Chapter 412: Niu Bi Ge La Si

The banquet hall was bustling with people, various celebrities and luminaries moving about.

There were no rules here; people wandered freely, and originally not many had come, the space being limited.

The award ceremony had none of that fluff—once everyone arrived, it began; the host said a few opening remarks, then started handing out awards.

This award ceremony didn't have many awards—just over a dozen, very few, not even Best Editing or Best Special Effects, and if they sped up, it would be over in a flash.

The smaller awards came first: Best Newcomer Award, Best Cinematography, Best Screenplay, and so on.

Who gave the award to whom? No fluff—last year's Best Film went to *Magic, Douban Score 3.0*, just like that, abstract.

This was also why no one took the Macau Film Festival seriously—it had zero professionalism, even more amateurish than the Golden Rooster Awards.

Fang Hong saw Liu Tianxian's expression soften slightly and said, "You're so cold and distant, it's making me feel uneasy."

Liu Tianxian waved her hand, signaling him to come over.

"Then how do you want me to be warm?" Liu Tianxian placed her hand on his thigh, rubbing gently through his clothes, a faint warmth seeping through.

"Attitude." Fang Hong gripped her hand.

Liu Tianxian leaned close, brushing her lips against his earlobe and whispering sweetly, "Baby, is it warm enough?"

Their posture looked like they were sharing a secret; no one suspected anything, and the venue wasn't that quiet anyway.

Fang Hong nodded quickly, "Mm, mm," the breath tickling his ear, warm and tingling, sending a pleasant shiver through his body.

Liu Tianxian smiled and let go of him. "Better?"

"As long as you're not mad." Fang Hong said.

"It's all in the past, doesn't matter anymore." Liu Tianxian didn't care.

Zeng had already become a thing of the past in her life, insignificant—what she cared about now was only Fang Hong and those around her.

As the two whispered quietly below the stage, the presenter announced: "The winner of the Fifth Golden Lotus Award for Best Actress is Liu Tianxian."

Applause rose from the audience; Liu Tianxian stood without surprise—she'd already known the answer.

"This is Liu Tianxian's second Golden Lotus win—last year it was her, and this year again her. I still remember when I presided over her 18th birthday ceremony, she was just a child," the host said, sounding genuinely moved.

Liu Tianxian walked onto the stage, her figure light and graceful, exuding a gentle, ethereal beauty.

Mostly because the dress she wore today was beautiful and soft.

"Liu Tianxian, please stay a moment."

The host stopped her as she was about to leave with the trophy, then held his microphone to her lips: "Tell us how you feel about winning?"

This damn stage didn't even have a standing microphone.

"Winning this award means a lot to me. I was fifteen when I shot my first TV drama, and now I've been in the industry for over a decade—film has become the most important part of my life," Liu Tianxian said.

"You're quite a seasoned actress," the host said.

"No, no, no, don't say that. Film has given me so much joy—it helped me grow up faster than I should have."

Liu Tianxian added again: "Here, I want to thank Fang Hong—he's given me so much encouragement, supported me all along the way, and stayed by my side. Thank you!"

She thanked only this one person—no one else.

The audience clapped, "Clap, clap, clap," but the applause was sparse and lackluster.

Fang Hong watched Liu Tianxian return to her seat.

"Why are you staring at me?" Liu Tianxian sat down, still cradling the Trophy.

"Watching you win—I'm happy for you," Fang Hong said.

"Too bad it's just a small award," Liu Tianxian leaned close, whispering, afraid the Macau officials might hear.

Her tone dripped with disdain!

But what could she do? This was the only award she could win—others were too hard to get; at least this was something, better than nothing.

Hearing her disdain, Fang Hong smiled.

"Liu Tianxian winning here in our place—surely you're happy inside?" Tan Sijiang looked at the two.

"Very happy, deeply grateful for the committee's recognition," Liu Tianxian lied.

Seeing Fang Hong still smiling beside her, she kicked him under the table, signaling him to stop—he was making her feel guilty, after she'd just insulted them.

"Good. Even though ours is a small award, if we keep going, we'll make it better and bigger," Tan Sijiang said.

Those seated nodded in agreement—everything you say is right!

"Mm, I believe so," Liu Tianxian didn't know what else to say, and couldn't rely on him.

As they chatted, Best Director went to Fang Long, then quickly came Best Film—the award went to *Now You See Me*, filmed right here.

Fang Hong went up to collect the award, no surprise—he'd already been told by Li Bailian.

He stepped on stage and took the Trophy from the presenter.

"Thank you, thank you to all the creators who worked on this film with me, and thank you, Liu Tianxian, for your constant support, encouragement, and companionship," Fang Hong said briefly.

Nothing much to say—his first major award was here in Macau? Well, he came, so they had to give him something, otherwise what was the point?

If he hadn't come, they definitely wouldn't have given it to him.

The audience burst into enthusiastic applause; Liu Tianxian clapped, her expression tender.

Watching him return to his seat, Liu Tianxian whispered: "How does it feel to win this award?"

"No feeling, just like you," Fang Hong said. "Hehehe," Liu Tianxian covered her mouth and laughed.

The award ceremony ended quickly—no cultural performances at all! They could've at least had a few girls dance on stage!

After the awards, they ate—dishes and chopsticks were already laid out; they just started eating, cameras turned off, free to relax.

Liu Tianxian ladled a bowl of crab porridge for Fang Hong: "It's a local specialty—try it."

Fang Hong scooped up a spoonful and tasted it: "Not bad."

"Your relationship is so sweet—have you thought about getting married?" Tan Sijiang asked.

"It's already underway," Liu Tianxian said.

His words made those present pause, straining to listen—if the two got married, Liu Tianxian's status would no longer be negligible.

Whoever upset her was truly upsetting the Principal.

"Oh, that's pretty fast," said Tan Sijiang, who had only learned of them last year.

"It's not fast—we've been together for over four years," Liu Tianxian replied without concealment, appearing perfectly calm.

Those seated here weren't gossips, and even if they were, it didn't matter—everyone outside would find out eventually; could they truly hide their relationship for a lifetime?

"If you say so, then yes, four years is indeed a long time. To have no major conflicts all these years proves you both know how to accommodate each other."

Tan Sijiang spoke with the tone of someone who'd been there before: "On the day of your wedding, invite me—I'll definitely come."

"Of course," Liu Tianxian nodded.

"Don't forget us," Fang Long gestured to those seated.

"If we ever set a date, I'll notify you," Liu Tianxian thought this man was being too much; bringing this up wasn't appropriate. She glanced at Fang Hong, silently urging him to change the subject.

If they truly married, they wouldn't invite everyone.

Fang Hong understood her glance: "Tan Sijiang, I think your award ceremony's too amateurish. You should model your rules after the Golden Horse and Golden Rooster Awards—split the categories finer."

"We've thought about it, but it's the same problem—we can't attract enough film industry people. When they hear about our award, they don't want to come," Tan Sijiang sighed; the issue was simply insufficient influence.

"What if we co-host one edition? Put my company's name as host," Fang Hong said.

This surprised everyone present—the Principal was planning to launch an award ceremony? Stars would surely flood in; the entertainment circle would all give the Principal some face.

Besides, their company already had plenty of artists, directors, and behind-the-scenes staff.

Liu Tianxian said nothing, quietly listening beside him.

"That wouldn't be right—putting the Jade Rabbit's name on it would make it the Jade Rabbit Award," Tan Sijiang didn't say outright: if you did this, wouldn't you just be entertaining yourselves?

Still no influence—who would come if you just entertained yourselves? Like the Hong Kong Film Awards—no fairness at all.

"Don't put Jade Rabbit's name. Put Chang'e Technology's name. Chang'e Technology is a tech company, not closely tied to the film industry," Fang Hong said.

If you put a film company's name on it, people will always accuse you of favoring your own artists.

To give the impression of relative fairness, only Chang'e Technology can do it. Even then, people will question it—but you can gradually build credibility.

This made Tan Sijiang pause and think. Actually, it wasn't impossible—their goal in running this award was simply to boost Macau's Ministry of Culture and Tourism, to draw people here for tourism and spending.

As for who hosted the award didn't matter—the Principal had status and strength.

"I need to make a statement—I can't give you an answer right now," Tan Sijiang found it feasible.

But this award isn't hosted by us alone—it's also co-hosted by the International Cultural Communication Center, the official external liaison unit.

We need to communicate and see if private enterprises are allowed to participate.

Let's try one edition first. If we can make it work, this place has its uniqueness—some preferential treatment. Of course, Fang Hong couldn't even dream of the Golden Rooster and Hundred Flowers Awards or the Huabiao Awards Awards.

Even if those awards were run terribly, they'd never let him participate—they hold the power.

Whether to give you an award, whether to grant you honor—it's entirely up to them. If they give it, you're grateful. If they don't, you're still grateful. The thunder and rain are both the Emperor's grace.

The dinner ended quickly, the award ceremony dispersed soon after—but some were already thinking: The Principal wants to run an award ceremony?

This was a shock to them. If it succeeded, the Principal's influence in the film industry would be amplified infinitely—he'd be the man who controlled "honor."

But this was just a spark—whether it would ignite was uncertain. Guangxian was also running award ceremonies: the TV Drama Wind and Cloud Ceremony, the Music Wind and Cloud Ceremony, and others.

They were garbage—this wouldn't be easy!

Macau's night scenery glittered. Liu Tianxian asked, puzzled: "Why do you want to run an award ceremony?"

"You complained this award had no weight, right? Then I'll make it weighty. In the future, when people mention you, they'll say: 'Wow! Liu Tianxian is a two-time Macau International Film Festival Best Actress—insanely impressive.'"

"Gigglegigglegiggle!"

Fang Hong's final line was exaggerated and hilarious—he finished and ran off.

Liu Tianxian laughed, chasing after him.

They playfully wrestled; Liu Tianxian quickly caught up, placing her hand on his shoulder and asking: "Are you doing this film festival for me?"

"A bit. Actually, I've had this idea for a long time—we needed a truly authoritative film festival, and we didn't have one," Fang Hong said.

"Isn't the Golden Horse Award authoritative enough?" Liu Tianxian wrapped her arm around his shoulder, leaning her weight against him.

"Too ideological. It'll decline eventually. Macau has no ideological issues, its location is unique, it's easy to talk to, and its status is high—perfectly suited."

"."

As they walked and talked, their shadows stretched longer and longer under the neon lights, growing farther and farther away.

(End of Chapter)