Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 151 Blood-stained Red Carpet, Crowning with the Palme d'Or

Searchlight beams sliced ​​through the rain curtain as a Mercedes-Benz was parked at the end of the red carpet.

Rainwater meandered down the black car windows, while long lenses and cameras lined both sides of the red carpet.

The telephoto lens focuses on the center of the red carpet.

Three Hollywood actresses wore floor-length gowns studded with rhinestones, their exposed backs and rhinestones reflecting a dazzling white light under the flashing lights.

The actress on the left deliberately twisted her waist and let her leg stick out from the slit in her skirt, while the actress on the right raised her arms and waved them to the sides.

At the top of the steps, Harvey looked down at the red carpet, and his assistant leaned closer and whispered, "The broadcast van's signal has been cut off."

Harvey nodded: "Have the security guards delay them for five minutes."

The door of the Mercedes-Benz sedan opens.

Thierry opened his black umbrella, and Chen Yan stepped out of the carriage, his leather shoes landing on the soaked red carpet.

Lin Qingqiu got off the bus from the other side.

The flash of the camera briefly stopped.

Lin Qingqiu stepped into the world of fame and fortune not in fancy clothes, but in a dark and rough work uniform.

Oil stains intertwined with large patches of dried, dark red blood on the left shoulder, and rough fibers were exposed at the worn cuffs.

She had a very short buzz cut, and a two-inch-long, scabbed, purplish real wound stretched across her right arm.

French independent photographers were the first to turn their lenses around.

With the telephoto lens aimed at Lin Qingqiu's arm and blood-stained clothes, the shutter clicked rapidly, and a burst of white light filled the air.

More than two hundred shots completely abandoned Hollywood actresses, focusing the aperture entirely on the rough fabric and machine oil stains.

Harvey's choice of actresses resulted in them losing their spotlight and becoming mere background figures on the red carpet.

"Turn around!"

A French photographer shouted in English.

Lin Qingqiu turned around as instructed, and the large area of ​​mud stains on the back of her work clothes faced the camera directly, with the sound of shutters clicking in a continuous line.

A British journalist pushed past security and handed a recording pen to Lin Qingqiu: "Ms. Lin, are the bloodstains on your clothes real?"

Lin Qingqiu ignored him and walked straight ahead.

Chen Yan stepped aside to block the recording pen: "Find the answer in the movie."

The British journalist stepped back half a step and waved to the cameraman: "Follow me!"

The cameraman carried his equipment across the police line, and two French policemen quickly tackled him to the ground, causing the equipment to fall into a puddle and shatter the lens.

Chen Yan and Lin Qingqiu avoided the red carpet area and headed straight for the entrance of the cinema.

French fans on both sides broke through the security line and held up posters featuring Lin Qingqiu wielding a hammer above their heads.

"The Broken Bridge!"

The shouts drowned out the symphony playing in the stadium.

Harvey turned and walked into the hall, his leather shoes stomping heavily on the marble floor.

Chen Yan entered the cinema, followed closely by Su Wan and Zhang Yuan.

Zhang Yuan took off his camera bag: "Harvey's face turned green."

Chen Yan unbuttoned his suit jacket: "Let's go inside."

After passing through the security checkpoint, the interior of the Lumière Theatre comes into view.

The dome chandelier is always lit, and two thousand red velvet chairs are arranged in a tiered pattern.

Chen Yan sat in the seventh row, with Lin Qingqiu on the left and Su Wan on the right.

Harvey sat in the center of the first row, holding a glass of champagne.

The broadcast cameras lit up with red lights, and the Canal+ TV logo appeared on the large screens on both sides of the stage.

Signal restored.

Quentin walked onto the stage in a black suit, stood in front of the microphone, and opened the envelope.

The 71st Cannes International Film Festival.

He spoke, and the audience fell silent.

"Best Actor..."

The awards were announced one by one.

After the Best Director award was presented, Quentin picked up the envelope again.

"Best Actress"

The large screen was divided into four picture-in-picture displays, with Lin Qingqiu's face appearing in the upper left corner.

She wore no makeup, her cheeks still bore the marks from the photoshoot, and the collar of her work clothes was open.

Quentin glanced at the card: "Lin Qingqiu, 'Broken Bridge'."

Applause erupted from the audience, and the independent film distributors in the back rows all stood up and clapped their hands vigorously.

Lin Qingqiu stood up and turned her head to look at Chen Yan.

Chen Yan nodded.

She stepped into the corridor, climbed the steps, and received the golden palm leaf trophy from Quentin.

She walked to the microphone, and the camera zoomed in.

Lin Qingqiu looked at Chen Yan in the seventh row: "Thank you, Chen Yan."

After speaking, she stepped off the stage, returned to her seat in the seventh row, and placed the trophy on her lap.

Harvey took a sip of champagne and placed the glass on the armrest of his chair.

The assistant bent down to remind them, "The broadcast ratings have broken historical records."

Harvey stared at the stage: "Go prepare the press release."

Two hostesses pushed a transparent glass display stand onto the stage, on which was placed the largest Palme d'Or trophy.

Quentin Tarantino didn't take the envelope. He gripped the microphone stand with both hands and looked directly at Harvey in the front row: "Film shouldn't be defined by numbers and dollars. It has the power to shatter arrogance."

He removed the brace: "The Palme d'Or, The Broken Bridge."

Two thousand people stood up and applauded thunderously.

Pierre stood in the back row with his hands raised, and applause echoed throughout the opera house.

Chen Yan stood up, buttoned up his suit jacket, and walked along the red carpet toward the stage.

The spotlight beam followed all the way.

Quentin picked up the Palme d'Or trophy and handed it over.

Chen Yan took it with one hand, the metal branches reflecting the light from the dome.

He stood in front of the microphone and adjusted his height: "The distribution rights of a film do not belong to any conglomerate; they belong to every lit screen."

Chen Yanping looked at the camera lens in front of him, his voice resounding throughout the venue: "Yanying Culture will invest 15 million euros to establish a Sino-European Independent Film Support Fund."

There was a brief silence in the room, followed by even louder applause from the French distributors in the back row.

Jean-Paul stood in the aisle and whistled.

"The fund's first capital injection has been received."

Chen Yan pulled a bank statement from his suit pocket and held it up. The numbers on the statement were simultaneously enlarged on the large screen, and gasps of surprise came from the back row.

"This money will be entrusted to the Independent Film Critics Association without any additional terms."

Chen Yan looked at Harvey's position: "We don't need to revise your script, nor do we need your actors to wear haute couture gowns."

Harvey clenched his fists, grabbed the champagne glass from the armrest, and smashed it to the ground.

The glass shattered, and the wine seeped into the red carpet.

He got up, pushed open the side door, and left.

Chen Yan walked off the stage with the trophy in her hand.

Su Wan took it and carefully placed it into the velvet shockproof box.

The symphony orchestra played again, and the crowd began to disperse.

As Chen Yan headed towards the exit, Su Wan pulled a creased fax from her handbag and handed it to him: "It's from China."

Chen Yan stopped and unfolded it.

The paper was covered with dense tables, with the heading: Summary of First-Day Screening Schedule and Box Office Revenue Sharing for Jinghai Film & Television and Northern Cinemas.

Su Wan pointed to the second line: "The film 'Mist,' invested in by Lu Haiming's remnants, has seen its screening rate drop to three percent."

Chen Yan folded the fax paper: "What's the progress of Jinghai Film and Television's cinema renovation project?"

"The renovation of all eight screening rooms at Tianjin Cinema has been completed."

"Contact Lin Shu-fen and launch a domestic publicity campaign."

Chen Yan walked towards the door, "Use the Golden Palm's press release to cover all the portal websites."

Zhang Yuan slung his camera bag over his shoulder and followed: "Director Chen, what's the next film?"

Chen Yan stopped in front of the glass door; the rain outside had not stopped.

"Make something that will forever shame Lu Haiming."

The automatic doors slid open to both sides, and the white light from the flashlights illuminated the night sky once again.