EFB Chapter 109 Since it's a ghost show, let the ghosts watch the show.
Chapter 109 Since it's a ghost show, let the ghosts watch the show.
The lighter clicked shut.
The flame went out.
Chen Yan stuffed the cold metal casing into his pocket without even glancing at the newspaper at his feet.
He turned, his gaze sweeping across the damp street and settling on the cinema in the distance.
"Back to the Lumière Hall."
Wu Gang opened the car door, and the Santana engine roared.
The wheels rolled over the gravel road, making a series of dull, cracking sounds.
Su Wan sat in the passenger seat, her fingertips tapping silently on her knees, revealing her inner anxiety.
"Director Chen, the premiere is at 2 AM tomorrow. Head to the venue now..."
Chen Yan leaned back in the seat, his eyes closed, the light and shadow of the streetlights outside the window flashing across his face.
"Time calibration".
……
The Lumière Hall, the projection control room.
A strong smell of machine heat and old carpet wafted over me.
Chen Yan pushed open the door and entered.
A French projectionist in blue overalls sat in front of the monitor, not looking up.
Chen Yan walked straight to the main unit, his finger tracing the adjustment knob for the projection light source, stopping at a certain mark.
Without asking, he pulled over the lumen meter next to him and pressed the sensor head against the cold reflective lens.
A glaring number popped up on the screen: 3200.
"The standard output of this machine is 4,500 lumens."
Chen Yan's voice was calm, yet it made the projectionist's shoulders stiffen.
The projectionist tossed down his pen, spread his hands, and said languidly, "Old light bulbs, sir, a common problem at film festivals."
Chen Yan ignored him and bent down to pull out a copper wire from under the host unit.
There are several fresh scratches on the insulation, indicating that someone has forcibly short-circuited it with a tool, limiting the power output.
"How long has He Ping been here?"
The projectionist shifted his toes, trying to block a small piece of copper shavings on the ground.
"He was just acting as a judge, checking the screening environment."
"Parameter Table".
Chen Yan reached out his hand to him.
The projectionist hesitated before handing over the crumpled piece of paper soaked in sweat.
Chen Yan's gaze fell on the parameter bar.
Contrast, reduce by 30%.
Under these parameters, the dark details in "Thunder" will become a blurry mess, the texture of ruins will disappear completely, and the whole movie will look like an underground video shot with a cheap DV camera.
"Wu Gang".
Wu Gang's broad body squeezed into the cramped control room, blocking the doorway like a wall.
"Director Chen?"
Su Wan sensed something was wrong and quickly stepped forward.
Chen Yan did not answer, but walked straight to the constant temperature box on the side of the projector and turned the lock.
"Don't!"
Su Wan blocked his way, "Taking the film now is a strike! Tomorrow's screening will be completely canceled!"
"It's over when those people only see a dark shadow."
Chen Yan pushed her hand away, unscrewed the clasp, and picked up the two heavy aluminum copy boxes.
The metal boxes collided with a loud bang.
"Go tell the organizing committee that the equipment is broken and we're not performing."
"Then tomorrow morning..." Su Wan's voice tightened.
Chen Yan walked out of the control room; the night was deep.
"At two o'clock tomorrow morning," he said calmly, "there will be light in Cannes."
……
The sea breeze made Lin Qingqiu unsteady on her feet as she stood on the steps in front of the cinema.
She held up the torn black dress and watched Chen Yan put two silver boxes into the trunk.
"Can't act anymore?"
Her voice was so soft that it would dissipate with a gust of wind.
Chen Yan closed the trunk.
"Ghost shows shouldn't be performed indoors."
Lin Qingqiu lowered her head and looked at her toes covered with thin calluses.
"They said that at two in the morning, there are only homeless people and drunks. They don't go to the movies; they just laugh at the scars on my legs."
Chen Yan grabbed her arm and led her to the breakwater across the street.
Beneath my feet lies the dark Mediterranean Sea.
He didn't speak, but simply pointed across the sea to the row of five-star hotels with their huge white facades lit up.
"Tomorrow, that will be your screen."
Chen Yan's voice sounded a little cold from the sea breeze.
"Your scars will be the brightest badge on that wall."
Lin Qingqiu looked in the direction he pointed.
Looking at those huge, cold building facades, she subconsciously straightened her back, which was slightly bent due to the pain.
The weariness and confusion on his face were burned away by something scalding hot.
Chen Yan turned to look at Su Wan.
"Have you been able to contact them?"
Su Wan nodded, speaking very quickly: "It's an outdoor art installation in the basement of the old town. It's $20,000, including rent and penalty for breach of contract. The deposit has already been paid."
"lead the way."
……
The basement of an abandoned silk factory.
Four massive, rough-looking machines were placed in the center, with convex lenses half a meter in diameter at the front, resembling four dark cannon muzzles.
A French man wearing goggles patted the machine's heatsink: "High-powered xenon laser machine, used for projecting the national flag on Bastille Day. How far do you want to project it?"
"Five hundred meters."
Chen Yan walked over, his finger tracing the coating on the lens. "Target: the south wall of the Martinez Hotel."
The French man whistled loudly: "You lunatic, that's the judges' and sponsors' bedrooms. You'll get arrested by the police."
Chen Yan patted the copy box at his waist: "That's my problem. Can the film mount be modified?"
"One hour."
The French man pulled down his goggles, and sparks flew as he cut.
Su Wan stood in the shadows: "If we do this, the organizing committee might disqualify us from the competition."
Chen Yan stared at the fluctuating voltmeter: "He Ping has already canceled our screening quality. I'll take the qualification myself."
He turned around.
"Su Wan, go buy a hundred cases of beer and have someone distribute them to the backpackers near the Majorica apartment. Tell them there will be a free movie and drinks on the beach at 2 a.m.
"Wu Gang, rent two open-top trucks, the roofs of which must be able to support 500 kilograms."
Wu Gang nodded, and his tall figure disappeared at the entrance of the underground parking garage.
……
1:45 a.m.
Martinez Hotel, Top Floor Executive Suite.
He Ping was wearing a dark blue silk nightgown, holding a crystal wine glass containing expensive Burgundy.
"Mr. He, they said from the projection room that Chen Yan took the copy away."
The secretary stood behind him, speaking in a relaxed tone.
He Ping took a sip of his wine and smiled contemptuously: "Young man, so impatient. He thinks it's a humiliation, but it's the last bit of dignity he can retain."
"The copyright bureau's letter will be delivered to the organizing committee at 8 o'clock sharp. If the lights in the hall come on and there is no one on stage, Chen Yan will be the biggest joke in Cannes history."
He Ping walked to the window and looked down at the coastline in the night.
More people appeared on the beach, carrying beer bottles, in twos and threes.
"A cornered beast's struggle, just spending money to buy some popularity."
The secretary shook her head dismissively.
He Ping put down his wine glass and glanced at his watch.
"His ghost show is about to start in fifteen minutes."
"Go and inform the other members of the judging panel, and don't forget to check the front page of tomorrow's newspaper for empty seats."
……
downstairs.
Two trucks quietly stopped beside the green belt 500 meters away from the hotel.
The canvas was pulled back, revealing the menacing muzzles of four enormous laser projectors.
Chen Yan stood in the back of the truck, the sea breeze lifting the hem of his clothes.
He raised his hand and glanced at his watch.
The second hand skips to the last tick.
1:59:50
"Warm-up".
A deep humming sound arose, and the cooling fans of the four machines began to spin wildly, filling the air with a scorching smell of ozone.
On the beach, Su Wan raised the megaphone towards the throng of heads moving in the darkness and shouted with all her might:
"Thunder is coming!"
A burst of beast-like whistles and cheers erupted from the crowd.
It's exactly 2 o'clock.
Inside the Lumière Hall, the lights went out on time.
The screen is blank.
And outdoors.
Four beams of light pierced the darkness and shot out suddenly from the top of the truck.
There was no loud noise.
Only light.
The pristine white south wall of the Martinez Hotel was instantly illuminated.
Giant image.
It is fifty meters long.
It was blatantly applied to the entire facade of the building.
Lin Qingqiu's face, magnified by a close-up shot and covered in mud and sweat, appeared at the most conspicuous location in Cannes.
next second.
The first rumble of thunder in the movie's opening sequence exploded from the car's giant sound system.
Infrasound waves rolled along the sea surface.
Inside the penthouse suite, the crystal wine glass in He Ping's hand shattered with a crisp sound due to the tremendous resonance.
Wine spilled all over his bathrobe.
He lunged toward the window.
The glass reflected Lin Qingqiu's eyes, filled with ruthlessness and resentment.
Hundreds of windows throughout the Martinez Hotel were suddenly flung open at the same time.
Countless people were jolted awake from their sleep, rubbing their eyes and looking out the window.
There was no red carpet, no judges' seats, only movie footage of the entire building shaking.
Chen Yan, supporting the scorching hot projector base, looked into the distance.
The figure standing by the top-floor window appeared pale and tiny under the laser beam.
"Since it's a ghost show," he slowly pushed up the volume switch, "then let the ghosts watch the show."
He Ping gripped the window frame, his body trembling so badly he could barely stand.
He looked at the dark figure standing on top of the truck.
It's Chen Yan.
In the shadow of the pillar of light, Chen Yan slowly raised his head, his gaze piercing through the darkness and locking onto the window on the top floor.
His lips moved.
Despite being 500 meters away in darkness, He Ping could clearly read the lip movements.
Two words.
Just started.
In the scene, Lin Qingqiu is seen dragging his injured leg and crawling in the rain, with every muscle twitching clearly visible.
The entire Crosette Avenue was deathly silent.
There was only the thunder, growing louder and louder.
The secretary rushed into the room, her face deathly pale: "Mr. He, Fazio from Gaomen is downstairs, he's shouting into the phone..."
"What are you shouting for?"
"He said he was withdrawing his bids for all films in the main competition! He was determined to acquire the global distribution rights to this film at all costs!"
He Ping's body slammed heavily onto the sofa.
He heard a rapid, frantic sound of footsteps rushing down the corridor toward his floor.
reporter.
Judges.
Those who were supposed to laugh at him tomorrow morning are now... laughing at him.
In the interplay of light and shadow on the wall, Chen Yan's silhouette was stretched extremely long by the laser.
Like a nail.
It was nailed into the ruins of this old era.