enjoyebooks Chapter 55 The Judge's Pen Falls First
Chapter 55 The Judge's Pen Falls First
The car doors closed, and the gray window film shut out the noise from outside.
Chen Yan leaned back in the back seat, crushing the crumbs off the fried dough stick packaging with his fingertips.
Zheng Jian, the head of the investigation team, pushed up his glasses and shoved an official letter between the two men. The edges of the paper bumped against the aluminum suitcase, making a soft clattering sound.
"Your signature is on the whistleblower letter. Three million US dollars were transferred through a Hong Kong account within 24 hours. Chen Yan, how do you explain this foreign exchange transaction?"
Chen Yan wiped the oil off his fingertips and folded it neatly.
"Team Leader Zheng, that's an advance payment approved by the Ministry of Justice. The contract is filed with the Beijing Film Academy's Academic Affairs Office; you can retrieve the file."
Zheng Jian scrutinized Chen Yan's face. "Filing is filing, and where the money goes is where it goes. Shen Congzhou reported you for using the film crew to launder money. Until that's investigated, you're not going anywhere."
Chen Yan closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.
The vehicle lurched as it drove over the speed bump.
at the same time.
Wukang Road, Shanghai.
Inside the old red-brick house, the ivy twitched in the cold wind.
Shen Congzhou held a fountain pen and made a cursory stroke on the leaves of the clivia in front of the window.
"Lu Haiming has fallen in Tianjin, and Haiming Film Studio is now a no-man's land."
Sitting on a mahogany chair to the side, Zhou Qiwen straightened the cuffs of his Zhongshan suit and said in a calm tone, "You want to take over? The waters up north are too murky. The ministry's special envoy just arrived. If you try to take over, you'll get bitten to pieces."
Shen Congzhou placed a photocopy on the coffee table; it was Lin Qingqiu's hospital diagnosis certificate.
"I don't want Lu Haiming's land. What I want is 'Thunder'."
Zhou Qiwen glanced at it. "It's just a student's graduation project, is it really necessary?"
"This isn't my graduation project; it's my stepping stone to Venice."
Shen Congzhou lowered his voice, "Chen Yan is doing extreme filming in a cold storage room, and the European film critics have already heard about it. If he gets the Golden Lion without any trouble, the rules of the Shanghai Film Association will become worthless."
Zhou Qiwen paused for a moment, then tapped his fingers lightly on his knee.
"That old man Yan Huaizhong said it's an academic project, so it's difficult for the review team to issue a direct order. What do you want?"
"There is no need for illegal censorship."
Shen Congzhou looked out at the gray, misty street. "All you have to do is sign a risk disclosure statement. I suggest that 'Thunder' supplement its safety filming instructions and, during the investigation, block the film's submission to foreign censorship channels. If you block its export approval, the negatives he has will be nothing but a pile of waste plastic."
Zhou Qiwen stood up and straightened his clothes. "This is normal procedure."
"Yes, the program."
Shen Congzhou moved the potted plant and placed it in a shaded area.
Half an hour later, the red Audi taillights disappeared into the thick fog.
Shen Congzhou returned to his desk and dialed an international number.
On the other end of the phone, Vincent's voice was devoid of emotion.
"Shen, the film is already in the bonded warehouse. Do you want me to stop?"
"Vincent, that was to protect the French side's reputation. Chen Yan is suspected of a criminal case, and if you continue to receive materials, it will be considered as concealing evidence under the law. The Shanghai Association's warning letter has already been sent to your headquarters email address."
A long silence fell over the other side.
"Shen, Chen Yan is a genius, his shots have soul."
"Geniuses don't have to pay off debts, but you do."
Shen Congzhou ended the call and listened to the ticking of the old pendulum clock in the room.
Interrogation room at the guesthouse in Yanjing.
The cool white fluorescent tubes emitted a low-frequency hum.
Chen Yan sat on a peeling wooden chair, while Zheng Jian reviewed the confession that had just been retrieved.
The door was pushed open, and the investigator whispered a few words in his ear.
Zheng Jian, his face grim, slammed a notice from the Shanghai Film Association onto the table.
"Shen Congzhou has spoken out, saying that Lin Qingqiu's injuries are extremely serious and he may be permanently disabled. Chen Yan, is this what you call art?"
Chen Yan leaned back in his chair, his expression calm.
"say!"
Zheng Jian slammed his fist on the table. "There are reporters everywhere outside. You've ruined the actors like this, and you still want to win awards? This is a disgrace to the industry."
Chen Yan raised his eyes, his tone completely calm, "Team Leader Zheng, Lin Qingqiu is in Tianjin. It will only take three hours to send someone to examine her injuries."
"That's the forensic doctor's job. Until then, you'll have to stay here."
The iron gate closed, and the padlock slid into the keyhole.
Chen Yan was the only one left in the room.
He pulled a piece of chocolate from inside his coat, unwrapped the foil, and popped it into his mouth, the bitter taste spreading across his taste buds.
The final scene of "Thunder" flashed through his mind: the bronze bell sinks into the ground, and Lin Qingqiu's mud-covered hand reaches towards the sky.
The composition at that moment was already the final edit in my mind.
It's 11 p.m.
Snowflakes fell on the streets of Yanjing.
Su Wan stood under a lamppost outside the guesthouse, her collar turned up.
Her hands were a little stiff when the call connected.
"Su, this is a huge problem."
Vincent's voice came through the radio waves: "The French Ministry of Justice has ordered that no further copies be received until the dispute is resolved."
Su Wan landed on a thin sheet of ice, and her body swayed slightly.
"That was a frame-up by Shen Congzhou. Lin Qingqiu only suffered minor injuries."
"The Ministry of Justice only looks at the risk letter. Is Chen Yan there? We need him to come forward."
Su Wan looked at the lit window on the second floor. "His phone was confiscated, and he's inside."
"Paris only gives a three-day confirmation period. If you can't get proof of innocence, the prepayment will be frozen and the contract will be void."
After hanging up the phone, Su Wan quickly walked into the public phone booth.
"Professor Yan, they've started writing."
On the other end of the phone, Yan Huaizhong coughed violently. "I know. Zhou Qiwen is using a program to pressure people. I'll take those old professors to the ministry tomorrow. Su Wan, the negatives can't be touched; they're our last resort."
Su Wan stepped out of the phone booth, snowflakes sticking to her forehead.
She flagged down a taxi and turned around to head towards Tianjin.
Inside the interrogation room.
The duty officer was asleep, slumped over his desk.
Chen Yan felt a vibration coming from the inside of his coat.
Only the three core members knew the number of this backup phone.
He turned to the side, using his seat to block the blind spot of the surveillance camera, and pressed the answer button.
"speak."
"Chen, I'm risking my life to contact you."
Vincent's voice was low. "The letter from Shanghai involves a criminal case, and I have been stripped of my management authority."
Chen Yan stared at the shadows moving through the cracks in the wall. "What are the contents of the letter?"
"Violent filming, abuse of actors. The Paris headquarters values its reputation highly, and if this letter is not withdrawn, no one will dare to schedule screenings for 'Thunder'."
Chen Yan drew a straight line in his palm.
"Shen Congzhou doesn't have the authority to issue official letters; that's Zhou Qiwen's private opinion. Vincent, tell Paris that the truth is in my hands. I'll send a copy of the materials over at ten o'clock tomorrow morning."
"What materials?"
"The final piece of the puzzle for the film."
Chen Yan hung up the phone and put it back down.
He walked to the window.
Snowflakes swirled under the streetlights, covering the black car in the yard.
Shen Congzhou's pen fell onto the paper.
But Chen Yan's film has already been put into a tin box.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes slightly closed.
The great bell in my mind rang again, shattering the illusion before my eyes.
Chen Yan is waiting.
Waiting for the first rays of sunlight at 5 a.m. tomorrow.
That was the only exit to Venice.
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