Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 59 The sound of bells drowned out the medical records

Chen Yan's voice echoed in the screening room.

Zhou Hong stood frozen in the aisle, his fingers gripping the leather edge of his briefcase tightly.

"I reserved a seat for Mr. Shen on the red carpet in Venice."

Chen Yan turned off the projector.

The light and shadow on the white curtain disappeared, and the hall fell into a stifling silence.

Director Sun from the project office stood up and looked down at the stack of administrative letters that Chen Yan had torn to pieces.

"Director Chen, was that footage just now part of the entire filming?"

Chen Yan walked around the control panel and stood in front of Director Sun.

"This is the core shot of 'Thunder.' For these five seconds, the crew stayed in a cold storage facility in the southern suburbs for twenty-one days."

Zhou Hong pushed up his glasses, took a step forward, and raised his voice.

"Director Sun, good footage doesn't mean the process was legal. The report we received in Shanghai was filed under a real name, Lin Qingqiu's lumbar spine injury is a fact, and the doctor's diagnosis is still in my bag."

Zhou Hong unzipped his jacket and pulled out a stack of photocopies.

"Violent filming is a bottom line in the film industry. Such illegal content cannot be used as material for academic exchange."

Yan Huaizhong walked to Chen Yan's side and reached out to press down on the stack of medical certificates.

"Attorney Zhou, the teaching building of Beijing Film Academy is not a place for you to handle cases."

Yan Huaizhong took out a red-headed document from the inside pocket of his suit and laid it flat in the center of the conference table.

"This was issued this morning. It's a special project for 'Development of Experimental Film Audiovisual Language,' and the Beijing Film Academy is the organizer, while I am responsible for its management. The project number has already been entered into the ministry's database."

Director Sun took the document and scanned the red stamp on it.

"With this project approved, this is now an academic research topic."

Zhou Hong's face flushed red, and his voice became shrill.

"Approving the project cannot cover up the abuse of actors. We have the medical records!"

Chen Yan waved to the back row.

"Zhang Yuan, the stuff."

Zhang Yuan emerged from the shadows, carrying three thick plastic-covered folders in his arms.

With a "whoosh".

The folder fell to the floor at Zhou Hong's feet.

"Look closely. This is the daily shooting log of the 'Thunder' crew."

Chen Yan opened one of the books and ran his finger across the table.

"November 4th, clock tower construction and testing. Explosives team verifying safe spacing, tester: Wu Gang. On-site doctor: Dr. Li from Peking University Third Hospital."

He turned to the next page with extreme speed.

"On December 2nd, the falling scene was filmed. Lin Qingqiu signed a voluntary filming confirmation form, which included the insurance company's policy number. Oxygen, stretchers, and first-aid supplies were available on set."

Chen Yan looked at Director Sun.

"Lin Qingqiu's injury is a recurrence of an old ailment. Immediately after the accident, the crew carried out a transfer according to the emergency plan. All the video evidence, medical staff sign-in records, including Lin Qingqiu's pre-production medical examination report, are here."

Director Sun bent down and pulled out one of the insurance policies.

"Insurance amount of 500,000?"

"Yes. Guaranteed by the French Ministry of Justice, and insured domestically."

Chen Yan stared at Zhou Hong.

"The medical records issued from Shanghai only contain the conclusion, not the cause. Attorney Zhou, Producer Su is currently calculating the losses incurred due to the filming interruption caused by the false report."

Su Wan walked out from the side, holding a calculator and a stack of contract copies.

"As of 2 p.m. today, due to interference from the Shanghai Film Producers Association, the first payment from the French side was delayed, resulting in default interest and late fees totaling US$42,000."

Su Wan pushed the calculator in front of Zhou Hong.

"How does Mr. Shen plan to settle this score?"

Zhou Hong took a step back, his shoes making a cracking sound as they stepped on the scattered pieces of paper.

"Who can verify the authenticity of these documents?"

"I can prove it."

A hoarse voice came from the back row.

Lin Qingqiu stood up with Su Wan's help.

She took off her heavy down jacket, revealing the silver brace attached to her spine.

She held onto the handrail and slowly walked down the steps.

With each step, the metal support around the spine emitted a faint grinding sound.

Lin Qingqiu stood in front of Zhou Hong.

"The medical records are real. I did go to the hospital. But no one forced me to climb the clock tower."

She brushed her hair aside, revealing a scratch that had just scabbed over.

"Those five seconds were the most human I've ever acted in my life. Shen Congzhou wanted to ruin my character; ask him if he could afford to pay for it."

Zhou Hong looked at Lin Qingqiu's bloodshot eyes, and his lips trembled slightly.

Director Sun closed the folder, and his gaze toward Zhou Hong turned completely cold.

"Go back and tell President Shen. Film administration is for the protection of creators, not for using personal grudges as a tool. This so-called whistleblower report will not be accepted by the ministry."

Director Sun turned to look at Yan Huaizhong.

"Old Yan, for these kinds of experimental projects, we use the ministry's fast track for submission. As long as the technical specifications meet the requirements, we can directly issue an international submission certificate."

Yan Huaizhong nodded and shook hands with Director Sun.

"Thank you. What we need is fairness."

Zhou Hong stood in the center of the screening room, and the people around him began to consciously avoid him.

The briefcase he brought deflated, and the so-called "evidence" became worthless.

As Zhang Yuan passed by Zhou Hong, he deliberately bumped into his shoulder.

"Excuse me. You Shanghai film censors are overreaching; you're bound to break your own skin."

Zhou Hong remained silent.

He bent down to pick up his briefcase from the ground and walked awkwardly toward the side door.

When the door was opened, the students watching outside burst into laughter.

Chen Yan didn't look at him, and sat back down at the control panel.

Director Sun walked over and patted Chen Yan on the shoulder.

"The film is technically sound. But you have to understand, it needs a film license for theatrical release in China. Although the ministry supports academic experiments, Shanghai still has a veto power over the final administrative approval. They manage the local review process."

"I know."

Chen Yan pressed a switch.

The hand that reached out of the mud reappeared on the screen.

"Shen Congzhou can't stop me. As long as Venice sees this sample footage, they'll send out a formal invitation. At that point, the administrative process will become a secondary issue."

Director Sun hesitated for a moment, then sighed and left with his entourage.

Only the core members of the film crew remained in the screening room.

Yan Huaizhong looked at Chen Yan, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

"Chen Yan, you're walking a tightrope."

"Teacher, in this circle, if you don't walk a tightrope, you can only kneel and beg for food. Shen Congzhou wouldn't let me into Shanghai, so I smashed the Venice trophy into his office."

Chen Yan took out his phone and pulled up the text message sent by Zhang Yuan.

"Where is the film?"

Zhang Yuan answered immediately.

"The film negatives are already on the ship to Hong Kong. Vincent is making contact there, and they'll be airlifted directly to Paris. Three days later, the negatives will be in the film festival's secret screening room."

Su Wan walked over and handed Chen Yan a signed waiver.

"The legal team from Shanghai has withdrawn. But there are still some problems with Sister Lin at the hospital."

Chen Yan looked at Lin Qingqiu.

Lin Qingqiu was staring at his muddy reflection on the screen.

"Can I go to Venice?"

She asked softly.

Chen Yan nodded.

"You have to go. Even if you have to walk that red carpet in a wheelchair."

Lin Qingqiu smiled; it was the first time she had smiled since joining the group.

"Okay. Then I'll practice how to pose in a wheelchair."

The crew began dismantling the projection equipment.

Chen Yan walked out of the laboratory building.

Dusk comes very quickly in the north, and the sky takes on a thick, leaden gray hue.

A gust of wind crept into my collar, bringing a bone-chilling cold.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

Chen Yan took out his phone, and the sender on the screen was Shen Congzhou.

[Director Chen, the preview screening was a great success. But remember, the official film certification for Chinese films still exists in Shanghai. Without that certification, even if you win the Golden Lion, no one in China will dare to screen your film. See you in Venice.]

Chen Yan turned off her phone screen.

He looked at the row of sycamore trees at the end of the playground, their branches bare, disappearing into the gray clouds.

He casually stuffed his phone back into his pocket and walked towards the parking lot.

Wu Gang had already started the bread truck, and thick white smoke was billowing from the exhaust pipe.

Chen Yan opened the car door and sat in the passenger seat.

"Angkor, to the photo lab."

The wheels rolled over the dead leaves on the road, making a dense cracking sound.

Chen Yan looked at the rearview mirror.

Zhou Hong's gray Audi slowly drove out of the school gate and disappeared around the corner of the street.

Chen Yan closed his eyes.

What kept replaying in his mind was not the hand reaching for the sky, but the deafening roar of the clock tower collapsing completely.

That sound had already resounded once in the future.

This time.

It will shatter the entire Shanghai Bund.

The bread cart weaves through the traffic, and the neon lights outside the window gradually illuminate.

Chen Yan tapped his fingers lightly on his knees with a very steady rhythm.

He is waiting.

Waiting for that transoceanic phone call from Venice.

And wait for the moment Shen Congzhou falls off that armchair.

"Director Chen, there's a car following us."

Wu Gang stared at the rearview mirror, his voice steady.

Chen Yan did not open his eyes.

"Don't worry about it. Let them follow. They can't get into the place we're going."

The van accelerated suddenly and merged into the highway entrance leading to the suburbs.

The lights behind were stretched into a thin white line, eventually disappearing into the northern night.

Chen Yan gripped the briefcase in his arms tightly.

Inside were all of Lin Qingqiu's original medical examination reports; they were his shield.

And that sample footage had already been flown to Europe.

It is his sharpest sword.

The wind howled outside the car window.

In the darkness, Chen Yan silently exhaled a smoke ring.

This game of chess.

The move has just been made.