Chapter Sixteen: Ning Hao

At half past two in the afternoon, Gu Zhi finally signed the last novel brought by a fan. By then, many of the fans who had already gotten their books signed had left, and more than half the crowd had dispersed, leaving mostly students from the Beijing Film Academy.

During the signing, Gu Zhi noticed a few faces he often saw on screen in his previous life—Huang Haibo, Yao Chen, Hai Qing, Du Chun... and several others who looked familiar, though he couldn't recall their names. At this point, they were all still students at the Beijing Film Academy, some freshmen, some sophomores or juniors, and all older than Gu Zhi. Meeting future stars was a strange feeling; it was even stranger that they had all become his fans.

“Stars, stars—once you strip away that aura of mystery that keeps them at a distance, they're really not much different from ordinary people in real life.”

“These few are dressed rather flamboyantly; only Hai Qing looks a bit more conventional...”

Gu Zhi silently grumbled to himself.

After the signing, his right hand was so cramped it was almost paralyzed. He hadn't eaten all day, and his stomach felt completely hollow. He offered a few words of thanks to the remaining fans, urged them to get something to eat soon, and then left with the staff from the publishing house.

Originally, Guangming Daily Press had arranged a dinner for Gu Zhi, with Vice President He Jianping and several leaders from the Beijing Film Academy set to attend. The successful signing event at the academy was largely thanks to He Jianping, who had negotiated and coordinated with the school's administration. Out of duty and gratitude, Gu Zhi had readily agreed to the dinner at the time.

But now, after such a delay, there was no chance of keeping the appointment. Fortunately, the people invited were all reasonable; when the staff notified He Jianping, no one took offense. On the contrary, they praised Gu Zhi for his persistence and dedication at such a young age, saying he was truly worthy of being a representative of the nation's young writers.

People these days were straightforward and sincere. Right and wrong were clear in their own minds; no one would bear a grudge over something so trivial.

The official dinner was canceled, but Gu Zhi and the staff still needed to eat. The team had waited with him the entire time, all on empty stomachs, which was no small feat. In the end, Gu Zhi found a Northeast-style restaurant near the academy, booked a large private room, and treated everyone to a hearty meal.

Gu Zhi was easygoing, cracking a few dry jokes from time to time, making the gathering lively and warm. Everyone's affection for him grew considerably.

A few staffers who hadn't yet bought his novels declared over the meal that they'd buy both books as soon as they got back, which set off another round of laughter and cheerful banter.

After the late lunch, Gu Zhi went to see He Jianping again. After all, he had missed the publisher’s dinner—whatever the reason, an apology was due. After a few pleasantries, Gu Zhi asked He Jianping to accompany him back to the Beijing Film Academy. He wanted to apologize to the school leaders in person and take the opportunity to get acquainted.

Most of the academy’s leaders were veterans of the country's film and television industry. Though they might seem to lack influence, in reality, many stars and directors were their protégés. Making connections with such people—even just leaving a good impression—would only benefit his future in the industry.

More importantly, Gu Zhi had come to Beijing with the aim of finding a suitable director for his film, Butterfly Effect. He already had someone in mind, and as he recalled, this director was also a graduate of the Beijing Film Academy. This was the perfect opportunity to make inquiries.

Gu Zhi did not hide his intentions from He Jianping. With He’s help, they visited every department office in the academy, leaving no stone unturned. Fortunately, He Jianping had recently been promoted to vice president of the publishing house, expanding his network in the cultural and entertainment world. Otherwise, it would have been much harder to meet so many school officials so smoothly.

After making the rounds, Gu Zhi finally got the information he wanted. Surprisingly, the future renowned director he was searching for wasn’t from the directing department, but from cinematography.

“Ning Hao... That name rings a bell. Let me think,” said the head of the cinematography department, a middle-aged woman with glasses, frowning in thought. “Oh, yes, it’s him. Ning Hao is indeed a student of ours. He just graduated from Beijing Normal University last year and came here to study cinematography. Recently, through a school recommendation, he worked as an executive director for a TV series, and only came back a couple of days ago. You’re looking for him at just the right time.”

After getting Ning Hao’s dorm address from the department head, Gu Zhi parted ways with He Jianping and went to find Ning Hao on his own.

At that moment, Ning Hao was still lying fast asleep in a messy male dormitory. It was an old-fashioned four-person room, but now only Ning Hao lived there; the other roommates had long since moved out.

Most students who could attend the Beijing Film Academy came from good families and were quite attractive. Attending a campus filled with beautiful people, falling in love was the most natural thing. In the hormone-charged atmosphere of college, couples moving in together as early as freshman year were hardly rare.

Ning Hao’s hormones were no less than those of any other student. A year ago, while selling goods on Wangfujing Street, he’d met his current girlfriend. But they were both genuine drifters in the capital, with ordinary family backgrounds, and couldn’t afford to move out together.

Ning Hao had come to Beijing at twenty, starting as a bicycle assembler before finally being admitted to the film academy. The hardships of that journey were not easily digested. Now, at just twenty-three, his face already bore many wrinkles, making him look closer to thirty.

Being a director had always been his dream. A few months ago, thanks to a school recommendation and selection by investors, he became the executive director of a TV series called "The People." The executive director, in productions with multiple directors, is the one responsible for on-site shooting—sometimes called the "on-set director." To the crew, the executive director is the real director, controlling every shot's approval on set. For Ning Hao to direct a TV series at this stage was proof of his talent.

In the original course of history, it wasn’t until 2006, with the release of "Crazy Stone," that Ning Hao truly made his name. Before that, he had directed four TV series, two music videos, and three films, gaining some reputation in the industry, but remaining largely unknown to the public—always lukewarm, never breaking out.

Afterward, he went on to make a series of highly distinctive films—"Crazy Racer," "The Great Gold Robbery," "No Man’s Land," "Breakup Buddies"—all of them critically acclaimed and commercially successful. In particular, "Crazy Racer," released in 2009, grossed over 100 million at the box office, making Ning Hao the fourth mainland director after Zhang Yimou, Chen Kaige, and Feng Xiaogang to join the "100 Million Club." He was hailed as the new generation’s "maverick director."

Bitterness finally gave way to sweetness, as it should.

But now, it seemed those events were likely to change.

Knock, knock, knock...

Knock, knock, knock...

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Stop knocking, you’re driving me crazy!”

The persistent knocking roused Ning Hao from his sleep. With his hair a mess and eyes half-closed, he groggily opened the dormitory door.

Instead of the girlfriend he expected, he found a handsome young man standing there, smiling at him.

“Hmm, why does this person look so familiar?”