Jiang Tingyuan’s sudden change in demeanor left the middle-aged man dumbfounded. He was too shocked to feel afraid, his face filled with astonishment. It was impossible to imagine how someone who had been like the God of Death mere moments ago could soften so completely in just a few seconds.
After hanging up the phone, Jiang Tingyuan’s gentle expression instantly turned cold again. He glanced at the time on his wristwatch, his face showing signs of impatience.
“Did you record everything he just said? Investigate it. I want results by tomorrow. Everyone involved in this matter, regardless of who they are, must apologize to him.”
These words were directed at his secretary. Jiang Tingyuan didn’t specify who “he” was, but did anyone need to guess why their boss had made such a fuss today, or for whom?
Only Mr. Ye could provoke such anger in their boss.
The secretary nodded obediently and replied, “Certainly, sir. Don’t worry.”
“Tomorrow, arrange for Jiang Yu to come here. Once he arrives, you may leave,” Jiang Tingyuan said to the middle-aged man, his tone neutral but his words cruel.
A one-for-one exchange: only when one arrived could the other leave.
This move would shatter the already fragile alliance between the CEO of Summit and Jiang Yu, instantly intensifying the conflict between them.
The CEO of Summit had already witnessed Jiang Tingyuan’s methods. Having once been involved in the underworld himself, he could clearly distinguish between those who could be trifled with and those who couldn’t.
Without a doubt, Jiang Tingyuan fell into the latter category—the extremely dangerous kind.
In matters of life and death, neither Jiang Yu nor the Summit CEO were particularly honorable men. Their alliance was merely one of convenience, and in such times, to ensure their own escape, they would spare no effort in turning on each other.
But that was a matter between the Summit CEO and Jiang Yu.
Ye Zhou remained completely unaware of all this. He continued his daily hustle, even shamelessly leveraging Sang Yu’s introductions to visit many of Director Sang’s old contacts, all in hopes of securing an award for the film.
Among these were critics, as well as legendary figures in directing and acting circles – pillars of the entire industry whose opinions could shake the film world.
Ye Zhou prepared himself for ridicule and accusations of overreaching. He reminded himself that winning awards was crucial, as it was what Director Sang and the entire production team deserved.
As long as there was a glimmer of hope, he’d try, even if it meant enduring mockery.
The first director Sang Yu introduced was an old friend of Director Sang. They had collaborated on many films and shared a deep bond.
This director was slightly older than Director Sang. When the door opened, an elegant, well-dressed elderly man stood before them.
Before Sang Yu could make introductions, the old director waved his hand. His clear eyes, hidden behind glasses, studied Ye Zhou, as if assessing something.
The atmosphere grew awkward. Ye Zhou felt uncomfortable. A less confident young director might have fled under such a piercing gaze.
But not Ye Zhou. He was nervous at first, but he remembered his purpose. His anxiety transformed into openness, a transparency that could be seen through to his core.
It seemed all his thoughts could be read clearly through his eyes, pure and unguarded.
Ye Zhou decided that regardless of whether the old director mocked him, slammed the door in his face, or said something even harsher, it didn’t matter. He just needed to finish introducing the film and make his pitch.
In both his lives, Ye Zhou had heard plenty of harsh words. A few more wouldn’t hurt.
After what felt like an eternity, the old director’s aged but strong voice broke the silence.
“You must be Xiao Yezi1仔 (zǎi/zi) When added to nouns, it typically indicates a diminutive or affectionate form.. Lao Sang often mentioned you. He always praised you to the skies. I was skeptical, but now that I’ve met you, I see that old fool wasn’t exaggerating.”
These words stunned not only Ye Zhou but also Sang Yu, who had been ready to smooth things over.
If Director Sang Huaining was known for his good temper, Director Tang Bo was his polar opposite. Director Tang’s notorious bad temper was matched only by his talent and untouchable status in the industry. In such a position, he had no need to hide his opinions of others.
If someone met his approval, Director Tang’s temper would be much milder. But if someone didn’t or failed to win his favor for various reasons, Director Tang wouldn’t hold back. He’d openly rebuke them, even going so far as to chase them away.
For such a renowned director, earning a kind word or engaging in friendly small talk was extremely rare.
If Director Tang had mocked him, Ye Zhou would’ve been prepared. But this warm welcome left him at a loss.
Fortunately, Director Tang didn’t care about his gaffe and directly extended his hand to invite the person into the room.
Ye Zhou was flattered and accepted the teacup Director Tang offered. After a moment’s hesitation, he admitted honestly, “Director Tang, I’m not very good with tea.”
His frankness amused the old director, who asked curiously, “What do you prefer then?”
“Uh…” Ye Zhou pondered, tilting his head. “Coffee, I suppose.”
Director Tang frowned. “Such a bitter drink? How can that be good?”
“I used to prefer water, but during long shoots, I found it wasn’t effective enough. Coffee helps me stay alert, so I started buying a lot of it.”
Ye Zhou wasn’t trying to gain sympathy. While actors’ hardships are well-known, directors work equally hard. They manage the entire production, and while actors can rest between scenes, directors must remain vigilant whenever cameras are rolling.
Late nights are common. An actor’s mistake can be fixed with an apology and a retake, but a director’s lapse can mar the entire film, risking not just money but reputation.
Directors must also handle actors’ issues. It’s easier with quick learners, but less perceptive actors can be frustrating. You might explain exhaustively, only to find their performance hasn’t improved at all.
Moreover, with hundreds of crew members, departmental issues often end up on the director’s desk when they can’t be resolved elsewhere.
Celebrities receive praise for their hard work after a simple social media post, but directors? Even the most famous can’t escape their behind-the-scenes role. People care about the film’s quality, not the director’s struggles.
Hearing this, Director Tang fell silent. Then, he gently patted Ye Zhou’s shoulder twice.
“Coffee may keep you alert, but excessive consumption isn’t good. Drinking too much will harm your health.”
For some reason, Tang’s concern warmed Ye Zhou’s heart. The feeling of being accepted and cared for was truly wonderful.
“Don’t let those rumors bother you. Anyone with discerning eyes who’s seen your film should know your contribution was no less than others’. Don’t let a few words make you doubt yourself.”
“You’re an excellent director who can endure hardship.”
“I’ve been Lao Sang’s brother for most of our lives. I know his style intimately. While this film bears his traces, it’s even more your creation.”
Ye Zhou was stunned. He opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to speak.
Director Tang smiled, his gaze growing tender, as if looking at a beloved junior. Despite this being their first meeting, there was a familiarity as if they’d known each other for years.
He sighed, “Lao Sang was unfair in this. He knew his health couldn’t handle running a production, yet he insisted on filming and even dragged you into it.”
“No, that’s not true! Please don’t say that,” Ye Zhou protested anxiously. Though brief and stressful, working with Director Sang had been incredibly rewarding.
Ye Zhou never regretted applying for Director Sang’s interview or joining “The Most Beautiful” crew to complete the film with him.
In Ye Zhou’s eyes, though they never had a formal master-apprentice ceremony, he privately considered Director Sang his teacher, mentor, and benefactor.
Seeing Ye Zhou defend Sang Huaining so passionately, Director Tang felt moved. He shook his head with a smile, “Sometimes I truly envy that old guy. Frankly, when he said he wanted to film ‘The Most Beautiful’, even as a long-time friend, I didn’t have much faith in him.”
“Do you know why?”
Ye Zhou first shook his head, then nodded slightly, his voice dropping, “Because of his health, right?”
Director Tang sipped his tea. “That was part of it, but more importantly, I didn’t believe he could find a collaborator who truly understood him in such a short time.”
“Directing a film is inherently a task that requires a director’s independent vision. Each director has unique perspectives on handling plot, storylines, characters, actors, as well as scene layouts, lighting, and visual composition.”
“Differences in opinion lead to conflicts, and conflicts disrupt the balance within the production team. If neither side is willing to compromise, even with a great script, talented actors, and a skilled director, the project is doomed.”
Director Tang gazed at Ye Zhou, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “But you surprised Lao Sang, and you surprised us, his friends as well.”
“Directors need to learn to work together, and-”
“You don’t fight for dominance, yet you don’t meekly hide your ideas. You speak openly about problems and offer suggestions candidly. You seem to have a special talent for filmmaking; you even notice details that Lao Sang himself missed.”
“You might not know this, but Lao Sang privately showed us, his old friends, some of your work. He praised you highly, and his esteem for you only grew over time.”
“He told me more than once how he wished he’d met you years earlier. That way, you’d have had more time to collaborate, exchange ideas, and discuss. The final cut of ‘The Most Beautiful’ would’ve been even more exceptional.”
Recalling his old friend’s words, Director Tang’s eyes reflected nostalgia and a fleeting sadness.
He quickly composed himself and changed the subject, addressing Ye Zhou, “I always thought his praise for you was excessive, but after seeing the final cut of ‘The Most Beautiful,’ I was astonished to realize his assessment wasn’t too high—it was too low.”
“Why does this film evoke such strong feelings of familiarity in those people, making them confidently analyze its details and declare it typical Sang style?”
“Others might not see it, but how could we old-timers miss it?”
“The details, the lighting, the cinematography—none of it is Lao Sang’s work. It’s just a foolish young man desperately trying to preserve his style.”
“To maintain his style, that fool even erased his own artistic fingerprint.”
“In this film, you became him. That’s why the movie achieves such a breathtaking effect.”
“You, my boy… your dedication is truly admirable.”
Ye Zhou had never been praised so openly, especially by a friend of Director Sang. Being acknowledged by him stirred indescribable emotions in Ye Zhou’s heart.
The joy of having someone recognize his efforts, even if only a few, filled him with a sense of being understood. He couldn’t help but feel his eyes grow warm.
Usually, Ye Zhou never shed a tear, even when faced with the harshest insults and mockery. But hearing Director Tang’s words now, he found himself struggling to maintain composure.
Director Tang noticed the surge of emotions in his eyes, fully aware of the immense pressure this young man had endured since Sang Huaining’s passing.
Whenever Director Tang thought Ye Zhou might not overcome a hurdle, he would grit his teeth and repeatedly surpass the old friends’ expectations.
In fact, when Director Sang’s condition worsened, he had already spoken with his old friends. Even months later, Tang Bo vividly recalled Director Sang’s expression and tone as he held his hand and spoke that day, as if it had happened yesterday.
When Tang Bo visited him, Sang Huaining was still lucid but so weak that he needed to rest after speaking longer sentences.
That day, Sang Huaining held his hand and said:
“Lao Tang, you know I’ve always… hated troubling others. I’ve never asked for favors, but now, at the end, there’s still something I can’t let go of.”
“In my current state, I can’t direct any more films. Since I’ve collapsed, the entire burden of the production has fallen on Xiao Yezi’s shoulders. I… can’t help him anymore.”
“If possible, I hope that when he needs help in the future, you can lend him a hand. He’s truly an exceptional kid.”
“The industry is a mess now. While I’m here, I can support him, but once I’m gone, regardless of how the film turns out, people will criticize him.”
“When that time comes, I hope you can stand up for me and speak on his behalf.”
“… Will you?”
Of course. How could he refuse? How could he not agree?
Tang Bo rubbed his eyes and said firmly to Ye Zhou, “I know why you’ve come to me, but what you’re trying to achieve for him, what you’ve done for this film, for him—it’s already more than enough.”
“Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. What you’ve invested, what you’ve accomplished, your constant efforts—don’t rush. Time will provide the answers.”
As they were leaving, Sang Yu went out first. When Ye Zhou was about to depart, Director Tang called out to him.
Ye Zhou was about to turn around when he heard the director’s voice from behind.
“Xiao Yezi, you’re an exceptional director. On Lao Sang’s behalf… thank you.”
After leaving Director Tang’s residence, Ye Zhou visited several of Director Sang’s old friends, introduced by Sang Yu.
This time, Ye Zhou didn’t have any strong agenda. He was like a junior, visiting his teacher’s friends, chatting and exchanging pleasantries.
As Director Tang had mentioned, it seemed Director Sang often praised him to his friends. Throughout the day’s visits, all the old friends he met, despite their different personalities and appearances, greeted him with the same kindness and gentleness as Director Tang.
Are awards important? Yes, they are.
But perhaps, as Director Tang said, he needn’t rush or worry. Those who understand will understand, and time will reveal the answers.
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