Chapter 482: Zhu Lin Empress, Joy Upon Joy

Yanjing, Biaozi held his daughter and looked at the courtyard under renovation in his home; in another two months they could move in, and his daughter could run around freely.

Then he placed his daughter on the bicycle’s child seat and pedaled off to Dongfang Xintiandi.

Seeing him arrive, Mei Wenhua hurriedly asked: “Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“‘The Sheep Herding Class’ won the big prize in France—the Golden Palm!” Mei Wenhua handed him a newspaper.

“Really?!” Biaozi quickly took it and looked, “Damn, won four awards—no surprise, that’s my brother!”

Xiao Mei: “No surprise—that’s my big brother-in-law!”

After all, they had once followed Wei Ming and knew well the weight of this award.

But most outsiders didn’t really understand, since China had never won such awards before, so promotion in this area had been minimal.

Right now, everyone’s focus was still on the Golden Rooster and Hundred Flowers Awards, especially the Hundred Flowers, where Gong Ying, Zhu Lin, Liu Xiaoqing, and Siqin Gaowa were all competing this year, setting a new record for votes.

Just last month, Xu Shufen bought ten copies of ‘Mass Cinema’—mainly because Zhu Lin’s ‘Du Shiniang’ and ‘Midlife’ were both nominated for Best Actress; she feared vote-splitting might affect the final result, so she bought extra copies and supported multiple times.

Because of this, she’d become close with the old man at the newsstand; today, as she passed by, he called out to her, saying there was big news.

Xu Shufen picked up the newspaper, saw it, and immediately bought a copy—because her son had won an award!

Holding four awards himself was truly glorious; her son clearly excelled at everything he did. But she didn’t even know what a palm was, let alone a Golden Palm, so she quickly called Wei Hong’s dormitory to ask: What exactly is a Golden Palm?

“The Golden Palm is the top prize of the Cannes Film Festival. You know Akira Kurosawa? He’s one of Asia’s greatest directors—just a few years ago he won the Golden Palm, but he was already seventy then. Our Ming is only in his early twenties!”

Feng Xiaogang took a Daqianmen cigarette from a colleague, tucked it behind his ear, and kept talking animatedly: “After this, Director Wei Ming can be paired with Director Xie Jin as ‘North Wei Ming, South Xie Jin.’”

At Yanjing Television Production Studio, Feng Xiaogang was explaining to Zheng Xiaolong, Zhao Baogang, and others the monumental significance of Wei Ming winning the Golden Palm, leaving his colleagues stunned.

“So Xiao Gang, you worked on this film too—will you now join the film studio?” Zhao Baogang teased him.

In Feng Xiaogang’s heart, film was indeed more prestigious than TV; he wanted to make films more—he could win so many awards, reach wider audiences, but what did TV dramas have?

But he couldn’t say that. In front of colleagues and superiors, he patted his chest and swore loyalty to the TV studio; then, after work, he ran straight to Beiyingchang to ask Chen Kaige and Feng Xiaoning for news.

But there he didn’t see Chen Kaige—instead, he spotted Ge You, dressed formally, pacing the studio grounds with chest out and head high.

Feng Xiaoning told him: “Kaige went to the northwest?”

“Why the northwest?”

Feng Xiaoning said: “Guangxi Film Studio wanted him to direct a film—a northwest-themed project—so he went to the northwest for research, and also tried to recruit Yimou as cinematographer.”

Feng Xiaogang: “Holy shit, Guangxi Studio has great taste—they’ve snagged the deputy director and cinematographer of a Golden Palm film. Didn’t they mention us Feng Brothers?”

Feng Xiaoning chuckled: “Go play with yourself.”

In Ningxia’s Helan Mountains, inside a bus on the highway, Chen Kaige and Zhang Yimou were discussing a new script, adapted from Ke Lan’s novel ‘Echoes in the Deep Valley,’ titled ‘Yellow Earth.’

At this time, Guangxi Studio’s ‘One and Eight’ and ‘Yellow Earth’ were both written by the same screenwriter, Zhang Ziliang, and both led by Guo Baochang, selecting young filmmakers.

Right now, ‘One and Eight’ was shooting at Zhenbeibao, while Zhang Yimou was preparing ‘Life’ with Wu Tianming—the shoot would start by month’s end; he wouldn’t have taken this leave unless he wanted to see his old classmate.

After reading the script, Zhang Yimou agreed in principle: “But I’ll have to wait until after ‘Life’—probably by year’s end.”

Chen Kaige: “No problem—I’ll wait. Whenever you’re free, we shoot.”

Chen Kaige, who had worked with Old Zhang on ‘The Sheep Herding Class,’ knew Old Zhang’s cinematography skills—not just natural talent, but deeply trained under Wei Ming, mastering many new techniques; he thought if they teamed up, maybe they could even get into Cannes.

Getting nominated was victory enough; Chen Kaige didn’t expect to win. In his mind, Cannes was the highest temple of art cinema, and the gap between domestic films and world cinema was enormous—perhaps another decade would be needed for their generation of directors to catch up.

In ten years, maybe he could finally taste the Golden Palm!

“Keep going—half an hour and you’ll get there,” the driver said.

After getting off, they still had to walk a stretch; they carried gifts from Yanjing. Chen Kaige was generous—he brought plenty of good food from the capital, some for Zhang Yimou’s wife and kids, the rest for the crew of ‘One and Eight.’

Director Zhang Junzhao of ‘One and Eight’ was Chen Kaige’s classmate from the directing class; cinematographer Xiao Feng was Zhang Yimou’s classmate from the cinematography class; art director He Qun was from the art class.

All were from the class of ’78; if Zhang Yimou hadn’t been taken by Wu Tianming, he’d have been assigned to the young Guangxi Film Studio too, and he’d have been part of this film.

“Kaige, you think Director Wei will win at Cannes?” Zhang Yimou asked, spitting out sand.

Chen Kaige wiped sand off his sunglasses: “I think he’ll win.”

Zhang Yimou grinned: “You think so too!”

Chen Kaige analyzed: “Wei Ming has some international influence as a writer, and the film has many strengths—it should get an encouragement award.”

“What’s an encouragement award?” Zhang Yimou asked, neck stiff with defiance.

Chen Kaige shook his head mysteriously: “Old Zhang, you’re still holed up in one corner—you don’t know enough about the outside world. This Cannes is packed with masters—Tarkovsky came this year, Scorsese with ‘Taxi Driver,’ Japan’s Oshima and Imamura—just past Golden Palm winners outnumber one hand. We all studied these films—how profound, how light, how composition! ‘The Sheep Herding Class’ feels too sentimental to me; it lacks depth.”

Zhang Yimou was momentarily dazed—was that true? But what could be deeper than a man who wanted to die choosing to live?

He thought Teacher Wei deserved at least a Jury Prize—such a vibrant film must move at least one juror.

As they talked, they saw ahead a cluster of buildings rising from flat land—this had once been a Ming-Qing military fortress, later inhabited, now abandoned, leaving only earthen and wooden ruins unfit for living.

Chen Kaige: “This must be Zhenbeibao.”

Ahead walked a middle-aged man wearing glasses; Zhang Yimou approached him.

“Excuse me—are you from Guangxi Film Studio?”

“Oh no, no—I’m just a writer,” the man pushed up his glasses and introduced himself, “I’m Zhang Xianliang, here for research.”

Zhang Yimou: “Oh! I know you—‘Old Xing and His Dog’ is yours, right?”

Chen Kaige: “And ‘The Bronze Bell’ and ‘Children of the River.’”

Chen Kaige had wide reading; he knew Zhang Xianliang’s works by heart. Though the northwest’s brightest star was Lu Yao, Zhang Xianliang in Yinchuan was no less distinguished—even if Wei Ming had stolen the fame of ‘The Herdsman,’ he remained Ningxia’s top literary seed.

So the three entered together to visit the ‘One and Eight’ crew.

“You two are filmmakers too—any works of your own?” Zhang Xianliang asked.

Though Chen Kaige thought ‘The Sheep Herding Class’ might get only an encouragement award, he still took pride in it; his lips curled: “You know ‘The Sheep Herding Class’?”

“Of course! It swept four major awards at Cannes and won the top prize—the Golden Palm—bringing great honor to Chinese cinema and the Chinese people! I read the news on my way here and still feel stirred!”

Zhang Xianliang spoke in rapid-fire praise, his tone brimming with envy—he couldn’t direct, but if someone could lift his novel to such a stage, he’d have no regrets.

Seeing Chen Kaige and Zhang Yimou gaping, Chen Kaige’s sunglasses slipping down, Zhang Xianliang asked: “So? What’s your connection to this film?”

Zhang Yimou straightened his posture: “I’m the cinematographer of ‘The Sheep Herding Class.’ This is the deputy director.”

Zhang Xianliang’s eyes lit up: “My apologies!”

From then on, he became even more enthusiastic, eager to pitch his novels to them, hoping to get them adapted into films and boost his fame.

Their arrival brought the news of ‘The Sheep Herding Class’ dominating Cannes; Zhang Junzhao and the others all saw it as their ultimate goal.

Actors like Chen Daoming, Tao Zheru, and Xie Yuan envied Li Baotian even more—surely foreigners now recognized his old face.

That night, before the only TV in Zhenbeibao, the crew and visitors Chen Kaige and Zhang Yimou watched the evening news—and to their surprise, there was news about ‘The Sheep Herding Class.’

Besides reiterating that ‘The Sheep Herding Class’ had won the top prize—the Golden Palm—at the world’s most famous international film festival, it added new content.

Zhao Zhongxiang, in his rich voice, reported: “Directed by writer Wei Ming, ‘The Sheep Herding Class’ has been wildly popular overseas, selling global distribution rights across all five continents within a single day—it will soon reach audiences worldwide!”

This was a major victory for Chinese cinema’s overseas outreach, greatly expanding China’s global influence.

But many—including Zhang Xianliang, Chen Kaige, and Feng Xiaogang—were more curious: if all global rights were sold, how much money did that bring in?!

Liu Xiaoqing didn’t care how much ‘The Sheep Herding Class’ earned; she only cared how much Gong Ying got paid for cutting ribbons.

So upon arriving in Fuzhou, she immediately went to find Gong Ying—her film ‘The Depths of the Soul,’ adapted from Meng Weizai’s novel, was nominated for the Hundred Flowers Award, produced by Changchun Film Studio.

Gong Ying and Zhu Lin had just finished watching the national broadcast; hearing ‘The Sheep Herding Class’ would be screened worldwide, they felt proud of their little man—and a little envious of Pan Hong.