Chapter 29: Coming Up Empty?

Zheng Guolin and Fu Dalong stood on the award podium, holding their trophies high in the air for the cameras.

"Two Best Actors."

Ning Hao swallowed hard in secret. This was unprecedented!

In China, the first person to win Best Actor at Venice was Xia Yu, who won the Best Actor award at the 51st Venice International Film Festival in 1994 for the film *In the Heat of the Sun*, becoming the youngest Best Actor in the festival's history.

But for Zheng Guolin and Fu Dalong to both achieve legendary status with a single film—even Xia Yu couldn't match that.

"Terrifying, absolutely terrifying. Is Director Cheng Sheng filming a historical epic or an art film? How can he produce two Best Actors?" Ning Hao remarked, somewhat tongue-tied.

A miracle like this would likely never be replicated in China in the future!

There was simply no comparison.

Director Cheng Sheng was too incredible.

He was great at securing investment and great at filmmaking; he was practically invincible.

"It's not just that! There's still Best Director and Best Film coming up. If Director Cheng can snag even one of those, then aside from Zhang Guoshi and Chen Kai, there might truly be no one in China who can compare to him," Xing Aina said.

Ning Hao shook his head. "Impossible. Although the three major European awards seem fair, they are actually just about dividing the spoils. They gave *The Great Tang Dynasty: Origins* two Best Actor awards, but I doubt there will be anything left for him after this."

After hearing this, Xing Aina thought it made sense. After all, these were the unwritten rules of the industry. Domestic awards were much the same as international ones—everyone shares the spoils; no single entity can sweep all the major prizes.

...

After Fu Dalong and Zheng Guolin finished their acceptance speeches and stepped down from the stage, theoretically, the remaining three awards were to be presented.

These three awards were Best Director, the Jury Prize, and the Golden Lion for Best Film.

Best Director was an individual honor reflecting a director's ability, while the Jury Prize was considered the "second-best film," carrying slightly more weight than Best Director, though they were quite similar.

The true highest honor at Venice was Best Film, also known as the Golden Lion.

Winning that would be extraordinary.

"Director Cheng, Best Director is definitely yours," Su Chang whispered to Cheng Sheng.

Cheng Sheng smiled. Having secured two Best Actors and one Best Newcomer, he was actually satisfied.

Regarding the remaining three major awards, although he had expectations, he knew the likelihood was slim.

After all, it was impossible for Venice to award every single prize to one person.

Even as a newcomer, Cheng Sheng knew a bit about the unwritten rules of film festivals.

Thus, only a naive girl like Su Chang held expectations for the upcoming awards, while Cheng Sheng had already adopted a "let it be" attitude.

He was just waiting for the ceremony to end so he could sell the film's overseas distribution rights and immediately return to China to find Third Master Han to arrange the film's domestic premiere.

"The winner is... Kim Ki-duk's *Empty House*."

A win for the "Obasan" country!

Cheng Sheng frowned. He was very displeased with that shameless country.

He hadn't seen *Empty House*, so he didn't know how good it was, but given the moral character of that country, the awards they won were usually erotic films.

*Empty House*!

The name sounded a bit improper; it probably contained a lot of "color."

No wonder Westerners liked it. It was clearly aimed directly at Western tastes.

Although he was unhappy that a director from that country won, Cheng Sheng maintained a smile on his face and clapped along with the crowd.

Cheng Sheng not winning Best Director left the crew feeling slightly disappointed; Su Chang even offered him a few words of comfort.

Cheng Sheng, however, didn't care at all. Instead, he took Su Chang's Silver Lion award and toyed with it in his hands, thinking about how to sell his own film for a high price.

After Kim Ki-duk finished his speech, it was time for the Jury Prize.

"Alejandro Amenábar's *The Deep Sea Sleep*."

When Cheng Sheng heard the presenter announce the winner of the Jury Prize, he raised his head slightly.

Because his own film had interfered with the competition, *The Deep Sea Sleep* failed to win Best Actor, but the Jury Prize still went to that film. It seemed the film was truly excellent; otherwise, in another timeline, it might have won both Best Actor and the Jury Prize.

Cheng Sheng sighed inwardly and joined in the applause.

"The winner of Best Film is: Mike Leigh's *Vera Drake*..."

The Golden Lion went to *Vera Drake*. Although Cheng Sheng had expected this, he was still slightly disappointed.

After all, this was the highest honor at Venice. Being nominated was already good luck; he wondered if he could compete for it next time.

"What a pity."

As the assistant director, Liu Meng looked somewhat dejected and muttered under his breath.

"Director Cheng..."

Su Chang had originally intended to comfort him, but seeing that Cheng Sheng didn't seem particularly disappointed and instead appeared very calm, she was stunned.

"Director Cheng, it didn't work out this time, but try again next time. As long as you're making movies, we will invest," the wealthy coal boss sitting on Cheng Sheng's other side said magnanimously.

"Thanks, bosses. Then I won't be polite; I'll look for you for the next investment," Cheng Sheng smiled.

Thousands of kilometers away, on the set of *Shaolin Soccer* in China.

Hearing that Cheng Sheng hadn't won any more awards, Feng Dapao was overjoyed, punching the air in excitement.

If there hadn't been so many people on set, he would have popped champagne to celebrate.

"A pity," Liu Dehua shook his head secretly. If he had won the Golden Lion, this newcomer director would have undoubtedly become an overnight sensation.

However, even without the Golden Lion, he didn't doubt Director Cheng Sheng's ability. He thought to himself that he must find an opportunity to collaborate with Director Cheng Sheng on a film.

"Cheng Sheng isn't that great either! Su Chang winning Best Newcomer and Zheng Guolin and Fu Dalong winning Best Actor was due to their own talent; it has nothing to do with Cheng Sheng's ability. If he were truly capable, why didn't he take home Best Film!"

Liu Nacha was good at reading the room. Seeing Feng Dapao's happy expression, she immediately felt a surge of spite and began belittling Cheng Sheng.

"Exactly. What kind of ability could that brat Cheng Sheng have? Being nominated for the main competition at Venice this time was just pure luck. See? He was just there to fill the seats," Feng Dapao said with a wide grin.

In his heart, he was already thinking about posting something mocking Cheng Sheng once filming was over.

Hearing this, both Liu Dehua and Wang Bao's mouths twitched. A single film producing two Best Actors and a Best Newcomer—and that's "no ability"? That was *too much* ability.

If they could have acted in that film, it would have undoubtedly been a massive leap forward in their careers.

A Venice Best Actor—Liu Dehua had been acting for half his life, and he had only won the Hong Kong Film Award for Best Actor in 2000 with *Running on Karma*.

But compared to a Venice Best Actor, one was in the heavens and the other was on the ground.

The Hong Kong Film Award only had some fame domestically; internationally, it couldn't compare to a Venice Best Actor.

No, even domestically, the influence of the Hong Kong Film Awards couldn't match the Venice Film Festival.

It seemed that if one wanted to win awards internationally in the future, one had to find Cheng Sheng.

After all, if he could produce two international Best Actors, he could surely produce a third and a fourth...

(End of Chapter)