Chapter 0753: Wishful Thinking

In fact, when Jiang Wen and Lou Ye, those two goofballs, sat there with a straight face looking at him, Zhao Fusheng sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

At this moment, what flashed through his mind were immortal duos in history like Blue Mouse and Big Face Cat, Shuke and Beta, Tom and Jerry, and so on.

Well, with these two around, Zhao Fusheng already had a sense of what today's dinner party would be like.

It was another gathering of artistic old men.

"Yo, our great talent is here." The one who said this was naturally Lou Ye. Having spent over a month together with Zhao Fusheng by the Suzhou River in Shanghai, the two were very familiar with each other, so such jokes were acceptable.

Zhao Fusheng shot him a displeased look: "Where's Miss Zhou?"

Lou Ye had no romantic connection with Miss Zhou; he simply admired her talent. Zhao Fusheng felt the same—pure appreciation for Miss Zhou. The two hit it off immediately and quickly became fans of Miss Zhou, prompting her to joke that if she ever organized a fan club, she'd reserve the first two membership numbers for them.

"That girl will be here soon. You haven't seen me in so long, and you don't miss me? The first thing you ask about is her. Fusheng, you make me sad." Old Lou was also a joker.

Zhao Fusheng rolled his eyes at him: "Could you please wipe the grease off your mouth when you say you're sad? A sad person eating so much—aren't you afraid of bursting?"

"Hahaha!"

"Hahaha!"

Everyone at the table burst into laughter. Clearly, Zhao Fusheng's blunt retort suited their tastes.

These people, seemingly artistic, were all sharp cookies, each with plenty of tricks up their sleeves.

You see, throughout China's five thousand years of history, the most scheming were these cultured types. Even a single look or word could be spun into a story of a million words. So, if a girl wants to marry, she must not marry an artistic youth; otherwise, just guessing their fragile and convoluted thoughts could exhaust her to death.

Zhao Fusheng knew most of the people in the room. The few he didn't know, since they were sitting here, were not hard to get along with. After introductions, as expected, they were all from the sixth generation of filmmakers or artistic youths from the circle.

"Um, hello, I'm Li Yang."

At that moment, a middle-aged man who looked a few years older than Jiang Wen came up to Zhao Fusheng, extended his hand, and introduced himself.

Zhao Fusheng was startled and quickly stood up: "Director Li, hello."

He wasn't familiar with the man. When Jiang Wen introduced him earlier, he only said that this was an old-timer in the circle who had been studying abroad.

With Zhao Fusheng's meager memory of the film industry, he naturally didn't know what a formidable figure this was.

In fact, this middle-aged man in a leather jacket, looking somewhat down and out, had been admitted to the National Theatre in 1978, entered the Broadcasting Institute's directing department in 1985, but dropped out after two years. He then went to study art history at the Free University of Berlin in West Germany. Starting in 1990, he studied at the University of Munich's theater department. Three years later, he studied film and television directing at the Cologne Academy of Media Arts, earning a master's degree in audiovisual media.

During his studies, he shot three documentaries for German television: "Women's Kingdom" (documenting the Mosuo's walking marriage), "Joyful Swan Song" (documenting the Hani's festive funeral and their concept of death), and created the documentary "Scars" for the 50th anniversary of the War of Resistance.

In short, his achievements in the documentary field were comparable to Jiang Wen's in film.

Of course, Zhao Fusheng didn't know this. He was just surprised that Li Yang was so polite, since they weren't familiar and it was their first meeting; there was no need for such courtesy.

Li Yang didn't say much. He had a drink with Zhao Fusheng and returned to his seat. But based on his decades of life experience, Zhao Fusheng could tell that Li Yang clearly had something to say.

"What's going on?"

Zhao Fusheng asked Lou Ye in a low voice as he sat down to drink.

Old Lou, though not very reliable, was someone he could ask questions.

Lou Ye chuckled upon hearing this and glanced at Zhao Fusheng: "Kid, you probably don't know your own reputation yet, do you?"

"My reputation?" Zhao Fusheng looked puzzled, completely clueless about what Lou Ye was talking about.

"Ever since you wrote that script for Old Jiang and introduced me to Future Advertising for investment, you've become famous. Everyone says you're a loyal guy with a special love for art films." Lou Ye said with a smile.

Zhao Fusheng was stunned, staring at Lou Ye in surprise.

"That's right, that's how it's spreading outside." Lou Ye laughed and said to Zhao Fusheng.

Speechless, Zhao Fusheng glanced at Lou Ye and then at Jiang Wen, feeling he didn't even have the energy to complain.

He really wanted to shout to the heavens that he had nothing to do with these guys.

The label of artistic youth was something he must avoid at all costs!

While the two were whispering, the others around didn't react much. This kind of gathering was mostly like this—a few people chatting about their own things, occasionally looking up and toasting together.

Even Jiang Wen was now pulling Jia Ke aside, whispering about something.

"By the way, do you think my film can pass the censorship?"

Old Lou seemed particularly bored today, constantly coming over to Zhao Fusheng.

Zhao Fusheng rolled his eyes: "Old Lou, are you drunk?"

"What do you mean?" Lou Ye didn't understand.

With a wry smile, Zhao Fusheng gave him a look that said, "Figure it out yourself": "If you weren't drunk, why would you be talking nonsense?"

Given the content of "Suzhou River," how could it possibly pass censorship? Zhao Fusheng really didn't know where Lou Ye got the courage to ask that. Did Liang Jingru give him strength?

Hearing Zhao Fusheng's words, Lou Ye realized that his question had indeed been wishful thinking. He knew his own business; he knew what his film was like. As Zhao Fusheng said, unless the censors were collectively drunk, they'd have to be crazy to approve it.

"Alas..." Lou Ye sighed and shook his head. No matter how indifferent he was to whether his film made money, he still hoped it would be known to the public.

Artistic youths are human too; they have their own pursuits.