Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 26: Nice Without Light

The air inside the Air France cabin was stuffy and stale.

Chen Yan opened his eyes. Outside the porthole, everything was gray and damp.

Su Wan curled up in the seat, her face pale.

She gripped a French-Chinese quick dictionary so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

The long flight made her stomach churn.

"Our 20,000 yuan, when converted to francs, has shrunk considerably."

Her voice was low, anxiety lurking at the end, "When we get there, a bottle of water will cost more than ten yuan."

Chen Yan didn't say anything, but simply pulled down the sunshade to block out the light from the window.

He pulled the rusty film tube from his inner pocket; the cool metallic texture and the uneven rust marks spread little by little across his fingertips.

This is something he owed in his past life, and it's something he's going to collect in this life.

Lin Qingqiu, sitting in the back row, always kept his back straight, like a fully drawn gun.

Sitting curled up for long periods of time caused her lower back to feel tightness and a sharp, needle-like pain.

She simply frowned, reached into her coat, and gently pressed down on that spot.

The pain brought her to her senses.

An Airbus A340 landed at Nice Airport, where the runway was slippery.

A cold wind carrying the smell of fish rushed in from the entrance of the covered bridge.

Zhang Yuan, carrying three heavy equipment bags, stumbled.

"This place is no different from the Tianjin Wharf."

The exit was crowded with people.

A black Mercedes-Benz S-Class sedan silently glided to the most conspicuous spot in the terminal.

Several men in dark suits lined up on either side and opened the car doors.

Lu Haiming's pomp and circumstance.

He was the last to disembark, dressed in a well-tailored Italian handmade suit and wearing sunglasses.

Wang, the comprador, followed behind, carrying a leather suitcase, gesturing wildly at the reception staff.

The two sides collided head-on at the exit, separated by several safety barriers.

Lu Haiming turned his head to the side, his gaze behind his sunglasses sweeping over Chen Yan's wrinkled jacket for only a moment before moving away.

That kind of indifference, where they don't even bother to greet you, is more hurtful than provocation.

Wang, the comprador, turned around, his lips twitching as if he wanted to say something.

But when he met Chen Yan's quiet gaze, he swallowed his words, shook his head, and got into the car.

The Mercedes started, its tires rolling over the puddles, splashing dirty water onto Zhang Yuan's trouser legs.

"Hold!"

Zhang Yuan looked down at his trouser leg, which was soaked, and his anger flared up instantly.

"Alright."

Chen Yan patted him on the shoulder, "Watch where you're going."

A white, used van was parked on the side of the road, its paint peeling off, and the engine emitting an irregular coughing sound, along with the metallic scraping noise.

Lin Shufen jumped out of the passenger seat, her eye bags were heavy and her makeup was a bit smudged.

"This way! Quickly!"

Su Wan struggled to stuff two large suitcases into the trunk.

Chen Yan reached out, but she blocked his hand.

"I'll handle this. You're the director, so keep your hand steady."

She was panting, and beads of sweat appeared on the tip of her nose.

The car smelled strongly of gasoline and mildew.

"There's nothing we can do, prices in Cannes have gone crazy."

Lin Shufen said, "The five-star hotels have long been booked by major American film studios, so we're staying in the old town."

"Su Wan, there's no elevator in the apartment building, so you have to cook for yourself. Thank you for your hard work."

The car drove along Croisette Avenue.

Outside the window are huge GG billboards, elegantly dressed ladies, and media from various countries holding cameras.

Lin Qingqiu stared at the close-up posters of those international film queens, her arrogance and resentment gradually clenching into her fists.

"Chen Yan, where should we put our film?"

She asked.

"Debussy Hall".

Chen Yan leaned back in his chair, eyes closed. "On opening day, the most discerning eyes in the world will be watching that place."

The car turned into a narrow, dark alley. The exterior walls of the buildings were mottled, and bed sheets hanging from clotheslines blocked out much of the sunlight.

The apartment was on the fifth floor, and the stairs were steep and narrow, making the wood creak when you stepped on them.

Su Wan was studying the old-fashioned gas stove in the kitchen. She had bought a discounted baguette from the supermarket, along with two pieces of cheese that were about to expire.

"Let's make do for tonight."

She placed the sliced ​​bread on the chipped plate, her expression slightly apologetic.

Chen Yan took a piece; it was so dry and hard it hurt his teeth.

"Good."

He looked at Zhang Yuan, "Has the equipment been checked?"

"Everything has been checked, the film is fine. This room may be dilapidated, but it's still fairly dry."

Chen Yan stood up and walked to Lin Qingqiu.

The girl was sitting on a small stool, staring blankly at the old posters on the wall.

"Come on, I'll take you somewhere."

The two of them walked downhill for two kilometers without anyone else with them, until they arrived at the main gate of the cinema.

As dusk fell, the red carpet was half laid out, and the massive steps, in the darkening sky, resembled a gaping maw waiting to devour people.

"How are you feeling?"

Chen Yan asked.

"Like an altar."

Lin Qingqiu spoke softly, her face showing a mixture of longing and awe.

"Here, money doesn't matter, and who built the building doesn't matter."

Chen Yan pointed to the empty red carpet, "Just look at that screen. When the lights go out, you are the king here."

Lin Qingqiu took a deep breath, letting the cool air enter her lungs.

"I want to go up."

"We'll get up there."

Back in her apartment, Su Wan was checking accounts by the dim light, her calculator keys flying across the page.

"Chen Yan, there's an envelope."

She looked up, her eyes filled with unease. "I found it in the mailbox; there was no stamp on it."

Chen Yan took it; it was made of heavy cream-colored paper with gold foil embossing on the edges.

Tearing open the seal revealed a dark blue invitation.

The invitation was titled "Hemingway Night," with the subtitle "A Crossover Rendezvous Between Film and Real Estate."

The time is 8 PM tomorrow night.

The location is the Artemis private yacht.

There is also a line of handwritten Chinese in the lower right corner, with delicate handwriting but strong strokes.

"Director Chen, I heard the bread in Nice isn't easy to digest. How about a glass of champagne?"

This is Lu Haiming's handwriting.

Lin Shufen was standing at the doorway, her expression solemn.

"Do you want to go?"

She asked, "Lu Haiming has made contact with several important European publishers. He wants to block your path in your home turf."

Chen Yan did not answer.

He picked up the exquisite invitation, neither tearing it up nor throwing it away.

He simply walked to the table and placed it neatly next to the rusty film reel.

Two things, one shiny and the other rusty, are placed side by side.

"He wasn't trying to block my way."

Chen Yan spoke, his tone steady, "He's afraid of what's in my pocket."

He turned to Su Wan and Zhang Yuan.

"Pass the word: no reception tomorrow. All of us, go to the Debussy Hall at the Palais des Festivals and find the projectionist."

Su Wan was taken aback.

"What are you going to do?"

Chen Yan picked up a piece of dry, hard bread and chewed it slowly, his gaze passing through the narrow window to the yachts with their lights on in the distance.

"Tell him that the color scheme of 'The Night Watch' must follow the color chart we provided, and not a single parameter can be wrong."

"I want to show those Europeans what real Eastern film noir is."

"Lu Haiming likes to drink on the boat, while I prefer to speak through light and shadow in a dark room."

Outside the window, a seagull screeched as it flew past in the wind, its cry piercing the Nice night.