Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

The rain didn't lessen; instead, it intensified.

The glass door of the convenience store was pushed open forcefully from the outside, and a cold wind mixed with rain rushed in.

The clock on the doorframe was damp, emitting a hoarse, crackling sound: "Ding-dong... Welcome... Ding-dong..."

The four or five people who came in were all wearing black leather jackets.

The leader was a man with a shaved head, a fleshy fold across the back of his neck, and a strip of something wrapped in newspaper in his right hand.

This is the old thug's tactic: wrapping a steel pipe in newspaper, beating people without drawing blood, and if something really happens, just say it was a piece of junk he picked up.

The muddy boots left a trail of wet, black marks on the paving stones.

The students in the film crew had never seen anything like this before.

Zhang Yuan had just taken half a step to stop it when he caught a glimpse of the rusty color showing through the torn front of the newspaper, and he stopped abruptly.

The camera crew members quietly put down the sunshades they were holding and took two steps back.

Convenience store owner Fatty Wang huddled under the counter, his voice trembling: "Third Brother, these are all students from the Beijing Film Academy, filming their assignments."

Liu San ignored him and walked straight to the track, touching the fuselage of the Arleigh 16SR2 with the thing in his hand.

The metal collided, producing a dull thud.

"Taking pictures of homework?"

Liu San spat a mouthful of yellowish saliva onto the bright floor tiles. "Making such a racket? This light is keeping the whole street awake. Don't you know that's disturbing the peace?"

Zhang Yuan panicked.

If the track gets dented, the camera will jump around when you zoom in.

Just as he was about to step forward to argue, Chen Yan reached out and blocked his way.

Chen Yan didn't bring a tripod; his hands remained in his pockets.

He scrutinized Liu San through the monitor, scanning him up and down, as if he were looking at any extra.

"Disturbing the peace is indeed wrong."

Chen Yan spoke, his tone steady, "Boss Wang, bring a case of Red Bull and two cartons of Zhonghua cigarettes, put them on my tab."

The entire crew was stunned.

Zhang Yuan cursed inwardly. How come he was so tough on the department head, but turned into a coward when he encountered a thug?

Liu San grinned, revealing a row of teeth blackened by cheap cigarettes. "You're an artist after all, you know the rules. But we brothers stood in the rain for half the night, and this little bit of cigarettes isn't enough to calm our nerves."

Several burly men behind him started making a fuss, and one of them deliberately took two steps closer to Su Wan, openly looking her up and down.

Su Wan clung tightly to the clapperboard, her fingernails digging into the cracks in the wood.

Chen Yan took out an unopened box of Zhonghua cigarettes and slowly tore off the plastic seal.

"Third Brother, right?"

Liu San raised an eyebrow.

"I heard it mentioned by Boss Wang."

Chen Yan crumpled the torn plastic wrap into a ball and gently bounced it into the nearby trash can. "Your word carries the most weight around here, but I'll also tell you something: this film is registered with the Beijing Film Academy."

He stepped aside to give way to the view from across the street. "The man who just walked by was Qi Feng, the deputy director of the photography department. He used to work for ministries."

Chen Yan looked at Liu San and said, "We filmmakers may not have any other skills, but we can guarantee the authenticity of what's on camera."

He pointed to the machine, "This machine is filled with Kodak 500T film, which can capture even pores clearly, even in low light."

Chen Yan paused for a moment, "If Director Qi sees a few more big shots in the footage tomorrow, he might just have to call his old comrades from the branch office for a chat."

Just then, a flash of red and blue police lights appeared at the intersection.

It was a passing patrol car, but it stood out conspicuously against the backdrop of the rain.

Chen Yan pointed to the faintly visible lights across the street: "The police station is right across the street."

He offered the cigarette in his hand forward, "Third Brother, I have money. It's my lifeline for post-production. The cigarettes and drinks are a token of the crew's appreciation."

Chen Yan slowed his tone, "If you really want to discuss large sums, how about we find another place to talk in detail after this set of shots is finished?"

Chen Yan stuffed the cigarette in his hand into Liu San's jacket pocket and patted him on the shoulder.

This slap, delivered with just the right amount of force, revealed the shrewdness of someone who had been in the world of fame and fortune for a long time.

Liu San's face twitched.

He touched the cigarettes in his pocket, then looked at the faintly visible police lights in the distance.

He's shrewd; someone who can afford such a large camera to shoot films usually has a complicated background.

This kid in front of me is too calm; I can't figure him out at all.

"Fine, you've got guts."

Liu San waved his hand, tucked the steel pipe back under his arm, and said, "We have to give Director Qi face. When the film airs, remember to make sure it looks good on me. Let's go!"

Several people walked out of the store cursing and disappeared into the rain.

The store fell silent again, with only the hum of the freezer running.

"That scared me to death..."

Zhang Yuan plopped down on the track box, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. "Chen Yan, what if he doesn't fall for this?"

"If you don't buy into this, we'll just smash this machine here today."

Chen Yan turned around, all the previous politeness vanished. "What are you staring at? Did you get the angle of that lightning strike? Lights, check the color paper! Record the audio, cut the sound of those people entering the room into the ambient sound track!"

Su Wan walked over carrying a thermos and poured a small bowl of ginger soup, handing it to her.

There is a notch on the edge of the porcelain bowl.

Chen Yan took it and drank a sip. The spicy ginger juice went straight down his throat to his stomach, dispelling the chill.

"On your marks!"

Chen Yan put down his bowl, his voice stern, "Deng Chuan, are you still in the right state of mind?"

Deng Chuan, who had been squatting silently in the corner, stood up.

He witnessed the entire process of Chen Yan dealing with the thugs, and all his previous resentment towards Chen Yan has now turned into awe.

"exist."

Deng Chuan replied.

"Let's reshoot that scene from earlier."

Chen Yan pointed out the window, "It's raining outside. This is a gift from heaven. This rain will completely separate the convenience store from the outside world."

He looked at Deng Chuan and said, "Take the sense of oppression that Liu San brought you when he came in and incorporate it into your actions of tidying up the shelves."

Chen Yan raised his hand to signal, "Don't let your hands shake, slow down your movements, slow down so that the audience feels that you are exhausting yourself even with the slightest movement."

Filming continues.

Rainwater streamed down the glass curtain wall, its distorted reflection shimmering in the cool-toned lighting.

"Action!"

In the footage, Deng Chuan mechanically puts a bottle of expired milk back into the freezer.

The movements are sluggish and heavy.

A gust of wind blew the back door, which wasn't closed properly, open, and it slammed against the wall with a dull thud.

Just as Zhang Yuan was about to yell "Cut!", Chen Yan made a gesture to stop him.

Deng Chuan did not turn around.

His shoulders jerked violently, then he slowly turned his head to look at the empty back door.

That tranquility that comes after utter despair for the world is amplified to its maximum at this moment.

Theatrical performances and everyday life are strangely intertwined in this small space.

The film moved rapidly through the film canister, making a rustling sound.

"Click! Passed!"

"The last frame of film has been taken."

The production assistant ran over and said.

Chen Yan walked to the machine and personally unloaded the heavy film canister.

The weight of the metal made him feel grounded.

This contains his bargaining chips for turning the tide.

"That's it for today, let's load the truck and head back to school."

The crew packed up their equipment and squeezed into the old, rented van.

Su Wan leaned against Chen Yan and, due to extreme exhaustion, quickly fell into a deep sleep.

Chen Yan stared at the bluish-gray morning light outside the car window, wide awake.

In her past life, Su Wan's father was diagnosed with a terminal illness during a medical check-up two months later.

He had to beat the Grim Reaper to the end and get his hands on the 400,000 yuan down payment his father had prepared for him to buy a house, turning it into a life-saving fund.

In addition, he also had to rent a professional linear editing room and get Deng Chuan a suit that could walk the Cannes red carpet.

Money is needed everywhere.

Chen Yan took out his secondhand Nokia 3210 from his pocket and dialed his home landline number.

He needs to keep the old man calm first, and then get the money out of him today.

The call connected after five or six beeps.

"Dad, I..."

"Chen Yan?"

The voice coming through the receiver wasn't his father's at all.

The voice was filled with undisguised mockery and coldness.

"Your lousy film crew doesn't need to continue filming."

The other person paused, then chuckled in a low voice, "Your dad's in my office right now. He won't be throwing a single penny of his 400,000 yuan for a house into your garbage dump!"

It's Qi Feng.