Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 208 The New Queen of Vanity Fair, the Venice Film Festival's Best Actress on the C Stri

Milan, rooftop terrace of the Bulgari Hotel.

A celebratory reception hosted by Fox Searchlight is underway.

The champagne tower stood beneath the crystal chandelier, casting a hazy glow.

Independent filmmakers from Europe, casting directors in Hollywood, and jury members at major film festivals—they move among the glamorous and sophisticated crowd.

A French producer with a Mediterranean-style haircut squeezed in front of Chen Yan, holding a wine glass. His eyes crinkled with laughter as he spoke in heavily accented English: "Director Chen, your 'The Wandering Earth' is truly a masterpiece. I have a story about Napoleon in Egypt, which is also a grand narrative. I think we could have some collaboration opportunities."

Chen Yan clinked glasses with him, took a sip of champagne, and replied in fluent French, "Napoleon's defeat in Russia was also due to the harsh winters in Moscow. In that respect, our protagonist is rather fortunate."

The producer's smile froze at the corners of his mouth; he clearly hadn't grasped the hidden meaning in those words.

Chen Yan is definitely the star of the night.

People with various accents kept approaching him, trying to get a collaboration proposal for the next project from this suddenly emerging Eastern director.

Chen Yan handled the situation flawlessly, deflecting all the mutual flattery and verbal probing.

He knew perfectly well that these crocodiles in the world of fame and fortune only cared about the profits he could bring.

Once he falls from grace, these people will not hesitate to pounce on him and tear him to pieces.

Su Wan, dressed in a dark green evening gown and holding a wine glass, walked up to Chen Yan at the opportune moment and raised her glass to the French producer: "Mr. Michel, Mr. Horton from Fox is looking for you."

After getting rid of yet another opportunist, Su Wan took the opportunity to shield Chen Yan from several overly enthusiastic French actresses.

Her current role is not only that of a producer, but also Chen Yan's full agent in overseas markets.

"Fox has already deposited the first $5 million advance payment into the company's account."

Su Wan walked to the edge of the terrace and stood side by side with Chen Yan, their voices very close.

"President Han also faxed over the news that China Film Group has intervened and all domestic screenings have been arranged, with a 40% screening rate in the first week. This is the highest treatment given to domestic films."

She paused for half a second, then gently pressed the rim of the cup against her palm.

"However, Lu Haiming has made a move."

"explain."

Chen Yan's gaze fell on the endless stream of car lights below, and the champagne glass swayed gently between his fingers.

"He set up a 500 million yuan film fund and started cultivating relationships within it."

Su Wan's tone turned somber. "He wants to block all our subsequent realistic projects during the censorship process. The script for 'Thunder' has already been returned three times by the Film Bureau because its tone is too dark and does not conform to the mainstream of the times."

Chen Yan looked at the golden liquid swirling in the glass, which reflected the bustling night view of Milan.

Lu Haiming became anxious.

The cinema alliance was directly dismantled by its own drastic move.

The overseas market has been ripped open by "The Wandering Earth".

All he can do now is use his connections at the highest level to trap himself in the rules.

"As expected."

Chen Yan placed the wine glass on the cold marble railing. "He's trying to buy his life with money."

"Every word in the script of 'Thunder' was a nail used to nail him to his coffin, so of course he had to struggle desperately."

"Inform President Yan that the official endorsement from Beijing Film Academy should not stop, and the academic seminars should continue to be held to discuss the artistic boundaries of realist themes in the context of the new era."

Chen Yan turned around, his gaze sweeping over the noisy party scene.

"As for the review, once we return with the Cannes trophy, there will naturally be higher-ups who want to talk to us about what the main theme of our times really is."

His gaze passed over the fawning faces, over the tables piled high with ice and seafood, and finally settled on an inconspicuous little stage in the corner.

There was a string quartet playing Vivaldi's "The Four Seasons".

Chen Yan's attention was drawn to the girl playing the violin.

The girl looked to be under twenty years old. She was of mixed Asian and European descent, with striking features and an aggressive profile.

She was wearing a faded black performance outfit, which looked completely out of place in the luxurious surroundings.

What's most striking is the way she looks at people.

It was a wildness that had not yet been tamed by the world of fame and fortune.

Her violin playing was large and even rough, and the sound of the bow rubbing against the strings seemed out of place in the otherwise perfect ensemble.

She didn't care whether the people in the audience were listening; she was just venting.

Her anger, her resentment, her struggle—all of it was transformed into jarring notes through that cheap violin.

The song ended.

The girl put down her violin, picked up a bottle of mineral water at her feet, and took a big gulp.

Water stains trickled down her long neck and into her collar, but she didn't even wipe them away.

Chen Yan walked through the crowd and headed towards that corner.

Su Wan watched his retreating figure but did not follow.

She knew that Chen Yan's eyes, which could see into the souls of actors, had found a new prey.

Chen Yan stopped at the edge of the stage.

The girl was applying rosin to the strings of her violin when she noticed someone approaching. She looked up, her eyes filled with wariness and impatience.

"Your C string is out of tune by half a key."

Chen Yan spoke in English.

The girl frowned and sized up the well-dressed Asian man in front of her.

She knew he was the key figure at tonight's party, and almost everyone was fawning over him, but she wasn't impressed.

"I know."

The girl's voice was hoarse, with a heavy Italian accent, and her fingers instinctively gripped the neck of the violin, hiding the worn-out violin behind her back.

"This violin is rented. The tuning pegs are stripped and it can't lock the sound. If you think it sounds bad, you can go listen to a cello. His violin is a genuine one that costs 30,000 euros."

Her tone was sharp and barbed.

Chen Yan was not angry.

He looked into the girl's eyes, and there was a stubbornness in them that seemed to say, "What's the use of trying?"

He recognized those eyes.

In her past life, three years later, this girl burst onto the scene with a low-budget Italian independent film, winning the Best Newcomer Award at one of the three major European film festivals.

However, she was subsequently blacklisted for refusing a Hollywood mogul's advances.

Ultimately, she became addicted to drugs and died in a cheap apartment on the streets of Rome.

Her name is Anya.

"What's your name?"

Chen Yan asked.

Anya.

The girl took a step back, her vigilance unwavering. "What do you want to do? I'm not going anywhere with you."

Chen Yan pulled a plain black business card from the inside pocket of his suit and handed it to the girl.

The business card had no title, only two Chinese characters embossed in gold and a private phone number.

"I need a female lead for my next movie."

Chen Yan spoke slowly and clearly, each word uttered distinctly.

"A woman who struggles at the bottom of society, living like a weed, and who would drag everyone down to hell for revenge."

"Your violin playing is so bad that I'd like to pay you to shut up."

"But your eyes are worth a Venice Film Festival Best Actress award."

Anya stood there, stunned.

She looked at the business card but didn't reach out to take it.

She thought this was just another one of those rich people's silly tricks.

"Are you kidding me? I'm just a penniless dropout from a music academy, here to play the violin all night for a mere three hundred euros."

Chen Yan's expression remained unchanged.

Before meeting me, Lin Qingqiu was a useless person who had retired due to a back injury and couldn't even afford to pay next month's rent.

As he spoke, his gaze swept across the distant lights of the cocktail party.

"Now, her face is on the poster for the Cannes opening film, and the whole world can see it."

He stepped forward and gently tucked the business card between the C and D strings of the violin.

"Come to the Four Seasons Hotel tomorrow at 2 PM with your passport."

"If you miss it, you'll be here, playing the piano out of tune for the rest of your life."

Chen Yan turned and left without looking at her again, walking back to the brightly lit center of fame and fortune.

Anya stood there, looking down at the business card on the guitar strings.

The black card had a thin, sharp edge that gleamed coldly under the light.

She reached out and gently touched the two Chinese characters she didn't recognize with her fingertips.

She looked up at Chen Yan's back.

Those Hollywood producers who had been so arrogant just moments before made way for him, their faces beaming with humble smiles.

Anya gripped the bow tightly, her knuckles turning blue.

On this rainy Milan night, the doors of Vanity Fair opened a crack for her.

The door leads to either dazzling light or an abyss.

Chen Yan has already returned to Su Wan's side.

"nailed it?"

Su Wan handed him a new glass of champagne.

"She's a shoo-in for the next Venice Film Festival Best Actress award."

Chen Yan took the wine glass and looked in the direction of Tianjin.

Lu Haiming, your time is running out.