enjoyebooks Chapter 209 The Blade That Breaks the Game, Old Files of Old Factory Street
Chapter 209 The Blade That Breaks the Game, Old Files of Old Factory Street
BJ, Beijing Capital International Airport.
A Boeing 747 passenger plane emerged from the clouds and landed smoothly.
As Chen Yan walked out of the VIP channel, a flurry of flashes went off, illuminating the arrival hall with a blinding white light.
Hundreds of reporters, carrying cameras and microphones, surrounded the exit, creating a dense, steel jungle.
"Director Chen! Is it true that 'The Wandering Earth' received $15 million in overseas rights revenue? Was it a buyout or a revenue-sharing arrangement?"
"Director Chen! Does the honor of being the opening film at Cannes mean that Chinese films have already gone global?"
"Director Chen! I heard your next film, 'Thunder,' was rejected. Was it because you offended Lu Haiming? His 500 million yuan film fund is clearly aimed at you!"
A bespectacled male reporter shoved the microphone to the front, his question piercingly sharp: "Are you returning to China this time to bow down to capital?"
The microphone was practically poking Chen Yan in the face.
Wu Gang walked at the very front. Standing at 1.85 meters tall with a burly physique, he managed to push his way through the crowd with his shoulders.
Su Wan stood protectively to Chen Yan's right, a professional smile on her face, using fluent, official language to deflect any pointless questions.
"Thank you for your concern. Please stay tuned to China Film Group's official press conference for further updates."
Anya, wearing large sunglasses, followed closely behind Chen Yan.
This was the first time she had faced such a frenzied media frenzy. The flashes of light hurt her eyes, and all she could hear was frenzied Chinese that she couldn't understand.
She gripped the edge of her handbag tightly, her palms sweaty.
Is this what he meant by the world of fame and fortune?
They are even more ferocious than the beasts in the arena.
Chen Yan suddenly stopped.
When he stopped, the entire team stopped.
The noisy arrival hall fell silent briefly as all the reporters held their breath and pointed their cameras at him.
Chen Yan didn't look at the reporter who had just asked the question; his gaze swept across every camera lens in front of him.
"The Wandering Earth is just an attempt at industrializing Chinese films; it's too early to talk about it going global."
His voice cut through the noisy crowd and clearly reached everyone's ears.
"As for 'Thunder'..."
Chen Yan's gaze fell on the face of the male reporter who had asked him if he should bow his head.
"If a film that explores reality has difficulty even getting approved, it doesn't mean there's a problem with the script; it just means that it touches on some people's most feared and most wanted-to-cover-up old grievances."
"I will not change the script, not a single word."
"Not only will 'Thunder' be filmed, but it will also be shown in Venice and at film festivals all over the world."
"Those who try to blind the audience with money and silence creators with capital will eventually be crushed by the wheels of time."
These words, though not named, struck Lu Haiming of Tianjin squarely across hundreds of kilometers.
The reporters were absolutely thrilled.
The sound of camera shutters clicking filled the air; everyone realized that tomorrow's front page headline was in, and it was going to be explosive.
Chen Yan ignored the uproar from the media and turned to continue walking towards the exit.
The reporters tried to follow, but were stopped by Wu Gang and airport security.
The black car from China Film Group was already waiting by the roadside.
The car door closed, shutting out all the noise and flashing lights.
The car was so quiet you could hear a few people breathing.
"Go straight to Beijing Film Academy."
Chen Yan said to the driver.
He took off his coat, rubbed his temples, and turned to look at Su Wan.
"Contact Liang Qinian and have him bring those things to Principal Yan's office to see me."
Su Wan nodded, didn't ask any more questions, and took out her phone to dial the Tianjin number that had been dormant for a long time.
Anya sat in the corner, watching the street scene rushing past the window, and then looked at the man beside her.
The domineering aura he exuded at the airport had vanished. He simply leaned back quietly in his seat, but Anya knew that an even greater storm was slowly gathering within him.
Beijing Film Academy, Vice President's Office.
Yan Huaizhong, wearing reading glasses, was reviewing a document about the teaching plan for the second half of the year.
There was a knock on the office door.
"Please come in."
Chen Yan pushed open the door and came in, followed by a man wearing a faded old jacket, with gray hair and a thin build.
The man stood ramrod straight, his gaze hardening as he swept around the office before finally settling on Chen Yan's back.
Liang Qinian, a grassroots police officer at the Laochang Street Police Station in Jinmen.
"Principal Yan."
Chen Yan greeted them and sat down on the sofa without waiting for an invitation.
Yan Huaizhong took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and looked at Liang Qinian: "And who is this?"
"My knife."
Chen Yan answered directly, without beating around the bush.
"Principal Yan, Lu Haiming used a fund of 500 million yuan to bribe the censorship process of the State Administration of Radio and Television."
"The script for 'Thunder' was rejected three times because of its gloomy tone."
"I need the Beijing Film Academy to intervene and, under the guise of academic research, register this project under the academy's name and send it through a special review channel."
Yan Huaizhong frowned.
He picked up the thermos on the table and took a sip of strong tea.
"Chen Yan, you were really in the spotlight in Milan this time."
"Some leaders have praised you by name, but others think you're too arrogant and don't know the rules."
"Lu Haiming has been operating in Tianjin for twenty years, and his political and business relationships are deeply intertwined, forming a vast network."
"It's too risky for you to use a movie to directly challenge his core audience."
Yan Huaizhong placed the thermos back on the table, the bottom of the cup hitting the wooden surface with a dull thud.
"The college can protect you; this is a consensus between me and your teachers."
"But you must give us an absolute reason that can convince everyone."
Chen Yan didn't speak, but turned to look at Liang Qinian.
Liang Qinian stepped forward, took out an oil paper package tied with a rubber band from his pocket, and placed it on the coffee table.
The oil paper package has turned a deep yellow over time, and the edges are worn.
He untied the rubber band and peeled off the oil paper layer by layer.
There was nothing earth-shattering inside, just a few yellowed photos, a neatly folded, incomplete construction supervision report, and a miniature audio tape smaller than a matchbox.
"Principal Yan."
When Liang Qinian spoke, his voice was terribly hoarse, like a rusty saw blade pulling wood.
"Twenty years ago, the Tianjin Clock Tower project collapsed before it was completed, killing seven workers."
"My sister is one of them."
She was only nineteen that year.
Liang Qinian's hand pointed to the supervision report.
"Lu Haiming was the general contractor back then. In order to embezzle project funds, he replaced high-grade cement with inferior cement."
"After the accident, he found two contractors to take the blame."
"The supervising engineer at the time was a recent college graduate who was stuffed with cement by his men and sank into the Haihe River."
"This is a copy of the supervision report that the engineer risked his life to send me before he died."
"The building materials purchase order has Lu Haiming's signature on it."
"The steel bars and cement grades do not meet the national mandatory standards at all."
"This tape is a recording of Lu Haiming threatening that engineer during a phone call."
"I had someone do a voiceprint comparison, and it's him."
Yan Huaizhong's fingers trembled slightly.
He picked up the report; the paper was brittle and yellowed, and every number on it was alarming.
"Why wasn't this evidence submitted sooner?"
Yan Huaizhong's throat felt hoarse.
"I've submitted it."
Liang Qinian gave a wry smile and pointed to the old, centipede-like scar on his forehead.
"The day after I submitted it, I was cornered by three people in the alley after get off work, and a steel pipe smashed directly on my head."
"The file disappeared without a trace at the bureau."
"Lu Haiming's network in Tianjin is too large."
"I'm just a low-level police officer, not even a small fry, I can't bring him down."
Liang Qinian raised his head, his bloodshot eyes looking at Chen Yan.
"Director Chen approached me and said he wanted to make this into a movie so that people all over the world could see it."
"I waited for twenty years, from black hair to white hair."
"I'd give my life to any scum like Lu Haiming as long as he gets shot."
The office fell silent, with only the soft rustling of paper in the wind.
Yan Huaizhong put down the report and leaned heavily back in his chair.
He finally understood why Chen Yan insisted on filming "Thunder".
This is not a movie.
This is a formal complaint letter written on film, twenty years overdue.
Once this film explodes on an international stage like Venice, domestic public opinion will come crashing down. No matter how big the network behind Lu Haiming is, it won't dare to protect a murderer with seven lives on his hands under the world's gaze.
"Chen Yan, you're walking a tightrope. One wrong step and you're doomed."
Yan Huaizhong calmed down after a moment, his tone becoming somber.
"Walking on a tightrope is better than kneeling on the ground."
Chen Yan looked into Yan Huaizhong's eyes.
"Principal Yan, Chinese films need to stand up; they can't rely solely on special effects and box office success."
"Someone has to be willing to expose those festering sores, even if they bleed and ooze pus."
"You taught us in the very first lesson that the camera lens is the director's conscience."
Yan Huaizhong remained silent for a long time, so long that Liang Qinian thought there was no hope.
He stood up, walked to his desk, opened the bottom drawer, and took out a red-headed document stamped with the official seal of the Beijing Film Academy from a pile of files.
He signed his name on the document in a flamboyant style, then picked up the seal on the table and slammed it down forcefully.
The red ink was clearly imprinted on the paper.
"As a key support project for outstanding graduates of the Class of '98 at the Beijing Film Academy, 'Thunder' was submitted directly to the highest level of the State Administration of Radio, Film and Television for approval by the academy."
Yan Huaizhong handed the document to Chen Yan.
"I'll pull some strings."
"Lu Haiming's 500 million yuan can bribe a lowly official, but not the King of Hell."
"Go ahead and film. If anything goes wrong, the school will take responsibility."
Chen Yan took the document; the paper still carried the warmth of the seal.
He turned to Liang Qinian and spoke clearly, each word distinct.
"Uncle Liang, I will take your justice."