Chapter 270: Trial Screening of the Original Version

“Stop it. Qingxia can use various methods to maintain her figure—can’t Jiaxin do the same?” Wei Dongling glared at Xiao Ran fiercely. Lin Qingxia always had to rely on dieting and exercise after giving birth to keep her figure the same as before. Did Wei Dongling not have the money to help his wife with these things?
Xiao Ran chuckled. Such things were indeed something only the wealthy could afford. Just to regain her figure after giving birth, Lin Qingxia had spent at least hundreds of thousands—something an ordinary family could never afford.
However, Lin Qingxia was now a billionaire. She had invested her money in the Tianxia Fund a long time ago, and over the years, it had generated a substantial income for her. Moreover, many of the properties and stocks Xiao Ran had purchased were registered under Lin Qingxia’s name, giving her a net worth of around a billion. Hundreds of millions were nothing to her.
A pretty little girl was rolling around on the grass in the garden with a slightly older boy. When they saw Xiao Ran, they rushed over and called out, “Dad!” Xiao Ran began to understand why the elders thought that way. Hearing his son and daughter call him that made him feel strange, as if he had really grown old.
Holding both of them, Xiao Ran said with a smile, “Dad has something to do tonight and can’t spend time with you. How about you stay with grandpa and grandma?”
“Another thing to do!” Xiao Qing’s voice was still sweet and pleasant. The boy then suggested, “How about you ride me on horseback next time?”
Xiao Ran affectionately patted the grass stuck to the boy’s clothes. Helplessly, he thought that as a super-rich man, he still had to act as a riding horse for his son when he got home—truly paying off his debts. But what else could he say? To his son, he could only smile and say, “No problem. Go to your godfather!”
Wei Dongling was now Xiao Qing’s godfather. Xiao Ran and Lin Qingxia both justified this decision by saying, “Xiaoling already has several godfathers—adding one more won’t hurt. Xiao Qing doesn’t have one yet. Anyway, since you’re so good at business, you can teach him in the future.” It was somewhat reluctant, as Xiao Ran’s status and influence in Hong Kong were at their peak. Aside from friends like Yang Qi and Fa Ge, who were qualified to be the godfathers of the two children, only Wei Dongling fit the role.
Xiaoling started speaking earlier than Xiao Qing, and her speech was already quite clear. Xiao Ran loved his younger daughter the most. Perhaps in every family, the youngest is the one who gets the most pampering. Sometimes, Xiao Ran even wondered if his children might fight over inheritance, just like in those TV dramas.
To prevent this, Xiao Ran always told Xiao Qing to protect his sister and encouraged them to play together to build a bond. He tried to be fair in his treatment of them. It might not guarantee that everything would go as he hoped, but it was all he could do.

“By the way, Xiao Qing, did that bad dog bully Xiao Ling’er? Remember, you’re the older brother—you need to protect your sister!” Lin Qingxia and Li Jiaxin arrived at that moment. Seeing Xiao Ran giving such instructions, they felt both annoyed and amused. Xiao Ran truly never forgot about this issue.

However, from this, we can also see Xiao Ran’s character—he is very thoughtful and always anticipates problems. This is one of the reasons why he often succeeds in business; he can consider every possibility and prepare corresponding solutions in advance.

Holding Xiao Ling’er, Huang Qun couldn’t help teasing the little girl, “Xiao Ling’er, do you still remember me? I’m your godfather!”
Xiao Ling’er obediently blinked a few times. Perhaps seeing Huang Qun’s thin frame and kind expression, which didn’t resemble that of a bad person, she didn’t cry. Still, she pouted, her eyes watery as she looked at Xiao Ran and cried sadly, “Dad…”
Huang Qun and Wei Dongling’s hearts softened immediately at her cry. Wei Dongling even said firmly, “Xiao Ling’er is exactly like Xiao Ran—she’s an excellent actor. She’ll definitely become a powerful woman in the future!”
None of the people present expected this, not even Wei Dongling himself. His words came true—Xiao Ling indeed became a powerful woman. She not only took over Xiao Ran’s business but also expanded Shadow’s business significantly within just ten years. She was very much like Xiao Ran, skilled in strategy and cunning. It was Xiao Qing who inherited her parents’ artistic talent and became a famous artist.

“I really envy you for having such a happy family. Sometimes I think being a businessman isn’t bad either!” Huang Qun sighed, looking around at the surroundings. The land Xiao Ran bought was enormous, covering thirty to forty thousand square feet, with stunning sea views to the south and lush green nature in the other three directions. “At least you have the money to buy such a comfortable house!”

Speaking of this, it was indeed Xiao Ran’s pride. The house and land, which originally cost sixty million, had risen to 400 million Hong Kong dollars in just a few years. If it were an investment, it would be extremely worthwhile.

Xiao Ran took Xiao Ling’er and affectionately stroked her cute nose. Xiao Ling’er loved this feeling and immediately giggled. Xiao Ran said to her, “Xiao Ling’er, remember, this Uncle Huang is your godfather. Don’t forget that next time. Do you still remember that little wooden horse you played with last time? He gave it to you!”

Hearing this, Huang Qun looked ashamed. He said he wanted to give Xiao Ling’er a gift but couldn’t think of anything else, so he ended up making a little wooden horse by hand as a token of his feelings.

That evening was the preview for Xiao Ran’s work, “True Nature.” Quite a few people came to watch it, including Wei Dongling and the others. Huang Qun curiously asked, “Why is it called ‘True Nature’?”
The others also turned to look at Xiao Ran with interest. Wei Dongling maliciously speculated, “I guess Aran meant ‘the true nature of a man.’ Qingxia, you need to be careful of this kid!”

Although it was hard to see clearly in the darkness, Xiao Ran still glared fiercely at Wei Dongling before explaining, “As you all know, this is my experimental work. And this film is very special—its uniqueness lies in the perspective. I think it can be explained as restoring the original colors of this story, or the story within these eyes.”

Tragically, according to the rules, Xiao Ran’s experimental work had to be shown in an art house theater. The reason he hadn’t shown it for previews earlier was that previews are meant to gather audience feedback to determine whether it needs further editing, but since this was his personal work, there was no need to cater to the audience. So he took it straight to Cannes for previews.

As usual, there were a few commercials, but this time there were especially many. After the commercials came the trailers. There were two trailers this time—one featuring Yang Chao, who had failed with Xiao Ran at Cannes for the first time. Yang Chao is now a highly skilled director in Hong Kong specializing in historical themes; he supervised the war film “The Phantom.” The other trailer was directed by a director known for grand spectacles.

Yang Chao’s new film was also an art film. Generally, trailers are similar in style to the actual film to attract audiences as much as possible. Next was Wang Jiawei’s “Dong Xie Xi Du.” Upon seeing the scenes of splitting mountains in the trailer, Xiao Ran felt both love and hatred.

Xiao Ran had always felt a murderous impulse toward Wang Jiawei. It’s truly hard to describe this feeling, but if we understand that Wang Jiawei spent a whopping 160 million on filming “Dong Xie Xi Du,” then we can understand Xiao Ran’s emotions.

However, Xiao Ran really liked this film. He considered it Wang Jiawei’s best movie and one of the most perfect films in Hong Kong cinema history—assuming poor box office performance wasn’t considered a flaw.

When the actual film started, it began with that increasingly grand and sacred goddess logo. Xiao Ran couldn’t help but think of the hardships during his early days in business, and he turned to look at Lin Qingxia. Unexpectedly, Lin Qingxia also thought of the difficulties she faced while filming that logo and looked at him as well.

The two exchanged smiles. Sometimes, it’s truly wonderful to stand in the present and appreciate the past; every memory becomes a treasured silver calendar that never fades. On the screen appeared another logo combining film and camera—the symbol of Basic Film.

After those appeared, the exciting subtitles finally showed up—Xiao Ran’s Work! How could one not be excited by Xiao Ran’s work? After all, he was a director who had never failed to make a good film. In Xiao Ran’s memory, the only other director in Hong Kong history who could claim not to have made a flop was Zhao Chongji, known as the “scholar director,” who helped Zheng Zheshi become a superstar with “Three Injured Police Officers.”

These days, top directors usually make at most two films a year—one commercial and one art film. The only exception is Xu Ke, a super-fast filmmaker who directed four films in 1991. In recent years, he has reduced it to three, while most others make one or two films per year. Directors like Xiao Ran and Wu Yusen might not even make a film in two years because they need time to think.

The video finally started, with a slightly shaky image appearing first. This camera shake problem had troubled Xiao Ran, Huang Yongheng, and Liu Weiqiang for several days before they finally found a way to create shock absorbers to prevent severe shaking. In fact, Liu Weiqiang had suggested not using a handheld camera, but both Xiao Ran and Huang Yongheng rejected the idea—since the camera was the “eye,” there should be no shaking, as that would make it more realistic. The images on the screen kept moving forward, along with subtitles showing the cast and crew. To overcome the monotony that could make the scene boring, Xiao Ran decided to emphasize the surrounding sound environment. Unexpectedly, this created a sense of immersion; hearing various sounds from the speakers made it easy for viewers to realize there were interesting things around them as well. As the camera moved, the virtual male protagonist entered the bank. At this point, the audience finally sensed something was wrong—why were two hands suddenly appearing at the bottom of the screen, and why did the sounds come from right in the center of the image? Xiao Ran couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly—what was manipulating the audience? This was it. Anyone could find pleasure in manipulation, and that was why people strived to climb higher. Yet, no sense of manipulation could compare to what Xiao Ran was experiencing now, because it didn’t harm anyone and was still a form of art—he was manipulating people’s behavior and thoughts throughout those over an hour. When the hands in the scene took the money and turned to leave, they saw a masked man with a fierce expression coming in from the door, pulling out a weapon. The image trembled momentarily—this was the virtual protagonist’s trembling. The dark gun barrel was raised and pointed at the camera. Due to the wide-angle lens, Liu Qingyun’s face and the gun appeared distorted, creating a twisted sense of threat. Then, a lazy voice came from the speakers: “Don’t move! I’m robbing you!” “It’s you!” “It’s you?” The two robbers, who had run into each other by chance, found themselves in a very awkward situation—encountering a rival while committing a crime, and worse, they seemed to have a history of conflict. As the two moved quickly, the camera captured everything on screen. The moment the fierce robber played by Liu Qingyun widened his eyes and shot someone, blood sprayed out—this special effect was extremely realistic. The camera immediately plunged into darkness, until the audience understood what the scene was trying to convey: the darkness was because the virtual protagonist had closed his eyes out of fear. But closing one’s eyes didn’t mean fear disappeared. As the title appeared on the darkened screen, gunshots and screams could still be heard occasionally—this idea was inspired by “Gunfire.” While editing this scene, Xiao Ran had been struggling to make the opening more interesting, until he thought of “Gunfire.” He then had an idea: show only one shooting scene, with the rest of the gunshots echoing in the darkness, thereby subtly evoking fear.

The story that followed was much more interesting. The audience, freed from the dullness of the first three minutes, focused intently on the film. It gave them a wonderful feeling; the visuals made it seem as though they were on the street watching a police shootout and having to dodge around.