Chapter 39: The Ni Family's Doomsday

The damp basement was filled with the stench of blood.

Ni Kuang was chained to the wall, his right arm dripping blood, his face as pale as paper. His right hand was gone.

Xiang Yan puffed on a cigar, looking at him coldly. "I gave you a chance, Ni Kuang."

Ni Kuang trembled all over from the pain but still gritted his teeth in a grimace. "Xiang Yan... do you think cutting off my hand means Wu Xiangqian can rest easy?"

*Slap!*

Ah Zhong stepped forward and slapped him hard. "You old fool, still daring to be stubborn?!"

Ni Kuang spat out a mouthful of bloody foam, his eyes venomous. "Where is my grandson... what have you done to Ah Zhen?!"

Xiang Yan sneered and waved his hand.

Two thugs dragged in a bloody figure—it was Ni Zhen. His crotch was a mass of blood; he had already fainted.

"You—!" Ni Kuang's eyes nearly burst from their sockets. "Xiang Yan! You've cut off the Ni family line!!"

Xiang Yan bent down and patted his face. "Don't worry, I fed your son's manhood to the dogs." He straightened up and said casually to Ah Zhong, "Drag him out and dump him on the street."

Three in the morning, Tsim Sha Tsui Pier.

Several drunkards discovered two blood-soaked figures lying beside a garbage heap—one an old man with a missing hand, the other a young man with his lower body a fleshy mess.

"Holy shit! Isn't that Ni Kuang?!"

"Call the police!"

By the time the ambulance arrived, Ni Kuang was on his last breath, yet he still clutched the paramedic tightly with his left hand. "Save my grandson... save my grandson first..."

In the Shaw Brothers office, Xiang Qian placed a copy of the finished film *Parasite* on Fang Yihua's desk.

"Sister Fang, enter it for Cannes."

Fang Yihua raised an eyebrow. "So confident?"

Xiang Qian lit a cigarette. "Absolutely."

Fang Yihua chuckled softly. "What about the Hong Kong Film Awards and the Golden Horse Awards?"

"Enter them all." Xiang Qian blew a smoke ring. "I want all of Asia to see what a real movie looks like."

Three days later, Fang Yihua called directly to the apartment.

"Qian-zai!" She rarely lost her composure. "We're in! We're in for everything!"

Xiang Qian had just woken up, his hair sticking up. "What?"

"Cannes Main Competition! Twelve nominations at the Hong Kong Film Awards! Nine at the Golden Horse Awards!" Fang Yihua waved the telegram excitedly. "Cheng Long is nominated for Best Actor at Cannes!"

Xiang Qian froze for two seconds, then burst into loud laughter.

Zhou Huimin emerged from the bedroom, sleepy-eyed. "What's going on?"

Xiang Qian scooped her up and spun her around. "We're going to France!"

The Peninsula Hotel ballroom, the *Parasite* nomination celebration banquet.

Cheng Long flew around the room with a glass of champagne. "Qian-zai! The head of the Cannes jury is my French friend; he said your film will definitely win an award!"

Lin Qingxia sipped her red wine elegantly. "Qian-zai, if you have a role like this again, count me in."

Zhou Xingchi lowered his head and said seriously, "Brother Qian, thank you for showing me that I can act in serious dramas."

Just as Xiang Qian was fielding congratulations from all sides, Fang Yihua suddenly pulled him into a corner. "The Ni family has made their move."

"Hmm?"

"The Film Bureau received a report claiming *Parasite* 'incites class hatred.'" Fang Yihua sneered. "Director Chen is reviewing the film tomorrow."

Xiang Yan swirled his wine glass, his gaze growing cold. "Then let him review it."

The next day, in the Film Bureau's screening room.

Director Chen, wearing wire-rimmed glasses, watched *Parasite* with an expressionless face.

"This film..." He pushed up his glasses. "Is very well made."

The secretary sent by Ni Zhen panicked. "Director Chen, this is clearly provoking conflict between the rich and the poor!"

"Bullshit!" Director Chen suddenly slammed the table. "This is exposing social reality! It is art!" He pointed at the secretary's nose and scolded, "Tell Ni Zhen not to bring his bureaucratic tricks into the film industry!"

The secretary slunk away.

Xiang Sheng stepped out from the shadows in the back row. "Thank you, Uncle Chen."

Director Chen took off his glasses and wiped his sweat. "Sheng-zai, your father once saved my life." He lowered his voice. "But the Ni family won't give up; be careful at the premiere."

In the Shaw Brothers editing room, Xiang Qian personally supervised the final color grading.

Fang Yihua pushed open the door. "The Cannes committee sent a telegram; the director must attend the premiere."

Xiang Qian didn't even look up. "Book the tickets."

"Sister Fang," Xiang Qian finally turned around, his eyes sharp as knives. "Do you think I'd fear a bunch of useless trash whose hands are cut off and whose lineage is ended?"

Outside the window, the setting sun was like blood.