Chapter 22: A Trip Home While I'm At It

It didn't take two days before trouble arrived, just as expected.

There was plenty of entertainment news, the biggest being the upcoming release of *House of Flying Daggers*, or the scheduling of *Kung Fu Hustle* and *A World Without Thieves* for December.

There was also *Return to Youth*, released in October, with plenty of media coverage from China Film Group, Shanghai Film Group, and Enlight Media, not to mention the many TV stations with good relations with Enlight.

There was no shortage of celebrity gossip—monks, car accidents, fights over husbands—but Lin Nan couldn't stand seeing himself in it.

"Actress Ms. Jiang and a commercial film director meet alone at a cafe..."

"Director Lin Nan meets secretly with Jiang Wenli, the latter being the wife of another director..."

Lin Nan had always been the one eating melons and watching others' gossip; when had he ever experienced this himself?

There was such a large age gap, how could that be possible!

And that mosaic was better off not being there at all.

Jiang Wenli even called Lin Nan to apologize, saying the paparazzi had originally been tailing her.

Lin Nan understood this in his heart; ever since she had domineeringly slapped an actress on set, she had been targeted by these paparazzi looking for a scoop.

Lin Nan basically holed up in his dorm for three days, and it wasn't until Jiang Wenli made a clarification and produced photos of the script that the matter was settled.

Lin Nan received quite a few calls over these three days, some asking about the gossip, others about the movie, until he finally just turned his phone off.

Liu Qianqian's avatar was flashing, full of sarcasm, and she wanted to see the script for *Blind Mountain*; once she read it, she was even angrier, because she couldn't play the role in this script.

He urged Liu Qianqian not to leak the script's content; for now, only the title had gotten out.

"Don't worry, I won't even tell my mom."

"What have you been doing these past two days?"

"Stretching, practicing martial arts, reading the original novel, and, um, chatting with you."

That last sentence didn't count; that wasn't chatting, Lin Nan had simply been subjected to two days of snide remarks.

July arrived, and Zhang Yimou was no longer satisfied with just a screening; he actually wanted to hold a premiere and even find Dao Lang to perform.

The fans were supportive, but the music scene was in an uproar.

This was a circle, and also a hierarchy; the high-and-mighty, established singers did their utmost to belittle this grassroots singer from the bottom of society.

They started by criticizing his lyrics and aesthetics, even escalating it to a matter of class.

"What's wrong with being a farmer? Did farmers eat your rice?" Many people said this, including Lin Nan.

Some people were inconsistent in their logic; when comparing sales with those around them, if they couldn't beat the grassroots singer, they would then say one shouldn't just look at sales.

Zhang Yimou still successfully persuaded Dao Lang, and the music industry began a mode of frenzied bombardment.

Lin Nan attended the premiere; it was still the style of Old Zhang—the colors, the visuals, were stunning on the big screen, but in terms of narrative, Lin Nan felt it wasn't as good as *Hero*. He liked *Hero* more; no one could refuse the scene of the Qin army shouting, "Wind! Wind! Great Wind!"

Since the new century, in the domestic film market, the first movie to officially gross over 100 million in box office, according to official statistics, was *Fatal Decision*.

But if one were to talk about a film truly produced with private investment that grossed over 100 million, it would have to be *Hero* from the year before last, at 250 million.

Zhang Yimou was the first to eat the crab, the first commercial director in the 100-million club, and the kind who didn't lose money.

So from that time on, Zhang Yimou's influence became unparalleled; although many old directors were unwilling to compromise, the only things that could push the development of the film industry were commercial films, not the art-house films and realistic subjects they were passionate about.

*House of Flying Daggers* would continue to break 100 million; no one would doubt that.

Sure enough, its box office climbed steadily; with no foreign blockbusters imported from the end of June to early August, there was only *Troy*, which was also nearing the end of its run.

This resulted in *House of Flying Daggers* having the momentum to sweep everything—10 million, 30 million, 50 million—by early August, the box office had already reached 140 million, and the film industry had once again welcomed a 100-million-grossing film.

Zhang Yimou had proven himself once again; the man behind the National Master spoke very loudly, and no one dared to refute him.

The Golden Rooster and Hundred Flowers Film Festival was about to hold a press conference, right in the capital.

The press conference would only do one thing: announce the nominations for the Hundred Flowers Awards and the Golden Rooster Awards.

Lin Nan had been mentally prepared for a long time; even if he were nominated, it would only be for a minor award, and that would be on the Hundred Flowers side.

As expected, *Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind* and *Return to Youth* were both nominated for the Hundred Flowers Award for Best Feature Film.

Looking at the list of nominations for the Hundred Flowers, most of the films were down-to-earth, the actors were familiar, and they were the kind the audience liked.

Conversely, for the Golden Rooster, despite so many award nominations, Zhang Yimou's *House of Flying Daggers* and Feng Xiaogang's *Cell Phone* were actually not in the main categories; the main categories were all nominated for art-house films.

In the eyes of the masters on the Golden Rooster jury, the two big commercial directors were nothing; if you asked why, it was because you didn't understand film art.

The freshmen were expected to arrive very early this year; heard the military training plan was already out, so he offered them a moment of silence.

Meanwhile, Lin Nan stayed in the dorm watching the Olympics. Many of his peers had bought computers; they were all people who had been on sets or filmed commercials. That guy Zhu Yawen got himself one for over 20,000, saying it was for watching big Western movies and learning, but who would believe that?

Zhang Yimou was probably in Athens right now, waiting for the flag handover ceremony at the closing ceremony, as well as the program he directed.

Liu Feiren's final was on the 28th, which was today.

After today, the Flying Man would ascend to the altar; after today, the National Master would be met with a barrage of criticism.

Lin Nan watched the screen; track and field had entered the finals, which was a historic moment, especially at the Olympics.

Twelve point nine one. Seeing the time freeze at that moment, the commentator roared with excitement. Lin Nan turned off the computer, feeling satisfied.

The media should be about to explode.

In the early hours of the 30th, Lin Nan specifically stayed up late. The big screen at the closing ceremony venue began playing a promotional video: old people, children, martial arts, drumming...

The first program to go on stage was a dozen young women in cheongsams and short skirts, playing and dancing with erhus, pipas, and drums, full of youthful vigor.

For their own people to watch, it might seem lacking in depth, old-fashioned, and conservative, but in the eyes of people from other countries in the world, it was just right.

Martial arts performances, Peking Opera performances, solo singing... everything that should be there was there, displaying many ethnic elements in a very short time.

Lin Nan covered his head and went to sleep.

On the 31st, the freshmen had already begun to arrive at the school one after another.

This time Lin Nan wasn't forcibly conscripted to welcome the newcomers, but he went and joined in anyway.

He didn't turn on his computer in the morning; the news content was predictable.

Several acquaintances were discussing while welcoming the newcomers, and there were newspapers on the table.

Lin Nan couldn't help it and took a glance.

Literary and art figures with all sorts of titles were not sparing with their words.

The narrative about short skirts and cheongsams being improper had already come out.

The four words "culturally vulgar" were written clearly on it, accompanied by a picture of a dozen pairs of fair, long legs.

"This is that someone-or-other from our '03 class, she's quite pretty."

"They're all pretty..."

The news about the Olympics was overwhelming, and the attacks on Zhang Yimou soon disappeared; at least the authorities approved of him.

By this time, *House of Flying Daggers* had long since finished its run, having forcefully raked in over 150 million at the domestic box office, far below expectations.

But even so, Zhang Yimou's status in the film industry remained number one in the country.

People from Shanghai Film Group and China Film Group called to remind Lin Nan to prepare for the awards ceremony.

Since this time it was in the country and he could openly skip class, Zhu Yawen was eager to go over early.

"The world is going downhill, and people's hearts are not what they used to be." Zhu Yawen pointed at the computer screen for Lin Nan to see.

International Zhang kissing a wealthy young heir on the street. "Don't be so surprised," Lin Nan said.

Jingjing the sparkling one also caught the eye of a young master; the two brothers seemed to be competing over whose girlfriend was more famous, with gossip every single day.

"You say we only got nominated for a Best Feature Film award, is it okay to go so early?"

Zhu Yawen asked.

Lin Nan mainly didn't want to attend class; going out a few days early would just be for fun.

"Then you stay and attend a few more days of class?"

"Forget it, let's go over early and eat lamb."

"That's the spirit. I'll also take the time to go back to my hometown and see my dad."

The last time Lin Nan went back was during the 2003 Spring Festival, when he got the money for his plane ticket to Berlin; it had been a year and a half since he'd gone back to visit.

"That's good too, there's plenty of good food there. Your family runs a restaurant, I remember you said that."

"Then let's go, there will definitely be no shortage of food and drink."

The two went separately to ask for leave. Lin Nan's reason was very appropriate: first, to attend the film festival, as his film was nominated, even if it was a marginal award; second, to scout locations for his new film, as it was a rural drama.

Zhu Yawen had a harder time; there were Zhou Yang and Jiang Yiyan in the class who were also going. When asked why they were leaving so early, he stammered and sold Lin Nan out, saying he was the one calling for them to go scout locations.

The leave was approved, but he was also scolded for a long time. No matter how old the students were, teachers could always see through the truth at a glance.

This time they didn't take the train, but flew directly; it was a neighboring city, quite close.

"Damn, Boss Lin, your place is quite big, isn't it?"

Zhu Yawen stood by the side of the road, looking at the restaurant diagonally across the way.

Lin Nan smiled embarrassedly; the old man was quite efficient. The land he bought on both sides plus their original shop had actually been renovated, and he even added a second floor.

It really looked quite big, in an antique style, with the front door opening onto the street, and the total length on both sides must have been over twenty meters.

"Can your dad handle the business?"

"How would I know? Every time I call, he never tells me how the business is doing."

Lin Nan was also curious. "Let's go, come in with me and see." He also urged Zhu Yawen to keep a low profile.

It was past twelve, just in time for lunch, and there were many people, with stairs to the second floor on both sides.

"Welcome, what would you like to eat?"

Oh, Lin Nan was stunned; it was a waitress he didn't recognize, probably hired in the last year.

Zhu Yawen stepped forward. "I'm looking for Uncle Lin, I'm his son's classmate." After saying that, he laughed himself.

The waitress listened to Zhu Yawen's Mandarin and was a bit at a loss, barely saying, "The boss is in the back."

Lin Nan didn't let Zhu Yawen continue to mess around and walked through the main hall first to go to the backyard. "Hey, hey, outsiders aren't allowed in the back."

The waitress hurriedly chased after Lin Nan, but the latter had already reached the backyard.

Old Lin sat on a recliner under the sweet osmanthus tree, looking very relaxed, with tea and spiced beef on the small table beside him.

"You really know how to enjoy yourself, old man."

"Oh my, you brat, you gave me a fright."

The waiter chased after him, and behind him was Zhu Yawen.

Seeing the boss chatting and laughing, they then left.

Old Lin was very happy that his boy had returned without a word, and judging by what he heard, he and his classmates were going to the neighboring province in a few days to attend a film festival.

In the private room in the backyard, Lin Nan and Zhu Yawen were eating beef soup with flatbread with great relish, along with two plates of beef and lamb.