Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 134 Pinning You to the Screen

Chen Yan pressed the red hang-up button, and the screen backlight went out.

He removed the back cover of the marine satellite phone, pulled out the battery, and then rolled down the car window.

The cold November wind blew back, and he threw the fuselage and battery out of the window in two separate trips.

The plastic casing made a soft, crackling sound as it hit the asphalt road, which was instantly swallowed up by the sound of the wind.

"Gu Changchuan has already paid the penalty for breach of contract and withdrawn from the Guomao venue."

Su Wan closed her laptop, the screen's glow fading from her face. "Our press conference can be moved up."

"Notify the media that Yanying and Jinghai will hold a joint meeting at 10:00 AM tomorrow."

Chen Yan rolled up the car window, cutting off the wind noise, and the car returned to silence.

He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and said, "Have Wu Gang take men to clear the area, and raise security to the highest level. Gu Changchuan is a gambler who's lost everything; he's capable of anything."

Su Wan nodded and turned on her computer again: "The script has been submitted for review, and Principal Yan personally stamped it. We should be able to get the project approval document for 'Broken Bridge' tomorrow morning."

Where is Lin Qingqiu?

Chen Yan asked.

"Landing at midnight tonight."

"Zhang Yuan went to pick her up and took her directly to the Guomao Hotel so she could rest."

The following morning, in the VIP lounge on the third floor of the China World Hotel.

Zhang Haifeng's hand holding the coffee cup was a little unsteady.

He looked at Chen Yan, who was standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, leaving him only with the back of his black suit.

"Director Chen, the subject matter of 'Broken Bridge' is... too hard."

Zhang Haifeng's voice was dry. "The Jing-Tong Expressway project case in 1995 involved so many things that were suppressed back then, and it affected a wide range of people. Jinghai has just recovered from that, and now to touch this rock is not just risky, it's playing with fire."

Chen Yan turned around, the light outlining his hard jawline.

"Mr. Zhang, there is currently 50 million in cash in Jinghai's account, which was transferred by Yan Ying."

He walked to the sofa, calmly looking at Zhang Haifeng. "I've also finalized the overseas distribution rights for 'Broken Bridge,' a guaranteed 30 million US dollars. This stone," Chen Yan tapped lightly on the coffee table, "I'll smash it; Jinghai will just take their share."

Zhang Haifeng looked into Chen Yan's eyes, where there was no room for negotiation, only the announcement.

He silently put down his coffee cup and picked up a tissue to wipe his hands.

"The press conference will start in ten minutes."

Zhang Haifeng stood up. "I'll go on stage with you."

Inside the banquet hall, flashbulbs were going off frequently, and the air was stuffy.

Chen Yan sat in the center of the long table, with Su Wan and Zhang Haifeng sitting on his left and right respectively.

Below the stage, hundreds of reporters completely blocked the passageway.

Twelve security personnel in black suits were scattered around the venue. Wu Gang stood in the shadows of the side door, his gaze sweeping over each reporter in the front row who had raised a recording pen.

A reporter wearing black-rimmed glasses stood up first: "Director Chen, yesterday Director Zhao Ming accused you of exploiting newcomers, and the Jinghai acquisition case is also suspected of malicious competition. What is your response to the suspension of production of 'The Mist' due to copyright infringement?"

All the cameras were pointed at Chen Yan.

He crossed his arms, leaned forward slightly, and brought the microphone closer.

"Today, I will only announce one thing."

Chen Yan stood up, pushed back his chair, and turned to face the giant LCD screen behind the stage.

Su Wan pressed the remote control, and the screen lit up.

A huge poster took up everyone's field of vision.

On a gloomy, rainy day, an unfinished viaduct broke in half, its rusted steel bars pointing towards the sky.

At the base of the broken bridge pier, a section of stark white bone was faintly visible through the gaps in the cement fragments.

In the center of the poster are two bold, blood-red characters: **Broken Bridge**.

Director: Chen Yan.

A suppressed buzzing sound rose from the audience.

Chen Yan turned around, placed his hands on the podium, and looked through countless cameras.

"The Broken Bridge is a joint production of Yanying Culture and Jinghai Film and Television, with an investment of 50 million yuan."

His voice resounded throughout the venue through the speakers: "A film based on a true story. The story is based on the collapse of the third section of the Jing-Tong Expressway in 1995, and the murder case buried under cement behind the accident."

"Whoosh—"

A murmur of discussion erupted at the scene, and several veteran reporters from the social news section turned pale, frantically taking notes in their notebooks.

A female reporter asked loudly, "Director Chen, does this film have a specific target?"

"The film will capture every detail."

Chen Yan's voice was cold and devoid of warmth. "I will dig out those names hidden in the cement, one by one," he paused, then said slowly and deliberately, "and nail them to the screen."

Another male reporter immediately followed up: "It's rumored that Mr. Gu Changchuan was the legal representative for this construction project. Is your film aimed at him?"

Chen Yan looked at the reporter.

"Once the movie is made, whoever identifies with the character will be the one."

As soon as the words were spoken, the double mahogany doors of the banquet hall were pushed open from the outside.

Lin Qingqiu stood at the door.

She had a buzz cut close to her scalp, rough wheat-colored skin, and a scabbed scar on her cheek.

She walked into the venue wearing a black windbreaker, her military boots making no sound on the carpet.

The reporters instinctively made way for them.

Lin Qingqiu walked to the front of the stage, unzipped his jacket, took off his coat and threw it on an empty chair.

She rolled up the cuffs of her grey short-sleeved T-shirt to her shoulders, revealing three new, dark red, stitched-up scars on her left arm.

The scene was deathly silent, save for the sound of camera shutters.

She took the microphone from Su Wan.

"This was left behind at a quarry in Liangshan."

Lin Qingqiu's voice was hoarse but clear: "In 'Broken Bridge,' I will play an orphan girl who seeks out her father's killer. Director Chen wanted me to experience real pain, so I spent half a month smashing stones in a quarry."

She raised her scarred arm and looked directly into the camera.

"I'm ready."

A reporter, recovering from his shock, raised his hand: "Ms. Lin, is it worth it to give up all those high-end endorsements and go to the mountains to suffer like this?"

Lin Qingqiu lowered her sleeve to cover the scar.

"Actors don't need endorsements, they only need their work."

She looked at the reporter who asked the question, "Director Chen's camera doesn't film lies. I bring real wounds to the audience, and that's what makes it worthwhile."

Haihe Hotel, penthouse suite.

The press conference is being broadcast live on an 80-inch television screen.

Gu Changchuan sat on the sofa, looking at the poster for "Broken Bridge" and at the glaring white bone.

He pressed the remote control, the screen went black, and the room fell into darkness.

"He knew the law couldn't convict me."

Gu Changchuan's voice rang out in the darkness, eerily calm, "So, he moved the courtroom into the movie theater. He's going to use a hundred million or two hundred million in box office revenue to deliver my verdict."

Li Dong stood behind him, his head bowed even lower: "He found out about what happened in 1995. Once the movie is released, the task force will have a reason to reopen the investigation. The account books from back then..."

That's enough.

Gu Changchuan stood up, walked to the wall, pushed aside an oil painting, revealing a safe behind it.

Turn the keypad and pull open the heavy iron door.

Ignoring the gold bars on top and the passports on the middle, he took out a black satellite phone without any markings from the bottom.

Pull out the antenna, turn on the device, and the screen emits a faint green light.

Gu Changchuan dialed a number consisting of random characters.

When the call connected, all you could hear was the static of electricity coming through the receiver.

"it's me."

Gu Changchuan spoke.

A male voice with a heavy Southeast Asian accent came through: "Changchuan, what do you need?"

Gu Changchuan looked out the window at the myriad lights of the capital city, his voice completely flat.

"I want Chen Yan to live to see the start of filming."