Update: Added footnotes. I can’t believe I spent hours on this just to forget the footnotes.
As Geng Bochuan’s voice rang out, the previously dark auditorium was once again illuminated by a spotlight, which shone directly on Ye Zhou.
Seeing his face magnified on the screen, Ye Zhou’s heart sank a little. His eyes were still glistening from Geng Bochuan’s heartfelt words. The sudden magnification of his face was both sweet and sour.
Ye Zhou composed himself and waved to Geng Bochuan on stage, shouting loudly, “You deserve it.”
No matter how skillful the director is, an actor’s lack of commitment would render their efforts ineffective. Rather than saying that the director is training and teaching the actors, it is better to say that the director is just constantly guiding and stimulating the hidden potential and talents in the actors.
A good director can maximize an actor’s innate talent. To judge a director’s caliber, besides their storytelling and filmmaking abilities, one must consider how well they can unlock their actors’ full potential.
Of course, this all hinges on the actors’ willingness to cooperate and commit themselves, allowing their skills to improve. If an actor refuses to put in effort, treating the director’s advice as mere noise, even the most brilliant director cannot mold them into a master.
Geng Bochuan’s acting abilities underwent a qualitative leap, thanks in large part to Ye Zhou’s guidance, but also inseparable from his own hard work. He was like a fine jade, which Ye Zhou merely polished.
His affinity for the role was extraordinarily high, and with Ye Zhou’s guidance, he performed exceptionally throughout, especially during the major scenes towards the end. Geng Bochuan seemed to have completely merged with Cheng Ye, embodying the harmonious relationship between actor and character.
Towards the end, Ye Zhou was concerned that Geng Bochuan had immersed himself too deeply, so he suggested that his agent arrange for a professional psychological evaluation to ensure he could separate himself from the role if needed.
Indeed, it was due to these factors that Geng Bochuan won Best Actor at the Golden Lemon Awards. Although initially surprised, Ye Zhou did not find it outrageous, because Geng Bochuan’s performance in ‘Chasing the Light’ was truly outstanding.
As Ye Zhou said, he deserved it.
Geng Bochuan came down from the stage clutching the trophy and approached Ye Zhou. Several times he tried to express his gratitude, but upon seeing Ye Zhou’s face, he could not contain his surging emotions, his eyes stinging.
The usually outgoing young man now sat beside Ye Zhou like a child, eyes brimming with tears, unable to find the words.
Ye Zhou patted his shoulder, saying, “You don’t need to say anything, I understand.”
“With this award, the road ahead will be a bit easier. Don’t slack off. This trophy is merely the beginning. There is still a long way to go. Countless awards are waiting for you.”
Initially, Geng Bochuan managed to hold back, but upon hearing Ye Zhou’s words, the tears flowed freely.
“I never knew you were so emotional. Aren’t you supposed to be the unrivaled, tough guy? Quick, wipe those tears before someone sees,” Ye Zhou fussed, frantically searching for tissues.
Fortunately, Geng Bochuan had strong self-control. After hastily wiping his face, he regained his composure and firmly told Ye Zhou, “From now on, whenever you call, regardless of my fame or awards, I will come at your command.”
“Hahaha, now you’re sounding like Xiao Duan!” Ye Zhou burst into laughter at the familiar words. “He’s young and new to the industry, but what about you? You’re not that young, either. Don’t you know our crew’s setup? Do you think your Director Ye is short of money?”
As if worried Geng Bochuan might not believe him, Ye Zhou sighed and slowly revealed the issue that had long troubled him: “To be honest…”
“I’ve been wondering how to spend this money faster. I thought making movies was expensive enough, but…” Ye Zhou’s voice took on a tinge of bitterness. “Ah, nevermind, the more I say, the sadder I’ll get.”
This naive boy didn’t realize Ye Zhou was just joking. Thinking Ye Zhou simply didn’t want to take advantage of him, Geng Bochuan immediately patted his chest and earnestly expressed his gratitude again: “Director Ye, I’m serious. Words cannot express how much you’ve helped me. Without you, I might never have made it.”
Geng Bochuan meant every word. Without Ye Zhou, he might never have found his footing or understood what it meant to empathize and immerse himself in a role.
Beginnings are always difficult. Looking around the entertainment industry, countless stars struggle their entire lives without ever truly breaking through. For Geng Bochuan, Ye Zhou was not only a great teacher but also a valuable friend and benefactor.
The most outstanding part of Geng Bochuan’s award-winning performance was the re-shot segment after Xi Yang’s departure. By then, he had fully immersed himself in the role, making the shoot effortless. It’s hard to imagine if he hadn’t re-shot that part, whether this award would still belong to him.
Those nearby who knew the situation found nothing unusual in their interaction. However, after being broadcast on television, a small discussion erupted online, even spawning a misguided cult following.
On the forum dedicated to ‘Chasing the Light,’ an inconspicuous post appeared, sparking heated debate:
GengGengIsLovable: Wah—Director Ye is so doting! I used to dislike the idea of Geng Geng dating, but after seeing his interaction with Director Ye, I suddenly don’t mind if it’s with Director Ye qaq
GonnaRoastYou: Wake up, OP! This is a cult! Following a cult never ends well. And I remember you’re a toxic solo stan1毒唯 (dúwéi) – “poisonous solo fan” These fans may exhibit intense loyalty to their favorite idol/actor while potentially engaging in negative behavior towards other idols/actors or fans they perceive as rivals or threats to their idol’s success., so why are you acting like a CP fan now?
GengGengIsLovable: dbq2对不起 (duì bù qǐ) – I’m sorry, I was just suddenly tempted by shipping! I was wrong, but I don’t want to change 155131551 – cute crying or whining. Interesting fact from Baidu: 1551 Phenomenon: A term originating from NGA forums, particularly the Kantai Collection section, coined by the moderator ywwuyi (pronounced yiwuwuyi or 1551), also known as “Shuang Ge.” “1551” was used to express the idea of embarrassment or losing face. However, due to its phonetic resemblance to the sound of whimpering, it evolved to be used as an expression for cute crying or whining..
LovingChuan’sLittleBun: OP…I was going to scold you, but once I accept this setting, I find it kind of addictive.
StayingUpAllNightLosingHair: Y1S14“有一说一” (yǒu yī shuō yī), which means to speak the truth or to speak reasonably., although it’s cold5“cold” typically refers to a character pairing (CP) that is not mainstream or widely popular, this ship is unexpectedly sweet!!
ChuanSpeaksChuanLanguage: If it wasn’t Director Ye, I would have cursed you out for this nonsense. But since it’s Director Ye…damn, I can’t bring myself to insult it.
LiuLiuLiuLiuLiu6六六溜柳柳 – They’re all Liu but different characters. I cannot find any appropriate translation for this as it doesn’t really makes sense. I’m guessing it’s a play for 666 slang that is used to described something or someone is cool, amazing or awesome.: A tough little pup x a brilliant director. Beneath the pup’s strong exterior hides a fragile heart. Only the director’s discerning eye could elevate him to greatness, eventually winning awards. Repressing his feelings, eyes reddened, he thanks the director – what a beautifully poignant development.
LearnToCooTogether: I’m corrupted, I’m having strange thoughts. I beg for a pair of unsullied eyes that haven’t read this thread.
It’sChuanChuan’sChuan: +1, mmp7mmp 媽賣批 [mā mài pī]- F*ck or WTF? This is a sexist expletive phrase from the Chongqing dialect. It means “Your mom is a prostitute.”, logically I know it’s wrong, but my body’s honest reaction is “I can get behind this!”
BrokeFromBeingAFan: Has everyone in this thread lost their minds? Shipping is one thing, but shamelessly imagining real people like this – have some class?
LingLingLittleAngel: I’m guessing you didn’t watch the Golden Lemon Awards ceremony.
BrokeFromBeingAFan: What does it matter if I watched or not? Can’t fans be sensible? They’re both outstanding people, please don’t speculate about their relationship with such dirty thoughts.
…
This rational fan reappeared around 3 AM, bumping the now-calmed thread back up.
BrokeFromBeingAFan: I watched the awards ceremony. Yeah, my apologies beauties, I take it back – the WheezeChoke8哽咽 (gěng yè) – to choke with emotion / to choke with sobs. CP is sweet!
A deluge of “hahahas” immediately followed this change of heart.
GengGengIsLovable: No worries, beauty! As long as you find it sweet, we’re friends. But what the heck is the “WheezeChoke” CP anyway? xswl haha.
BrokeFromBeingAFan: Wheezing = Geng, Choking = Ye, Geng Ye = WheezeChoke!9They explained it well hahaha
GengGengIsLovable: xswl, you’re so clever, beauty!
If Ye Zhou and Geng Bochuan knew that their ordinary interaction at the awards ceremony had spawned so many CP points, they would probably not know whether to laugh or cry.
But for now, the two were unaware of the newly-minted “WheezeChoke” CP brewing online, focused instead on the upcoming award presentations.
Geng Bochuan’s manager watched the broadcast, feeling elated yet relieved that his decision to allow the re-shoots paid off. If Geng Bochuan hadn’t reshot those scenes, missing out on the award, just imagining that outcome pained him deeply.
As Geng Bochuan’s manager, he was well aware of the actor’s diligent efforts over the years. Geng Bochuan had worked himself to the bone these past two years, desperately seeking a breakthrough. It would be a lie if he said it was not heartbreaking to witness, so seeing his hard work rewarded now was extremely gratifying.
Looking back on rejecting that major production from Director Lu Cheng, he no longer felt regretful. What use was a showy third-lead role? Geng Bochuan needed tangible awards now, not popularity.
With this award under his belt, as Ye Zhou said, many more opportunities would open for Geng Bochuan. The “vase10actors or actresses who are good-looking but have poor acting skills or no significant role in the plot. ” label had been shed, giving him far more choice for future film roles.
After Best Actor was awarded, the higher-profile categories like Best Actress, Supporting Actor/Actress followed.
Once Best Supporting Actress concluded, it was time for the night’s final two heavyweight awards.
“The next award being presented is the Best Director award at the 73rd Golden Lemon Film Festival. Our guest presenter is Sun Qihao, the president of Fanxing Entertainment. Let us welcome Mr. Sun to the stage with a warm round of applause.”
As the guest presenter’s voice echoed, the screen came to life, displaying the names of five films and their respective directors occupying each corner. As the guest announced each film, its title would be enlarged, and after all five were announced, the guest lingered on the final syllable as the five titles rapidly alternated on the screen.
“Congratulations to Director Kong Wei!”
After the guest’s announcement, four of the five nominated titles vanished from the screen, leaving only Kong Wei and his film ‘Frost Blade’ highlighted in golden hues. Captivating clips from the movie occupied the entire screen.
Despite having mentally prepared himself, Assistant Director Meng couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment upon hearing the result. Carefully turning his head, Assistant Director Meng sighed slightly and observed Ye Zhou’s expression, with words of consolation already forming in his mind.
However, when he noticed Ye Zhou enthusiastically clapping and beaming with evident excitement, Assistant Director Meng promptly swallowed his words of reassurance, a sudden urge of exasperation arising within him. He leaned closer and whispered, “It’s Director Kong Wei who won the award, not you. Why are you so excited?”
Ye Zhou appeared perplexed, turning to Assistant Director Meng with a look that seemed to question his sanity. “Because Director Kong is brilliant! Haven’t you seen his work? You should watch it; it’s outstanding.”
“You…” Assistant Director Meng was rendered speechless, clutching his chest in frustration before finally finding his voice again. “When you see someone else receiving an award, don’t you have any particular thoughts?”
“Thoughts? What thoughts?” Ye Zhou’s confusion deepened. He looked Assistant Director Meng up and down. Suddenly, as if a realization dawned upon him, he exclaimed, “Ah, are you hungry? We’ll grab a big meal after this, to celebrate Xiao Geng winning Best Actor!”
Assistant Director Meng’s emotions that had finally calmed down surged again. He reached for his fast-acting heart medication, swallowing a few pills before speaking. “Haven’t you ever thought about winning an award yourself? ‘Chasing the Light’ is your labor of love; a film you poured your heart into. Don’t you want it to be recognized and appreciated?”
Hearing this, Ye Zhou finally understood what he meant. After a moment of silence, he shook his head and spoke slowly, “Lao Meng, I’m the director, and as my assistant director, no one understands this film better than we do. We’re all aware of its strengths and weaknesses.”
“Yes, ‘Chasing the Light’ is indeed a labor of love, but does the quality truly reach the level worthy of an award? You don’t need me to answer that; you already know the truth.”
“It’s alright if it has flaws. We can acknowledge them and make improvements for the next project. Since it didn’t reach an award-worthy level, why should we expect something that isn’t ours? Even if we were lucky enough to win, I wouldn’t feel particularly honored; it would just mean our luck was good enough.”
“I don’t want, nor do I need, an award that relies solely on luck.”
As Ye Zhou spoke, the stage lights reflected in his eyes, casting a captivating glow within his dark irises.
Assistant Director Meng was rendered speechless for a long while. As he gazed at Ye Zhou, caught by the depth in his eyes, he suddenly realized his own thoughts had been misguided.
He assumed Ye Zhou’s indifference towards awards stemmed from a lack of confidence in himself and his work. However, after hearing Ye Zhou’s words and seeing the resolute expression in his eyes, Assistant Director Meng came to his senses.
This wasn’t a lack of confidence. Only someone with immense self-assurance could speak so candidly.
He had to admit that working alongside someone like Ye Zhou was a refreshingly comfortable experience.
After hearing Ye Zhou’s perspective, Assistant Director Meng’s initial uneasiness miraculously dissipated. He no longer fretted over whether they would win an award, instead offering sincere applause to the winners.
Following the Best Director award being presented to Director Kong Wei, the prestigious Best Picture award was also claimed by Director Kong for his film ‘Frost Blade’.
As the sixty-year-old gentleman Director Kong Wei took the stage for the second time, he joked, “Let me start by apologizing to everyone and the organizers. I had only prepared one acceptance speech, which I’ve already delivered. From here on, I’ll be improvising. Please forgive me if I say anything inappropriate.”
“First and foremost, I’m delighted that ‘Frost Blade’ and this old man have gained your recognition. Thank you all for allowing this old man to stand on this stage once again.”
With a slight bow, Director Kong faced the audience and paid his respects.
“However, what truly brings me joy is not winning the award, but rather, standing on this stage today and witnessing the blossoming of a new generation of talented filmmakers.”
“I’ve seen the chivalrous spirit portrayed in Director Zhuang Yisen’s ‘Dragon Vs. Tiger’, the tenacious vitality in the dark corners of Director Ye Zhou’s ‘Chasing the Light’, and…”
“I’ve witnessed an industry brimming with infinite possibilities and robust growth. I won’t be keeping this award; instead, I dedicate it to every director, present or not, who tirelessly strives and struggles for the film industry.”
After Director Kong Wei left the stage, the thunderous applause continued to resound throughout the venue.
Ye Zhou clapped vigorously, his gaze fixed upon the award left on the stage, his eyes burning with determination. Although it didn’t belong to him now, he believed that one day, through his own efforts and creations, he would earn an award of his own.
Despite ‘Chasing the Light’ failing to win Best Picture and Ye Zhou missing out on Best Director, the film’s lead actor, Geng Bochuan, claimed the Best Actor award. Combined with Director Kong Wei’s praise and appreciation during the ceremony’s conclusion, anyone daring to criticize ‘Chasing the Light’ as a terrible film would need immense courage.
The foremost among them, Zheng Xiang, looked ashen upon learning the award results, knowing that he was doomed.
After the dust settled at the award ceremony, even though Zheng Xiang had a million objections in his heart, he dared not provoke the jinx of “Chasing the Light” again. Having just won an award, the already formidable fans empowered by the trophy instantly doubled their combat power. To go courting death and provoke them would be sheer self-destruction.
Zheng Xiang calmed down and reflected on his dispute with Ye Zhou, filled with regret, immense regret. He had no grudge against Ye Zhou, initially only doing it for money. But why did he end up locking horns with Ye Zhou later?
He regretted it so much that his guts turned green. He deeply regretted taking things to such extremes that now, no matter what he said, he would invite ridicule.
The day after the award ceremony, Zheng Xiang opened his Weibo and saw that the comments on his previous post, “Come back to me when you actually win,” had exceeded fifty thousand. He didn’t need to open it to imagine the content.
After considering for the better part of the morning, Zheng Xiang chose to clear his Weibo during the early hours, deciding to play dead for a while, as per his past experience. He prepared to wait for the heat to die down before making other plans.
His experience proved quite reliable. After all, people differed in their perspectives. After seeing him back down, the fans mocked him for a while. Seeing he had indeed backed off with no intention of causing further trouble, they didn’t keep dwelling on it.
After Geng Bochuan won Best Actor at the Golden Lemon Awards, “Chasing the Light” welcomed another wave of viewership. Its box office grew rapidly for several consecutive days, standing out among the films of the same period that had begun to weaken.
As the number of viewers increased, online discussions about the film also grew, along with controversies. It was normal for disagreements to arise when many people participated, no matter the subject.
Overall, such controversies had a positive effect on “Chasing the Light.” Increased discussions and controversies meant greater popularity, audience reach, and soaring box office revenues.
Until the film’s run ended, “Chasing the Light” grossed a total of 960 million at the box office, ranking third among films released during the same period. Although the gap with the top two was considerable, this box office performance far exceeded the expectations of Ye Zhou and the rest of the crew.
After deducting taxes, theater chains’ share, and investor Jingzhe Pictures’ share, Director Ye Zhou received a share of nearly 200 million yuan.
Normally, directors wouldn’t receive such a significant share—a few million at most. Only renowned directors could participate in profit-sharing. Lesser-known directors and actors essentially earned fixed salaries for their work, paid in full without any relation to the box office performance.
However, Ye Zhou’s situation was unique. Initially, after the investor withdrew, Ye Zhou obtained a 10-million-yuan investment from Jingzhe and invested over 10 million himself, making him one of the film’s investors. This allowed him to receive such a substantial share.
Having invested in Xu Cheng’s e-sports team, frantically recruiting talents, and additional investments in “Tears Behind Bars,” he had nearly exhausted the earnings from “A Farce.” Unexpectedly, as soon as he had spent it all, more money poured in.
Ye Zhou gazed at the bank balance notification on his phone, heaving a deep sigh as he buried his head in his arms, unwilling to face this cruel reality.
It was one thing for the family comedy “A Farce” to become a hit, but who could have imagined that “Chasing the Light,” a film with almost zero commercial value, would also make money?
Deep down, Ye Zhou wondered, was money truly that easy to earn these days?
Worrying about it wouldn’t help; it was too distressing.
After thinking about it all morning without finding a solution, Ye Zhou simply gave up and decided to go all out. He would just spend freely on his desires without overthinking and let everything unfold naturally.
With this realization, Ye Zhou experienced an unprecedented sense of relief.
First, he called the project managers of the three projects he invested in, inquiring about their progress, whether they had sufficient funds, and if they needed additional investments.
Although Ye Zhou thought he was speaking tactfully, the three project managers understood their boss’s underlying message:
“I have money again, so hurry up and let me know if anyone needs more—I’ll give as much as needed!”
Having such a supportive boss who fully trusted them filled the project teams with gratitude. Those competing did so with more vigor, and those filming movies did so with greater dedication.
On Xu Cheng’s side, no additional investment was needed. In fact, due to the Chenzhou team’s recent stable performance, two companies approached them, looking to discuss endorsement deals with Chenzhou.
The budget for “Tears Behind Bars” was currently sufficient. However, after Ye Zhou visited their crew and scrutinized their operations, he contributed another 500 million yuan, citing the reason that they couldn’t skimp on the team’s well-being. Only with improved living conditions could everyone work harder, he claimed.
Despite Director He Feiyang and Screenwriter Liu Zhao’s attempts to dissuade him, they ultimately accepted the money, unable to sway Ye Zhou’s determination.
While the previous two projects didn’t require substantial funding, the “Starlight Youth Development Program” talent show had finally reached the stage where investment was needed.
At present, all the auditions for the “Starlight Youth Development Program” have ended. According to Xu Wei, they should now consider partnering with a TV network for scheduled broadcasts.
Additionally, they needed to explore options for livestreaming the show. Xu Wei had been in talks with various livestreaming platforms, but the negotiations were proving difficult due to the stringent demands from the platforms.
“…My discussions with Blueberry Live didn’t go well a few days ago. I’ve recently contacted Orange Live, and we’re planning to negotiate with them.”
Xu Wei’s voice carried a hint of concern, evidently discouraged by the recent setbacks.
After hanging up, Ye Zhou contemplated the situation. If existing livestreaming platforms were unwilling to offer favorable promotion slots, why couldn’t they simply acquire their own platform?
That evening, Ye Zhou shared Xu Wei’s predicament and his idea with Boss Jiang. After a preliminary analysis, Boss Jiang concluded that the plan was feasible with sufficient funding.
The “Starlight Youth Development Program” would be mutually beneficial for both parties involved. Initially, the platform would drive traffic to the talent show, and once the show gained popularity, it would bring a massive audience to the livestreaming platform.
After further researching various livestreaming platforms with Boss Jiang, Ye Zhou called Xu Wei to inquire about her recent negotiations. As expected, she had not reached an agreement, as talent shows were becoming increasingly common. Xu Wei had requested long-term homepage promotion from the outset, which posed too significant a risk for the platforms. No one was willing to take that gamble, as a failed show could result in substantial losses.
Confirming that she had not secured a deal, Ye Zhou calmly proposed his idea:
“Stop negotiating. Let’s just buy our own platform.”
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