Chapter 169: Prelude to the Golden Statue Award

These words still left the three of them confused, but Guan Xin became more cautious, realizing that Xiao Ran sometimes liked to speak in such veiled ways. So, as Yang Guang and Monkey looked up at the ceiling, he asked in a low voice, “Is something about to happen?”
Xiao Ran was extremely troubled. He usually spoke in roundabouts, but never to such an extreme. Yet today he had done it twice in a row—it was really difficult for him. He could only turn his gaze outside the window and then look at the ceiling, saying, “The weather isn’t very good. By the way, Master, what did you do for work before? Why haven’t you ever told me?”
Guan Xin was slightly surprised. Although they had never mentioned their true identities, Xiao Ran clearly knew them. Why was he asking now? Seeing that they still didn’t understand, Xiao Ran could only sigh and try to explain more clearly: “The place where you used to work has become too lax recently. It seems someone has infiltrated it to cause chaos. Go back and tell them right away!”
Fortunately, talking to Guan Xin and the others didn’t require as much effort as before; otherwise, Xiao Ran would have collapsed. Guan Xin was puzzled for a moment before suddenly standing up straight, his gaze sharp as he stared at Xiao Ran, “How do you know?”
“I had a dream about it. Do you believe it? If not, then stop asking. Go back quickly, or big trouble will arise!” Xiao Ran had never seen Guan Xin’s murderous gaze before. His heart trembled slightly before he realized Guan Xin understood him. With that, he left.
Pulling the two who no longer paid attention to the ceiling, Guan Xin’s voice, deep and powerful like that of a lion, rang out, “You two stay behind to protect Xiao Ran. I’m going back to Beijing right away!”
Guan Xin wasn’t very convinced that Xiao Ran was lying, because he knew Xiao Ran wouldn’t do such a foolish thing, nor would he joke about such an urgent matter. Most importantly, telling such a lie would bring no benefit to Xiao Ran at all. So, he was sure Xiao Ran meant that there was a breach in the National Security Bureau’s defenses, allowing foreigners to infiltrate and cause chaos.
April 17th was the Golden Statue Award ceremony. Xiao Ran appeared on the red carpet with a sense of pride. Of course, pride was just a pleasant emotion and didn’t necessarily mean he was complacent.
Xiao Ran was happy not because of the Golden Statue Award, but because his superior hadn’t died the day before yesterday, which filled him with confidence about the future. He thought that as long as such incidents could be avoided, the mainland market would surely open earlier, Western countries wouldn’t impose such strict restrictions, and local citizens and wealthy people wouldn’t rush to emigrate in droves.
The BMW stopped perfectly in front of the red carpet, causing a stir among the reporters. Xiao Ran’s arrival wasn’t really news, but his relationship with Lin Qingxia remained a topic in newspapers and magazines, drawing a lot of attention.
Xiao Ran got out of the car with a smile. Seeing the disappointed expressions of the reporters waiting around, he secretly chuckled to himself. He had originally planned to come with Lin Qingxia, but to give the opportunity to act with her to Fa Ge, so as to calm things down.

Reaching out, it was Zhong Chuhong who emerged from the car, once again becoming the focus of the reporters. However, since the whole world knew that Xiao Ran and Aunt Hong were good friends, there was no way any rumors could arise even if forced.

Walking a few steps forward with Zhong Chuhong, under the persistent requests of the reporters, she stepped lightly and posed several times for them to take pictures. The reporters seized this opportunity to bombard her with questions: “Director Xiao, what’s the situation between you and Lin Qingxia now? Don’t you feel any ethical difficulties being with her?”

“I’m sorry. Although I’ve always enjoyed interacting with reporters…” Xiao Ran smiled at them. If he were a woman, that smile would surely be sweet. “But this time, I really have nothing to say!”

The reporters were momentarily frustrated but quickly rushed to ask, “Since Shadow Company’s films have received the most nominations in the history of the Golden Horse Awards, with ‘Dark Flowers’ and ‘Espionage’ both nominated for Best Director, what are your thoughts?”

“I have many thoughts…” Xiao Ran thought perhaps he could use this opportunity to inspire all filmmakers in Hong Kong. But then he remembered how the reporters might twist his words, so he shrugged and said, “I’m very happy. You know I’ve always strived to be an excellent director, and these nominations are truly a great encouragement to me!”

“Director Xiao, you don’t need to be modest. Your films are always outstanding. Now everyone knows you’re the best director in Hong Kong!” One of the reporters, who seemed familiar, was actually a fan of Xiao Ran. Realizing such a statement might offend someone, he quickly added, “One of the best directors!”

After chatting with the reporters for a while, Zhong Chuhong finally managed to get away. The two walked forward hand in hand. Xiao Ran leaned in close to Aunt Hong’s ear and joked, “Aunt Hong, if Ah Ding saw this scene, he’d definitely want to kill me!”

“Would he dare?” Zhong Chuhong laughed. Not many people knew about her relationship with Zhu Jiading, and Xiao Ran was one of them. “I’m just worried Qingxia will get jealous. Then you’ll be in trouble!”

The two continued chatting affectionately as they walked forward. Soon, they saw the Beyond band walking on the red carpet, also looking excited. It was their first time attending the Golden Horse Awards, and they were thrilled.

The band wasn’t yet famous, as their first album, carefully crafted by Tianlai, hadn’t been released yet, though promotion and other preparations were in place. Xiao Ran was convinced that this band, which he had once loved so much, would surely become famous.

However, Xiao Ran knew well that even without his intervention, Huang Jiaju and the others could still become famous. It might just not happen so quickly. At least in Xiao Ran’s memory, Huang Jiaju and the others weren’t famous even when they starred in “Happy Ghosts,” and it wasn’t until they appeared in “Lucky Stars” that they began to gain recognition.

The four of them were clearly a bit awkward. Most reporters didn’t take them seriously, only the reporters from Shuxiang’s “Influence” and the “New Newspaper” understood the intention to promote these four and took pictures of them.

Seeing Xiao Ran and Zhong Chuhong approaching, the four of them quickly greeted them with respect. Xiao Ran frowned slightly—this was how things worked in the film industry; without someone’s support, they could easily be overlooked.
“Jiaju, how do you feel?” Xiao Ran thought he should help them, so he released Zhong Chuhong’s hand and gently placed his hand on Jiaju’s shoulder. “It’s your first time at an event like this—don’t be nervous. Look at the stars performing on stage and tell yourself that next year, at the latest, you’ll be performing there too!”
“President Xiao, thank you!” Huang Jiaju and his three friends were truly grateful to Xiao Ran. Yet they also wondered why he had chosen to sign them and go to such lengths to promote them.
Xiao Ran shook his head with a smile, exuding the demeanor of a leader. Seeing the reporters capturing images of them hanging around each other affectionately, he patted their shoulders and left behind a meaningful remark as he walked away: “Believe in yourselves—you’ll become one of the best bands in Hong Kong!”
Watching Xiao Ran and Zhong Chuhong walk away, the four of them felt incredibly confident—a reaction Xiao Ran was pleased to see. After all, this band was truly outstanding. It was a shame that just as they became famous in the 1990s, Jiaju passed away in an accident.
“I wonder why you’re so keen to promote those four people?” Zhong Chuhong stayed close to Xiao Ran, seemingly unafraid that Zhu Jiading might be jealous. “Anyone else could have become famous just as easily!”
Xiao Ran remained silent. He remembered competing fiercely with his classmates in school to get copies of that famous band’s tapes—the obsession was indescribable. It seemed that no matter which generation it was, everyone at that age would become wildly obsessed with this band.
It was a pity that New Art City had wasted their musical talents earlier, especially Huang Jiaju’s extraordinary gift. Instead of letting them focus on music, they were forced to participate in film projects, aiming to turn them into a new generation of movie stars. Later, they did manage to gain recognition, but Jiaju’s death in Japan led to the band’s complete decline, taking away a lot of purity and idealism from Hong Kong music.
“They’re very talented, especially that one named Huang Jiaju. They’ll surely make their music popular throughout Southeast Asia!” Xiao Ran said with absolute certainty. He thought this was the only thing he could say.
Suddenly, Xiao Ran’s eyes lit up. Was that tall figure ahead none other than Old Qiao? In Xiao Ran’s time, Qiao Hong had already passed away in 2000 due to heart disease. He was a truly remarkable person—Xiao Ran always thought he resembled a Hong Kong version of Sean Connery, remaining strong even in old age and still able to act on screen. He even won the Best Actor award for “Forty.”
Qiao Hong had appeared in Harrison Ford’s Treasure series, though Xiao Ran couldn’t quite remember which one. Still, he greatly admired the old man’s dedication and superb acting skills.

Besides that, what impressed Xiao Ran the most was that Qiao Hong had once acted with Wu Yaohan in a movie titled “The Clever Thief”. In that film, Xiao Ran was shocked to find that the scene of stealing documents from the first episode of “Spy in the Mirror” was almost identical to a theft scene in this 1979 movie. He even wondered if Hollywood had plagiarized it.

Xiang Zhongchuhong nodded and stepped forward to greet him, “Mr. Qiao, hello!”

Qiao Hong turned around in surprise and saw it was Xiao Ran. He was momentarily stunned before smiling and saying, “Director Xiao, hello too!”

“Aran, why did you suddenly come over?” Hearing this voice, Xiao Ran knew things were bad. Sure enough, his mentor Huang Zhan grabbed him tightly as he tried to run away and snapped angrily, “You little rascal, you’re so cunning. Don’t think just because you’re busy with work you can skip coming to learn from me. You even deliberately sent me a few kids—this is just causing me trouble!”

Xiao Ran smiled awkwardly. He had indeed learned composition, but lyric writing required a strong cultural foundation, something he couldn’t handle. So, out of necessity and due to his busy schedule, he stopped going. As a result, he selected a few eager young talents from the company to learn there instead.

It seemed now that this idea wasn’t very clever at all! Xiao Ran inwardly groaned in frustration, but then saw Huang Zhan suddenly smile at Gu Jiahui, who had appeared nearby, and say, “This kid is just lazy. But this time, I’ll forgive him. Among the kids he sent, there are a few with real talent!”

The reporters frantically took pictures of Xiao Ran running away in fear at Huang Zhan’s words, even coming up with headlines like, “Uncle Zhan Turns Around Suddenly, Xiao Ran Fleees in Panic!”

Xiao Ran didn’t care about the reporters, nor did he pay attention to Xiang Zhongchuhong, who was covering her mouth and laughing secretly. Hearing what Uncle Zhan said, he felt relieved. He turned around and said with a smile, “Uncle Zhan, Uncle Gu, I did the right thing, right?”

“Not bad. If I hadn’t said that, would you have turned back so I could catch you?” Uncle Zhan smiled slyly. Seeing himself trapped in Uncle Zhan’s grasp, Xiao Ran couldn’t help but sigh bitterly. Uncle Zhan released him and said seriously, “As for lyric writing, there’s no hope for you. But if you can create a song that becomes widely popular in the future, then I’ll consider you graduated. But where did you find such talented kids?”

Of course they were talented! At this point, Xiao Ran couldn’t help but feel proud. He had put in a lot of effort to cultivate the next generation of Hong Kong cinema talent, spending at least hundreds of millions just on this alone, not including the costs of producing experimental films for those newcomers.

He had originally planned to bring in a group of exchange students from the mainland, but negotiations on that hadn’t progressed. The mainland refused to meet his demands, including broadcasting the Golden Horse Awards and other requests. So, Xiao Ran had no choice but to use this delaying tactic, hoping to talk seriously with the Silver City management after some time.

Having spent a lot of money to carefully select these talents, if they were still not good enough, then Xiao Ran really should buy some tofu and smash his head against it. Without further delay, he chatted with Qiao Hong and the others along the way, while greeting other acquaintances as he entered the venue.