Chapter 141: Serving the Nation and the People (Bonus Chapter, Requesting Monthly Tickets and Rewards)

When Fang Hong returned, he met with Xu Jiandong, the former provider of his Support Fund and deputy secretary of the Beijing Film Academy Youth League Committee.

After hearing the matter, he said he could only make contact, but he couldn't actually handle it.

Fundamentally, he wasn't a teacher.

Later, Fang Hong met with Xue Xiaolu, Cao Baoping—the advisor of Jiao Huajing—and Lin Tao, advisor to Liu Yin and professor of the Cinematography Department, who was also a standing director of the Photographer's Association and Yu Xian's teacher.

Afterwards, Fang Hong had Wen Muye invite his own advisor Tian Zhuangzhuang out as well—though Tian Zhuangzhuang was also Fang Hong's advisor, they weren't close.

Han Jianü helped arrange a meeting with Xie Xiaojing, the vice president of Beijing Film Academy, the kind who receives allowances.

She belonged to the same cohort as Lao Mouzi and Chen Daren.

Even Zuoshandiao's daughter had connections.

Nine major figures from the Literature, Cinematography, and Directing departments, plus other experts and professors, gathered at Fengzeyuan's Chinese restaurant in Beijing.

These were all towering figures with students scattered across the land; capital might not impress them.

But they held the authority to interpret films—deciding how a film should be, could be, or shouldn't be.

Fang Hong could get them to show up because most graduates and current students from Beijing Film Academy worked at Yutu.

Yutu was also the top choice for internships and training among Beijing Film Academy students! Nothing else mattered—it was more tolerant, offered more opportunities, faster promotions, and paid salaries according to industry standards, not internship rates.

Yutu had effectively become a gathering hub for the younger generation of Beijing Film Academy talent.

Of course, this was intentional on Fang Hong's part—he didn't want to tie his company to Beijing Film Academy unless absolutely necessary, as that would complicate things.

But he had no choice; if he didn't act this way, others would force him to feel the weight of power.

Those accompanying him were Chen Zhixi, Han Jianü, Jiao Huajing, and Xu Jiandong; others like Liu Yin, Li Anran, and Wen Muye were out filming and couldn't return for now.

Except for Chen Zhixi, everyone here was from Beijing Film Academy! "Teacher, hello!"

At the private room's entrance, Fang Hong gripped Tian Zhuangzhuang's hand and bowed slightly.

Tian Zhuangzhuang said nothing, only patted his shoulder—he still remembered this student who had once declined his suggestion to take the postgraduate entrance exam.

Back then it seemed insignificant; now, the memory stood out clearly.

"Teacher Tian, this way, please."

Chen Zhixi gestured, inviting them into the private room to sit.

Han Jianü led Xie Xiaojing over and introduced her: "This is the chairman of Yutu, Fang Hong."

"I've heard of you—I've heard many call you Principal," said Xie Xiaojing.

The title had spread throughout Beijing Film Academy; it was impossible not to hear it.

"Please don't take it seriously—I'm not worthy of it. It's just classmates joking around." Fang Hong flattered.

"Hahaha, relax. Being called that is a kind of ability—it's nothing." Xie Xiaojing laughed.

"Director, you're too kind. Please, inside." Fang Hong gestured inward.

Xie Xiaojing nodded and walked into the private room; Han Jianü naturally arranged her seat.

After all, they were all familiar—constantly running into each other.

"Teacher Xue, Teacher Cao," Fang Hong called out.

Xue Xiaolu and Cao Baoping arrived together with Jiao Huajing, the three of them side by side.

"Honestly, I'm just here for the meal. Jiao Huajing told me your situation—I can't help much," said Xue Xiaolu.

"I just invited you to dinner to thank you for making such a great film for my company."

Fang Hong was referring to Beijing Meets Seattle.

"Hehe, then I can eat this meal with a clear conscience," Xue Xiaolu smiled, covering her mouth—this man knew how to speak.

He didn't ask for help, only expressed gratitude.

Actually, resolving this matter wasn't hard—just ask a familiar person about the situation and make a simple call, and it would be settled.

Fundamentally, the film had no serious problems; Fang Hong had blown it out of proportion.

In truth, Fang Hong wanted to solve it once and for all, because the constant nagging was annoying.

If it screened for one month, he suffered heavy losses; if it screened for two months, hundreds of millions vanished.

Blocking his money was like killing his parents.

"Hello, Teacher Cao!"

Fang Hong shook hands with Cao Baoping, introduced by Jiao Huajing.

"Young and accomplished," Cao Baoping praised.

Getting so many Beijing Film Academy elders to show up—his influence was truly extraordinary.

Without prior planning, no ordinary person could pull this off.

"Thank you, Teacher Cao, for the compliment. If there's an opportunity, I'd like to collaborate with you." Fang Hong said.

"Sure, if the script is right, I'll take it," Cao Baoping nodded.

"Please, teachers, this way," Fang Hong gestured.

Jiao Huajing led the two teachers inside.

After they entered, Fang Hong approached another person: "Teacher Lin, hello."

Lin Tao was chatting with Xu Jiandong and turned his head: "I know you—you're good friends with Yu Xian. I'm curious, where did you lure him off to?"

There was a hint of jest in his tone.

In the past, when Yu Xian collaborated on short films for assignments, he often co-credited them with Fang Hong, so Lin Tao knew him.

"He went to the United States for further study—he has big ambitions. I told him, no matter where you go, never forget where you came from, and where you must return to."

Fang Hong spoke politely, but he was just making things up.

But Lin Tao found it pleasing: "Your mindset is correct—no matter where you go or what you do, never forget your roots."

"Yes, Teacher, you're right. We younger generations should learn from the older generation's spirit of serving the nation and the people." Fang Hong said.

Xu Jiandong listened beside him and smiled; he had always known Fang Hong was capable.

The words sounded harmless, offered no direct flattery to Lin Tao, yet somehow included him in the praise—praising a whole group at once.

The older generation—they were all of the older generation.

"Let's go in."

Xu Jiandong gestured, then smiled at Fang Hong: "You don't need to worry about me—I'm just here to eat."

"Then please, Secretary Xu, enjoy your meal."

"."

Fang Hong had seen everyone settled, then entered the private room, where Beijing Film Academy experts and professors were chatting among themselves.

They were all acquaintances; Chen Zhixi had nothing to add.

But she didn't need to add anything—she was there to pour tea and serve water.

Others naturally livened the atmosphere.

The private room's decor was ancient and elegant; the table held various delicacies.

Xie Xiaojing wiped her mouth with a napkin and smiled at those present: "Today Xiao Fang has treated us—so we can't just eat and drink for free. Xiao Fang, tell us what trouble you've run into."

He turned to Fang Hong and added: "Let's be clear—if it's something against principles or regulations, we can't help."

That is, refuse to help if he'd made a mistake—blocking Fang Hong in advance! "I don't know if this counts as breaking regulations—please, dear teachers, help me judge." Fang Hong looked at Jiao Huajing.

"It's like this, dear teachers—we made a film, this film—"

Jiao Huajing explained the plot of *Genius Hacker*; she had co-written the script and seen the original film, so she knew it well.

Her tone was clear and logical; in a few sentences, she laid out the film's content and its core issue precisely.

"Your film doesn't seem problematic—the setting is Hong Kong, the cheating is in the U. S. college entrance exam; fundamentally, it has little to do with us." Xie Xiaojin considered.

"Right, I read the script too—I just don't know if it was about Chinese students, but I don't think the authorities are that thin-skinned." Xue Xiaolu offered her view.

Others listening also felt this shouldn't be an issue; currently, filmmakers were encouraged to think broadly and create more diverse, high-quality films.

Ideally, they should challenge Hollywood, defending their own cultural territory and market.

Censorship in this era was still quite lenient.

And *Genius Hacker* didn't involve ideology or expose any of our country's shortcomings.

The story is set in Hong Kong; the cheating is in the U. S. college entrance exam.

If you say Chinese students aren't suitable, then our own college entrance exam has countless loopholes—isn't that a bigger problem? Fundamentally, it doesn't smear the nation.

Moreover, the film doesn't single out Chinese students—it includes all of Asia.

So fundamentally, it has little to do with us.

In my past life, when this came out, we even imported it.

"Old Lin, ask them—if there really is an issue, tell us exactly where, so Xiao Fang has some clarity." Xie Xiaojin looked at Lin Tao.

"Alright!"

Lin Tao pulled out his phone and dialed.

Everyone fell silent, eyes fixed on Lin Tao as he took the call.

After a while, Lin Tao put down his phone: "Xiao Fang, did you offend someone?"

"No!" Fang Hong looked puzzled.

He had offended someone, of course—but he couldn't admit it; he had to maintain a pure, innocent look.

He knew clearly who to be good with and who to be bad with.

"Let me put it this way—I just asked, and they re-reviewed your film's approval feedback. There's nothing wrong with it."

"Then why do they want me to revise it?" Fang Hong blurted.

"Don't rush—let me finish."

Lin Tao understood him; making a film wasn't easy—so much money, so much effort, all the time and energy poured in.

He continued: "They're asking you to revise it because someone intervened—using 'uncertainty' as an excuse, they sent it back."

This was easy to understand: it meant "baseless accusation"—the film might have problems, which made it hard to defend.

But if you say there's no problem, you can also say there's no problem.

In short, it's better to kill the wrong than to let the guilty go—but usually, they wouldn't be this harsh; films always have a bit of edge.

*Let the Bullets Fly* was even more allegorical, yet it still screened, still played—the standards were very lenient.

*Genius Hacker*, though not particularly uplifting, is far less extreme than *Let the Bullets Fly*.

Fundamentally, it's just a commercial crowd-pleaser—it has nothing to do with art films, lacks depth or allegory.

That's why Lin Tao asked if Fang Hong had offended someone.

"So about this—"

Fang Hong didn't finish; the meaning was clear—he wanted help, and he was deeply frustrated.

Too kind, still! (End of chapter)