The expeditionary force began to dominate Southeast Asia by recruiting defeated soldiers

September 20, 3 PM, Screening Room 2 at the Cannes Film Festival.

The hall was full of people.

Before the lights dimmed, Lin Zhenhua glanced at the audience. The front row was occupied by judges and VIPs, the middle by reporters and film critics, and the back by some ordinary audience members.

The four of them sat in the middle of the tenth row, a good spot specially reserved for them by assistant director Liu Qiming.

"Are you nervous?" Chen Siyuan asked in a low voice.

“A little.” Zhou Xiaomei gripped her notebook tightly.

Wu Xinjue sat upright, as if waiting for experimental data.

The lights went completely off.

The screen lights up.

First, there was a promotional video for a Southeast Asian country.

Only one minute.

The scene jumps to: gantry cranes loading and unloading containers at Yangon Port; trams passing by and pedestrians hurrying along the streets of Singapore; workers tapping rubber in a Medan rubber plantation, white latex flowing into bowls; and children raising the flag on the playground at a school in Myitkyina.

"United States of Southeast Asia - A new nation of diversity, development, and peace."

The narrator's voice was deep and powerful. The group didn't know that Zhang Chi had specifically instructed them to select the announcer based on the voice of Teacher Zhao from "Animal World" that they remembered after the trial run.

The short film has ended.

A slight commotion arose in the audience.

People were whispering among themselves.

“This is not the Far East I imagined…” a Gallic man in a top hat in the front row said to his companion.

“It looks quite modern,” his companion replied.

Lin Zhenhua's heart skipped a beat; it seemed that everyone's first impressions were quite good.

-----

The main film begins.

The opening credits read: "Equatorial Flames – Dedicated to all the sons and daughters of Southeast Asia who fought for freedom."

There was no music, only the sound of rain.

The time and location appeared on the black screen: "March 1942, Penang".

The screen lights up, showing a gloomy sky and a rubber plantation in a light rain.

The male protagonist, Chen Shanhe, is a young Chinese man in his early twenties, dressed in coarse cloth clothes, tapping rubber with his father.

His hand was steady; the knife sliced ​​diagonally across the bark, and white latex seeped out.

"Dad, I heard the Japanese are almost at Kuala Lumpur," Chen Shanhe said.

The father didn't even look up: "Go tap your rubber trees. Even if the sky falls, life goes on."

But then the sky really did fall.

Ten minutes later, the Japanese motorcycle convoy rushed into the rubber plantation.

The sounds of piercing roars, gunshots, and barking dogs filled the air.

Chen Shanhe's father was knocked to the ground by the butt of a rifle.

The mother rushed out of the house and was slapped to the ground.

Chen Shanhe tried to rush forward, but was held down firmly by his neighbor.

"Don't go, you'll die if you go."

He watched as his parents were dragged away and the rubber plantation was sealed off with a sign that read "Requisitioned by the Imperial Army".

The rain intensified, washing away the mud and tears from his face.

The audience was very quiet.

Wu Xinjue gritted his teeth.

His grandfather died during the Japanese occupation.

Zhou Xiaomei clenched her fists.

-----

The movie is fast-paced.

Chen Shanhe joined the underground resistance organization.

Training, reconnaissance, and sabotage.

The director filmed in a very realistic style, without any fancy martial arts moves, only crisp and clean knife fights, simple use of firearms, and the process of making homemade bombs.

There is a night raid scene where Chen Shanhe and three teammates ambush a Japanese patrol.

They used tripwires, traps, and close-range pistol shooting.

The whole process took less than two minutes, clean and efficient, but bloody and real.

When a Japanese soldier's throat was slit with a dagger, blood sprayed onto the camera lens.

Some people in the audience gasped.

"This filming is so... hardcore," Chen Siyuan said in a low voice.

Wu Xinjue's professional instincts kicked in, and he whispered his analysis: "That homemade bomb... judging from the explosion effect, it should be ammonium nitrate mixed with aluminum powder, packed in a tin can. The detonation device is a simple pull-type fuse."

Zhou Xiaomei kicked him: "Let's watch a movie."

---

The movie is not just about fighting.

There is a scene where an Allied pilot who has been shot down is rescued by the resistance.

The two sides initially distrusted each other, but eventually they came to understand and tolerate each other.

The Allied pilot also taught the soldiers how to use the captured Japanese radio.

Lin Zhenhua noticed that several white audience members sat up straight.

They are watching carefully.

The climax is coming.

Zhang Chi led the Anmin Army in a large-scale offensive on the Malay Peninsula.

The Japanese defenders suffered repeated defeats.

The resistance organization to which Chen Shanhe belonged also received secret aid and new missions.

They were going to destroy the Japanese communications station on Penang Hill.

The plan was to take advantage of the heavy rain to climb up the cliff behind the mountain.

This scene took a full fifteen minutes to film.

The tension of rock climbing – the rocks were loose, and one of the team members almost fell.

The suffocating feeling of infiltration—avoiding the searchlights and snapping the sentry's neck.

The race against time when installing explosives—Chen Shanhe connected the wires during the countdown, his hands trembling, but he kept steady.

The final explosion.

The director used multiple cameras for filming.

The slow-motion footage shows the moment the explosives detonated, with flames shooting out of the building's windows and bricks flying everywhere.

Then, a quick edit was made to show the entire process of the communications station collapsing.

"That was amazing, that explosion scene!" Wu Xinjue couldn't help but comment again, this time raising his voice a bit. An old Gallic man in the front row turned around and glared at him.

The rain stopped after the explosion.

dawn.

Chen Shanhe stood on the mountaintop, covered in wounds, looking down at Penang.

In the distance, the sun is slowly rising over the sea.

The image fades out.

As the end credits roll, the background music is the simple, traditional sound of a bamboo flute, melodious and resilient.

---

The screening room was initially deathly silent.

Three seconds.

then……

Applause erupted.

It started sporadically, beginning with a few audience members in the back rows. Then, like a contagion, it spread throughout the entire hall. The applause grew louder and louder, lasting for almost a minute.

Lin Zhenhua was stunned.

He turned his head to look around.

The white people—the film critics, journalists, and ordinary viewers—were applauding.

Some people looked serious, some nodded, and some were still wiping their eyes.

“Good heavens…” Chen Siyuan murmured, “They’re applauding. They’re applauding the movie we made.”

Zhou Xiaomei's eyes reddened, but she smiled.

Wu Xinjue clapped his hands so hard they turned red.

---

light is on.

The audience began to leave.

The four of them weren't in a hurry to leave; they sat there, wanting to hear what was going on.

The two men in suits in front of me were talking; judging from their accents, they were from the White Eagles.

"I didn't expect... it was filmed quite well. The narrative is smooth and the action scenes are realistic."

"The political implications are obvious, but they are packaged in a good story and visuals."

The gunfights and explosions, in particular, were very creative; Hollywood producers should really learn from them.

A French female journalist standing nearby quickly took notes:

"Helios Fire" is a war film shot in Southeast Asia.

Technically sound and emotionally genuine. Of particular note is its portrayal of diverse ethnic groups and its positioning of the War of Resistance as a war to defend one's homeland rather than partisan propaganda.

This could resonate with Western left-wing intellectuals.

To their biggest surprise, the film critic Lefever, whom they had met on the train, came over.

"You saw it?" Lefevere asked.

"I've seen it." Lin Zhenhua stood up.

“I have to apologize to you,” Lefevere said earnestly. “I did have a prejudice before.”

But this film... it moved me.

It's not because it's perfect; some parts of the editing could have been more refined, and the background music is a bit monotonous.

But it has a genuine power. Your protagonist isn't playing a hero; he's an ordinary person struggling, fearing, yet still choosing to fight. That's precious.

He paused for a moment: "Moreover, it showed me a Southeast Asia that I knew nothing about. Not the exotic scenery on postcards, but a living, breathing population that suffers and rebels. I will write a review about it. A positive review."

Lefevere nodded and left.

The four of them looked at each other.

"We...successfully?" Chen Siyuan was still a little confused.

“At least they didn’t smash it.” Zhou Xiaomei closed her notebook, her hands trembling slightly. “They were engaged with it, and they were moved. That’s enough.”