Chapter 68: Seeing the Banners Again

Generally speaking, Huang Lei’s career was still going quite smoothly this year.

The TV series *Oranges Turn Red*, which recently wrapped up filming, was directed by Li Shaohong, a highly successful director in the television industry, and starred Huang Lei and Xun Ge’er; this definitely counted as the highest-quality resource available today.

This was the second time Huang Lei had collaborated with Xun Ge’er, the first being the hit drama *April Rhapsody*.

When he went to do voice-over work for the drama yesterday, Huang Lei was quite happy; Xun Ge’er clearly hadn't recovered from the blow in Venice, and since she invested her emotions into her acting and easily got into character, it was obvious she was somewhat attached to him.

In the past, Huang Lei wouldn't have felt much—to speak narcissistically, given his current status and his image as a literary youth, there were plenty of girls attached to him.

What had given him a sense of frustration these past few months was that Milk Tea Liu was ignoring him, and it looked like their "fourth type of relationship" was about to fall through, which once caused him to doubt his own status and charm.

Fortunately, seeing Xun Ge’er yesterday, she had the same demeanor as always, which helped him regain a bit of confidence.

What made him even happier was that Li Shaohong said the drama had already been mostly negotiated with CCTV, and if there were no surprises, it would be broadcast as the opening blockbuster on the CCTV drama channel, which meant there was basically no need to worry about ratings.

Success in his career helped Huang Lei regain his confidence.

Returning to school early this morning, just as he entered the office, it seemed like a familiar scene was playing out again.

A large group of teachers from the Acting Department were chatting with Wang Jinsong, and sounds of envy and congratulations could be heard from time to time.

Huang Lei felt a wave of annoyance; his good mood was greatly dampened, and he had a bad premonition in his heart.

Sure enough, as soon as Teacher Liu from next door came in, he started loudly teasing Wang Jinsong.

"Old Wang, you’re really something now, a Venice Golden Lion; you’re also an actor with a Golden Lion award-winning film."

Wang Jinsong waved his hands, his mouth grinning almost to his ears.

"Hey, what Golden Lion or not, I just played a small supporting role; it’s Director Cao who thinks highly of me, Old Wang, and always thinks of me when there’s something good. Thanks to Director Cao, haha..."

"Golden Lion?!"

Huang Lei’s shocked words slipped out; he had been busy with voice-over work for the drama until very late yesterday, so where would he have had time to pay attention to this?

Although he knew Cao Yang’s *Empty Room* had stayed in Venice to participate in the closing ceremony, in Huang Lei’s view, the special Best Screenplay award at Venice this year should have been prepared for Cao Yang.

Golden Lion? This clearly exceeded his imagination.

Seeing someone look over, Huang Lei gave a hollow laugh and hurriedly tried to cover it up.

"Golden Lion is good, Golden Lion is good, Golden Lion... right, treat, Old Wang has to treat, he must treat."

Others joined in the clamor.

"Old Wang must treat."

"Right, treat."

Wang Jinsong smiled and waved his hands, "Hey, you guys... fine, I’ll treat, tonight, at the same place as last time, everyone come."

Thus, the group started chatting again, but clearly, Wang Jinsong had become the center of the conversation.

This made Huang Lei so envious; that was a Golden Lion, one of the big three in Europe, and damn it, if he could write that into his resume, it would be much better than a research paper.

To get by in a work unit, no matter how famous you are, it’s useless when it comes to promotions; either your papers have to be impressive, or your awards have to be numerous and prestigious.

Like Wang Jinsong, even if he wasn't a main actor, as long as he could write on his resume: "Participated in the Berlin Jury Grand Prix film *On the Beach at Night Alone*, participated in the Venice Golden Lion award-winning film *Empty Room*..."

Whether for promotion or evaluating professional titles, these were very important bonus points.

Because this was the Beijing Film Academy, this was the Acting Department; what could be more convincing than these awards?

Huang Lei was depressed; the laughter in the office was truly piercing, these people had no sense of being role models for teachers, and he was ashamed to be associated with them!

Go clear his head.

Just as he left the Acting Department, he saw a dozen student union cadres walking over, holding red cloth and talking to each other.

"Where are you all going?"

Huang Lei’s heart stirred, and he asked.

"Teacher Huang."

"Teacher Huang." These people greeted him and explained: "Director Cao won the Golden Lion, bringing glory to the school; Dean Hou personally ordered us to go hang these banners."

The thought in Huang Lei’s mind became clearer; why did that old guy Wang Jinsong "hustle" two big awards? Wasn't it because he sucked up to Cao Yang early on, and Cao Yang was willing to promote him?

He had known Cao Yang longer, so why should he let that old guy with the surname Wang take all the credit?

"Go, I’ll keep an eye on things for you. Director Cao being able to win such a top-tier award in his junior year... oh, he’s a senior now, is both a reflection of his own ability and a way to bring glory to the school. We must be serious about hanging these banners and reflect the school’s importance."

Then, leading a few student union members along the way, Huang Lei would greet anyone he knew in advance.

"Ha, nothing much, it’s just that Director Cao Yang from the Directing Department just won the Golden Lion, bringing glory to the school. Dean Hou values talent and personally ordered the banners to be hung. I’ve known Director Cao for a while, so I volunteered to participate..."

This time, the school really did attach great importance to it; a student currently enrolled winning a Golden Lion—which school leader wouldn't be so happy they couldn't find north?

Was the Beijing Film Academy producing directors just talk?

Didn't you see that under the guidance of school leaders and the cultivation of the Directing Department, a student could win a Golden Lion!

Looking across the country, no, forget the country, even looking globally, such a young student director was one of a kind.

What American Film Institute, what USC School of Cinematic Arts, what Australian Film Television and Radio School, what Centro Sperimentale di Cinematografia, what University of Television and Film Munich, what National Film and Television School...

!

All of you, step aside!

Where is this? This is the Beijing Film Academy, which cultivated a student who won a Golden Lion while still in school.

May I ask, which of you has the ability to cultivate talent like this?

Banners? Hang them, hang them all up.

School gate? Hang it.

Don't forget to extend it a bit further, hang them on both sides of the road.

Playground? Hang it up.

Dormitory? Hang it up.

Canteen? Hang it up.

Office building? Hang it up.

Teaching building? Hang it up.

Hang them all up.

Huang Lei couldn't help but want to show off a bit more, asking Dean Hou if they should extend it a little further, just to the gate of the Central Academy of Drama.

Dong Xuan stayed up late last night guarding her computer, constantly refreshing the three major portals, and occasionally checking the Tianya Community, where she spent a long time arguing with a bastard called "Circle Insider Number One."

When Liu Ye won Best Newcomer, she couldn't help but feel envious but not jealous; apart from being a bit eccentric, Liu Ye’s acting skills were beyond reproach—he was worthy of being International Zhang’s classmate.

The acting skills of people from the Central Academy of Drama were still on point, about the same as the acting class at the Beijing Film Academy—half a catty versus eight taels.

Perhaps it should be the modern ten-tael scale.

When Yu Feihong won Best Actress at Venice, Dong Xuan felt it was both unexpected and reasonable.

What ten-tael scale, it was clearly the ancient sixteen-tael scale; half a catty and eight taels meant the same thing.

Your Central Academy of Drama produced a Venice Best Actress in Gong Li, and my Beijing Film Academy also produced a Venice Best Actress in Yu Feihong!

She was someone who had witnessed Yu Feihong’s acting explode after being coached by Cao Yang; that kind of effortless and free-flowing acting was something she felt she could never achieve in her life.

However, if she could be coached by Cao Yang... it wasn't impossible to surpass the Central Academy of Drama.

In a word, Cao Yang was the true god, and Yu Feihong was the biggest beneficiary.

Thinking of this, she couldn't help but envy Yu Feihong’s luck.

Dong Xuan envied Yu Feihong’s luck, not knowing that she was also the object of envy for other students in the class, who thought she was the luckiest one.

The first film she participated in as a freshman won a Venice Golden Lion; although it was only a small supporting role, this starting point was high enough.

(End of chapter)