Chapter 735: From Desolation to Prosperity

This year's Macau Film Festival is being held at the Sands City Hotel, one of the largest hotels in the world; viewed from afar at high altitude, the entire hotel's glass façade glows gold like brilliant gilded metal, exuding grandeur and majesty.

Just across from the hotel plaza, not far away, stands a tower—a 1:2 scale replica of the Bali Tieta, 162 meters tall, and artistic in design.

This place is not open to the public; no tickets are sold—it exists solely for this Macau Film Festival.

The Macau authorities have spared no expense: this hotel has over four thousand guest rooms and eleven banquet halls, each the size of a basketball court, most of which remain empty.

But it's all worth it: countless fans from across the country, Hong Kong, Macau, Taiwan, and Southeast Asia have come here.

The surrounding commerce has boomed; consumers flood the area—those who travel this far to chase stars all have financial means and spending power.

At this moment, the plaza in front of the hotel is filled with movie light boxes: "Operation Mekong," "The Mermaid," "Mr. Six," and "The Great Wall"—all this year's hugely popular and compelling films.

Crowds move through the plaza, and volunteers holding national and regional flags shuttle everywhere.

On the building above the plaza, a massive LED screen is playing "Operation Mekong," the main-theme film serving as the opening feature.

In the center of the plaza lies a long red carpet, stretching all the way up the stairs to the hotel's interior.

On both sides of the red carpet sit mainland, Hong Kong, Macau, and Taiwan entertainment reporters—so many they form three layers around the path, all wielding long and short lenses, photographing every star who passes and pauses.

They are dazzling, they bare their chests and skin, they are confident and poised.

At the top of the stairs, Fang Hong and Liu Tianxian are being interviewed by mainstream reporters.

"I am deeply disappointed. Fang Long, as a global public figure, every action he takes represents the dignity of this nation, yet he completely ignores public sentiment, scheming to use his influence to get discredited artists on screen—I personally find this outrageous."

"Of course, as a father he is right, but as an anti-drug ambassador and a renowned actor, he is utterly unfit and driven by selfish motives."

Fang Hong's words are an extremely harsh criticism—and he names names directly.

He even exposes the unwritten rule: using his influence to pave the way for his son, no matter how badly the son has erred.

Even Liu Tianxian couldn't help glancing at him—this would strip away part of Fang Long's "divinity."

To deify a person too completely is never a good thing.

"Will you collaborate with him?" asked a reporter.

"Of course not. The Moon Rabbit will never associate with discredited artists—or their enablers," Fang Hong said bluntly.

Fang Long has gone to great lengths for his son, even incurred debts of favor.

That debt was repaid with two garbage films: "Machine Blood" and "Detective Pu Songling."

The director of "Machine Blood" was the one who advised Fang Long on how to evade censorship and how to rename and hide Xiao Fangzi behind the scenes, even directing the film for him.

One film, "Beijing Morning to Night," was directed by him, with Xiao Fangzi credited as director—similar to how Fang Hong originally had Wang Laoer direct for him.

The film also featured cameos by Hong Kong entertainment figures like Fang Long, Xie Biwang, and Ceng Aizi, pulling out all the stops for prestige.

But when Xiao Fangzi ran into trouble, the film was naturally banned from release by higher authorities.

Yet after Xiao Fangzi was released, the director unhesitatingly handed over the director's chair he had held for three years back to Xiao Fangzi and renamed the film "Beijing Love Atlas," hoping to bypass censorship.

Fang Long also lobbied everywhere; Hong Kong's big shots naturally showed up to support it—but the authorities aren't fools; they clearly saw the connection to Xiao Fangzi and outright banned it.

There was no choice but to rename it again: "We Once Loved Each Other," completely severing ties with the previous titles, and erasing all cameos by Fang Long, Ceng Aizi, and Xie Biwang.

Then they promoted a deputy director named Zhang Xiaolei to director; only after this entire series of maneuvers did the film evade censorship.

How could Fang Long not repay such a favor?

This man, simply because his father is Fang Long, has had countless people scheming to help him outwit the authorities and whitewash his record.

Shouldn't this circle be regulated? Everyone has selfish motives—even the most noble among them are deeply self-interested.

Even some Wangyi say: "Everyone makes mistakes; we should give him a chance."

Damn it! Who gives the border drug enforcement officers a chance? Once this crack opens, will others who've erred also be let off the hook?

He knew it was wrong, yet he did it anyway despite repeated warnings—only he himself is to blame for lacking self-control.

Having connections or a powerful father doesn't make you right.

These words excited the reporters; clearly, the Principal dares to speak boldly—it's big news. Reporters jostled forward with microphones: "What's your take on the recent 'I Like' incident?"

"It's an insult to the audience's aesthetic—an extreme insult," Fang Hong said.

"So you don't like this movie either, Principal?" asked the reporter.

"I don't like it. If it's badly made, it's badly made—don't hide behind 'artistic exploration.' If we follow their logic, everyone who makes a terrible film can just claim it's art."

"I still consider myself a normal person with normal aesthetic standards." Fang Hong's words imply that the seventy-odd stars in the film industry are all insane, mentally deranged.

Especially Mojing Wang—his bad films are always called "art," and any trash can be labeled as art.

The Principal really dares to say it—he doesn't care about those people at all. The reporter turned to Liu Tianxian: "What do you think, Tianxian?"

"I believe every director has their own artistic expression; whether you accept it depends on the individual," Liu Tianxian replied more diplomatically.

"So you like Mojing Wang's film?" the reporter pressed, refusing to let her evade the question.

"I watch every one of his films," Liu Tianxian answered ambiguously again.

"Are you trying to say you like 'The Ferryman'?" the reporter still wouldn't let go.

Her answer wasn't as direct as the Principal's.

"Oh, don't be so aggressive—I merely appreciate it. Appreciation isn't the same as liking. After all, Mojing Wang once made many good works," Liu Tianxian said helplessly.

Really—they insist on forcing people to say it outright.

"Then—"

"Ask something else. Drop this topic," Fang Hong cut in, refusing to dwell on it.

"We recently read a report in the United Daily News claiming the Macau Film Festival is extremely unprofessional. What's your view?" asked the reporter.

"The Macau Film Festival doesn't need anyone's approval or judgment. I can say this: apart from the audience, no one has the right to judge—including me," Fang Hong said arrogantly.

The United Daily News is a newspaper from Wa Dao.

While they were being interviewed, Hong Kong's Huayi Big Wang, Yu Pangzi, and other film industry heavyweights also gave separate interviews.

Yu Pangzi was asked about his thoughts on "Operation Mekong" as the opening film.

"I am honored that 'Operation Mekong' can be presented as the opening film at such a grand cinematic event," Yu Pangzi said.

"What do you have to say about BoNa's IPO being rejected?" the reporter pressed.

"Focus on making solid films—making good films comes first, just as the Principal said: this is an era where content reigns supreme, and capital can only play a supporting role." Yu Pangzi still felt deeply disappointed.

But he could only say this—what else could he complain about?

The Macau Film Festival venue was bursting with energy, dazzling with stars; major actors, directors, and film industry giants all appeared.

Douyin was streaming the event exclusively live, with a peak concurrent viewership of five million and total views exceeding one billion; comments flooded the screen densely.

Fans flooded the comments with their idols' names, such as Liu Tianwang and Zhao Xiaodao, whose names appeared nonstop.

Some of Fang Hong's remarks also trended, especially those few lines.

#DeeplyDisappointedInFangLong#

#StronglySupportTheFerrymanStarsAreAllInsane#

These two trending topics resonated deeply with netizens, who felt immensely satisfied and enthusiastically liked the Principal.

"One sentence from the Principal is worth a billion; two sentences are worth two billion!"

"Clearly, the entire entertainment circle has only the Principal as a sane person—everyone else is crazy. The Ferryman is being hyped as a masterpiece."

"Exactly—the Principal is right. Fang Long is extremely self-serving. He always talks about how patriotic he is, yet when his own son breaks the rules, he still breaks them."

"The Principal has the most upright values!"

"I used to think the Principal wasn't good enough for Tianxian—now I think Tianxian isn't good enough for the Principal."

"That's going too far—the Principal can't take this much praise!"

"Everyone sees I'm ugly—doesn't that make me artistic? Hahaha!"

Online discourse was deafening; netizens discussed enthusiastically, even joking that their own ugliness was art.

But the actors and directors who were criticized remained silent, refusing to comment.

Even though many of them were attending the Macau Film Festival, they could only endure it, daring not to show the slightest displeasure.

When Wang Chuanjun spoke out, they could use their influence to blacklist him—this past two years, he really had no roles or resources left.

But when the Principal called them garbage, they could only endure it—even if they couldn't, they had to.

In the Macau Film Festival banquet hall, the ceiling resembled a starry sky; below, rows of tiered seats were filled with heads—countless film industry figures were already seated.

Some whispered to each other; others stared straight ahead. Fang Hong and Liu Tianxian sat in the front row, alongside Cui Official, Tan Sijiang, He Deputy, and other celebrities.

Also present were Macau's four major families: He Family, Ma Family, Liang Family, and Cui Family.

All were public figures easily recognizable from media reports.

After a graceful musical performance, Sa Beinan stepped onto the stage in a sharp suit, holding a microphone with his signature smile.

"Hello everyone, I'm host Sa Beinan. I still remember the previous two editions were hosted by Teacher Cui Yongyuan and Teacher Ni Ping—finally, it's my turn!" Sa Beinan spoke with humor.

The audience couldn't help but laugh.

"Honestly, I'm confused. The last two hosts were so excellent, and now it's my turn—I'm under pressure. I asked the organizing committee: why did you invite me? I don't have their sharp wit or their eloquence."

"The production team said they needed a host with presence."

At this, Sa Beinan couldn't help but chuckle.

He was like this—he lacked Cui Yongyuan's composure. Cui could joke and tease without laughing; Sa never did.

Laughter erupted in the audience, louder than before.

"This presence must match the festival's spirit—and the festival's most important spirit is wildness. But I'm a CCTV host—I can't very well go wild on stage."

"But they said, you're surnamed Sa. That connection struck me as odd—I've lived this long and only now realized my surname is so unrestrained."

"Er... when I arrived, there was no cue card, no script, no schedule—you could do whatever you wanted. I said I couldn't be a host; as a host, I need at least a rough outline, to know what I'm supposed to say—but they said—"

At this, Sa Beinan clenched his lips, suddenly turning serious: "This stage was handed over from the start to all filmmakers. So my job is simply to begin by introducing, in the most solemn manner, all our most prestigious guests."

At this, the audience burst into thunderous applause.

"Next, let's invite the Principal to speak—let him say a few words," Sa Beinan invited.

At these words, every eye in the hall turned toward the figure rising in front.

"When the Principal stands up, every filmmaker in the hall gives him a respectful gaze—is it because he's handsome?" Sa Beinan joked.

This both acknowledged Fang Hong's immense influence in the industry and complimented his appearance.

Laughter and applause filled the hall; Liu Tianxian clapped with a smile from below.

"They're just being polite—anyone who steps onto this stage gets the same gaze. It's not just me. For example, I've been staring at you, Xiao Sa, for a long time," Fang Hong said, taking the mic.

Xiao Sa smiled, waiting for the Principal to finish.

"No matter how good-looking someone is, it's still just appearance. To judge a person, focus on inner beauty—like my inner beauty. Pay more attention to that," Fang Hong added.

"I know—the Principal is face-blind. He can't see anyone's appearance, only their inner beauty," Sa Beinan teased.

This referred to when someone once asked Fang Hong if Liu Tianxian was beautiful—he said he didn't know; he was face-blind.

"Right—before I became face-blind, you were still a pretty boy!" Fang Hong sighed.

"Hahaha!" Applause erupted; the atmosphere grew lively.

Sa Beinan threw his head back laughing—it was a jab at his age.

The Principal's eloquence was still formidable; of course, Sa Beinan wasn't bad either—they could match each other well.

Live viewers watched with delight.

Then Sa Beinan stepped down, leaving the stage to the Principal for his speech.

"Respected leaders, fellow film industry colleagues, esteemed filmmakers—thank you for attending this Macau Film Festival awards ceremony.

Along this journey, this is already the eighth edition of the festival. We've grown from nothing to prosperity, having walked through eight years.

Along the way, we faced obstacles, doubts, and misunderstanding—but we pushed through together. These eight years have witnessed the flourishing of the film market.

From single films earning hundreds of millions to billions, even tens of billions."

(End of Chapter)