Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 91

From the first to the fifth day of the Lunar New Year, Ran Lin’s promotional activities were non-stop. It wasn’t until the sixth day that he finally got a half-day rest before hurrying back to Dream Without Limits to pay a New Year’s visit to the boss. The boss was all smiles, obviously having had a very satisfying holiday, and didn’t skimp on giving him a hefty red packet as both acknowledgment of the past year’s work and encouragement for the new one.

Ran Lin felt a bit guilty accepting the red packet.

He then went to Wang Xi’s office with the red packet and broached the subject with his agent. “How about we discuss the termination now? The sooner we bring it up, the more time the company has to prepare. It doesn’t seem right to suddenly say we’re not renewing when the contract is about to expire.”

Wang Xi stopped her work and looked at him resignedly. “If you propose to terminate the contract now, there’s only one outcome.”

Ran Lin leaned forward across the desk, whispering like a thief, “What outcome?”

Wang Xi smacked her forehead with annoyance. “You’ll be shelved.”

Ran Lin frowned. “There are only a few months left. What’s the point of shelving me now…”

“You still have <Dyeing Fire> after <Chronicles of Winter>, right? They might not let you promote it or go on any shows.” Wang Xi gave him a sideways glance. “What would you do then?”

Ran Lin was speechless; he indeed had no solution.

“So, listen to your Xi Jie. I’m never wrong.” Wang Xi took a sip of water, a bit relieved.

Seeing the fatigue that Wang Xi couldn’t hide on her face, Ran Lin hesitated slightly before saying, “I want to always listen to you.” The statement came abruptly, without any preamble, leaving Wang Xi slightly stunned. She set down her cup and fixed her gaze on Ran Lin for a while before narrowing her eyes suddenly. “Liu Wanwan.”

Without any guesswork or questioning, her tone was one of absolute certainty. Ran Lin mentally apologized to his assistant before blatantly throwing her under the bus. “Yeah.”

Wang Xi rolled her eyes. Though she never intended to keep it a secret from Ran Lin, it was just that the team had been so busy since the decision was made that there hadn’t been an appropriate moment to bring it up. “I’m tired. I want to take a break for myself.”

“Then I’ll wait for you to come back,” Ran Lin said sincerely. “You’re not going to change careers after your break, are you?”

Wang Xi chuckled, standing up to lower all the blinds in the office, shutting out prying eyes. When she sat back down, her shoulders relaxed, losing the sharpness of her usual working demeanor and even adopting a lazy tone as if they weren’t in an office but some private space, chatting casually. “I haven’t taken a proper vacation since I started in this industry. This time, I want to make up for twenty years of missed holidays. Maybe I won’t come back and just retire.”

Ran Lin looked at her speechlessly.

Wang Xi laughed, ruffling his hair. “You deserve a better partner. Neither I nor Dream Without Limits are enough.”

Ran Lin felt reluctant to let her go, wanting to say something to persuade her, but seeing the peace and relaxation in Wang Xi’s eyes, the comfort of momentarily stepping away from work, he swallowed back his words.

Everyone makes choices and changes at some stage in their life. Taking a long break, slowing down, and thoroughly enjoying life was what Wang Xi wanted now, and as a friend, all he could do was wish her well.

“Stop with the farewell melancholy,” Wang Xi teased him with a smile. “I’m not leaving yet. What you should be focusing on now are the upcoming promotions. Even a slight lapse could give <Mint Green> a chance to overtake.”

The ongoing battle between <Mint Green> and <Chronicles of Winter> since their release could indeed be described as tumultuous. On the first and second days, <Mint Green> was leading in box office while lagging behind in website ratings, receiving mixed reviews. In contrast, <Chronicles of Winter> received more favorable ones.

The turning point came on the third day. That day, <Chronicles of Winter> completely overtook <Mint Green> in box office, and though the final numbers for the day weren’t out yet, it was clear from the real-time data that it had surpassed <Mint Green>. Coupled with the successful word-of-mouth marketing of <Chronicles of Winter>, a future of both critical and box office success seemed almost certain.

However, on that very night, a long blog post made it to the hot search, bluntly titled [Chronicles of Winter KO Mint Green, Winning Where?] Describing it as a KO, the post really went all out praising <Chronicles of Winter> while criticizing <Mint Green>. Despite the seemingly neutral and objective writing style, it was riddled with sharp points—

[First, style. <Chronicles of Winter> fits the New Year’s Day viewing preference—a blockbuster. Historically, on New Year’s Day, special effects films rarely flop, even if the plot is weak. As long as the effects are decent, they can garner a good box office. Moreover, <Chronicles of Winter> is one of the few domestic blockbusters in recent years that has bolstered both storyline and effects. Such films leave the audience feeling more festive, exhilarated, and satisfied as they walk out of the cinema. In contrast, <Mint Green’s> style is more delicate, emotional, and nuanced in capturing the subtleties of adolescence. However, during the festive season, how many are willing to slow down to appreciate the “confusion of adolescence” the film wants to convey? Regardless of its quality, in terms of style alone, an entertainment blockbuster VS a youth emotion film, the former is a sure win.]

[Second, story. The main theme of <Chronicles of Winter> is rebellion, freedom, and the relentless pursuit of truth and defiance against fate. Such themes are simple, direct, and spirited, understandable and relatable to everyone. It even allows viewers to vicariously satisfy the regret of not being able to defy fate in real life and find comfort. <Mint Green’s> story, as mentioned in the first point, is about the ‘confusion of adolescence,’ but that’s specific to the post-90s and post-00s. What about the 70s and 80s generations? Are they supposed to watch their children’s adolescence in the cinema? Each generation has its unique mark of youth, and no youth film can transcend age groups—a congenital limitation, which also means <Mint Green> can’t resonate with a wider audience compared to <Chronicles of Winter>.]

[Third, film adaptation. <Chronicles of Winter> perfectly inherited the original novel’s spirit while boldly modifying several less impressive scenes from the original. This made it more conducive to film adaptation without changing the original storyline and character traits, making the whole film’s progression more natural, tighter, and interlinked, almost entirely without dull moments. <Mint Green>, on the contrary, was reluctant or perhaps afraid to make changes to the original. Besides some basic subtractions, such as removing some irrelevant subplots from the original, almost everything was retained, making the whole movie a “translated novel”. For those who have read the original, watching the movie offers no surprises…]

[Fourth…]

As expected, it didn’t take long after this hot search went up for well-known film critics to express their disagreement, stepping in to counter the claims—

[First of all, both <Chronicles of Winter> and <Mint Green> are among the better domestic productions in recent years. The former is fluid with stunning effects, and the latter has tender and sincere emotional expression. They are inherently different kinds of films, like drinking cola doesn’t affect enjoying salad; unfortunately, both targeting the New Year’s slot inevitably leads to comparison. But there’s a decent way to compare, and disparagement is unsightly.]

[First, style. Who says you can’t watch sensitive, realistic films during the New Year? So if I want to contemplate youth and life during the holidays, I’m being antisocial? Furthermore…]

[Second, story. According to your “emotional resonance theory”, many films need not be made at all. If I watch a crime film without having committed or experienced crime, am I unqualified to watch it because there’s no resonance? The same goes for horror films; after all, none of us have met psychopaths or fake ghosts… Here lies your most basic and fatal narrow-mindedness: a truly good film will convey what it wants to express and earn audience resonance with its quality, not the other way around, choosing a subject or theme you think will resonate and then constructing a story around it…]

[Third, I don’t even feel like addressing your point. So being loyal to the original is a flaw in film adaptation? Why did the producers buy the rights in the first place? They could have just made up their own story. Not that adaptation doesn’t allow for creative reinvention, and <Chronicles of Winter> itself does a decent job at that, but it seems rather ungrateful to both want to capitalize on the IP’s popularity and brag about how many of the original’s “flaws” were changed…]

By the end, the famous critic almost treated the “KO” blog post as if it were a move made by the <Chronicles of Winter> promotional team, so the criticism wasn’t just of the blog but the promotional tactics of <Chronicles of Winter>, which they found distasteful.

As the saying goes, too much of a good thing can be bad. Even if something is genuinely good, overpraising it can cause backlash, and thus <Chronicles of Winter>, which had been suppressing <Mint Green> in reputation for the first two days, started to face public recoil with this argument.

And from there on, <Mint Green> began to garner more affirmation and praise.

Ran Lin didn’t believe that the long blog post was the doing of the <Chronicles of Winter> promotion team because it seemed rather foolish. This hot search not only damaged the reputation of <Chronicles of Winter> but also garnered sympathy for <Mint Green>, further rallying fans of both the original novel and the film adaptation of <Mint Green> as many began strongly recommending it on their homepages. Wang Xi shared this sentiment, thus leaning more towards the possibility that it was a maneuver by <Mint Green>.

Regardless of the truth, three days later, on the sixth day of the new year, <Mint Green’s> rating had risen to 7.4, while <Chronicles of Winter> dropped to 7.4, marking the first time the two films tied in ratings since their release.

However, in terms of box office, the 3D film <Chronicles of Winter> slowly began to reveal its advantage, steadily widening its lead over <Mint Green>.

The overall box office landscape also saw significant changes—<Chronicles of Winter> and <Mint Green> stood out with robust word-of-mouth, their daily box office seeing substantial growth, while the other films that were closely following behind began to see a drastic slowdown in box office increment, most notably in the cinema’s scheduling. These two films had almost formed a monopoly.

All this happened within just six days. Wang Xi’s caution against the potential comeback of <Mint Green> wasn’t unfounded because if its reputation continues to improve, it’s uncertain how many viewers it could divert. Given that <Mint Green’s> investment was far lower than <Chronicles of Winter>, being a youth film versus a special effects blockbuster, this predestines a vastly different breakeven point for the two films. Perhaps <Mint Green> only needs to reach 400 million to recoup and start profiting, while <Chronicles of Winter> might need up to 1 billion.

Naturally, Wang Xi hoped the film Ran Lin starred in would earn more money for the financiers, as this is part of an actor’s value.

“Don’t worry, Xi Jie,” Ran Lin declared to his agent. “Even if it means not eating, drinking, or sleeping, I’ll make sure to run the promotions well, rally the crowd, and <Dyeing Fire> is up next. I have to dominate the screen!”

Wang Xi was both relieved and amused. “Getting cocky, are we?”

……

Ran Lin did as he said. Throughout February, he was probably the <Chronicles of Winter> actor who did the most promotional work, and he put his all into every single event, never just going through the motions. In contrast, <Mint Green> was somewhat quieter on the promotional front, mainly because its male lead, Zhang Beichen, spent the first half of the month recuperating in the hospital and the latter half resting post-discharge, virtually absent from the entire month’s promotional activities.

By early March, several New Year’s films that had been squeezed to nearly no room in the schedule began to drop off. The typical effective period for a movie key is usually about a month, but <Chronicles of Winter> and <Mint Green>, as if by agreement, both announced—they would delay the withdrawal for another month. This means the keys for both films were extended by a month, so the two films that were supposed to be off-screen at the beginning of March will now be off-screen at the beginning of April.

At this point, <Chronicles of Winter> had nearly reached 1.7 billion in box office revenue, while <Mint Green> had broken the 1 billion mark. Considering the difference in ticket prices between 3D and 2D movies, it was almost fair to say that both films were on par in terms of screenings and occupancy rates.

Main actors from both films have garnered a wave of popularity from their respective movies. However, Ran Lin had seen the highest surge in popularity due to the stark contrast between his real persona and the character “Xiao Shitou” he portrayed, which led many fans to express their surprise with comments like “Never thought this would be you, Ran Lin.”

Although the films extended their run, in reality, the promotional activities were nearing an end. As new films started releasing, further promotion for these films made little impact on the box office; it was the cultivated word-of-mouth that played a crucial role now.

Ran Lin finally had some time to rest and sneak into a cinema to watch <Mint Green>.

On March 5^th, a month after the New Year’s slate of films was released, and after countless trips in and out of cinemas due to promotional activities, he finally had the opportunity to see the film that had once been within his grasp, rather than just reading about it online.

Ran Lin bought a ticket for the late evening show and arrived at the cinema around 10 p.m. The peak hours had passed, and as it wasn’t a holiday, only seven or eight people casually waited to enter their respective screenings. The air was cool with March’s chill, but the sweet scent of popcorn brought back some warmth.

Ran Lin, dressed in a black down jacket and wearing a mask, sat unnoticed in a corner. The waiting audience, mostly couples, were too immersed in their worlds to pay attention to a lone moviegoer like him.

Finally, the announcement for the 10:10 p.m. showing of <Mint Green> prompted him and another couple to enter the theater.

In the vast cinema, there were only three people, almost like a private screening. Ran Lin sat in the middle row, as per his ticket, while the couple took the last row.

As the lights dimmed and the movie started…

For the entire 125 minutes, Ran Lin didn’t allow himself to be distracted for even a moment.

Perhaps because of his complex feelings towards the film, he focused so intently that he didn’t want to miss a single shot, occasionally wondering how he would have played certain scenes and whether he could have done better than Zhang Beichen. Sometimes he would recall the script and ponder whether it had been portrayed as he remembered. More often, he compared what was on screen with his initial expectations from the script—whether it aligned, exceeded, or fell short.

His continuous internal dialogue made him feel somewhat dazed when the credits rolled, and the cinema lights turned back on.

It wasn’t until the couple passed by him and the girl glanced back at him, her expression curious but uncertain, that Ran Lin snapped back to reality and quickly put his mask back on. The timely arrival of the cleaning staff diverted the girl’s attention.

After driving home, Ran Lin finally settled down to reflect on <Mint Green> he had just watched.

Honestly, it was a sincere and delicate film, with great atmosphere and performances. The concentrated criticism on film websites about not capturing the essence of the original probably had to do with the diminishment of several important supporting characters in the adaptation.

The film presented a difference from the script he initially read.

Ran Lin didn’t know if it was the director’s or the production company’s decision, but he clearly remembered the script he had initially received. As the male lead, Li Yi’s storyline only made up about 65% of it, with the remaining percentage belonging to several well-integrated supporting characters, each representing diverse aspects of youth. However, in the final cut, Li Yi’s storyline occupied about 80%, meaning Zhang Beichen’s scenes increased, but this left less room for the other characters, leading to a sense of rush and lack of depth in their stories.

Those familiar with the original might be dissatisfied with how the film narrowed the diverse youth portrait to a story centered around Zhang Beichen; others might feel that the film overly focuses on his “confusion” and deem it a bit forced. But most likely had a decent viewing experience.

At least Ran Lin enjoyed it.

What if he had acted in the movie? Ran Lin didn’t know. There are no what-ifs in this world; if an opportunity seems close but is ultimately missed, it simply means it was never meant to be his.

Perhaps influenced by just having watched <Mint Green>, Ran Lin searched for news about Zhang Beichen before going to bed. He found that after being discharged, there was hardly any public activity. His Weibo was updated only on the day of discharge, reassuring fans that he was fine and they didn’t need to worry.

……

The day after Ran Lin secretly watched <Mint Green>, Lu Yiyao finally carried out his plan—he paid out of his pocket to treat the entire company to watch <Chronicles of Winter> and, through Yao Hong, subtly hinted to the staff to promote it on Weibo and social circles if they genuinely liked it after viewing, or at least, out of appreciation for the free movie, to sell some promotions.

Lu Yiyao’s company staff weren’t surprised, as they were all aware of their boss’ tight relationship with Ran Lin. Rumors within the company also indicated that Ran Lin’s contract with Dream Without Limits was about to expire and that upon expiration, he would sign with their side, becoming the first true signed artist after the company’s establishment.

However, their gossip only went so far because after organizing the <Chronicles of Winter> viewing, the boss and the entire company got busy—<Split Moon> was scheduled for release on March 28^th.

As they say, brothers go into battle together; perhaps it was fate that, at the same time, <Dyeing Fire> also announced its release date—March 25^th.

<Split Moon>, had the blessing of being shortlisted in an A-list film festival—though it didn’t win any awards, the sole selected Chinese language film provided enough prestige for it to assert quality.

<Dyeing Fire> was boosted by renowned director He Guan, the reappearance of Gu Jie on the big screen after more than a year, and Ran Lin, who had just shone in the New Year’s slot with <Chronicles of Winter>. The combination of these three explosive elements made it a formidable contender.

The two movies announced their release dates close to each other, sparking a fierce battle in the industry.

<Dyeing Fire> initiated the promotional campaign first. Wang Xi rode the wave of hype, sparking discussions about <Chronicles of Winter> vs. <Dyeing Fire>, with Ran Lin caught in a self-battle of sorts. His second collaboration with Jiang Yi also became a topic of interest among the public.

Not to be outdone, <Split Moon> launched its promotional campaign, focusing naturally on Lu Yiyao, especially since he was trying a split personality role for the first time. Just the character itself was enough to intrigue audiences.

Objectively, both movies promoted themselves without mentioning the competition. However, marketing accounts, seeking attention, frequently pitted the two films against each other in discussions about box office prospects. While the general public enjoyed the spectacle, the fans weren’t pleased.

Especially Lu Yiyao’s fans. When <Split Moon> was shortlisted for the film festival and <Chronicles of Winter> was gaining momentum, there had been minor skirmishes between the fans of Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin. The conflict subsided as <Mint Green> entered the fray and <Split Moon> hadn’t widely spread its promotions.

Now, some fans finally had the chance to vent—

[Please stop comparing the two movies. One explores split personalities, and the other is a dark crime thriller. They’re incomparable. Also, enough with the “brotherly love, ruling the screens together” narrative. God Lu doesn’t need to team up with anyone. Is it that hard to focus on our own?]

[I’m so fed up. Is Ran Lin doing this on purpose? Why does every promotion involve Lu Yiyao? Can’t he promote without God Lu?]

[True fans have been enduring this for a long time. Please open your eyes and see that the instigators are marketing accounts! True fans always focus on their own. Ran Lin is busy with <Chronicles of Winter> in February and now <Dyeing Fire> in March. He’s collaborating with Director He. Does he need to bring up Lu Yiyao for promotions? Wouldn’t we rather mention Gu Jie?]

[Fans of “Green Forest” are trembling…]

[As a fellow Green Forest fan, it’s not about them being together, but they have always been good friends. It’s clear to anyone with eyes. Fans tearing each other apart like this will only make things awkward for them 😔.]

[Melone eater here. Aren’t you all overacting? The movies haven’t even been released, and you’re already fighting. What’s next, physical fights after the release?]

When Ran Lin saw these comments in mid-March, he was busy with promotional activities for <Dyeing Fire>. Suddenly, he and Wang Xi were urgently called back to the company.

Back at the company, Wang Xi was called into the boss’ office first. Ran Lin waited in her office, idly browsing Weibo, and came across these comments, feeling a mix of emotions.

Bored, Ran Lin screenshotted the comments and sent them to Xia Xinran. When it comes to such matters, it’s best to turn to “friends and family” for a sigh. Of course, he couldn’t send them to Lu Yiyao, the other party involved, as he knew the response would be as complex as his own.

Xia Xinran, having slowed down his pace of work since establishing his studio, often teased Ran Lin about various things.

As expected, his friend quickly replied—[Hahahahahahahahahahahaha]

Ran Lin looked at the insincere string of characters and reflected on whether his choice of friends had gone a bit awry.

[The other party has blocked you.jpg]—Ran Lin expertly flipped out an emoticon from his collection to counterattack.

To his surprise, the other side wasn’t defeated by the emoticon but was instead charmed to the point of depletion—[Ahhh so cute, do you have more, do you have more?!]

Deciding to indulge his friend, Ran Lin sent a series of emoticon—[[The other party has let you out of the little black room.jpg], [The other party doesn’t want to kiss you.jpg], [The other party insists on kissing you.jpg], [The other party doesn’t want to talk and throws a naked man at you.jpg], [The other party happily catches the naked man.jpg]]

Xia Xinran—[Is it just me, or do the last few look like they’re for couples, and they all have a little dog paw!]

Ran Lin—[I don’t produce emoticons. I’m just a carrier for emoji expert [Teacher Lu] 😊.]

Xia Xinran—[Did you come here to complain or to show off your love… 😠]

Ran Lin—[Not exactly to complain, just feeling a bit complicated.]

Xia Xinran—[Lighten up. You two are just ‘friends’ to the outside world; that’s already a lot. Look at those celebrity couples who are openly in a relationship or even married. Their fans still tear each other apart 🤲.]

Ran Lin—[……]

Xia Xinran—[Because fans love their idols, they want to give them the best of the world and are even more intolerant of anyone saying bad things about them. So, as soon as they feel their idol is wronged or taken advantage of, they’re ready to take up arms and fight. Thus, no matter how intense their words are, it all stems from love… 🤲]

Ran Lin—[Right, so when I see them scolding me and protecting Lu Yiyao at the same time, I want to grab them, pinch their face fiercely, then hug and lift them high 😂.]

Xia Xinran—[So when falling in love, why find someone in the same industry 🤔.]

Ran Lin—[Are you suggesting finding someone outside the industry now?]

Xia Xinran—[No. Find the fated one.]

Ran Lin—[The fated one is likely to be in the same industry.]

Xia Xinran—[Then let it be the same industry. Just bestow me with someone soon; I want to break free from being single 💦 💦.]

Ran Lin—[…So what were all those things you just said to me!!!]

“Ran Ge.” Liu Wanwan barged in, panting and with a deeply furrowed brow, not looking like she bore good news. “The boss is calling for you.”

Ran Lin asked, “Is Xi Jie still in there?”

Liu Wanwan pursed her lips tightly and nodded.

Because he already had a bad premonition, when the boss straightforwardly asked if he had found a new company and had no intention of renewing his contract with Dream Without Limits, Ran Lin wasn’t surprised.

With only a little over three months left on the contract, it was time to lay everything out on the table. Ran Lin didn’t know how Wang Xi communicated with the boss, but he could sense some pacifying effect. Although the boss was displeased, he didn’t really say anything but simply discussed continuing to cooperate with promotional activities for works signed during the contract period after its expiration.

Ran Lin understood immediately that this was referring to <The Legend of Lantern Blossoms>, which was scheduled to air on satellite TV in July. It was a drama the company secured for him, and if he, the male lead, didn’t promote it, Dream Without Limits would still be responsible for the fallout.

Cooperating with promotions is an actor’s duty, and Ran Lin agreed immediately. He also roughly understood that <The Legend of Lantern Blossoms> was Wang Xi’s negotiating chip. After all, terminating a contract upon expiration is a legitimate matter, and Dream Without Limits couldn’t stop it. Now, with only a little over three months left until the contract’s end, even if Dream Without Limits decided to shelve him, it wouldn’t really affect Ran Lin. Rather than causing harm to both parties, it was better to part amicably.

……

On March 21^st, four days before the movie’s release, <Dyeing Fire> held its premiere in Beijing.

On March 25^th, the day <Dyeing Fire> was released, <Split Moon> held its premiere in Beijing.

On March 28^th, when <Split Moon> was released, <Dyeing Fire> broke the one billion box office mark.

On April 5^th, the Qingming holiday began, and Hollywood blockbusters dominated completely, with <Split Moon> and <Dyeing Fire> being the only domestic films to see steady box office growth amidst the imported film squeeze.

Compared to the New Year’s slot where <Chronicles of Winter> broke one billion on the first day, March and April indeed tend to be a tough period for domestic films. Firstly, there were several high-quality overseas blockbusters, and secondly, both <Dyeing Fire> and <Split Moon> are reality-based films. Although both were bolstered by idol fresh faces, they took a somewhat profound approach, with the former being a dark crime story and the latter exploring special populations, neither being mainstream commercial entertainers. Thus, the former took three and a half days to break one billion, and the latter took three days.

However, as word-of-mouth gradually fermented, the box office began to stabilize. And both films received well-rounded acclaim for directorship, script, and acting. Naturally, the actors’ promotional teams would tout their own, but when it came to marketing accounts, everyone grouped together for a more interesting perspective—

[Rotten Tomato Film Studio: The most surprising domestic films of April are these—<Dyeing Fire> is mind-bending, <Split Moon> is heart-wrenching! The boys of Drifting Story, Lu Yiyao, Gu Jie, and Ran Lin, all on the big screen. There’s one for everyone! Deep analysis on what makes these two movies good, no spoilers involved, safe to read…[View full article]]

Although there are always bad actors online leading the charge, there are also good ones. This long Weibo post was written objectively and sensibly, acknowledging the strengths of the films and offering professional suggestions before recommending audiences watch them, a true conscience of the industry.

Comments from the netizens were surprisingly harmonious—

[I just watched <Split Moon>. Different from what I expected, but better than expected. I agree with the poster. Lu Yiyao delivered the best performance of his career.]

[<Dyeing Fire> is truly gripping throughout. Gu Jie looks so handsome in a police uniform!!! And how does Ran Lin make the fearless young “Xiao Shitou” and the deeply despaired unemployed youth Di Jiangtao so believably acted out by the same person. I only realized towards the end they were played by the same actor 😢.]

[I’ve been wanting to watch <Split Moon> since it was nominated at XX. Glad I didn’t wait too long. The director’s approach is sincere, the pacing of the film is great, and Lu Yiyao’s acting is nothing short of amazing. A film worth settling down to watch.]

[As a melon-eater who has watched both <Dyeing Fire> and <Split Moon>, I personally prefer <Dyeing Fire> a bit more—just a personal taste. But the way Lu Yiyao can distinguish personalities with just a small gesture, or a look is just incredible…]

[Am I the only one who likes Jiang Yi? I genuinely think she’s also very spirited in modern dramas, and her transition this time was very successful!]

[I don’t stan any actor. I stan Director He! Even if he makes a science education film, I’d still love it…]

[I wasn’t planning to watch, but now I want to watch them all because of you…]

[I’ve watched both, thanks to the original poster’s persuasion, and decided to go for a second round 😂.]

Ran Lin was grinning ear to ear as he scrolled through the comments when suddenly a message from his lover popped up on his phone screen—[Are you asleep yet?]

It was nearly midnight, and Ran Lin, still buzzing, replied—[No.]

Lu Yiyao—[Where are you?]

Ran Lin—[At home.]

The video connected, and his lover hadn’t even taken off his coat. Given that Lu Yiyao had been promoting <Split Moon> with the creative team, Ran Lin immediately understood. “Just finished work?”

Lu Yiyao nodded but didn’t continue on the subject. Instead, he asked, “When are you free from your schedules?”

Ran Lin reflexively answered, “End of the month. Have to keep running <Dyeing Fire> promotions until then.”

After responding, he suddenly realized the implication of the question and asked curiously, “Why do you ask?”

Lu Yiyao pondered for a moment before saying, “I want to go watch a movie with you.”

Ran Lin’s heart fluttered, but he teased, “Watch <Split Moon> or <Dyeing Fire>?”

Lu Yiyao already had an answer. “Both. The two of us, watching our movies.”

Ran Lin: “……”

This was the most romantic invitation Ran Lin had ever heard.

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