Chapter 119: You Script, I Direct

Chapter 119: You Write, I Direct

"A new film?" Chen Ke asked with a hint of confusion, then chuckled. "I think you’ve poured all your energy into *Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon*. While I’m considered a prolific director, even I find it difficult to maintain a pace of one film per year these days. As for a new project for me? It’s not even a glint in my eye yet."

"Haha!" Zhang Le gave an awkward laugh. There were many directors who could churn out a film a year, but to maintain the quality and scale of someone like Chen Ke, producing a masterpiece every two years was already quite an achievement.

Moreover, every film Chen Ke touched was a major undertaking; setting aside the actual filming, the pre-production alone could take six months or more. Furthermore, a director of his stature didn’t just pick up any script that came his way. He might have plenty of good scripts on his desk, but they had to truly move him.

"How about we collaborate?" Chen Ke suggested suddenly.

"Collaborate?" Zhang Le was surprised, then smiled. "Sure! But this time, I’ll direct, and you act."

Zhang Le’s teasing remark was clearly a polite refusal.

Chen Ke paused, then shook his head with a smile. "You are a born director. All directors want to film according to their own vision—I know that feeling all too well. Unless you’re directing yourself, I doubt you’d even do a cameo in someone else’s film. I’m not talking about me directing you or you directing me."

"Oh? What kind of collaboration then?" Zhang Le’s interest was piqued. After all, Chen Ke was the country’s premier director with immense box-office appeal. Anyone would be interested in working with him.

"You write, I direct. How about a partnership between my studio and your Xinle Film?" Chen Ke proposed.

"No problem! Whatever genre you want, I’ll surely provide a script that satisfies you. Once you’re happy with the script, we can discuss the details of the collaboration, how about that?" Zhang Le’s eyes lit up. He had so many classic films in his mind that he couldn't possibly film them all in a lifetime. Chen Ke’s directing prowess was entirely trustworthy, and collaborating with him was certainly a good thing.

"Genre? As long as the script is good, the genre doesn't matter to me," Chen Ke said with a smile. He was genuinely looking forward to Zhang Le’s screenwriting abilities. Although the films Zhang Le had released so far were mostly low-budget, they demonstrated a masterful grasp of the market.

Of course, the reason Chen Ke had this idea was that his two old friends, Ye Ming and Bao Zhen, had spoken so highly of Zhang Le’s new film, *Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon*. That was precisely why he had asked about its release date the moment he saw Zhang Le—his curiosity had been thoroughly piqued by his friends. If a script could convince another old friend of his to turn down a big-budget Hollywood offer to return home and film it, how bad could the writing be? Given his understanding of Zhang Le, the fact that he dared to cast Jet Li in a film reportedly costing nearly 200 million meant he must have absolute confidence.

Another significant reason Chen Ke sought this collaboration was that he had hit a creative bottleneck. He wanted to use the ideas of this young director to find a breakthrough.

Zhang Le nodded with a smile, though images of films were flashing through his mind—not the most critically acclaimed ones, but those with the highest box-office potential. After some mental filtering, he considered *Jurassic Park*, but quickly shook his head. It wasn't that he doubted Chen Ke’s ability to direct it, nor that he wanted to direct it himself. It was the money! *Jurassic Park* would be a box-office juggernaut, and Zhang Le believed it would stun the world, raking in countless riches. But the investment required was too vast; he simply didn't have that kind of capital right now. He didn't want to share such a lucrative goldmine with other investors if he didn't have to.

Zhang Le sat in silence, mulling it over. Meanwhile, the rest of the *No Way Out* crew began to arrive. Chow Yun-fat was away shooting another film and, lacking a nomination this time, was not in attendance.

The awards ceremony began. *No Way Out* had three nominations. It failed to win Best Screenplay, but Chen Dong’s stunt team took home Best Action Choreography, meaning Zhang Le wouldn't be leaving empty-handed. However, Zhang Le paid little attention to this, his mind still preoccupied with calculating the pros and cons of different scripts. Finally, he locked his focus on a specific Hollywood action film. It had been a North American box-office champion in his past life; while the total wasn't astronomical, the return on investment was incredible, and the critical reception was stellar.

"Ah Le! Ah Le!"

Zhang Le snapped out of his thoughts and looked at Chen Ke, confused. Chen Ke’s expression was odd, as were the expressions of those around him. Zhang Le glanced around and realized he had become the focus of the entire venue. Ah, the big screen on stage was showing his face. He was being filmed!

A possibility dawned on him, and just then, Yang Xin'er whispered, "Go on stage to accept your award!"

Getting distracted at an awards ceremony to the point of not hearing one’s own name called—Zhang Le had surely set a record that would be hard to beat.

"The winner of this year's Best Supporting Actor is... *No Way Out*, Zhang Le!" the presenter announced with a smile.

Zhang Le gave an awkward grin, stood up, and walked toward the stage.

"Thank you!"

Taking the golden statuette, Zhang Le stood before the microphone and smiled. "This is my first time acting, and I truly didn't have much confidence in my performance. So, I never expected to win this. I was lost in thought just now, purely to avoid the disappointment I felt last time I didn't win. It was a bit of self-deception, I suppose."

The audience let out a gentle, knowing laugh. Whether he was truly distracted or not, no one would dig too deep—they were just here for the show.

Zhang Le held up the statuette and continued, "Winning this is an unexpected surprise. Thank you to the organizers, thank you to Director Chen, thank you to my girlfriend Yang Xin'er, and thank you to everyone who has supported and helped me. Now that my acting has been recognized, I hope one day my films will be recognized by you all as well. Thank you!"

As he walked off the stage, applause filled the room. Whether that applause was supportive, polite, or a response to his candid words, it didn't matter. Everyone could tell that Zhang Le didn't place much importance on the Best Supporting Actor award—his distraction during the announcement was proof enough. And it seemed, perhaps, that he still held a grudge about going home empty-handed last year.