Xiangjiang comedy actor Zhou Xingxing has joined the cast. It is rumored there will be a breakthrough performance in the film..."

"... Li Bingbing stood out from three thousand competitors to play a key role..."

"... Zhou Huimin will play the female lead in the drama. Everyone looks forward to this diva's performance..."

Xiang Yang blinked his big eyes. "Daddy, what is an Oscar? Can you eat it?"

Xiang Fei chuckled and rubbed his son's small head. "It's a very important trophy, bigger than your toys."

Zhou Huimin turned off the TV and poured a cup of black coffee for her husband. "The company will definitely be swarmed by reporters today."

At 8:40 a. m., as Xiang Fei's black Mercedes S600 turned into the auxiliary road of the Feimin Entertainment Building, Bai Long slammed on the brakes.

"What's wrong?" Xiang Fei, who had been reading the script, looked up.

Bai Long gave a bitter smile. "Brother Fei, you see for yourself."

Through the one-way glass, the plaza in front of the company was densely packed with people. Long-lens and short-barreled cameras, raised microphones, and flashing strobe lights—no fewer than fifty or sixty media outlets. Several security guards were struggling to maintain order, but the crowd kept surging forward.

"Enter through the back door," Xiang Fei decided firmly.

But it was too late—someone shouted, "That's the Guide's car!" and the crowd immediately surged like a tide.

"Bang!" A female reporter pressed her face against the car window, smearing a streak of glaring red lipstick on the glass.

"Guide! Say something about the new film!"

"How big do you think your chances are at the Oscars this time?"

"Why did you choose Li Bingbing to play the role?"

Cai Wen rushed out with eight security guards to clear a path. Xiang Fei struggled forward amidst the pushing and shoving of the crowd. Someone's microphone bumped into his forehead, stinging with heat.

The moment the elevator doors closed, Xiang Fei let out a long sigh, only then realizing his suit had been torn and wrinkled.

"This scene," Cai Wen handed him a wet wipe to wipe his sweat, "is even more exaggerated than the victory banquet for The God of Gamblers back then."

Xiang Fei adjusted his tie in the elevator mirror. "This is just the beginning."

Xiang Fei helplessly shook his head and continued reading the new newspaper. An editor-in-chief of a certain newspaper had written a long analysis:

"Looking at director Xiang Fei's career, Shoplifters won the Golden Bear in Berlin, Departures took the Golden Lion in Venice, and Parasite claimed the Palme d'Or at Cannes... Now, only one Oscar remains to complete an unprecedented sweep of international film festivals..."

At 10:00 sharp, Leslie Cheung's call came in. "Ah Fei! I just came out of the gym; the entire locker room is discussing your new film!"

At 10:20, a text message from Jackie Chan popped up. "Ah Fei, if you need a cameo, just say the word! This set of kung fu of mine shouldn't go to waste!"