Chapter 14: Flight to Berlin

On February 4th, Cao Yang and his group departed from the capital, boarding an international flight bound for Berlin.

It had been over three months since the film wrapped, and seeing Li Xiaoran again, Cao Yang furtively observed her. She seemed to have recovered well; at least her greeting was natural.

“Hello, Director Cao. I’m Xiaoran’s agent, Zhang Sumei. Thank you for giving Xiaoran this opportunity. If there’s anything you need going forward, just let me know,” Zhang Sumei said warmly upon meeting Cao Yang. She shook his hand with both of hers and gave a slight bow.

She had never dreamed that the film Li Xiaoran was once urged to turn down would now be selected for the main competition at the Berlin International Film Festival!

She had even heard through unofficial channels that Xiaoran, that naïve girl, had a great chance of winning Best Actress at Berlin.

At first, she simply couldn’t believe her ears. Li Xiaoran? Best Actress at Berlin? It sounded utterly absurd!

It was completely mismatched, really!

After triple-checking, Zhang Sumei confirmed that the film starring Li Xiaoran had indeed been selected for the main competition at the Berlin International Film Festival — not some obscure, low-tier festival.

Zhang Sumei was stunned, amazed, and astonished all at once.

She almost slapped herself at that moment. When Li Xiaoran finished filming, she had difficulty stepping out of character and couldn’t take on new roles for months. Zhang Sumei had even mocked her a bit then. Who would have thought a young student director in her twenties would pull this off?

Thankfully, Li Xiaoran had insisted on not forcing herself into TV dramas back then. Otherwise, missing this chance would haunt her every night.

Zhang Sumei was determined to go to Berlin this time. Li Xiaoran was now her most promising actor, and she couldn’t not pay close attention, accompanying her throughout.

To be blunt, if Li Xiaoran won Best Actress at Berlin, she would instantly become a top-tier leading lady in the domestic industry. Among the so-called “Four Leading Actresses” recently selected before the New Year, how many had won any notable awards?

Nowadays, box office appeal doesn’t really matter because no one has it.

Even the so-called “International Zhang,” to date, hadn’t won a significant award.

So they weren’t competing with those leading ladies. Leading ladies only needed a pretty face, but Li Xiaoran was a consummate artist, both singer and actor.

Who had won Best Actress at the three major European festivals?

Gong Li at Venice, Zhang Manyu at Berlin, and Xiao Fangfang had also won Best Actress at Berlin.

The first two were revered as the “Empress Gong” and “God Zhang,” while Xiao Fangfang was hailed as the queen of queens, the light of Hong Kong, the Rose Princess, and the Oriental Shirley Temple-Dunbar!

What kind of status was that?

Zhang Sumei wasn’t exaggerating. Even if Li Xiaoran missed the Best Actress award, as long as the film won something at Berlin, a press release would elevate her to a near top-tier star, second only to the “Four Leading Actresses.”

Cao Yang understood Zhang Sumei’s flattery and smiled while nodding. “Zhang, you’re too kind. Xiaoran is a good actress. I have high hopes for her.”

Besides Li Xiaoran and Zhang Sumei, Tian Zhuangzhuang was also present. He had connections in Berlin and planned to help Cao Yang. Their relationship had grown quite close.

The Qingying Studio not only sent the film’s producer Cheng Jianye along but also two assistants to handle miscellaneous tasks in Berlin.

Additionally, a translator was specially hired.

The coal boss’s personal assistant, Zhao Tiantian, also came. She had promised to accompany the team to Europe for the awards, and of course, she kept her word.

The coal boss was generous: he didn’t meddle in filming or budgeting but insisted on promoting his assistant. Even so, he didn’t demand the lead role. Where else could one find such an investor?

No wonder, years later, so many in the industry fondly remembered the coal boss—who wouldn’t?

Once on the plane, they unexpectedly ran into acquaintances.

“Brother Tian, long time no see,” someone greeted.

“Xiao Shuai, you’re on this flight too? I haven’t congratulated you yet. You’re doing well. Hope you bring home a big award,” Tian Zhuangzhuang said, patting Wang Xiaoshuai’s shoulder with feeling. The sixth-generation directors were all stepping onto the stage.

Especially since there was a ’98 graduate who should have been seventh generation but squeezed himself into the sixth.

Tian Zhuangzhuang draped an arm around Wang Xiaoshuai’s shoulder and waved to Cao Yang. “Come here, let me introduce you. This is our director Wang Xiaoshuai, class of ’85.”

Then to Wang Xiaoshuai, “This is Cao Yang, director class of ’98, just a junior, a student of Master Situ. He’s my junior apprentice brother, and this is his first feature film, which luckily got into the main competition. The future belongs to you young ones. Look out for each other.”

Cao Yang shook Wang Xiaoshuai’s hand and smiled. “I’ve heard your name for a long time. I really liked your film ‘Extreme Cold.’ At first, I saw the director credited as ‘Anonymous’ and thought it was some great master. Later, I realized it was your work.”

Wang Xiaoshuai twitched the corners of his mouth, a shy, somewhat serious smile. “Hello, I’m Wang Xiaoshuai.”

Since they had just boarded, they didn’t talk much and took their seats.

Cao Yang sat in economy class with the classic 3-4-3 layout, seats quite cramped. Li Xiaoran was on his left, Old Tian on his right, and Wang Xiaoshuai’s group sat three rows ahead.

After a moment, Cao Yang whispered to Old Tian, “Why do I feel Wang Xiaoshuai is a bit cold toward me?”

Old Tian didn’t hesitate and whispered back, “Of course. He’s barely riding the wave of that crooked Jiao Xiongpíng connection, got fast-tracked into the main competition, risking a directing ban. He thought since there’s a school director serving as a judge, winning would be a sure thing. But then out of nowhere comes the school’s golden boy—you’re lucky he’s not giving you attitude.”

Cao Yang was stunned. “His film didn’t pass the review?”

“Rejected.”

“Wait, who’s the school’s golden boy? Why do I feel like they mean me?”

Old Tian scornfully glanced at him but ignored the question. Didn’t Cao Yang know who the school’s golden boy was?

As always, the achievements of graduates bring glory to the school. Achievements of current students bring glory to themselves, the school, and especially the administration.

Cao Yang looked around but didn’t see Da Meiyuan or Xun Ge’er. He wondered if they weren’t attending the festival or just not on this flight.

Normally, even if they were busy filming, they’d take leave to go to Berlin. This was one of Europe’s big three festivals, and attending would boost their prestige. The agencies wouldn’t miss such an opportunity.

In a few years, even without films, many domestic “red carpet stars” would appear at the big three festivals annually.

Would they feel awkward gatecrashing the red carpet?

Ha! This was their livelihood; buying press releases to boost prestige wasn’t awkward—it was dazzling!

On the long flight of over ten hours, whether intentionally or not, Li Xiaoran didn’t speak to Cao Yang.

Yet, she naturally reached over, grabbed his arm, and rested her head on his shoulder, falling asleep.

Asleep...

This put Cao Yang in a tough spot. At first, he felt the warmth and softness of her chest, but over time, his entire arm went from sore to numb, then painful, then numb again, and finally lost all sensation.

After an indeterminate time, Cao Yang couldn’t bear it and tried to gently pull his arm away. Unexpectedly, Li Xiaoran opened her eyes, glared at him, then closed them again and hugged him tighter.

As time passed, Li Xiaoran held onto half of Cao Yang’s arm, resting on his shoulder with eyes open, a hint of sweetness on her face.

Cao Yang tilted his head, snuggled close to her, and fell asleep.

Old Tian snored beside them.

Berlin. They had arrived.