ebookland Chapter 330: Three Kings Carry the Sedan, Waiting for One Person
Chapter 330: Three Kings Carry the Sedan, Waiting for One Person
Chapter 330: Three Kings Carry the Sedan, Waiting for One Person
Xiamen Gaoqi Airport, arrival hall.
Security was at its highest level.
Dozens of airport security personnel linked arms, forming a human wall, trembling as they held back the crowd surging against the railings outside.
This should have been a battlefield of fan chants and screams.
But when that figure appeared at the exit of the passageway, the entire hall's clamor fell into complete silence.
Jiang Ci wore the most ordinary black mask and baseball cap, with a sharply tailored black trench coat.
He wore no extra accessories, the black clothes making his figure appear lean and slender.
He walked quietly, others not daring to approach.
This wasn't posturing; it was the stillness that comes after experiencing major events.
All the fans present couldn't help but recall that wildly circulating leaked on-set video.
That resolute back charging towards the explosion.
That body, flung by the blast wave, lying lifeless in the dust.
An absurd yet real thought seized them.
The person before them wasn't the celebrity Jiang Ci coming to attend an awards ceremony.
It was that undercover police officer, Jiang He, who had just crawled back from hell.
The entire arrival hall was enveloped in sorrow.
Camera flashes in the media area went off frantically, capturing this spectacle.
One girl tightly covered her mouth.
Her gaze fell on the pant leg lifted by the hem of Jiang Ci's trench coat.
The exposed ankle was still worryingly thin.
He was still this skinny.
Had he been eating properly these past two weeks?
Jiang Ci's footsteps paused.
He looked around, somewhat puzzled.
Was the wind in Xiamen today really that strong?
Or was the airport air conditioning cranked up so high it made everyone collectively tear up in the draft?
He instinctively reached into his pocket.
Inside was a pack of portable wet wipes Sun Zhou had forced on him that morning.
Should he... hand them out?
One per person, at least they could wipe their tears.
He immediately dismissed the thought as soon as it arose.
No.
This brand didn't pay for advertising. If Lin Wan found out he was giving them free promotion, she'd lecture him again.
He abandoned this dangerous idea and could only stand there, feeling a bit at a loss.
He merely stood still for a few seconds, with a trace of confusion.
This brief pause, however, felt like a slow-motion tragic shot, etched into the eyes of all the fans.
They became even more convinced.
He hadn't emerged from the character yet.
Jiang Ci was completely out of ideas.
He searched futilely for Sun Zhou in the crowd,
but amidst the flashing lenses and blurred tear-filled gazes, he spotted a familiar face.
It was that young makeup artist from the Icebreaker film set who had once quietly handed him a warm towel.
She was here too.
Her makeup was completely ruined, but she clutched a fan support banner tightly in her hand.
It read—【Jiang He, welcome home】.
Something seemed to gently bump against Jiang Ci's heart.
He finally understood.
They weren't tearing up from the wind.
They were crying for "Jiang He."
Jiang Ci stood silently, under the focus of countless lenses,
and deeply bowed towards that silent, sorrow-stricken crowd.
A bow exceeding ninety degrees.
The pigeon-blood ruby brooch on his chest refracted a piercing light under the lamps.
Like a drop of solidified heart's blood.
A passerby, moved by this fate-filled scene, raised their phone and captured his profile as he boarded the vehicle.
The photo quickly spread across the internet.
The caption was just one sentence: "He shattered and reassembled, becoming sharper."
#JiangCiAirportArrivalSpectacle#
This hashtag descended with unstoppable force, landing directly at the top of the trending list.
Inside the entourage van.
Jiang Ci leaned back in his seat, removed his mask, and let out a breath.
Sun Zhou was still excitedly scrolling through his phone, babbling incoherently.
"Bro, did you see that? That scene just now was absolutely insane!"
Jiang Ci ignored him, resting with his eyes closed.
The vehicle arrived at the hotel officially designated by the Golden Rooster Awards.
As the group entered the lobby, several people approached from the opposite direction.
Leading them was a well-dressed middle-aged man of distinguished bearing.
Sun Zhou instinctively whispered a reminder: "Bro, it's Mr. Liu Wei."
Jiang Ci showed little reaction.
Liu Wei, veteran Film Emperor, a strong contender for Best Actor this time.
Also the senior who once publicly commented at a banquet that the rookie Jiang Ci "lacked life experience and couldn't act anything substantial."
The two groups met in the narrow elevator lobby.
Liu Wei's assistant recognized Jiang Ci and immediately nudged his arm nervously.
Liu Wei stopped, a practiced smile automatically spreading across his face.
"Xiao Ci, long time no see. Your recent work..."
But when Jiang Ci's gaze actually fell upon him,
Liu Wei's prepared stock of pleasantries suddenly died in his throat.
The gaze held no emotion whatsoever.
No junior's deference, no peer's probing, not even resentment from past mockery.
It was like looking at an unrelated piece of furniture.
In that moment, Liu Wei felt his pride in his seniority, his status as a predecessor,
stripped completely bare under that gaze, rendered laughable and cheap.
He instinctively averted his eyes.
The phrase "boundless future" got stuck in his throat, his aged face flushing crimson.
Jiang Ci gave him a perfunctory nod of acknowledgment, then turned and stepped into another elevator.
The elevator doors slowly closed.
Only after the metal doors had completely shut did Liu Wei seem to shrug off a heavy burden, his back, he realized, soaked in cold sweat.
His assistant asked cautiously, "Teacher, are you alright?"
Liu Wei waved a hand and laughed self-deprecatingly.
"The times... have truly changed."
Inside the hotel suite.
Sun Zhou was excitedly reporting the latest online buzz.
"Bro! It's exploded! Completely exploded!"
"Because of this airport arrival, the online calls for you to win the award are ridiculously high now!"
Sun Zhou's voice was trembling: "Bro! Ninety percent! On all prediction platforms, your support rate is a staggering ninety percent!"
"This Film Emperor award is in the bag!"
Jiang Ci was sitting on the sofa, intently studying the hotel's room service menu.
He didn't even look up.
"Do they have grilled cold noodles?"
Sun Zhou's excitement instantly short-circuited.
Looking at Jiang Ci's overly serious face, his worldview developed another crack.
We're here discussing the pinnacle of your artistic career, and you're concerned about a street food snack?
The night of the Golden Rooster Awards ceremony.
Both sides of the red carpet were already packed to capacity with Long Guns and Short Cannons and countless fans.
Night fell, and the lights came on brilliantly.
At the end of the red carpet, a black Rolls-Royce slowly came to a stop.
The door opened, and the person who stepped out instantly drew the focus of every lens on the scene.
Director of The Legend of Han and Chu, Wei Song.
Immediately after, a second car arrived.
Hou Hsiao-hsien, wearing a Tang suit and radiating an unruly aura, stepped down from the car.
Camera flashes turned the area into daylight.
Before the crowd could recover from the shock of seeing two major directors appear simultaneously,
a third car pulled up steadily behind Hou Hsiao-hsien's vehicle.
The door opened, and out stepped Zhang Mouyi, his hair completely silver.
Three figures universally acknowledged as Towering Figures in Chinese cinema.
At this moment, they had actually appeared at the starting point of the same red carpet at the same time.
This had never happened in the history of the Golden Rooster Awards.
Yet, an even more inconceivable scene unfolded.
After getting out of their cars, none of the three directors proceeded onto the red carpet.
As if by prior agreement, they stood where they were.
Wei Song checked his wristwatch.
Hou Hsiao-hsien took a cigar from his pocket, then expressionlessly put it back.
Zhang Mouyi stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the distant stream of traffic.
They were waiting.
Three giants were actually waiting for someone at the same time.
A veteran reporter was the first to react, his voice trembling as he shouted into his camera:
"Who are they waiting for?! Who on earth?!"
Before his words faded,
a fourth black business vehicle, under the watchful eyes of all,
drove up and stopped behind the three directors.