Chapter 293

Beijing, airport.

When Wu Yuchen emerged from the corridor and saw the reception scene, he was slightly surprised.

Banners were stretched, flowers held high, reporters clustered in a crowd, and Han Sanping and others stood proudly in the front row waiting.

To be honest, Wu Yuchen had assumed that during the SARS outbreak, no one would stage such a grand reception—but the spectacle was no smaller than when his film *Love* first won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film two years prior.

As Wu Yuchen walked through a flurry of flashbulbs, Han Sanping stepped forward and shook his hand: “Welcome back, Director Wu, victorious from the Oscars! Our Oscar-winning director, you’ve worked hard!”

Then came the flower presentation, the display of the Oscar statuette, the speeches—all the rituals completed—only when he got into the car did he finally exhale and ask Han Sanping:

“Big Brother Han, isn’t SARS still spreading? Why go to such lengths?”

Han Sanping laughed outright: “We checked carefully—everything under control, everyone screened, the event approved. You’ve brought glory to our Huaxia; the ceremony must be held.”

Wu Yuchen thought it over: though SARS had caused panic, the total confirmed cases nationwide were only around five thousand—tiny compared to what it would become twenty years later. So such normal activities were truly unaffected.

“Big Brother Han, still be cautious—I heard this disease is pretty frightening,” Wu Yuchen reminded.

Han Sanping nodded: “I hear the authorities are taking it seriously—cinemas are all closed. I thought it’d pass quickly, but there’s still no clear timeline. This might complicate your film’s release.”

Han Sanping sighed: “It’s a shame. And now, thanks to the Oscar, the public is buzzing for your *The Boy in the Striped Pajamas*—they’re desperate to see it. We can’t release it, but we can’t stop piracy, damn it!”

Wu Yuchen shook his head gently: “Theatrical release isn’t important. Prioritize the bigger picture. Don’t let my film spread SARS to more people—that would be a sin.”

Han Sanping looked at Wu Yuchen: “Brother Wu, what are you suggesting?”

…

It was a habit he’d cultivated for years: he kept up with important news from publications like *Qiushi* and *Guangming Daily*.

It was essentially a vital channel for understanding international public opinion and trends—even many top officials regularly read *Time* as a reference.

The middle-aged man paused after reading this, lost in thought: the last time someone from Huaxia graced the *Time* cover was back in 1997!

Looking at Wu Yuchen on the cover, the man smiled—it was a good sign, showing growing global influence of overseas Chinese and Huaxia’s deepening integration with the world.

Especially its choice of cover figures—each one a towering figure in their field, sparking widespread attention and debate.

Moments later, he set down the newspaper and spotted the latest issue of *Time*.

The headline read: “The Oscar Director Who Broke History: Leader of a New Force in Cinema!”

Though merely a weekly, *Time* wielded far greater influence than ordinary news outlets, regarded as the world’s most influential news magazine.

The cover showed a half-length photo of Wu Yuchen, beside him the Oscar trophy. He smiled calmly—his demeanor exuded steadiness and confidence.

On the other side of his photo, vertical labels read: Youngest, Most Talented, Most Influential, Best Director.

Wu Yuchen said with a smile: “My idea is to broadcast the film directly on the movie channel. Release it theatrically after SARS ends.”

Wu Yuchen thought and added: “Big Brother Han, I’ve considered this too. I suspect SARS won’t end soon—cinemas may stay closed indefinitely. Rather than let people scramble for pirated copies, let’s release it openly!”

In a modestly furnished but not luxurious office, a middle-aged man picked up his brewed tea, sipped it, then habitually flipped through the newspapers and magazines his secretary had organized.

The article included a photo of Wu Yuchen—the exact moment he was captured on stage accepting the Oscar for Best Director.

At that moment, the middle-aged man was drawn to the *Time* cover—there, unmistakably, was a familiar Chinese face: Wu Yuchen!

“Brother Wu, that’ll cost you a fortune in box office!”

He flipped open the magazine and found the feature interview on Wu Yuchen.

Wu Yuchen waved his hand: “Most people will watch pirated copies anyway. Letting pirates profit is what truly pains me. I’m releasing it for free—a gift to our Huaxia people during SARS.”

Han Sanping immediately raised a thumb: “Brother Wu, your righteousness is admirable!”

“Wu Yuchen, this year’s Oscar Best Director—his name has now spread across the entire world!”

But even before this, he had already achieved remarkable accomplishments: …

Then came a brief overview of Wu Yuchen’s past achievements: awards from the Oscars to Europe’s Big Three, box office hits from *Pirates of the Sea* and *The Sixth Sense* to Asian hits like *My Sassy Girl* and *If You Are the One*.

As the article put it: “You may not know his name, but you’ve definitely seen his films.”

Then came excerpts from the interview with Wu Yuchen:

“Wu, congratulations on breaking Oscar history—you’re the first non-white to win Best Director. An extraordinary feat. What are your thoughts?”

“Thank you! Of course I’m thrilled. This award recognizes me and my films. As for breaking history, my personal role is only part of it—it’s largely the tide of the times. It also shows the world’s progress, and America becoming more open and inclusive.”

The middle-aged man smiled, thinking: this kid’s clever—he knows how to flatter the Americans to win favor. He quickly scanned other questions he found interesting.

“Wu, over the past few years, Chinese elements have grown increasingly common in Hollywood. Can you explain why?”

In recent years, Chinese elements had indeed become more vibrant: on-screen stars like Cheng Long and Li Lianjie, films like *Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon*, *The Sword of the Snowy Blade*, and *Hero* had all achieved strong box office results. And Wu Yuchen’s *Love* and *The Boy in the Striped Pajamas* had consecutively swept the Oscars, greatly boosting the visibility of Chinese-language cinema.

Especially this time—Wu Yuchen winning Best Director for *The Boy in the Striped Pajamas* clearly demonstrated significant influence even in Hollywood, seen as a landmark event signaling the rise of Chinese-language cinema on the global stage.

“In my view, it’s an inevitable outcome of global development and progress—rooted in our Huaxia civilization!”

“Oh? Could you elaborate?”

“Many view Huaxia as a mysterious, distant land—but Huaxia is a nation with five thousand years of ancient civilization, a lovely place inhabited by lovely people.

With technological advancement, globalization deepens, and ties between nations and regions grow ever tighter, inevitably bringing more cultural exchange and communication.

As a country of over a billion people, Huaxia boasts vast talent and a rich, deeply captivating culture—it naturally shines in this process. That’s why Chinese-language cinema and Chinese elements have grown so prevalent in Hollywood these past few years!”

“As a director, I’m merely a bridge—helping more people see and experience the finest parts of Huaxia’s culture and history.”

The middle-aged man looked up, his eyes filled with admiration: “A fine bridge!”

Though Wu Yuchen downplayed himself, without this bridge, no matter how brilliant, profound, or dazzling Huaxia’s culture and history, the world would never see it.

At that moment, his secretary smiled and asked: “Boss, what’s got you so pleased?”

The middle-aged man pointed to the *Time* cover: “Our little Director Wu? He’s truly impressive.”

The secretary chuckled: “Winning Best Director? Of course he’s exceptional~”

The middle-aged man shook his head with a smile: “Ability is one thing—but his ideological awareness? Far stronger than most.”

Today, many treat America as a beacon. Countless talents cultivated by our nation never return. Even worse, some, after seeing developed countries, constantly belittle their homeland, seeking a false sense of superiority—as if they’re somehow better than those back home.

The middle-aged man disliked such behavior. Though foreign environments may be good, a son never despises his mother. If everyone thought this way, how could the nation ever develop? Without national strength as backing, citizens will forever be looked down upon globally.

Wu Yuchen’s attitude, however, he admired: he acknowledged America’s prosperity and excellence without complaint or denigration of his own country. Instead, he actively promoted Huaxia’s culture and image. Such a young talent who, once successful, never forgets his roots—that’s the kind Huaxia needs!

Reading this, the middle-aged man raised his head and asked his secretary: “I recall we arranged to attend Wu Yuchen’s award ceremony—when is it?”

The secretary replied immediately: “Boss, it’s next Tuesday.”

The middle-aged man smiled: “I’d really like to meet him now—have a proper chat.”

The secretary was slightly surprised—he couldn’t fathom what in *Time* had made his boss so impressed with Wu Yuchen.

But he quickly raised a thumb, agreeing: “You’re right—this kind of capable, responsible young role model? He’s the backbone of our motherland!”

“Hmm. A youth role model,” the middle-aged man repeated with a smile.

…

At this moment, Wu Yuchen paid little attention to the praise flooding in—he’d received far too many flowers and compliments lately.

Newspapers, TV, the internet—all lauded him. “Huaxia’s top director” was ordinary; now he was called “World’s Best Director.” Wu Yuchen’s stance? Keep it low-key.

In the past few days since returning, he’d mainly spent time with those around him. The award ceremony was scheduled for days later—giving him time to relax and reset.

At this moment, Gao Yuanyuan lay on her side, propping her chin with her hand, smiling warmly as she gazed at the man before her.

Wu Yuchen noticed and gently brushed his right index finger across her cheek: “What are you looking at?”

“You,” Gao Yuanyuan answered without hesitation.

“What’s so interesting about me?” Wu Yuchen smiled.

“I just can’t get enough,” she said, then leaned forward and kissed him.

Wu Yuchen pulled her close, kissed her for a while, then gently cupped her face and smiled: “Our Yuanyuan? She’s getting more beautiful every day.”

When they first met years ago, Gao Yuanyuan was still a bit naive, youthful—merely a small beauty. But these past years, under Wu Yuchen’s guidance, she’d reached her peak, transformed into a full-blown beauty—Wu Yuchen loved her more with every glance.

Gao Yuanyuan pressed her cheek against Wu Yuchen’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, murmuring: “Chen-ge, when I watched the Oscars, I was so nervous my palms were sweating. When I saw you on stage, I thought—you’re the most beautiful man in the world! I wanted to rush into your arms and hold you forever.”

Wu Yuchen rubbed his forehead gently against her small head: “Then I’ll let you hold me forever.”

Gao Yuanyuan hugged him tighter. She’d been with Wu Yuchen for years—she knew he had other women. But such a charismatic, wonderful man—how could she ever leave?

Though not as bold as a Beijing girl, she had her own trait: if she didn’t like someone, she didn’t care; if she liked someone, she loved them completely—she followed her heart. Wu Yuchen, this top-tier cultural idol with talent, struck her right at the core—perfectly matching every fantasy and requirement she’d ever had for a man.

All she wanted now was to stay by Wu Yuchen’s side, savoring every second with him.