Chapter 737

The two watched the stage, where the award ceremony had already begun, starting with the Best New Performer Award.

The award was presented by Da Baobei and Chen Xiao, who chatted awkwardly on stage for a moment before announcing the winner as Bai Yu.

That film is The Bonded Love, which was released last year but missed last year's awards and qualified for this year's evaluation.

The Yutu Film avoidance policy has now been relaxed; they've avoided it for years, but constant avoidance isn't practical—things should be as they are.

As Bai Yu stepped onto the stage, an uplifting melody began to play.

Bai Yu is only 26, still very young; on stage, he held the Golden Lotus Awards Award, his face glowing with joy.

"Thank you to the judges for this award, to everyone at The Bonded Love, to the director, and especially to Liu Tianxian and the Principal—your help made this award possible…"

Blushing, he spoke a long string of thanks on stage, then bowed deeply to the live audience.

He then exited from the side door, where reporters were waiting—every winner must undergo an interview.

This is exposure, this is information—it at least lets the outside world know you've won, a form of status elevation.

The same applies to behind-the-scenes awards; it gives you an edge in job applications—this is the meaning of awards.

Status rises, social standing rises, industry position rises—it's a comprehensive elevation, though it depends on whether the award has sufficient influence; a water award is still a water award.

The Macau Film Festival is building its influence.

The Best New Actor award stands alone, regardless of gender, and the next award is Best Animated Film.

This award went to Big Fish & Begonia, produced by Guangxian Film, with two directors: Liang Xuan and Zhang Chun.

Animation films face less competition; if it has a story and good visuals, that's enough—Yutu Film did not enter any animation films this year.

These two on stage are graduates of Tsinghua University's Academy of Fine Arts and don't fit well with the film industry, yet gaining recognition still made them deeply moved.

"This is our first time creating an animated film—we never imagined animation is such an imaginative medium, turning the impossible into the possible. Thank you to the committee for your recognition, and to everyone who helped us complete this film."

Next, the Best Documentary award went to The Gate of Life, documenting the obstetrics and gynecology department of Zhongnan Hospital in Jiangcheng.

It truthfully records the struggles, choices, and human warmth and coldness of multiple mothers and their families facing life-and-death crises.

It reveals social contradictions and complex human nature, such as poverty and son preference.

The following awards were all behind-the-scenes: Best Editing, Best Sound Effects, Best Visual Effects, Best Cinematography, Best Music, and more.

Best Screenplay went to Dog and the Thirteen, written by Jiao Huajing.

She looked the same—long, jet-black hair, round face, like a girl next door; she was never old to begin with.

The film was completed in 2013, but for years it couldn't pass censorship—it only received national release approval this year.

"I'm so happy to win this award—I don't even know what to say…" Jiao Huajing bit her lip, looking slightly shy.

The audience erupted into thunderous applause.

"Grateful—I've been a screenwriter at Yutu Film for six or seven years. Grateful for this big family that let me easily realize my value. Grateful to Yutu, and to my wonderful boss, the Principal." Jiao Huajing raised the Trophy.

Below the stage, Liu Tianxian smiled and clapped—she was genuinely pleased to see her friend win.

After all, nearly all the films she acted in had been scripted by this person; they weren't just collaborators but close friends.

Each award brought roaring applause, uplifting music, dazzling lights, and the announcer's voice—all atmosphere, fully charged.

Online, information and video clips would appear, stating who won what award.

Live-stream viewers would also join in, asking: "What award is this?" "What's it for?" and so on.

Many netizens didn't know the behind-the-scenes awards, and didn't even recognize the people behind them.

But they recognized the presenters—presenters were mostly famous stars and behind-the-scenes directors serving as award presenters.

Seeing a familiar star, they'd frantically flood the chat with that star's name.

During every award break, Sa Beinan would occasionally step on stage to tease the star or actor, livening up the atmosphere.

"Alright, next let's present the Best Actress award. Please welcome the presenter: Liu Tianxian, who has won the Macau Film Queen title twice in a row—and is the only person ever to hold this dual honor."

As Sa Beinan spoke, Liu Tianxian appeared wearing a nude strapless floor-length gown, studded with glittering diamonds that sparkled intermittently.

She looked incredibly elegant and sophisticated, utterly unrecognizable as a mother.

Her hairstyle remained the same: a slicked-back bun—she had a particular fondness for this look.

As soon as she appeared, the live stream went wild—"Liu Tianxian" scrolled across the screen at breakneck speed, completely flooding the chat.

Not just the live stream—the entire internet was flooded, and she even topped trending searches.

#LiuTianxianStraplessGownLookEffortlesslyBeautiful#

This trending hashtag hung on Baidu and Weibo's trending lists, and even had a place on Douyin's trending topics.

Netizens cried out: "How is this a 30-year-old? She's clearly a fairy incarnate!"

Even self-media articles were already written, titled: "True Beauty Needs No Effort—Relaxation and Confidence Are the Ultimate Fashion Codes."

The accompanying images were these very photos of Liu Tianxian.

It made the actual Best Actress nominee seem dull by comparison—but Liu Tianxian had the right to overshadow her; never mind her box office success.

Just by winning the Macau Film Queen title twice consecutively—even if those two awards were watered down—her status had been endlessly elevated as the Macau Film Festival's influence grew.

When people spoke of her, besides "Jinque Film Queen" and "Temple of Heaven Best Actress," they always added "two-time consecutive Macau Dual Film Queen."

"Unconsciously, Liu Tianxian has won so many awards—I didn't even know!" said one blogger.

On the softly lit stage, Liu Tianxian held a card, standing before a stand-up microphone, one hand on her hip, facing the crowd of stars and celebrities—calm, graceful, and warm.

"I'm delighted to be recognized by the committee as a presenter for this important Best Actress award. Honestly, I'm quite emotional."

Liu Tianxian paused, patted her chest, took a breath, and continued: "This is my first time presenting an award—especially such an important one—but I still prefer receiving awards!"

"Receiving awards is better—you can thank everyone you want, you can give your acceptance speech. I won't get that chance this time."

She sighed playfully, as if genuinely disappointed.

The audience erupted in applause and laughter.

"Now let's look at the big screen to see who the nominees for Best Actress are," Liu Tianxian said, then turned and looked up at the large screen behind her.

The screen displayed footage: first, a clip from I Am Not Pan Golden Lotus Awards, starring Fan Xiaopang.

Fan Xiaopang saw his name among the nominees and tried hard to keep his face calm, though he was still nervous inside.

Awards? Everyone wants to win them.

Liu Tianxian won two Best Actress awards at this film festival before, raising her recognition—she certainly wants it too.

The second clip was from Monster Hunt, starring Bai Baihe; she slightly smiled, her expression full of anticipation, though she was just as tense inside.

The third clip was from Mr. Six, starring Xu Qing; her face was expressionless, as if utterly unruffled.

The fourth was filler: Mojin: The Lost Legend, starring Shu Qi; she showed no reaction at all.

Every time a film title and a Best Actress nominee appeared on the big screen, the audience burst into loud applause, and some couldn't help glancing at the nominees.

Of these four films, two were from Huayi—Huayi was still impressive, their films' quality was on point.

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After the big screen finished playing, Liu Tianxian faced the audience again, lowered her head, opened the envelope, and upon seeing the name inside, immediately showed a look of surprise.

"Wow! She's an outstanding actress, and one who deserves everyone's respect."

Liu Tianxian said this, then raised the card and raised an eyebrow: "Who is the winner?"

Her tone had been energetic before, but the words "who is it?" came out softer, with a touch of playfulness.

The audience burst into "Hahaha!" laughter, thinking she was about to announce the winner, only to realize she was just teasing.

It was kind of fun, though—no one expected Liu Tianxian to be so lighthearted.

Live stream viewers flooded the chat with "Tianxian is so cute!" and also kept typing "Fan Xiaopang," hoping he would win.

While others and the live stream audience were relaxed, the four nominees grew even more tense because of Liu Tianxian's antics; Fan Xiaopang adjusted his posture to ease his nerves.

Bai Baihe's palms were sweaty; only Xu Qing remained calm, while Shu Qi seemed to know she wouldn't win and appeared indifferent.

"The winner of the Best Actress award at the 8th Macau Film Festival is—Xu Qing! Teacher Xu!" Liu Tianxian no longer teased, announcing loudly.

The audience erupted in thunderous applause and uplifting music.

A spotlight swept over the heads of the audience and landed on Xu Qing's seat; she still looked quite plump.

She smiled, shook hands with the cast of Mr. Six to express gratitude, then walked toward the stage.

Upon hearing it wasn't her, Fan Xiaopang, Bai Baihe, and Shu Qi all showed varying degrees of disappointment—disappointment at not winning.

Many of Fan Xiaopang's fans online expressed dissatisfaction: "Why not Fan Xiaopang?"

"Where did Fan Xiaopang fall short? He acted brilliantly."

"This award ceremony is garbage—I'm never watching again."

But no one answered them; Xu Qing's performance wasn't bad at all—she truly deserved it, and rational viewers could see that.

To fans, their idol was a god, and they believed their idol was awesome—no need to care.

Award ceremonies are like this: no matter who wins, there's always controversy.

On stage, Liu Tianxian gracefully shook hands with Xu Qing, then handed her the Golden Lotus Trophy, gestured for her to speak, and stepped down.

"Thank you to the judges for recognizing me, and to the team of Mr. Six for their painstaking efforts—this film went through so much; it was originally slated for the New Year Slot last year, but ended up delayed for over half a year, pushed to this summer."

"Your persistence made this film possible. This award isn't mine alone—it belongs to you too. Thank you, Director Guan Hu!"

Xu Qing spoke with ease; below, Guan Hu bowed with clasped hands in thanks, his bald head gleaming brightly.

Someone unconsciously glanced at Principal; everyone knew this film had been blocked from release before because Principal had interfered.

But that was history now—there was no point revisiting it, no power left to pursue it.

Fang Hong appeared calm; he couldn't possibly do anything to Xu Qing over this—whatever was said, he didn't care.

"Thank you. I'm honored to receive this award," Xu Qing raised the Trophy.

After she stepped down, Sa Beinan took the stage: "Next is the heavyweight Best Actor award—let's welcome last year's Best Actor winner, Deng Chao."

Deng Chao stepped on stage in a sharp suit; he was humorous: "I, like Tianxian, love winning awards—but unfortunately, professional awards should go to more professional people."

He was joking about his own lack of professionalism, flattering the person about to win.

The four nominees for Best Actor were: Feng Kuzi for Mr. Six, Fan Wei for A Question of Faith, Liang Jiahui for Cold War 2, and Shaofeng for Wolf Totem.

The last one was obviously filler.

The other three were seasoned veterans and remained calm.

"The winner of Best Actor is Fan Wei—for A Question of Faith!" Deng Chao announced.

Amid applause, Fan Wei walked toward the stage; though elderly, he moved briskly. After receiving the Trophy, he flashed his signature smile.

After he finished his acceptance speech, came the final major award: Best Film.

The nominees were: I Am Not Madame Bovary, August, Monster Hunt, and Goodbye Mr. Loser.

The last one was filler—there's always one filler, to balance things out, to include a popular, high-response film to highlight the real winner.

It makes people think: that brilliant actor didn't win, but this actor did—so that brilliant actor must not have acted as well, prompting them to go watch.

The same goes for films: throw in a filler, and since this one had such high box office but you haven't seen the winner, you'll feel compelled to watch it—it feels prestigious.

That's how it works—so the winner of Best Film this year is: "August!"

It's a niche art film, with no stunning visuals, telling the story of an individual caught in the tide of the 1980s–90s, seen through a child's eyes!

Its emotions are delicate, its historical portrayal precise, and its expression restrained, gently looking back at lost time.

It's an excellent film, directed by a young filmmaker—the screenwriter is the same person: Zhang Dalei!

He expressed his joy at winning with great excitement.

After he finished his speech, Macau's Director Cui took the stage to speak: "Thank you all for coming to Macau. Our region remains steadfast in building a fusion of East and West, turning Macau into an entertainment capital."

Director Cui spoke passionately, outlining goals and envisioning the future on stage.

Thus, the Macau Film Festival, lasting two or three hours, officially ended—though online discussions continued unabated.

Who won the award and who didn't mattered less; the most heated discussion still revolved around the Principal's remarks, which continued to ferment endlessly.

The credibility of several films had already collapsed, sparking massive public backlash, and now Fang Hong had added fuel to the fire.

As for Liu Tianxian, everyone admired her beauty.

At the Macau Film Festival banquet, large round tables were scattered about, covered in white tablecloths, with white chairs.

The place was lively; every table was filled with familiar faces. Of course, one banquet hall couldn't hold everyone—other halls were available too, and everyone who came got something to eat; Macau wasn't that stingy.

Liu Tianxian and Fang Hong sat together; those at their table were Macau officials and celebrities.

Before them stood stemmed glasses filled with red wine, and before each lay exquisite desserts.

"This year's Macau Film Festival was a tremendous success—thank you, Principal, for your full support!" Tan Sijiang raised his glass.

"You're too kind," Fang Hong replied, raising his glass.

Liu Tianxian paid little attention to their conversation; instead, she held her phone and took photos of the exquisite desserts on the table.

This scene was captured by someone at their table and posted online.

#TurnsOutLiuTianxianAlsoLetsHerPhoneEatFirst#

This trending topic quickly climbed back to the top; clicking it revealed a video of Liu Tianxian photographing the actual desserts.

There were too many trending topics; netizens grew weary, assuming she had bought the trend—she was simply too popular.

"Miss Liu has this habit of taking photos too!" Officer Cui observed, seeing her act like an ordinary girl.

Liu Tianxian put down her phone, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and smiled: "I just like taking pictures when I have nothing else to do."

(End of Chapter)