Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 52 Su Wan's First Hard Card

In Beijing in December, the wind at two or three in the morning can seep into your bones even through a down jacket.

Outside the gas station, the old bread truck's exhaust pipe was still belching white smoke, looking like a panting monster in the lamplight of this desolate wilderness.

About a hundred meters behind, the Audi's headlights were off, leaving only a dark outline faintly visible at the edge of the green belt, like a corpse stain that could never be shaken off.

Chen Yan stood in the wind, the hem of his coat flapping wildly in the wind.

He cupped his hands around a flame and lit a cigarette. The sparks flickered in the darkness, illuminating his expressionless face.

"If they try to stop us, roll the windows shut and just barge in. Wu Gang, you know your limits."

Chen Yan tossed the keys to Wu Gang, who had just gotten out of the car, his tone as flat as if he were telling him what to eat for breakfast.

Wu Gang took the keys and rubbed his thumb against the wrench at his waist.

He glanced back, said nothing, just nodded, and got into the bread cart.

Zhang Yuan held the two metal boxes, his palms were sweaty, and his clothes were soaked with cold sweat.

He wanted to get out of the car and follow Chen Yan, but looking into Chen Yan's unfathomable eyes, he swallowed his words.

"Brother Yan, then I'll guard the negatives."

Zhang Yuan gritted his teeth.

"As long as the film is still there, and the film isn't ruined, the crew will still have food to eat."

Chen Yan patted the car window, signaling Wu Gang to leave.

The van roared as it rolled over the gravel on the ground and sped off toward the Third Ring Road.

Almost simultaneously, the Audi behind also started up quickly, its two taillights disappearing into the night.

Su Wan sat in her car, her hands still gripping the steering wheel tightly.

She hadn't let Chen Yan see the anonymous text message Shen Congzhou had just sent, but it had already exploded in her mind.

"Lin Shufen has arrived."

Su Wan spoke, her voice hoarse from not having drunk water for a long time.

Chen Yan looked at her and pointed to the account book in Su Wan's bag, "Lin Shufen is a ruthless person. If you lose money today, she'll come with a saw."

"I'll guard this ledger; she can't cut it."

Su Wan turned the car around, her eyes shining brightly in the dimly lit carriage.

"Go ahead. Editing rights, overseas rights, cast and crew list. Aside from splitting the profits, she won't get a single thing."

After giving his instructions, Chen Yan opened the passenger door.

He didn't get into Su Wan's car, but instead hailed a taxi that had just filled up with gas and disappeared from sight.

South Suburb Meat Processing Plant, Cold Storage.

The air here is colder than outside.

Several huge xenon lamps illuminated the overgrown yard in a stark white light, even making the frozen soil in the cracks between the stones glow with a chilling light.

Lin Shufen stood next to the Mercedes-Benz S320, her mink coat covered in a layer of fine dirt.

She held an unlit cigarette in her hand, while the two accountants behind her carried black briefcases on either side of her, their faces bruised and purple from the wind.

Su Wan rammed her car directly in front of Lin Shufen, pushed open the door, and a cold, hard aura pressed down on her.

"Where's the money?"

Su Wan didn't exchange pleasantries, and slammed the folder in her hand onto the hood of the car.

Lin Shufen laughed, her face, excessively pale from the foundation, appearing somewhat distorted under the light. "Girl, what's the rush? Where's Chen Yan? In such a dramatic scene, he's hiding in the back, letting you, a young lady, wade into this mess?"

"He's waiting for the sample photos. If they're good, this contract is real money. If they're not, it's just a piece of paper. Sister Lin, are you here to help or just to spout nonsense?"

Su Wan stared into Lin Shufen's eyes, without taking a single step back.

Lin Shufen shrugged and gestured for the accountant to open the box.

The lid was lifted, revealing stacks of neatly tied "big coins" (a type of Chinese currency) under the xenon lamp, emitting a faint smell of ink.

That's a full 300,000; in this day and age, that amount is enough to take your breath away.

"300,000 in cash, the remaining 700,000 for short-term financing. I want 25% of Leiming's domestic profits. Also, I get overall control over the marketing and distribution."

Lin Shufen's offer was practically a steal for Su Wan.

Su Wan didn't even blink. "Eight percent of the profits are from domestic sales, with no overall control over marketing and distribution. Sister Lin, you're taking advantage of my misfortune, not doing business."

"You have no right to complain about the price. Shen Congzhou sent a letter from Shanghai, ordering all photo printing plants in Yenching to cut off their chemical supply. If you don't take this 300,000 yuan now, you won't even have money to pay your workers' wages tomorrow morning."

Lin Shufen spat and sneered.

Su Wan didn't say anything, but took out a photocopy from the file bag and lightly placed it on top of the pile of money.

On the paper, the lion logo of the Venice Film Festival is glaringly obvious under the lights.

"A copy of the shortlist letter. The original is in Chen Yan's pocket. Three million US dollars have been pre-sold in France, and the first payment has already arrived in Hong Kong."

Su Wan's voice wasn't loud, but it pounded loudly at the entrance of the empty cold storage room. "Shen Congzhou timed it perfectly. Sister Lin, how much do you think that time difference is worth?"

Lin Shufen's hand holding the cigarette froze in mid-air.

She stared intently at the shortlisted letter, her gaze shifting from disdain to extreme greed, and finally to a deep-seated apprehension.

She knew that as soon as the list was released, Hong Kong and Taiwanese capital would pounce on it like sharks smelling blood.

Short-term lending with a daily interest rate of 0.6%?

At that time, Lin Shufen didn't even get five percent of the profits.

"Okay. Ten percent."

Lin Shufen suddenly reached out, took the pen handed to her by the accountant, and bent down to sign the prepared agreement. "Su Wan, I underestimated you. You and Chen Yan are a perfect match, one killing people in front and the other burying bones behind."

Su Wan took the signed contract, but showed no sign of relief.

She turned and waved to Liang Qinian, who was guarding the back door: "Cash in. Old Liang, what about the person we caught?"

Liang Qinian, carrying a shovel, pointed towards the warehouse with a gloomy expression: "Surname Wei, paparazzi. If you can't get in, just squat outside. The camera's been taken apart, but the person is still inside."

Lin Shufen put on her coat, patted Su Wan on the shoulder before leaving, and said in a complicated tone, "Girl, we got the knife, but those people in Shanghai don't like to use their fists. They like to use their pens. Actors injured, illegal bombings, foreign funds. Once these dirty tricks are thrown at you, even Venice can't save you. The imperial seal? You'll probably never see it in your lifetime."

As soon as Lin Shufen's car drove away, Su Wan's phone started vibrating like a death knell.

"Miss Su, I am from Chaoyang Third Hospital."

On the other end of the phone, the background noise was filled with hurried footsteps and the sound of a cart being pushed around.

"Has something happened to Lin Qingqiu?"

Su Wan's heart sank.

"She's fine. But a few people with letters of introduction came in just now, claiming to be from *Shanghai New Film Weekly*. They took advantage of the ward rounds to forcibly look through Lin Qingqiu's medical records. The one in charge, Wei Cheng, said they have 'ironclad evidence' of the film crew abusing actors, and they're going to put it on the front page tomorrow morning!"

Su Wan gripped her phone tightly, her knuckles losing all color from the excessive force.

Outside the window, a black Audi had somehow returned, gliding past the factory gate like a ghost.

Shen Congzhou's knife didn't strike the money; instead, it stabbed directly at Lin Qingqiu's bedside.

"Stop them. If anyone dares to touch Lin Qingqiu's face, call the police immediately."

Su Wan hung up the phone and abruptly pushed open the office door.

In the corner, Chen Yan finished his last cigarette in the darkness, the cigarette butt drawing a red arc in the air.

"The knife was drawn."

Chen Yan stood up and buttoned up his coat one button at a time. "Let's go to the hospital to wrap up filming."