Chapter 108: Angry Retort to the Devil

"Hurry up and stick it on, before someone discovers us!"

"Brother Hai, do we really need to do this? We’re all from the same country."

The slightly older one was named Sun Hai, the leader of the promotional team sent to Venice by Huayi in coordination with the *The Missing Gun* production crew.

His hands moved with fluid consistency, skillfully covering a poster for *The Missing Gun* over one for *Whiplash*.

Hearing the words of this young man who had just graduated, Sun Hai turned back and glared: "Who pays your salary? Too much talk! Just do as Mr. Wang and the director ordered!"

"Besides, among the domestic films here, only our *The Missing Gun* has the best chance of winning an award. Do you understand unity? Now is the time for their crew to practice it!"

Behind them, the members of the *Whiplash* crew all looked displeased; Liu Yifei was so angry she wanted to step forward to argue, but was held back by Lu Kuan.

It was pointless to bicker with these small-fry; Boss Lu didn't like beating dogs, he only liked slapping their masters in the face.

Tian Zhuangzhuang patted his shoulder: "I'll go make a call to Lu Chuan and ask."

He knew Lu Kuan had a bad temper; if you provoked him, it didn't matter if you were a tycoon from Xiangjiang or a popular young star, if you didn't act with decency, he would help you become decent.

But as compatriots exhibiting abroad together, this sense of decency still had to be maintained; they couldn't let outsiders laugh at them.

This sixth-generation director was also trying to consider the bigger picture, fearing unnecessary misunderstandings.

Lu Kuan smiled with a calm expression: "Don't bother, Mr. Tian. Rest assured, I have a sense of proportion."

Suddenly, a few sycophantic calls reached everyone's ears: "Mr. Tian! Mr. Tian!"

Speak of the devil, and the devil appears!

Lu Chuan and Wang Xiaolei stepped down from the car arranged by the production crew, arriving at the Palazzo del Cinema as representatives of the director and the investors, Huayi, for *The Missing Gun*.

It was only because Jiang Wen hadn't come; otherwise, the "devil" would have had to sit in the car behind.

Tian Zhuangzhuang, having a detached personality, greeted the two of them and then turned to introduce Lu Kuan and the others.

"This is the young director Lu Kuan; he will be a member of the Beijing Film Academy's directing department next month."

All three were from the Beijing Film Academy: Lu Kuan was in the 2002 directing class, Lu Chuan was a 1998 graduate student in the directing department, and Tian Zhuangzhuang was from the 1978 directing class.

In the social circles of our countrymen, being from the same hometown or school is an unavoidable bond; Tian Zhuangzhuang introduced them this way to try and bring everyone closer, so things wouldn't get ugly later.

Lu Chuan adjusted his glasses, glanced at Lu Kuan, and continued chatting with Tian Zhuangzhuang, clearly not taking the harmless-looking Boss Lu seriously.

Wang Xiaolei, on the other hand, took his time sizing up Lu Kuan—so this was the thorn in Liu Zeyu's side?

His appearance was indeed quite good, somewhat to the taste of the two brothers.

He then caught a glimpse of Liu Yifei standing prettily to the side, and his eyes lit up again.

Compared to the buxom beauties he was used to, this fresh, tender, and crisp lotus root, as if just plucked from the water, was much more refreshing and lovely.

It was no wonder the young scion, who knew the taste of food and sex, was losing his appetite.

"Lu Kuan, right? Hello, let's get to know each other."

The younger Mr. Wang reached out his hand with a leisurely air, looking like a condescending benefactor, fully embodying the posture of a tycoon from a major film and television company.

Lu Kuan didn't want to touch his hand; he didn't know if the hand had been touching breasts or rods last night.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Wang. There's something I'd like to ask you."

If you want to hit someone, you hit them in the face; he walked over to the poster wall that had just been covered and rudely tore down the poster for *The Missing Gun*.

Lu Chuan was furious; this film was his debut, his virgin territory, and to be trampled on like this naturally filled him with extreme resentment.

"What are you doing!"

"Director Lu! Mr. Wang!"

Before he could lash out, Lu Kuan seized the initiative: "Just now, two sneaky guys impersonated Huayi staff and stuck *The Missing Gun* posters over *Whiplash*."

"They even said it was under the instructions of Mr. Wang and Director Lu. I suspect it was done by a crew from the Taiwan region to sow discord among us mainland crews. What do you think?"

This year in Venice, three films from the Taiwan region were selected.

Zhang Zuoji's *Beautiful Summer*, Zheng Wentang's *Dreamland*, and Lin Taizhou's *Blue Chariot* occupied half of the Chinese-language films selected.

Lu Chuan had just wanted to scold this young junior from the Beijing Film Academy for not knowing the rules, but after being cut off by his words, he suddenly looked like someone who had been caught halfway through eating excrement.

He couldn't spit it out, and he couldn't swallow it.

Wang Xiaolei said with a calm, solemn expression: "There's such a thing?!"

"I will immediately file a complaint with the various Taiwan crews and the film festival committee. How could they do such a thing!"

Boss Lu waved his hand with a smile, too lazy to engage in hypocrisy with them; if he dug any deeper, it would just be the fault of some "temporary worker."

"Hello directors, could we have an interview?"

Hong Kong, Taiwan, and domestic media lurking nearby arrived at the news; they had actually come for Lu Chuan and *The Missing Gun*.

After all, with Jiang Wen's participation and the backing of Huayi and China Film Group, it was easier to gain favor at the film festival.

Seeing the cameras and microphones, everyone temporarily set aside their disputes; Wang Xiaolei and Lu Kuan adjusted the fastest—they were both dirty dogs, so there was no need to be pretentious.

Only Lu "the devil" still had an unnatural expression, taking a few deep breaths to compose himself.

Tian Zhuangzhuang sneered inwardly and shook his head, feeling that a scholar like Lu Chuan really had no words to say when encountering a reckless man with brains like Lu Kuan.

But ultimately, they were in the wrong; if Lu Kuan hadn't gained the upper hand, he would have had to uphold justice.

Beauties always have privileges; Han Lu from Sina and Xie Xiao from *Southern* were the first to ask questions.

"Director Lu, may I ask what your expectations are for *The Missing Gun* at this film festival?"

*The Missing Gun*, like Tian Zhuangzhuang's *Springtime in a Small Town*, was selected for the "Upstream" section.

Lu Chuan cleared his throat with a scholarly air and modestly gestured toward Tian Zhuangzhuang beside him.

"With Mr. Tian's masterpiece before me, how would a junior like me dare to speak of winning awards? I would be very satisfied just to gain the audience's love."

In this day and age, Sina's entertainment section was second to none among portals, and the reporters had high adaptability and professionalism.

There were three crews present in total; seeing the interaction between Lu Chuan and Tian Zhuangzhuang, Han Lu took the initiative to steer the topic toward Lu Kuan.

"Director Lu, you and Director Lu Kuan of *Whiplash* are the two youngest outstanding young directors competing this year. What are your evaluations and expectations for *Whiplash*?"

Lu Chuan was born in 1971, ten years older than Lu Kuan, who was just about to enter school this year; being cited by the reporter like this made him feel somewhat disgusted.

In terms of family background, qualifications, works, and connections, why should a student with no fame be mentioned alongside him as a young director?

He adjusted his glasses with a full display of posture: "Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't seen *Whiplash* yet."

"As for the work of a young student, being able to come to Venice is already quite good. Our country's film industry really needs such young people, haha."

"But as his senior and predecessor, I must offer a word of kind advice."

"One must never be like bamboo shoots in the mountains or reeds on a wall; one should be more humble and eager to learn."

Han Lu didn't know there had been some friction between the two just now, so she was a bit confused by his words.

This wasn't a kind reminder; it was a naked, veiled insult.

Bamboo shoots in the mountains: sharp-tipped, thick-skinned, but hollow inside.

Reeds on the wall: top-heavy, bottom-light, and shallow-rooted.

This was implying that Lu Kuan was fishing for fame and didn't live up to his reputation.

They say scholars belittle each other; Han Lu had truly learned that lesson today.

Lu Kuan crossed his arms, squinting as he watched the "devil" act like a pompous elder before the media, his expression quite playful.

If Zhuang Xu, who knew him well, were here, he would certainly know that this kid was up to no good and was about to discipline someone.

Now, there was Liu Yifei, who understood him.

Having experienced the crew's turmoil, the young girl knew Lu Kuan was far from the type to turn the other cheek or swallow insults.

If you don't believe it, go ask Xie Tingfeng and Chen Guanxi, who paid to buy their freedom, or Zhang Tianshuo, who couldn't even buy his?

A while ago, I heard the procuratorate was preparing to file a public prosecution; the days of singing "Tears of the Iron Window" after being transferred from the detention center to the prison were not far off.

It was just a pity that information was blocked; the "devil," who had been burying his head in the work of *The Missing Gun* for the film festival, didn't know the severity of the problem.

He glanced at Lu Kuan with some self-satisfaction; the scene was extremely awkward.

It was supposed to be crews from across the strait and three regions encouraging and wishing each other well in a temple of art; how did it instantly turn into a mud-slinging contest?

But this didn't stop the reporters from pricking up their ears, shouldering their cameras, and scribbling keywords into their little notebooks.

Tian Zhuangzhuang couldn't watch anymore, thinking to himself that the son of the Lu Tian family was truly incapable of achieving greatness.

Just as he was about to speak to smooth things over, Boss Lu smiled and beat him to it.

"Director Lu is absolutely right, I completely agree."

"Film is an art, and it is also a discipline. Of course, we must be eager to learn, and humility makes one progress."

Suddenly, he changed the subject, looking as if he had remembered something interesting, his inquiring eyes fixed on Lu Chuan.

"Director Lu, I heard that when you were filming *The Missing Gun*, Teacher Jiang was such a 'drama tyrant' that he bullied one of your assistant directors until they cried. Is that true?"

"I think Teacher Jiang is a good teacher; no wonder the 'Jiang flavor' in *The Missing Gun* is so strong. It seems you learned a lot from him, right?"

Lu Chuan was left speechless, his right index finger pointing at the insolent young director, unable to speak for a moment out of sheer indignation.

You! How dare you!

How could the reporters let such news pass? Previously, it was just hearsay, but now that they had the chance to verify it face-to-face, they swarmed forward, throwing out all sorts of sharp questions.

"Director Lu, I heard that the director who cried was you. Is that true?"

"Mr. Wang, I heard Director Lu called you for help at the time. Is that true?"

"Director Lu..."

"Mr. Wang..."

The director and producer of *The Missing Gun* crew were surrounded by long lenses and short cannons, the flashes blinding them with constant clicking.

It seemed the film hadn't become a hit, but these scandalous rumors were about to become popular first.

Liu Yifei giggled and gave Boss Lu a thumbs up.

She envied Lu Kuan's mouth; how could it always spit out so much "ivory"?

Tian Zhuangzhuang was left between laughter and tears; when he heard Lu Kuan say "Director Lu is right," he had thought the kid had changed his ways.

Unexpectedly, in the blink of an eye, a military bayonet was thrust straight into Lu Chuan’s heart, the bloody sight almost too much to bear.

Lu Chuan, oh Lu Chuan, why did you have to go and provoke a reckless hothead like Lu Kuan?

He humbly stated that it was difficult to compete with his senior Tian Zhuangzhuang, while also pointing out that Lu Kuan needed to be more humble and grounded, considering himself to be offering advice to a junior from the perspective of a senior and upperclassman.

He never expected that a moment of loose-lipped arrogance would soon result in a lifetime of face-slapping.

Wang Xiaolei watched Lu Chuan being pressed step-by-step by the reporters and hurriedly pulled him away.

Truly, a scholar is useless; why pick a fight with him? A novice director coming to a film festival—there are plenty of ways to deal with him.

Feng Yuan and Tian Zhuangzhuang looked at each other and smiled, teasing Lu Kuan: "Director Lu, you really are both a man of letters and a man of action!"

"This kid is like a hedgehog; he looks harmless to humans and animals, but anyone who tries to touch him had better be careful about getting their hands pricked and covered in blood."

Boss Lu laughed: "Teacher Tian, you saw it just now; they were the ones who were unreasonable first. He insisted on sticking his face out for me to slap, so I couldn't help it!"

Only Liu Yifei was a bit confused: "Director Lu, the Teacher Jiang you just mentioned, is it Jiang Wen? Why did he react so strongly?"

Actually, come to think of it, the experiences of Lu Kuan and Lu Chuan at this moment were quite similar.

At this time, Lu Chuan, who had brought his debut film *The Missing Gun* to Venice, had just transitioned from a small screenwriter at Beiyingchang to a film director whose work was going abroad for awards, and his father, who was also a screenwriter, hadn't yet been able to exert much influence for him.

This human comedy of Lu Chuan’s rags-to-riches story benefited from the appearance of his benefactor, Jiang Wen.

After *Devils on the Doorstep* was banned in 2000, Jiang Wen, in his boredom, took a liking to this script.

Thus, he pulled in investment, found locations, cast actors, and even got the head of the China Film Group, Han Sanping, to make a cameo as a police chief.

Jiang Wen, well, those who know, know; how could the then-unknown Lu Chuan possibly compete with him?

It is said that after being completely suppressed one time, Lu Chuan tearfully called the investor, Wang Dajun of Huayi Society, and sobbed as he recounted the experience of being bullied.

As the saying goes, hit a man where it hurts, and your winning odds increase by half.

Lu Kuan was really stirring the pot, tearing a piece of flesh right off the currently high-profile Lu Chuan.

Upon hearing this, Liu Yifei laughed so hard she couldn't straighten her back, clutching her stomach and holding onto Lu Kuan’s shoulder.

She fully understood what it meant to take revenge without delay, and what it meant to enjoy life to the fullest while one can.

Getting along with someone like this was truly too satisfying!

Of course, that is on the condition that you are friends with him.

Tian Zhuangzhuang shook his head helplessly, but this was all Lu Chuan’s own doing; Lu Kuan was young and vigorous, so there was no great fault in retaliating like this.

He flipped through the guidebook in his hand, which contained very detailed venue maps and screening information, including movie ticket prices.

"Xiao Lu, I need to head back to the crew first. The screening for *The Drummer* is scheduled for the morning of the 4th, and *Small Town* is in the afternoon of the 4th. Feel free to do as you please for these few days; we'll see each other then."

"Hmm... *The Missing Gun* is also on the morning of the 4th, one session earlier than yours. Let's just go together when the time comes."

"We are all compatriots abroad, after all; we still need to keep up appearances."

Lu Chuan was one thing, but his sharp-tongued father was extremely aggressive; there was an anecdote about him having a three-hundred-round war of words with Han Han on the internet in later years.

Tian Zhuangzhuang was worried that he would get angry with Lu Chuan and create an enemy for no reason.

These days, don't offend a scholar; they are like flies—absolutely disgusting.

"Alright, Teacher Tian, just give me a call if you need anything."

Tian Zhuangzhuang waved his hand and left, thinking to himself that this kid was as stubborn as a mule, and he wouldn't dare to easily trouble him if something came up.

"Xiao Lu, what are we going to do next?"

Lu Kuan glanced at her speechlessly; whenever they weren't in a formal setting with outsiders, and without Liu Xiaoli there to remind her, this young girl usually had the nerve to call him that.

Don't ask; if you ask, it's because he's her savior, so what's wrong with calling him Xiao Lu?

(End of chapter)