Chapter Sixty-One: The Clever Ning Hao

Page 1

(Thanks to Dragon Gazing at the Stars for the reward, and once again, thanks to Long Shaoll1 for the reward—much appreciated! Only two chapters today, the black car will make a slight adjustment. Let me sigh once more, Du really does bring trouble upon himself. All right, calling for ‘recommendations and hits,’ everyone, go all out, haha.)

Ning Hao was very clever—this was Wu Xiang’s immediate impression.

Those candid shots of Wu Xiang were merely a pretext, a brick to attract jade, as the saying goes. Anyone could understand: presenting such embarrassing photos to their subject, what was the intention? Was he trying to threaten Wu Xiang?

Of course not. Compared to scandals like certain infamous incidents, these photos were nothing. So what was Ning Hao’s real purpose?

Film.

Ning Hao directed, acted, and wrote his own movie—that was his true aim. He wanted Wu Xiang to watch it, to hear the opinion of this young, cutting-edge, renowned director.

Perhaps Ning Hao hadn’t planned this at first, but Wu Xiang auditing the photography class gave him an opportunity, and he seized it with intelligence.

The film was titled “Thursday, Wednesday.” The content, for now, is unimportant—it was a DV-shot movie, and that’s why Ning Hao hoped Wu Xiang would watch it: it was a new cinematic form, and the elders of the film world might not accept it.

“You should be a director!” That’s what Wu Xiang said after watching, and judging from his expression, it was no joke.

“R-really? Is it truly possible?” Ning Hao could hardly believe such affirmation.

It wasn’t that Ning Hao lacked confidence, but consider their positions: one was a freshman just admitted to the photography department, whose previous major was directing—not at a specialized institution, and only at a junior college. The other had just released a film that ranked second in this year’s box office. The difference was vast.

“Of course you can!” Frankly, Wu Xiang could have said that without watching, but he did finish the film, and afterwards, he regarded Ning Hao in a whole new light—so much creativity, so much novelty.

“Thank you, thank you so much.” Such encouragement, for Ning Hao at that moment, was no less than a divine message, enough to propel him forward on the path of directing.

But Wu Xiang hadn’t finished. He smiled and said, “Here’s the thing—I think you’re talented, and I want to recommend you to my mentor. You know Han Xiaolei, right? That old guy in the directing department, haha…”

An old guy? The name sounded like he was the deputy director of the department. No other Han surnames around. Ning Hao was very attentive to the staff in the directing department, since he originally intended to apply but didn’t succeed.

Still, Ning Hao was utterly shocked—Wu Xiang was quite connected, calling a deputy director and graduate advisor “the old guy.” Now he’d found the right person. He responded quickly, “That’s wonderful! Will he accept me?”

Page 2

“What’s there to be afraid of? He seems pretty idle most days. He already teaches me, so what’s one more?” Wu Xiang was on familiar terms with Han Xiaolei. When not in class, he called him “old guy”—partly out of affection, partly because Han approved. After all, he was close to retirement, soon to be an old man in every sense.

“That’s fantastic!” Ning Hao was naturally overjoyed.

Why did Wu Xiang take charge so boldly? Did he really want to be a hero, a model of altruism?

Not exactly. Wu Xiang considered himself helpful, but for two strangers, to offer such a huge favor so quickly—how would a clever person respond?

Ning Hao was clever. He patted his chest and declared, “Whenever you need me, Wu Bro, just say the word—I’ll never hesitate!”

Of course, if the mentorship succeeded. Besides, Wu Xiang, younger than Ning Hao, had become “bro”—how could this not work out?

Wu Xiang went straight to Han’s house that day, saying he’d discovered a talent and urging Han to take him—guaranteeing no regrets.

But could Han agree so easily? It wasn’t that simple—Wu Xiang himself had struggled to be accepted, and now wanted to bring someone else in? That would require a lot of persuasion.

However, Wu Xiang had a plan—he brought Ning Hao’s work along, placing it before the old man.

Han watched the film seriously, much more attentively than Wu Xiang, and immediately commented, “You really are lucky—where did you find such a kid?”

From Han’s tone, Wu Xiang understood—the deal was done. Yet Han added, getting a formal degree would be difficult. Ning Hao wasn’t Wu Xiang, and the academy would hardly grant such a favor.

But Han said Ning Hao could study under him, just as Wu Xiang did. As for materials—books and so on—he could use Wu Xiang’s.

Wu Xiang thought the terms fair and agreed on Ning Hao’s behalf. He was “bro” now; why not make the call?

It was a joyous occasion. Han wanted Wu Xiang to stay for a drink, but Wu Xiang had a date with Haiqing. The two were now inseparable—who would choose to drink with an old man over spending time with a beautiful companion?

Before Wu Xiang left, Han said one last thing.

“You ought to restrain yourself sometimes. It’s good to be ambitious, but don’t steal too much spotlight.”

Page 3

Wu Xiang found these words cryptic—what was Han talking about?

But he didn’t dwell on it; more important matters awaited—romance!

Wu Xiang and Haiqing went off to enjoy themselves, but let’s leave that aside. Ning Hao, knowing he could study with Han, was thrilled—degrees didn’t matter! Ning Hao’s gratitude to Wu Xiang was nearly worshipful.

Wu Xiang was pleased, too—he’d gained another capable ally. If Wu Xiang ever found himself in trouble, would Director Ning let his “Wu Bro” beg on the streets?

Wonderful, absolutely wonderful—not a carrot, but Wu Xiang, and yet the story didn’t end there.

Who says fortune never comes twice? Today, Wu Xiang broke the rule!

Approval granted! “First Intimate Encounter” could be released!

The news came from Yu Dong, clearly because Third Master was busy. It didn’t matter who delivered it—they met at a café as usual.

It was fantastic. The news meant all previously halted plans could proceed; it meant Wu Xiang…

Wait—Wu Xiang suddenly sensed that Han’s words yesterday might be connected to this!

The more he thought, the more it seemed likely. Han’s expression, tone, and the underlying meaning—though never explicit—absolutely hinted at it. Why else would he say that?

Wu Xiang was baffled—how could Han know? He couldn’t understand why such an ordinary old man, dressed in white linen, with a belt pulled up to his chest, living in a dilapidated building slated for demolition, could have links to so many influential figures in the film and television world.

In fact, not just Wu Xiang—anyone in that situation would find it unimaginable that this unremarkable old man had deep connections with countless heavyweights in the industry.