Chapter 0654 Suzhou River

If you have a chance to roll the dice, then no matter what, just roll it.

After all, if you roll the dice, there's always a chance to move forward one space; if you don't, you'll definitely stay where you are.

Zhao Fusheng remembered seeing a movie where the heroine, wearing a cheongsam, said this line in a hoarse voice—she was truly beautiful.

And now, that heroine stood before him, looking nervous and slightly immature.

She was really short, tiny, like a porcelain doll standing there, a bit shy, with a hint of intelligence in her brows.

"Hello, I'm Zhou Xun."

The girl spoke, her voice slightly low and husky, not as crisp as most girls' voices.

"Hello, I'm Zhao Fusheng."

Zhao Fusheng nodded, having greeted her.

"You know Xiaoxun?" Jiang Wen asked Zhao Fusheng in surprise.

"I've seen her on TV, and her photo was in an advertising proposal someone sent me before." Zhao Fusheng shrugged, looking indifferent.

No one found it surprising; both Jiang Wen and Lou Ye knew about his advertising skills. Zhou Xun was curious, but since she was still young, she could only sneak glances at Zhao Fusheng, clearly wondering who he was.

After all, Zhao Fusheng was definitely a bit younger than her.

That was a fact. Although Zhao Fusheng didn't understand why Lou Ye was still running around looking for investors for Suzhou River, which should have been made in 1998 according to original history, it was certain that without Suzhou River, Zhou Xun couldn't become the heroine. So Zhao Fusheng didn't mind listening to what Lou Ye had to say.

…

…

Zhao Fusheng thought he might see a script.

But to his surprise, Lou Ye, who liked to be called Old Lou by Zhao Fusheng, didn't bring it up at all and just happily ate.

Simply put, it seemed like they were just getting to know a friend through Jiang Wen's introduction.

Zhao Fusheng didn't mind either; he wasn't much of a talker. Apart from occasionally responding to Jiang Wen and Lou Ye, he spent most of the time eating.

Coincidentally, Zhou Xun did the same.

This woman seemed not to like talking, like an invisible person. Zhao Fusheng would occasionally chat with the two movie fanatics, but Zhou Xun simply didn't speak, silently eating, occasionally smiling when she heard something amusing.

"Why have you been making comedies lately?"

Lou Ye frowned and said to Jiang Wen.

In his view, Jiang Wen was simply degrading himself by abandoning literary films to make comedies.

Jiang Wen smiled. "The Film Bureau won't let me direct, but at least no one can stop me from making whatever I want, right?"

Lou Ye said, "That's true. Those people, hah..."

Clearly, this guy was experienced and had a thorough understanding of the Film Bureau's policies. No help for it—since his debut, most of Lou Ye's films had been banned. Compared to Jiang Wen, who had only been blacklisted once, Lou Ye had never been unbanned.

Speaking of which, Zhao Fusheng also admired Jiang Wen for knowing all these sixth-generation directors. He had already met people like Wang Xiaoshuai, but this was his first time meeting Lou Ye.

At this time, most so-called sixth-generation directors were representatives of banned films, like Jia Zhangke and Zhang Yuan. The one who later got cut off was just gliding on borrowed glory; you couldn't trust Baidu Baike.

Lou Ye was a standard literary youth. Unlike Jia Zhangke and Jiang Wen, who later compromised with reality, he always strove to maintain his artistic flair.

"By the way, Fusheng, can you put in a word at Future Advertising?"

Lou Ye seemed to finally remember the purpose of his visit and turned to Zhao Fusheng.

Zhao Fusheng smiled. "Where's the script?"

"Ah, here. Xiao Xun, get the script." Lou Ye turned to Zhou Xun and said.

Zhou Xun, who had been invisible all along, took the script from her small bag and handed it to Zhao Fusheng, her face full of anticipation.

Zhao Fusheng took the script, flipped through a few pages casually, and his expression instantly turned extremely strange.

No help for it—he couldn't understand it.

Zhao Fusheng couldn't grasp the kind of self-exile in the concrete jungle, the lavish purchase of cheap emotions and hollow thrills, yet knowing that 'nothing lasts forever,' contentedly indulging in temporary satisfaction within the symbols of love. He was even vague about the relationships among the four characters.

But he also understood that this was literary cinema, or rather, this was what such films were like.

These literary films basically had no box office; most were taken abroad to film festivals, won awards, and then sold foreign distribution rights to recoup costs. With luck, selling for a few hundred thousand US dollars could recover the initial production investment. If unlucky, the money would likely go down the drain.

That was why Lou Ye was running around looking for investors.

"Old Lou, can this film of yours be released domestically?" Zhao Fusheng thought for a moment and asked Lou Ye.

"No," Lou Ye answered honestly. "Originally, a friend wanted to invest, but I was afraid she couldn't bear it alone. After all, this film needs two to three million to invest. If it loses money, she'd go bankrupt."

Zhao Fusheng blinked, really wanting to mock the guy's bluntness.

So it was that he was afraid of letting his friend lose money alone, so he planned to find a sucker?

The film industry was a big battlefield. Though not as brutal as real war where bodies were destroyed, investing in films was indeed very risky. There had been investors who stood at the peak of life after one film and then queued on the rooftop for the next.

If you ran into absurd so-called great directors like Wong Kar-wai or Hou the Loser, being driven to bankruptcy wasn't impossible. Anyway, such things had happened. It was said that a certain great director once used a super luxurious star lineup in the mid-1990s to get tens of millions in investment, then made a film that most people couldn't understand—Ashes of Time. Though many years later it was revered as a supreme classic by countless literary youths, from a business perspective, Zhao Fusheng thought the film was complete nonsense, with even less commercial value than The Eagle Shooting Heroes, which had the same cast.

Now, Lou Ye placed a literary film before Zhao Fusheng, frankly admitting he needed investment from Future Advertising.

Looking at that guy, Zhao Fusheng suddenly wanted to ask him, could it be that I look like a sucker?