The Most Popular in the Nation, Part 2

"How could *Romance on Mount Lu* possibly win an award?" "Did you make a mistake? How could the masses let a film like that win, and let an actress with such strong bourgeois imagery take Best Actress?" The hall was packed with figures from the authorities, cultural organizations, and critical circles. Among those seated below were several who had harshly denounced *Romance on Mount Lu* when it first came out, their faces stamped with the self-righteous scowl of: *The masses don't make mistakes; you people must have manipulated this behind closed doors.* Being colleagues in the same field, Yuan Wenshu didn't want to confront them bluntly. Instead, he summoned an editor from *Popular Cinema* directly and asked, "What was Gong Xue's vote count?" "We never make the numbers public." "It's fine. This comrade has objections, so just explain it to him." "All right! For this year's Hundred Flowers Awards, we received over two million ballots in total. Gong Xue took 1.26 million votes. Second place was Wang Fuli with 150,000, and third place was Zhang Yu with 140,000." "You see? We are entirely fair and just. The eyes of the masses are sharp and clear!" Yuan Wenshu smiled. "The masses aren't necessarily right!" The man huffed, looking thoroughly discomfited. Yuan Wenshu shook his head. So many old comrades simply couldn't turn their thinking around, their minds still stuck in the past of several years ago. As a leader of the Film Association, he was actually very pleased with this edition's balloting. It was precisely because *Romance on Mount Lu* had generated such immense buzz that it drew over two million votes. Had the film itself been mediocre, the audience's enthusiasm for voting would never have run so high. The two complemented each other. Just like how, in the future, Ge You would win the Hundred Flowers Award four times and Feng Pants would win it eight times—wasn't it because amid that sea of mainstream propaganda films back then, they were the ones who delivered the only enjoyable commercial movies? Audiences were only enthusiastic about voting for them. Having stepped off the stage, Gong Xue hurried back to her seat and eagerly shoved both the trophy and certificate into Chen Qi's hands. "For you!" "Why are you giving them to me?" "Without your guidance, I would never have achieved what I did today." She looked unusually earnest. Chen Qi chuckled. "It's too early to say that. There's still another award!" "Don't even dream about it," she whispered. "I've already won one. Why would they give me a second?" "Just wait and see. What if you win? I intend to build you into the most popular actress in the country, so you have to take both awards. As the saying goes: *A drumbeat spurs them forward; the second flags; the third is spent.* If you don't take it now, your momentum will stall, and you'll have to wait for the next chance..." "Shh!" His voice had risen slightly. Gong Xue hushed him at once, lowering her voice even further. "I'm already more than satisfied with one. How could I be lucky enough to get both?" Though she said so, her heart was thumping in her chest, unable to suppress a flutter of anticipation. With the Hundred Flowers Awards concluded, the Golden Rooster Awards followed immediately. Just as before, a single presenter stepped onto the stage, held a list, and rattled off the names one after another. Chen Qi could hardly bear to watch. It felt like handing out certificates for model students, devoid of any real sense of ceremony. Yet to the people of this era, it was already an immensely grand occasion, and everyone sat on pins and needles. Those whose names were called jumped straight out of their seats, while those who heard nothing looked crestfallen and dazed. *Three Monks* won Best Animated Film. Xie Jin won Best Director for *Legend of Tianyun Mountain*. Best Screenplay went to *Evening Rain*, a quintessential Scar drama: The story took place on a passenger ship, where a group of people from diverse backgrounds shared a single cabin: a Peking Opera performer who had been denounced, a rural elderly woman, a schoolteacher, a girl who had been sold, a disgraced poet, and the young Red Guard escorting the poet... Through arguments and conflict, the young Red Guard suddenly saw the light and realized that all of this was wrong! It bore all the distinct hallmarks of its era. If that weren't enough, what was truly bizarre was that they hadn't separated Best Supporting Actor and Best Supporting Actress. Instead, they had concocted a collective award for Best Supporting Cast and handed it to six actors from *Evening Rain*! "How unprofessional can you get! It just shows there's no reasonable judging mechanism whatsoever—they just make it up as they go!" "It's like a farce!" Chen Qi couldn't stop grumbling under his breath. "Best Costume Design: *Romance on Mount Lu*!" When the award was suddenly called, Chen Qi raised an eyebrow. Historically, *Romance on Mount Lu* had never won this award. The butterfly was flapping its wings again. Could he start hoping for Best Actress too? The announcements continued. "Best Actor... uh, vacant!" A buzz of chatter broke out! Whispers erupted across the audience. The person on stage even added an explanation: "After careful deliberation, the judging committee would rather leave the award vacant than compromise standards. This is precisely a rigorous and impartial approach, and everyone should encourage it." "Next is Best Actress. Our audience friends must be eagerly anticipating this one!" The announcer deliberately drew out the suspense. "..." Chen Qi leaned forward to glance at Zhang Yu. Zhang Yu was squirming in her seat, utterly on edge, completely unaware that her destiny had shifted. In history, she had won the Best Actress crown on the strength of her dual performance in both *Romance on Mount Lu* and *Evening Rain*. Now that the two roles were split—she had one and Gong Xue had the other—Chen Qi wasn't sure who would receive it. Yuan Wenshu watched the stage, recalling the committee meeting from that day. When the votes were tallied and he saw the result, he had smiled knowingly. None of them were fools; they knew cinema wasn't just cinema—there were plenty of off-screen factors at play. "Best Actress: Gong Xue, *Romance on Mount Lu*!" *Clap, clap, clap!* Applause erupted in an instant, louder and more passionate than at any point before. Some spectators in the back rows even jumped to their feet. They didn't understand the intricacies of judging criteria; all they knew was that awarding the prize to the goddess of their hearts was the right choice. "..." Gong Xue's mouth opened slightly, her eyes widening in disbelief. She froze. Underneath the seats, Chen Qi nudged her foot and urged, "Wake up, wake up! Get up there!" Only then did she rise in a daze, wearing an expression of complete incredulity, and walked onto the stage alongside a large group of fellow honorees. Meanwhile, Zhang Yu let out a long breath, deflating like a punctured balloon. Her fame couldn't compare to Gong Xue's in the first place. Having nurtured some faint hope earlier, she now felt an odd wave of relief wash over her. *Ah, as expected, it wasn't meant to be.* After the winners had received their awards and had their photos taken on stage, Gong Xue stayed behind. Facing a standalone microphone, holding the Golden Rooster statuette in her left hand and clutching the certificate of honor in her right, she finally understood why she had been asked to speak on behalf of all the actors. "I would like to thank the organizers of this conference, the Film Association, the judging committee, and..." The speech had been vetted beforehand, filled with standard formulaic platitudes, and all she had to do was recite it from memory. But suddenly, a strong urge welled up within her to add something, and with tremendous courage, she said, "...and my heartfelt thanks to Comrade Chen Qi, our screenwriter, and Director Wang Haowei..." "As cinematic workers of the new era, we will redouble our efforts, live up to the expectations of the Party and the masses, and create more and even better works of art!" *Clap, clap, clap!* Applauding from below, Yuan Wenshu turned his head and murmured, "Is it really fine for her to say that? She's speaking on behalf of the actors—why is she thanking specific individuals?" "She was probably caught up in the moment. It's understandable. After all, it was just a quick mention, nothing more." "Still, someone should mention it to her so she's more careful next time!" Her speech over, Gong Xue returned to her seat. She buried her head low, covering her face with her hands, her shoulders trembling faintly, whether crying or laughing, one couldn't tell. In full view of the public, Chen Qi couldn't comfortably reach out to comfort her, so he looked pleadingly at Wang Haowei. Wang Haowei wrapped an arm around Gong Xue's shoulders and whispered soothing words for a long while before Gong Xue finally sat up, her eyes rimmed with red. "How does it feel?" a familiar teasing voice whispered into her ear. "How does what feel?" she asked self-consciously, wiping away her tears. "How does it feel to take two awards? Didn't I tell you? When I said you'd be the biggest star, you really became the biggest star!" Chen Qi nudged the Hundred Flowers trophy forward. As if in telepathic sync, Gong Xue tilted her Golden Rooster statuette, and with a soft *clink*, the two trophies tapped together, producing a melodious ring like glasses clinking in a toast.