Chapter 301: Hearing Thunder in the Silence

Boss Lu had considered that he might need to help Jing Tian get a role, get her into one of his own films, or perhaps a seasonal drama on Travel Satellite TV.

He hadn't expected that she wasn't here for a role, but was here for him personally.

Boss Lu played dumb: "You must be joking. It’s fine if you want to learn directing from me, but wouldn't asking me about acting be like asking a blind man for directions?"

"Director Lu, you are being too modest," Lu Zheng said with a dry laugh.

"Who doesn't know that you and Director Zhang are the best directors in the mainland at coaching actors?"

"Director Zhang won Best Actor at the 1987 Tokyo International Film Festival and the 1988 Golden Rooster, but the Berlin Best Actor you just won carries even more weight."

Lu Zheng suddenly turned to Han Shanping, who was peeling a shrimp: "Chairman Han, say something fair. How can this be called asking a blind man for directions?"

"Haha, you’ve done your homework well, Lu Zheng, you’ve left Director Lu with nowhere to hide."

Han Shanping laughed and egged them on, while Lu Zheng repeatedly said he wouldn't dare.

The young director’s expression remained unchanged; he felt he hadn't owed anyone any favors since that night at the Bazaar Charity Gala, and he didn't want to get dragged into this troublesome affair.

He glanced at Jing Tian, who was sitting quietly to the side, and thought to himself that this girl truly didn't have the fate to become a star.

She was a year younger than Liu Yifei, and though she would later turn the entertainment industry upside down, she would unexpectedly only achieve "late success" through a web drama.

This wasn't a matter of whether it was a big production or a big director.

In the future, even when investors hired Zhang Yimou to direct the 1 billion investment *The Great Wall* to forcefully promote her, it still flopped in a spectacular, earth-shattering way.

Furthermore, her background was complicated; he currently neither coveted her person nor the money behind her, and he had even less motivation to create favorable conditions to vigorously promote her.

Why had he locked in Fan Bingbing and Liu Yifei early in this life? Because they were the "strictly selected" ones, the truths of the entertainment industry proven by time and practice!

They were both actresses who didn't require too much effort to cultivate and could be developed step-by-step; one only needed to guide them according to their own characteristics.

"My guidance for actors is limited to my own films."

Boss Lu still smiled and politely declined: "Whether it's the Central Academy of Drama, the Beijing Film Academy, the Beijing People's Art Theatre, or the National Theatre of China, there are many acting teachers with rich qualifications and experience."

"Jing Tian, you haven't studied acting, have you?"

"Teacher Lu, I have studied dance for many years!" Jing Tian finally managed to interject, hurriedly introducing herself.

The young director said solemnly: "Acting is a very systematic discipline. If you aspire to go further on the path of an actor, I suggest you go to a professional institution to study for four years and build a solid foundation."

As he spoke, he stood up: "Jing Tian, work hard. You are welcome to come for an audition if there is an opportunity in the future."

Boss Lu stood up with a smile, offered two words of encouragement to Da Tiantian, and then turned to Lu Zheng with an apologetic look: "I'm really sorry, I have to go to Yanjiao Primary School with the crew for a charity event this afternoon, so I must excuse myself."

"Chairman Han, I'm leaving now?"

Han Shanping hadn't seen enough of the show yet, so he nodded with some regret: "Let's get together another day."

Lu Zheng was unwilling to let it go and just as he was about to speak to keep him, the old Han sitting next to him gave him a wink.

The worldly-wise Lu Zheng immediately fell silent.

"Tiantian, why don't you go and see Boss Lu off?"

Jing Tian bit her lower lip, feeling somewhat aggrieved.

She wasn't stupid; how could she not know she had just been ruthlessly rejected? But she still managed to force a smile: "Mm, okay!"

Boss Lu glanced at Jing Tian and pushed the door open to leave first.

He was tall with long legs, striding through the corridor like a dragon or a tiger, without the slightest intention of waiting for Jing Tian.

The well-trained waitresses at the Jingcheng Club bowed slightly to greet them while stealing glances at the scene before them; it was simply a prime spot for watching the drama.

The legendary sixth-richest person in China and genius director walked leisurely in front, while the "flower of wealth in the human world," who had been the subject of much hype recently, followed behind with small steps.

It seemed 15 million wasn't enough to catch his eye.

According to the net worth of Boss Lu as calculated by some financial experts, this little beauty would probably need to bring 1.5 billion plus herself to have a chance!

Everyone couldn't help but think of Liu Yifei, who had asked that earth-shattering question at her birthday party two months ago.

These girls were all like moths to a flame.

Boss Lu walked for a while, his peripheral vision catching Jing Tian in her high heels following him step-for-step, and he couldn't tell if she was truly stupid or just pretending.

It was possible she was truly stupid, having been too well-protected since childhood.

If she was pretending, then her level was high, as even he hadn't seen through it.

He suddenly turned around, and Jing Tian slammed on the brakes, her fair forehead bumping into the young director's chest, and two clouds of red quickly rising on her face.

"Teacher Lu, I... I'm sorry."

"Go back. I know this place better than you do; you're going to see me off?"

Jing Tian watched him turn to leave without a hint of attachment, and she couldn't help but reach out to grab the young director's arm.

"Hmm?"

"I... Teacher Lu, can you really not teach me?"

The direct rejection she had anticipated did not come; Jing Tian looked up at him, her fair, pretty face full of expectation.

Boss Lu pondered: "Why do you want to be an actor?"

"Ah?"

"Clearly, you haven't considered this question, and you probably haven't even figured out whether you want to be a star or an actor."

"These are two different concepts."

Three years ago, on the terrace of Anita Mui's residence at Heng'an Pavilion in Xiangjiang, Lu Kuan had asked the same question to Liu Yifei, who was then as delicate as a daisy. (Chapter 87)

She hadn't been able to answer either, but later she proved everything with her actions.

They say one should teach students in accordance with their aptitude; Liu Yifei’s talent for acting was mediocre, and she could only be considered a flawed piece of raw jade.

In her previous life, this flaw was a severe lack of life experience, an inability to feel the ups and downs and emotional fluctuations of ordinary people.

But she could endure loneliness and polishing; once she set her mind on something, she was willing to put in the painstaking effort to carve it out.

In all fairness, Jing Tian, who had better conditions and environment than Liu Yifei, likely lacked such spirit.

The young director didn't bother with any more nonsense: "Alright, you go back."

Jing Tian watched blankly as he walked into the black hole of the elevator, his ruthless back like a solid barrier, blocking all her expectations.

Was she really that unappealing to him?

From August to November, the domestic entertainment industry had been full of explosive news.

Two months ago, Wang Jinhua left, causing a massive earthquake in the entertainment industry, leading to a major reshuffling of entertainment companies.

Immediately following that was the 825 Yifei Incident that shocked the world; the mainland's top young actress sealed her heart and went far away to North America.

Then came the bidding for the opening and closing ceremonies of the Olympic Games, which was closely watched by domestic audiences.

Just as the waves were subsiding, the domestic entertainment industry's topic-generating machine, Boss Lu, was in the headlines again.

An oil painting whose quality was indistinguishable to laymen sold for a sky-high price of 15 million at a charity gala, further involving a top beauty who had never appeared in public.

Boss Lu himself also ranked sixth on this year's Hurun Rich List.

The young director really didn't want to be so high-profile; one only had to look at the final outcome of Boss Huang, who topped the rich list this year, to know why.

It was just that some things insisted on coming to his door.

Therefore, starting from October, Boss Lu had already adopted a policy of "not going out unless it's for charity."

Apart from following the *Aftershock* crew to participate in charity activities around Jingcheng, he put all his energy into perfecting the script for the massacre film.

In 2003, he had once submitted a script outline for project approval in advance.

At that time, the filming date had not been determined, so he submitted the first draft to act according to circumstances.

This was also because the state had issued new regulations in 2003.

All film production units and film and television cultural units holding a "Film Production Permit" (including single-film permits) no longer needed to use a completed script; they only needed to submit a film plot summary of no less than 1,000 words for review.

However, in the subsequent supplementary clauses, it was further stipulated that films of four types of themes, including major revolutionary and historical themes and major theoretical documentary films, still had to undergo preliminary review by provincial departments before being submitted to the General Administration upon approval.

With the project approval imminent, Boss Lu had revised the script several times before it was barely ready for submission.

Such a film, which carried too much emotion and hope, could never be revised to a point of complete satisfaction.

As time entered November and the end of the year approached, the film promotion war for the New Year and Spring Festival slots, which domestic filmmakers were watching closely, also kicked off.

The film *Aftershock* began to appear in building advertisements, print media, billboard advertisements, internet portals, and various online and offline communities.

Following Boss Lu's supreme instructions, the Wenjie system's propaganda tools pulled out all the stops, announcing to the world in a simple and crude way:

*Aftershock* is coming!

Among them, Focus Media, a subsidiary of Wenjie Holdings that rang the bell on NASDAQ in the middle of the year, played an even more important role than before.

This was mainly due to the further erosion of market share and expansion of territory brought about by the listing and financing.

In August, Focus Media fought its first battle after listing, acquiring China's largest apartment elevator poster company, Frame Media, for $143 million.

Frame Media had a total of 420,000 media units, with a market share of over 95%, covering 56 key cities and 45 million middle-to-high-end household consumers.

Focus Media combined Frame's elevator poster resources with its own building video media resources, realizing the integration and complementarity of outdoor advertising resources and forming a wider media network.

Since then, Focus had controlled more than 90% of the elevator poster frame share in Chinese residential areas.

According to gossip from a well-known domestic financial reporter:

Jiang Beichun of Focus Media had officially submitted a merger proposal to the parent company, Wenjie Holdings, and the domestic sixth-richest person, Lu Kuan, preparing to open its bloody maw at the cornered Target Media and completely unify the industry.

In the future, in January 2006, Focus would complete this acquisition for $325 million.

In this life, with Wenjie Holdings as a strong backing, the progress would surely only be faster.

The comprehensive coverage of offline advertising allowed urban white-collar workers and residents of high-end residential areas who had the ability to consume 40-80 yuan per movie ticket in this era to be bombarded with advertisements every day.

On the homepage of Wenjie Video, clips of the film's production were played in rotation.

The process of screenwriter Liu Heng visiting survivors and consulting a large amount of historical data to collect true stories and details;

How the crew restored the urban landscape before and after the Tangshan earthquake, from building a realistic Tangshan Old Street to setting up the post-earthquake ruins, showcasing the staff's meticulous design and hard work;

Zhou Xun, Song Jia, and other beautiful actresses acting silly, Boss Lu explaining scenes to Song Jia, and Hu Jun, Wang Baoqiang, and director Lu Kuan rehearsing.

Whether it was positive energy, sentimental, or satisfying the audience's voyeuristic desire for big stars, or even the currently red-hot star director.

In short, the promotional effect of the short videos basically reached expectations, and the carefully selected and edited footage had fully stirred up the curiosity of film fans.

Coupled with the round-robin bombardment from Travel Satellite TV’s "A Date with Luyu," blog network topic marketing, and Douban and other Wenjie-affiliated websites, a host of New Year blockbusters including "The Promise" and "Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles" all felt unprecedented pressure.

Playing for such high stakes this time?

Not only putting a disaster film into the New Year slot but also entering the fray regardless of cost—this doesn't fit your persona as the best businessman among directors, Boss Lu?

Xiaoxitian, the office of Han Shanping of the China Film Group.

Chen Hong said in a depressed tone: "President Han, it would be best if you personally stepped in to have a chat with him, wouldn't it?"

"Both 'Aftershock' and 'The Promise' have investment from China Film; surely these promotional resources can't be kept entirely to yourself, right?"

She was an actress in "The Promise" as well as its producer; for matters that were inconvenient for Chen Kaige to bring up, her status as a woman made communication easier.

For instance, the current grievance directed at Han Shanping, asking him to step in and mediate to get Focus Media to yield some elevator advertising space.

"Chen Hong, this is normal corporate behavior; if you ask me to open my mouth to Lu Kuan, what am I supposed to say?"

The flat-topped man was a bit annoyed by her nagging: "To tell you the truth, Wenjie originally intended to place 'Aftershock' before or after 'The Promise', and it was I who persuaded them otherwise after much talking."

"The market capacity is limited, why must it be so bloody and brutal?"

"China Film’s investment in 'The Promise' is greater than in 'Aftershock', isn't it? Surely you don't fear I’m playing favorites?"

Han Shanping was also an old fox who offended no one, framing Boss Lu’s careful arrangements as the result of his own strenuous persuasion.

"Alright, Chen Hong, say no more."

Chen Kaige, who was smoking on the sofa, had a gloomy expression, though he quickly put on the detached, breezy air of a refined scholar.

"Some people just like to monopolize social resources; let them be."

"We must trust the audience's judgment and the quality of the film; their word-of-mouth is what matters most."

The superior man understands righteousness; the inferior man understands profit.

He couldn't be bothered to talk to Han Shanping about these trivialities, and Chen Kaige had previously declined Chen Hong’s suggestion to invite Lu Kuan to dinner in advance.

How could I go and exchange pleasantries or bow my head to a junior?

If you want to go, you go.

Of course, for this massively expensive masterpiece, Chen Kaige spared no effort in other accessible promotional offensives.

Starting from this year’s Venice Film Festival, "The Promise" began a large-scale promotional offensive.

Appearing in full regalia, yet only offering a fleeting glimpse in the end, it was quite mysterious and whetted the audience's appetite.

But as the release date approached, the pressured Chen Kaige and his wife began to pull out all the stops, frequently attending various events and programs to build hype.

The poet-like temperament he had previously displayed, which stood in contrast to his somewhat overly vulgar promotional stance, also gave many film critics a chance to show off their pens.

Gu Xiaobai: [From the behind-the-scenes footage, we all see Jang Dong-gun has a line in "The Promise" that says, 'Follow me, and you'll have meat to eat.' Apart from Director Lu’s 2003 Hollywood co-production "The Foreigner," the highest box office for a domestic blockbuster previously was only 250 million for Zhang Yimou’s "Hero." For investors, is there really meat to eat by following Director Kaige? I carry my blessings and wait and see.]

Wei Junzi: [Investors have placed a huge bet on Director Chen Kaige; if they don't get to eat meat, it would be simply unimaginable. Therefore, I find it easy to understand why Director Kaige, like a novice with a fresh face, frequently promotes his "The Promise," even at the cost of losing the image of being quite conceited and scholarly in front of the public, turning instead to entertain the masses. Best of luck.]

Even Zhu Dake couldn't stand it anymore; Chen Kaige’s posture made him feel uncomfortable. This serious critic of the literary world felt it wouldn't hurt to take a small shot, while incidentally continuing to ride the coattails of the washing machine.

[Opening the TV these past two days, one can almost always see Director Chen Kaige and his producer-wife Chen Hong talking at length about how good their film is. Some of the self-praise even reached a point that made bystanders blush. Of course, these interviews also inevitably involve the director talking at length about his private life.]

[This is quite baffling. In my impression, Director Kaige was always a serious figure, and when discussing his own works, he was restrained in his praise. Why is he so uncharacteristically high-profile this time, attending various entertainment programs while pushing his "The Promise" so hard, even going so far as to use his life with his wife to create topics?]

[I attribute all of this to the vulgarization of themes and expression in the mainland film scene, the concentration of the film industry chain at the top, and the ongoing monopolization, which leaves Director Chen Kaige no choice but to lower his status.]

[On this road of no return, Director Lu Kuan is the undisputed executioner and death-shouter. If this continues, does Chinese cinema have a future? Enough said.]

Chen Kaige had been pushed to this point by Wenjie’s crazy offensive, so Zhang Weiping of New Picture was naturally already eager to try.

For "Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles," compared to the magical blockbuster "The Promise" and the disaster epic "Aftershock," the only promotional gimmicks he could bring out were Ken Takakura’s swan song at over 70 years old and the ink-wash painting scroll of Eastern father-son affection, which were far too weak.

Even with the name of Old Mouzi, he could not avoid struggling for survival in the cracks between the two blockbusters, "The Promise" and "Aftershock."

He was waiting for an opportunity, an opportunity to hype things up crazily.

Soon, the first opportunity arrived.

In early November, the Beijing Organizing Committee for the Olympic Games officially announced the results of the selection for the October opening and closing ceremony plans through official media such as "Xinwen Lianbo."

After preliminary screening, the Organizing Committee selected 14 plans out of over 400 global submissions to participate in the first round of bidding.

In the October bidding, a total of 5 parties were shortlisted, including Zhang Yimou, Lu Kuan, France’s ECA2, the General Political Department Song and Dance Troupe, and the joint team of CCTV and Beijing Olympics.

As a major event that had poured in heart and attention from the halls of government to the common people over these years, Olympic news was undoubtedly a subject of heated discussion.

Some were amazed that Zhang Yimou could still be shortlisted after his terrible performance in the Athens Eight Minutes;

Some were surprised that Boss Lu could still produce a work of a comparable level after such a stunningly brilliant plan was leaked;

Of course, there were also those who, because of Director Chen Kaige’s "kitsch" during this period, went to his blog network account and on-site interviews to find fault and make snide remarks.

On the 13th, at a fan meeting in Jinmen, a reporter’s question made the poet look displeased.

"Jinmen Daily": "Director Chen, among the top three most-watched New Year films this year, both Director Lu and Director Zhang have successfully made it to the second round of Olympic bidding."

"As a famous director with much more seniority and age than Director Lu, where do you think the reason for missing out on this honor lies?"

"Will this make you feel insecure about 'The Promise' competing against these two in the New Year slot?"

Chen Kaige’s expression was unpleasant; although it couldn't be called a public outburst, the rising and falling of his two thick eyebrows showed the resentment in his heart.

"This question is too amateurish. Winning the Olympic plan is the work of the entire team; besides, this has nothing to do with each director’s film."

"Can I take your daily practice diary and grade it as your college entrance exam essay?"

"'The Promise' fears no one. Look at our youthful faces on site, Baizhi and Tingfeng; who among them isn't full of confidence?"

The poet’s words avoided the important and dwelt on the trivial, with a suspicion of changing the subject.

But that breezy, detached demeanor seemed to be full of the elegance of a refined scholar.

But Zhang Weiping would not miss this good opportunity!

He immediately spread soft articles, hyping it up with the gimmick of "Beijing Film Academy brothers, dual Olympic director film New Year showdown!"

Riding the coattails of your 200-million-plus disaster blockbuster, and then riding the Olympic cause that the public couldn't help but discuss these past few years.

And the Beijing Film Academy alumni showdown spanning thirty years of history seemed to sound quite attractive as well.

When asked by reporters about Chen Kaige’s film "The Promise," Zhang Weiping sneered with his big mouth: "Today, we only discuss excellent directors who are qualified to be selected as Olympic chief directors."

This harsh remark, deliberately thrown out, instantly offended the great Director Chen. He naturally wouldn't come forward, so Chen Hong came out as the producer to engage in a war of words; coupled with the connections and influence Chen Kaige had accumulated in the Beijing circle over so many years, the blog network was filled with flashing blades.

With this, Zhang Weiping finished riding Boss Lu’s coattails and then Chen Kaige’s, blowing up the heat for "Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles" without spending a dime.

It is no exaggeration to call him a marketing genius.

On November 20th, the national roadshow for the "Aftershock" crew officially began.

Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, and Shenzhen were naturally the top priorities, followed by the Yangtze River Delta, Central China, and the Rongcheng, Shancheng, and Chang'an areas in the central and western regions.

Led by Boss Lu, the "Aftershock" crew visited one city every two days, conquering cities and territories like cutting melons and vegetables.

Everywhere they went, press conferences, fan meetings, thematic seminars, and standard public welfare activities were constant; the work intensity was extreme, but it also achieved excellent results.

On December 12, 2005, the crew arrived in Jinling, Jiangsu Province, and stayed there that night.

Early the next morning, the entire crew, dressed in dark colors, was carried by a bus from the Jinling Hotel to the Memorial Hall of the Victims in the Nanjing Massacre by Japanese Invaders on Shuiximen Street in Jianye District.

Song Jia, Zhou Xun, Hu Jun, Wang Baoqiang, and others all had solemn expressions as they got off the bus following Director Lu Kuan; everyone had already been informed of the purpose of this trip in advance.

December 13th had not yet been designated as a National Memorial Day at the time.

But around this time every year, there were countless spontaneously arriving citizens and people from all walks of life mourning in deep sorrow.

Citizens holding various yellow and white bouquets were surprised to find these stars from television and the silver screen.

Confined by the special nature of the occasion, seeing the crew members led by the young director with solemn expressions, no one engaged in overly noisy star-chasing behavior.

They were just puzzled as to why the "Aftershock" crew, currently on a roadshow, would suddenly appear here.

At nine o'clock in the morning, two simple and plain long tables were set up at the scene.

The Jinling leader Jiang arrived, shook hands cordially with Boss Lu, and then accepted media interviews and delivered a brief speech.

"Comrades, today, 3,000 people from all walks of life in Jinling and peace-loving friends from home and abroad are holding an international peace rally at the Memorial Hall of the Victims in the Nanjing Massacre by Japanese Invaders to mourn the compatriots who perished 68 years ago."

"At the same time, we are also honored to have invited the internationally renowned director and President of Wenjie Holdings, Mr. Lu Kuan, to announce a major event together."

"Following 'Aftershock,' a mainstream film that fully demonstrates the faith of the people and the strength of the nation."

"The Jinling Municipal Government will provide all necessary support to assist Director Lu’s next film on the subject of the massacre. Below, we invite Director Lu to announce the specific situation."

A burst of heated discussion erupted on the sidelines, and official media reporters collected material in an orderly manner.

Today’s occasion was special; after communication between the two sides, only official media reporters were allowed to enter to interview and take photos, and the process was very short so as not to overshadow the main event or disturb the spirits.

Boss Lu took the microphone: "The weather today is gloomy. Just now, I walked into the memorial hall with a heavy heart and stood quietly in this desolate world, and suddenly I thought of three years ago."

"In 2002, at the Berlin Film Festival, I met a Chinese-American female writer who went to visit the descendants of Rabe, the respected Ms. Zhang Chunru."

"In my conversation with her, I had the idea of making a film about the massacre to face history squarely and comfort the spirits of the ancestors."

"At the same time, only by remembering history can we be vigilant against the dangers of war at all times and cherish peace."

"The subject of this film is special; if everything goes smoothly, it is expected to be released the year after next. Today is just a coincidence, and I am making an announcement to everyone."

"Specific information on investment, filming, and casting will be announced at the official project launch conference. I will not take up any more time today to avoid affecting the solemn peace rally. Thank you."

Boss Lu stood in front of the monument; the lines of the building behind him were cold and solemn, like the tightly furrowed brow of the earth, engraved with endless pain and indignation.

The gray-black walls, shrouded in overcast clouds, exuded a heavy atmosphere, as if the wounds of history could never heal.

He turned up the collar of his long trench coat, took the white chrysanthemums handed to him by Zhou Xun, and bowed slightly to offer flowers to the shadow wall inscribed with the names of the victims.

Captured in the photos of the official media reporters, the young director’s eyes were deep and heavy, his brows locked into a deep ravine, as if telling of his endless sorrow for that period of history.

This photo soon made the headlines.

It should be said that Boss Lu had been in the headlines ever since August, starting from the birthday banquet where Liu Xiao stabbed him.

Media from all sides had both praise and criticism.

"Young director officially announces the subject of his new work, hoping to impact the Berlin Film Festival again."

"The sixth richest director in the mainland digs into history; is it for patriotism or for making a fortune?"

"Genius director touches on a historical masterpiece again after the earthquake; is it art or hype?"

Most official media and print media held an appreciative attitude toward this matter.

They affirmed that such a great director, who could completely make more commercial films to earn money, was willing to spend effort on a heavy historical subject that was thankless and difficult.

However, a considerable portion of the Southern-affiliated media and those formerly affiliated with them voiced different opinions.

This faction of media, led by *Southern Weekly*, advocated for neoliberalism and had praised Lu Kuan many times when he first started to make his mark.

They believed that from *Whiplash* to *Shoplifters*, all were excellent themes that reflected on education, reflected on society, and opposed capital.

But from the moment Boss Lu himself gradually became capital and began to control online public opinion, from the moment he became a designated solicitation unit for the Olympics, and from the moment his *The Curious Case of Benjamin Button* sparked a great patriotic debate.

Some media personnel from the Southern faction gradually began to turn their guns.

Especially with the filming of *Aftershock* this time, he worked closely with the government to sing praises for certain objects they criticized, which caused great dissatisfaction.

The project initiation of the massacre film became the fuse, and for a time, criticism and heated discussions from different angles became rampant.

Titles such as "capitalist who is rich but unkind," "cultural merchant who makes a fortune out of national disasters," and "artistic hooligan skilled at hype" appeared frequently, and the list goes on.

Of course, Boss Lu's fans and netizens with correct values also voluntarily spoke up for him, criticizing these baseless frame-ups and mud-slinging.

Making a fortune out of a national disaster?

He has already pledged all the net profits of *Aftershock* to charity; can you do that?

At the Charity Bazaar night, he was also the entrepreneur and director who spent the most on donations and auctions; this is also solid evidence.

Public opinion was in constant turmoil, and the news of this photo and the massacre film was like a stone thrown into a tranquil lake, attracting attention from all sides.

For example, Zhang Chunru and Liu Yifei in North America both saw it.

Ms. Zhang Chunru solemnly printed out the photo, wrote the date on the back, and tucked it into her diary.

It has been three years, or rather, ten years since she was determined to write the book in 1995.

With such a director who possesses a heart of innocence, the will, and the ability, the angel of justice can find comfort in this heart.

Little Liu's filming in Vancouver was also getting better and better; after nearly two years, not only had the little swordswoman's kung fu reached a higher level, but her dramatic acting had also improved.

She still needed a period of experience and a role to complete the transformation from an ordinary actor to an excellent actor.

As for Liu Yifei herself, she also had high hopes for the role of Zhang Chunru, which is why she spared no effort to spend nearly a year preparing for it.

Let us put aside her private relationship with Boss Lu for now.

She did not refuse to successfully shape such a great character image under the former's strict requirements, which must also be a significant improvement for herself.

She was practicing her original grand ambition step by step, walking with firm steps toward the path of a top-tier actor.

Of course, the small hurricane stirred up by butterfly wings was not without movement; at the end of October, American time, a social software named Twitter was quietly launched.

The website logo was a North American blue robin, and it was officially put into trial operation after one week of internal testing.

In the United States and Silicon Valley, hundreds and thousands of ideas sprout every day, and hundreds of startups are registered every week.

Of course, a large number of ambitious entrepreneurs are also eliminated and die every month, repeating in cycles.

Therefore, no one paid too much attention to this seemingly ordinary social software.

Except for two people and their fans.

One was Stephanie, the author of *Twilight*; Little Liu, as a top blogger on MyTube, exchanged resources with her, letting the latter register and update her own Twitter to attract fan interaction and comments.

The other was Leonardo from the crew; he didn't think much of this new product that couldn't even be found in the website market.

He just assumed Liu Yifei was promoting it for a friend, so he enthusiastically registered an account, chatted a few words in his spare time, and posted his updates from the *The Departed 2* crew.

Little Liu, who was starting a business for the first time, had almost played all the cards in her hand.

Selecting seedlings, digging holes, filling with soil, watering, and maintenance.

Everything else below would be left to time, to see how effective her two axes could be, and whether this young seedling could successfully grow into a money tree or die miserably.

In the mainland, Chen Kaige, a competitor in the same New Year film market, saw the photo, and his mood was not very pleasant.

*The Promise* premieres in two days; what is your purpose in creating such a big news story now to trigger a big discussion and a big debate online?

What is the difference between you, Lu Kuan, and the real hooligan businessman Zhang Weiping?

You are even worse!

You, Lu Kuan, are a hooligan with culture, a hooligan with capital!

For the sake of your own film, you really stop at nothing; your heart is punishable!

In addition to the related parties in North America and the mainland, the news of an international director establishing a massacre-themed film naturally entered the sights of certain organizations.

On December 18, 2005, one week after Lu Kuan announced the news in Jinling, a thin Japanese man entered the country at the Capital International Airport and arrived at the Changfugong Sakura Restaurant on Liangmaqiao East Street.

He walked to the second floor, spoke privately with the respectful manager, and sat alone in a private room.

The Japanese man was named Kasai Yu, the younger brother of the notorious Japanese Tokai Company's "Old Dog Kasai," the latter being a Japanese far-right merchant.

He took out his mobile phone, sighed, and dialed again.

"Hello?"

"Lu-san, I'm very sorry, it's me again, can we talk one more time?"

Beep beep beep beep beep...

There was no sign of discouragement on Kasai Yu's face, as if this was just an expected setback.

Indeed, after learning that this international-level director was going to film a massacre movie, he had already contacted him three times without success.

Whether it was private sponsorship, cross-border business cooperation, or introducing him to the six major resources of Sony and Columbia, all were flatly rejected.

"Knock knock knock!"

"Please come in!"

Kasai Yu smiled and stood up: "Ukebo, haven't seen you for many days!"

The boss of Cheng Tian Entertainment, who had just let the driver send Jiang Yiyan back to the villa, spoke fluent Japanese and shook hands with him familiarly.

Ukebo was his katakana transliteration.

"Kasai-san! It's been four or five years! I'm really happy you could come to Beiping."

"Hehe, I am also very happy, but this trip is actually to bother you with something."

Kasai Yu instructed the waiter to serve the food; his private room was full of local Japanese waiters, so there was no fear of news leaking.

"Please tell me what you need; when I was interning at NEC, I relied on your brother's care!"

Kasai Yu was not in a hurry to express his thoughts directly; he discussed friendship with this mainland businessman who had close ties with Japanese capital, and only then did he tactfully reveal his purpose.

"I recently saw a piece of news saying that the internationally renowned Director Lu is going to film a movie with a historical theme."

"This trip is to see if there is any way through Wu-san to..."

"To stop Director Lu Kuan of your country from filming such a movie."

He even deliberately avoided the three words "the massacre," but how could Wu Kebo not understand his intention?

The boss of Cheng Tian Entertainment Group stopped his cup and chopsticks, his tone cold.

"I am powerless to do this, and besides... is Kasai-san insulting me by saying this!"

"Whether this kind of movie is filmed or not is a personal act; I have no right to interfere, and I will not interfere."

"Do you want me to do something detrimental to the country! How unreasonable!"

Kasai Yu sneered at the hypocritical Wu-san.

If you really had this kind of integrity, you wouldn't have accepted my brother's recommendation in the first place.

It's just that no matter how much he despised him in his heart, he could not ignore the purpose of his trip.

Naturally, it was inconvenient for them to intervene directly in this matter; the association could only achieve its goals indirectly and secretly through certain graspable points in the mainland.

"Not at all! Not at all!" Kasai Yu stood up in horror and bowed hurriedly.

"Wu-san, I have always considered you a person who loves peace and is willing to promote Sino-Japanese exchanges."

"My meaning is that such a movie is not of much benefit to the peaceful development of both sides; please think twice!"

Wu Kebo pondered for a few seconds, picked up his clothes with a cold face, and stood up: "It's useless to say more, goodbye!"

"Wu-san!"

Wu Kebo, who was in front of the sliding door, stopped and turned back to look at Kasai Yu, who had just been respectful and polite; the only bit of humility on that thin face had disappeared.

"Wu-san, the funds from NEC are not so easy to take, right?"

Wu Kebo said sternly: "What do you mean?"

"Wu-san is a smart person, I don't need to say too much; I propose three conditions, and I hope Wu-san can consider them seriously."

"For the distribution of *Red Cliff* in the country, my brother will help you, you can choose from Toho, Toei, and Kadokawa, or distribute it jointly."

"The convenience of the development of Wu-san's company's artists and your family business at home and abroad will be greatly improved; for example, the resources of Sony and Columbia, we can introduce them in the middle."

"Finally, I didn't want to be too blunt, but Wu-san, who has established a foothold in your country with NEC's capital, please don't refuse my request."

"Otherwise, it will be very ugly for everyone! Please!"

Kasai Yu performed another standard 90-degree bow; even though the movement was exaggerated, his meticulously groomed hair was not messy at all.

He used both kindness and force in his words, and his attitude gave Wu Kebo enough of a way out.

He didn't have much room for choice.

As if the previous quarrel was a story that happened in an exotic space, the sound of cups and dishes clinking soon came from the izakaya.

Wu Kebo's mood could not be called very beautiful, but having taken this step back, he could only seek a settlement first.

"Kasai-san, I have my position, please don't make excessive demands; just like the matter you just mentioned, how can I stop it?"

"Hahahaha!"

Kasai Yu laughed: "Wu-san, don't misunderstand, I am not a spy; we just want to prevent some unreasonable things from appearing from a peaceful perspective."

"I guarantee! Everything through the intervention of you and your company will be within a reasonable scope and will not make things difficult for you!"

Wu Kebo's face cleared up slightly upon hearing this: "That's good."

"Wu-san, I did a lot of homework before I came; the association also has quite a few 'sources' here."

"Your company, it seems, is not yet a match for Wenjie Holdings, is it? It’s not even close."

Gexi Xiong looked at Wu Kebo with a smile, guiding him along.

"Hmph! With no heroes in these times, a mere scoundrel has made a name for himself; he just happened to catch a wave of good luck." Wu Kebo set his wine glass down with a measured thud.

"If I had returned to the country two years earlier, he wouldn't have been able to snatch up so many good resources during that period of ignorance."

For instance, the Golden Harvest cinema chain in Xiangjiang; in his view, it was an excellent resource for entering the film industry, and it was a great pity.

"Wu-san, your country often says that haste brings no success, and that one should build up strength before acting. Rest assured, with the support of NEC and the Association in the future, surpassing him will not be difficult!"

Wu Kebo hadn't been out in the world for just one day; he understood the principle that to wear the crown, one must bear its weight.

He knew that these Japanese funds had deep pockets and resources that connected to the West, but such reaping of rewards without sowing would certainly come at a considerable price.

Even now, this boss of one of the "many strong" entertainment companies in the mainland still had a shred of a bottom line.

"Speak plainly, Gexi-san, what do you want me to do?"

Gexi Xiong smiled: "It is like this..."

In an izakaya less than a kilometer away from the Japanese embassy in China, lies and conspiracies of "this and that" were woven together.

Just as Zhang Chunru had once faced every possible obstruction and harassment from the right-wing devils for her writing, this Chinese director, who already enjoyed considerable international fame, had also entered the sights of that scum for the same reason.

Lu Xun wrote in a poem: My thoughts are as vast as the universe; I listen for the thunder in the silence.

This young director with vast thoughts did not know in what manner he would encounter these unexpected thunders from the enemy. (Note 1)

Note 1: The original meaning of "thunder" is the long-suppressed power of the masses in the old society; in the original poem, it is a symbol of progressive power.

(End of chapter)