Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 19: Lesson 1 in Production

In winter in Yanjing, darkness falls without warning.

In the shabby little shop on the back street of Beijing Film Academy, the heating was only half-hearted, and the wind was blowing in through the cracks in the window, making the back of one's neck feel cold.

Chen Yan ordered two bowls of hot noodle soup and specifically asked the owner to add an extra fried egg to Su Wan's bowl.

When the noodles were served, Su Wan held her chopsticks but didn't touch them.

"Chen Yan, am I particularly useless?"

Her voice was very soft. "Today, Sister Lin sent someone to handle the reimbursement and airfare for Cannes. The form that the assistant handed me was completely in English, and I couldn't understand a single word of it. I was afraid that if I signed it wrong, it would cause you trouble, so I didn't dare to take it."

Chen Yan didn't say anything, and just took a sip of soup.

The noodle soup was extremely salty, and the pepper flavor was pungent, which was just enough to suppress the chill in my chest.

"It's not that you're useless, it's that you haven't gotten used to it yet."

Chen Yan put down his bowl, took a rough napkin to wipe his mouth, and said, "Su Wan, the director is responsible for dreaming, but someone has to be responsible for turning dreams into money. There has to be a pair of hands with knives off-camera to help me block those capitalists who want to tear up the script and those brokers who want to dig traps in the contract."

He paused, then looked up at Su Wan.

"I want to give these hands to you."

Su Wan was completely stunned. The tip of the noodle slipped into the bowl, splashing a few drops of soup.

"Me? I can't do it. I'm just a performance student, what would I know about these things..."

"If you don't understand, you can learn."

Chen Yan's tone wasn't harsh, but it struck her like a nail: "Tomorrow morning, Lin Shufen's distribution team will be here for a proper preliminary contract review. You'll be coming with me."

The next morning, the sky was heavily overcast.

The office buildings near Xidan are filled with the smell of old tobacco and printer toner in their stairwells.

Three people were already seated on either side of the long table.

The fat guy in the lead was called Lao Xu. He was a key member of Lin Shufen's distribution team and a well-known veteran in the industry.

A thick stack of contracts lay in front of him. When Chen Yan entered, he merely raised his eyelids slightly, tapping his pen on the table.

"Director Chen, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Old Xu gave a forced smile, his voice hoarse, "President Lin has already given instructions. But let's be clear from the start: art is art, and business is business."

Chen Yan pulled out a chair and casually pressed Su Wan into the seat next to him.

Su Wan's palms were sweaty; she dared not look at Lao Xu's face, which was squeezed into a slit by his flesh.

"This is Su Wan, my producer."

Chen Yan leaned back in his chair, casually picked up a brochure from the table and flipped through it, looking completely unconcerned. "She'll discuss the contract details with you today."

Old Xu stopped typing.

He looked Su Wan up and down, and seeing her still somewhat student-like appearance, he chuckled.

"Director Chen, are you kidding me? This contract involves the splitting of European copyrights, deductions for format conversion costs, and advance payments for public relations expenses in Cannes. Young lady, do you understand?"

Su Wan's face flushed instantly, reaching the roots of her neck. She opened her mouth, but couldn't utter a single word.

"Don't rush, take your time."

Old Xu slammed a contract in front of Su Wan, the papers scattering with a rustling sound. His tone turned cold. "This is the initial agency agreement. Out of consideration for our shared alma mater, President Lin has reduced your global agency commission to 25%. But on the condition that all public relations and translation fees during the film festival be deducted from your later revenue share. Furthermore, our company will buy out the domestic VCD and DVD rights."

The words "buyout" made Su Wan's heart tighten.

She knew this wasn't a good term, and she thought twenty-five points was ridiculously high, but how could she refute it? Her mind was a complete mess.

When Lao Xu saw that she didn't respond, he turned to Chen Yan.

"Director Chen, what do you think? If the producer has no objections, shall we sign this letter of intent? President Lin is still waiting for a reply."

Chen Yan didn't even look up, as if he were studying an old movie poster in a brochure.

The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Su Wan looked to Chen Yan for help, but he didn't even glance at her.

The smell of being roasted over a fire made her nose sting with tears.

Old Xu's disdainful look and the inquisitive chatter of the assistants beside her all fell on her, making her feel even more uncomfortable.

"I...we need to go back and discuss it."

After holding it in for a long time, Su Wan finally managed to squeeze out this sentence.

"Okay."

Old Xu chuckled and tossed his pen onto the table. "But Director Chen, there's a deadline for sending materials to Cannes. If we drag this out for another three to five days and still haven't reached an agreement, the title of opening film will be in jeopardy. There are plenty of people in the industry who want to get their films in."

As Su Wan stepped out of the office building, a gust of cold wind swept over her, causing her to sway.

"Chen Yan, did I mess this up?"

Her voice was trembling with tears, "That old Xu, he's just... Maybe you should talk to Sister Lin, or find a professional."

Chen Yan stopped and turned around.

"A professional?"

He reached out and gently tucked her wind-blown hair behind her ear, his movements light but his words harsh. "Su Wan, if you had signed that document, I would have worked for nothing for the past six months. The public relations fee alone would have swallowed half of our profits. Old Xu isn't looking down on you; he's testing my limits."

Su Wan lowered her head, "But I really can't hold on."

"Walk."

Chen Yan didn't waste any more words. He took her back to the Beijing Film Academy by taxi and led her directly to the empty auditorium.

The auditorium was dark, and a sliver of sunlight filtering through from the center of the stage shone on the worn red velvet curtain.

Chen Yan pulled her to the edge of the stage and pointed to the rows of dark seats below.

"Look here."

His voice echoed in the empty auditorium, "From now on, my films will be shown here, and in Cannes, in the Lumière Hall. Thousands upon thousands of people will sit below, watching you on the screen. Will you be a puppet who only cries in front of the camera, or the one who decides whether a film will be shown?"

Su Wan looked down at the audience; the rows of chairs looked like silent mouths, ready to swallow her whole.

"I'm a director, and my life depends on every single frame. I can't edit a film while simultaneously guarding against someone like Lao Xu stabbing me in the back."

Chen Yan placed his hand on her shoulder, his grip firm. "If you can't hold on, I'll call Lin Shufen right now and ask for a replacement. But then, I'll have no one I can trust anymore. You choose."

Su Wan's body was trembling.

She thought of her hardworking mother in the hospital, her father who was still in critical condition, and Chen Yan's back as he gambled with Lu Haiming for 600,000 yuan.

She raised her hand to wipe away the tears on her face, dried her eyes, and a fierce determination emanated from her very bones.

"I won't leave. You teach me."

That night, the lights in Chen Yan's small rented room stayed on until 3 a.m.

Several case contracts from previous international releases were laid out on the table; these were invaluable internal documents back then.

"Look here, the commission rate."

Chen Yan drew a circle on the paper with a pencil. "Twenty-five points is for those smaller films that weren't shortlisted. We're the opening film. Lin Shufen wants fame, we want profit. Fifteen points is her bottom line. If you stick to eighteen points, she'll feel like she got a bargain."

"And this, the public relations expenses will be deducted in advance. Tell Lao Xu that the money can be paid, but every transaction must be audited and signed by a third party, and the buyer will pay after the film sales contract takes effect. This is not begging him, but teaching him the rules."

Su Wan took out her pen and quickly wrote down notes in her notebook.

The snow started falling outside the window again.

The lamplight illuminated Su Wan's profile, and she was slowly pulling herself up. The process was painful, but it was the only way.

The following afternoon, Su Wan walked into Lin Shufen's office again.

Old Xu was still sitting there, holding that ballpoint pen in his hand.

"Oh, Miss Su is here again?"

He shoved the letter of intent towards him with a forced smile. "Have you reached an agreement? Why isn't Director Chen here today?"

"Director Chen is overseeing post-production and can't leave."

Su Wan sat down, ignoring Lao Xu, and opened her laptop directly.

She opened the notebook swiftly.

She pulled a stack of reports from her bag; they were simulation models she had worked on all night.

"Teacher Xu, I have a few objections to yesterday's agreement."

Su Wan spoke, her voice low but steady, "First of all, a distribution fee of 25% is too high. Last year at Cannes, for films of similar caliber like 'Devils on the Doorstep,' the distribution fee didn't exceed 20%. Mr. Lin knows the quality of Director Chen's work. This isn't just business; it's also about enhancing Mr. Lin's company's reputation. 18% is our sincerity."

Old Xu stopped typing.

"Secondly, we do not accept the pre-deduction of public relations expenses."

Su Wan didn't give him a chance to interrupt. "All advertising expenses must be confirmed by both parties and paid by the overseas buyer after the transaction tax. We need to see an audit report, not a handwritten receipt."

Old Xu sneered, "Young lady, that's not how you do it. What if nobody buys it? Our advertising expenses would be wasted!"

"If 'The Night Watch' doesn't sell in Cannes, it just means that Mr. Lin's marketing team is just going through the motions."

Su Wan raised her face, her voice carrying the same mockery Chen Yan had, "Teacher Xu, if you don't have confidence in yourself, let's settle the bill now and talk to another place."

Old Xu was completely stunned. He never expected that the little girl who couldn't even speak properly yesterday would be so difficult to deal with today.

He turned to look at Lin Shufen, who had been sitting in the back without saying a word.

Lin Shufen, dressed in a burgundy suit and holding a coffee, watched the scene with great interest.

She put down her coffee cup, and the soft clinking of the porcelain against the table made Lao Xu shrink back.

"Old Xu, draft a new contract as Miss Su suggested."

Lin Shufen stood up, walked over to Su Wan in her high heels, and extended her hand. "Miss Su, Chen Yan has good taste. With your personality, you're more suited to this industry than him."

As I left the office building, it was getting late.

Su Wan stood on the steps, her legs a little weak, but she felt more at ease than ever before.

She took out her phone and sent a message to Chen Yan.

The deal is done, 18 points.

A moment later, a message came back.

Don't cook noodles tonight, I'll take you out for a nice meal.

Su Wan looked at the screen and smiled; this time, she didn't shed a tear.

Meanwhile, Haiming Film & Television.

With a gloomy face, Lu Haiming threw an investigation report into the shredder.

The report contained records of Su Wan's frequent visits to Lin Shufen's company.

"Producer? Chen Yan, you think you can shield me from this by using a virgin as a shield?"

He picked up the phone.

"Hey, get in touch with Pierre of the Cannes Film Selection Committee for me. Tell him I have some documentary footage about a crime on a rainy night in the East and I'd like to talk to him about film ethics."

Meanwhile, in Chen Yan's rented room.

Lin Shufen's message has also arrived.

[You've corrupted this girl; she's even more ruthless than you. Lu Haiming is trying to find out Pierre's private contact information. Is there any issue with the security of your short film?]

Chen Yan put down his phone and glanced at the unfinished master tape on the table.

On a rainy night, the lamplight flickers, and countless eyes peer out into the darkness.

He walked to the window; snow was still falling outside.

"Pierre..."

Chen Yan murmured the name, and memories of his past life surfaced. The secret about Pierre's wife was his true trump card in Cannes.