Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 94 Silence Speaks Louder Than Words

Chen Yan stood on the stage.

The beam of light shone on his shoulder, and his shadow on the ground was projected onto the screen.

Two uniformed officers weaved through the commotion of reporters, their leather shoes clicking on the thick red carpet, silencing all sound. The man in the lead stopped in front of Lu Haiming, took an identification document from his jacket pocket, and opened it.

"Lu Haiming, come with us."

Lu Haiming sank into the velvet chair, his right hand gripping the armrest so tightly his nails almost tore through the fabric. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he forced out two words: "What is it?"

"The Tianjin Third Construction Company's accounts from 1995." The uniformed officer closed his badge, turned to the side, and said, "And, your cooperation is needed in the investigation related to three murder cases."

Lu Haiming remained seated, his chest heaving rapidly. All the cameras in the room shifted, countless red dots focusing on his face, forming a net-like pattern.

"I'm a major taxpayer!" Lu Haiming pointed around, his voice rising, "The premiere isn't over yet, you can't take me away!"

"Please cooperate." The uniformed officer's tone remained unchanged as he took a step closer.

Lu Haiming's gaze swept past all the cameras and landed on Chen Yan on the stage. Chen Yan was looking down, his fingers tapping lightly on the metal rod of the microphone, producing a faint, rhythmic sound.

"Mr. Lu, the law doesn't apply to premieres." Chen Yan raised his head, his voice flat.

Lu Haiming's lips moved, but no sound came out. Two uniformed officers grabbed his arms, one on each side. Lu Haiming was lifted up, his toes kicking the back of the chair in front of him, his leather shoes leaving two dark mud streaks on the red carpet.

Wang, the comprador, was standing at the entrance of the passage. Upon seeing this, he immediately shrank back and disappeared into the shadow of the fire door.

"Keep an eye on the back door." Wu Gang's voice came through the walkie-talkie, and two stuntmen guarding the door silently blocked the exit.

Lu Haiming was led away from Hall One, and the door slammed shut behind him with a dull thud.

The reporters looked at each other in bewilderment, and the frequency of their flashes slowed down.

In the first row, Yan Huaizhong stood up, supporting himself on the armrest, and straightened the collar of his Zhongshan suit. He raised his hand and patted it.

The applause was crisp and clear.

He clapped a second time.

At the side door, Lin Shufen stubbed out her cigarette and clasped her hands together. Applause from the front row began to spread, like a torrential downpour, from sparse to dense, eventually flooding the entire theater.

Chen Yan stood in the light, nodded slightly, and then turned and walked down the steps.

"Chen Yan, it's done." Su Wan waited in the audience, her voice low, her knuckles white as she gripped the program booklet.

"The movie hasn't started yet." Chen Yan didn't stop walking.

"The master tapes are ready backstage, waiting for your signal." Su Wan followed him, using her body to block a reporter who was trying to pass her a microphone.

"Director Chen, your accusations against Lu Haiming..."

"Watch the screen," Chen Yan uttered, lifting the thick curtain at the backstage.

The backstage area was dimly lit, with equipment and empty transport containers piled up. Chen Yan walked to the monitor; on the screen, the audience was returning to their seats. The latches on the main door clicked shut, making a metallic clanging sound.

"Is the venue locked?"

"We've fallen. No one but our people will get out," Su Wan replied.

The side door opened, and Wu Gang walked in, bringing a gust of cold wind with him, and threw a black briefcase on the table.

"We caught him. Wang, the comprador, wanted to stuff this into the fire hydrant."

Chen Yan pulled out the document inside, which was printed with a red header: 1991 Film Purchase Contract. The clauses regarding the mandatory transfer of copyright were marked in red.

"Lu Haiming's backup plan was to use a fake contract to seize the distribution rights after the movie finished showing."

"Now we have physical evidence," Wu Gang said.

"Send it over there and give it to those two at the door." Chen Yan stuffed the document back into his bag.

Wu Gang picked up his bag, turned around, and disappeared behind the curtain.

Su Wan stared at the monitor screen; the theater lights were turning off. "Chen Yan, you won the five million dollar bet."

"It's not time to split the profits yet." Chen Yan sat on a wooden stool, his eyes fixed on the screen. "What did Lin Shufen say?"

"The land in Tianjin has been sealed off, and Lu Haiming's funding will be cut off at eight o'clock tomorrow morning."

"That's the bank's business," Chen Yan interrupted her. "We only handle the movies."

In the projection room, the old technician flipped the switch, and the charcoal briquettes hissed as they burned. Chen Yan closed his eyes, and the cheap smell of alcohol he had caught when he was drunk on the street in his past life flashed by, only to be immediately extinguished by him.

He opened his eyes.

In the surveillance footage, the screen changed from gray to black. The theater was deathly silent.

Three seconds later, a powerful beam of light pierced the darkness and struck the screen.

The graininess of the film is visible.

A wide close-up. A face covered in dust, Lin Qingqiu. Her profile is pressed against broken bricks, her pupils reflecting the blazing sun. Her eyelashes flutter, stirring up a wisp of dust.

The audience instinctively leaned back in their chairs. Chen Yan noticed that a film critic in the front row stopped writing.

Lin Qingqiu's gaze pierced through the screen and into the theater. It wasn't acting; it was her physiological instinct after lying in the ruins at forty degrees Celsius for six hours during filming.

The camera pulls back, and a bulldozer roars as it rolls towards her. The subwoofer begins to vibrate, causing the wooden floor beneath Chen Yan's feet to resonate.

"Chen Yan, is this what you wanted?" Su Wan's voice was very soft.

"That's what movies are all about."

On the screen, Lin Qingqiu's fingers dug into the soil, blood seeping from under her nails. The red was unadulterated. She looked up at everyone in the audience.

Chen Yan walked to the observation window of the projection room. More than a thousand heads were neatly arranged, and everyone was captivated by the woman lying in the ruins on the screen.

The premiere begins. Lu Haiming, contracts, real estate, the world of fame and fortune—all are crushed to dust in this scene.

On the screen, Lin Qingqiu opened her mouth and screamed silently.

From the speakers, the rolling thunder was overwhelming.

A flash of lightning, deathly white. The entire audience held their breath.

Chen Yan returned backstage, and Wu Gang's voice came from outside the door: "Chen Yan, Teacher Yan is looking for you."

He stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles in his suit. "Su Wan, keep an eye on the projector."

The corridor was brightly lit. Yan Huaizhong stood at the end, looking at the rain outside the window.

"Teacher Yan."

Yan Huaizhong turned around and patted Chen Yan's shoulder forcefully. "Director Ma from the Film Bureau just called. Lu Haiming's problem is very serious. But whether 'Thunder' can pass the second review is not up to him."

"Then who decides?"

Yan Huaizhong pointed to the tightly closed doors of Hall One: "The two thousand people inside make the decisions. Public opinion has risen; no one dares to suppress your film anymore." He handed over a plain white business card with only one name and phone number on it, "That old minister's. Take it."

Chen Yan accepted the business card. "Thank you, teacher."

"You risked your life for this." Yan Huaizhong looked at Hall One. "Lin Qingqiu's movement, was it a real fall?"

"Yes."

"A madman." Yan Huaizhong said, then turned and walked toward the exit.

Chen Yan put away the business card and returned to the side and back of Hall One. The movie was reaching its climax; Lin Qingqiu stood up from the ruins, clutching broken bricks. Below the screen, a young student covered his mouth, tears sliding down his fingers.

He leaned against the wall and, in the shadows of the back row, saw Lin Qingqiu. She was wearing a military overcoat, standing quietly in the corner, staring at herself on the screen.

Chen Yan walked over.

"Director Chen," Lin Qingqiu said in a low voice without turning around, "I used to think that dying on camera was a joke."

"And now?"

"Now, I see the light." She turned her head, the red marks still visible at the corner of her eye. "The movie's over, where do we go?"

Chen Yan looked out the window, where a faint ray of dawn was breaking through the sky.

"Go to Cannes," Chen Yan said, "and take back what's rightfully yours."

For the first time, Lin Qingqiu's lips curved upwards in a stiff, yet genuine way.

Inside the theater, the background music swelled, and the drums thundered. The screen went black, and white subtitles appeared.

Director: Chen Yan.

The entire hall fell silent. Until the credits finished rolling, in the darkness, someone stood up, and the sound of chairs swaying filled the air. Then came the second row, and the third.

Cheers erupted.

The reporters rushed toward the podium. Chen Yan, however, opened the side door, and Lin Qingqiu followed behind him as the two stepped into the cold air after the rain.

Wu Gang's black Santana was waiting by the roadside. The window rolled down, and he handed over a newly printed newspaper; the headline featured a photo of Lu Haiming getting into his car with his head down.

Title: Aftershocks in the Old City

Chen Yan took it, glanced at it, and casually threw it into the roadside trash can.

"Let's go." He climbed into the passenger seat.

"Where to?" Wu Gang asked.

"Beijing Film Academy Photography Department Lab." Chen Yan fastened his seatbelt and tapped his fingers lightly on his knee.

"The film negatives for the next movie need to be developed."

The car started, its red taillights disappearing at the end of the long street. Inside the cinema, Su Wan stood in front of the empty screen, clutching a discarded piece of film in her hand.

The film shows Chen Yan holding a mirror in profile.

"Chen Yan, this is your rule," she muttered to herself.

A corner of the poster in the cinema lobby fluttered in the wind, and Lin Qingqiu's eyes in the poster were gazing at the city that had just awakened.

Silent, yet powerful.