Reborn fashion designer

Chapter 734 "Bloody Battle at Wenshankou"!
drunk.

After waking up, Principal An could not stay in the hotel to sober up like his son-in-law did. With a hangover on his mind, he washed up, put on slightly sloppy clothes, and went straight to the airport.

There's no way, the game is on Saturday.

He has to hurry back so he can go to work tomorrow morning.

My life is not as good as my son-in-law's.

He arrived at the airport feeling depressed. He drank a cup of coffee to clear his mind before boarding the plane and recalled what his son-in-law had said to him yesterday.

This kid really knows how to dig a hole for him.

Principal An couldn't help but laugh out loud, as he couldn't count how many times he had received a proposal from Xiangyang that made the leaders' eyes light up.

progress.

Of course he thought about it too.

If you talk about the president of Tsinghua University or Peking University, he is content.

But what about the Confucius Institute?
"I almost forgot, I need to call my in-laws."

Remembering the "family portrait", he quickly took a big sip of hot coffee before taking out his cell phone.

It’s not just about taking pictures.

As he said yesterday, Lao Xiang was also a soldier.

Some of these heroic deeds were personally experienced.

Although Lao Xiang, the relative, is content with being a small policeman in his life, but seeing that they are about to retire, the two families should help each other a little.

It can't be that their family always benefits from their son-in-law, right?

What if someone gossips?

"Oh, I was wondering why I was sneezing all day. It turns out you were nagging me."

From the other end of the phone, Lao Xiang's hearty laughter was still heard.

"Comrade Lao Xiang, how are you feeling recently?" Faced with this in-law who was really impeccable, Principal An also smiled.

"Not good." Lao Xiang shook his head and complained:

"Xixi took my two granddaughters away. Her mother-in-law keeps nagging me about it. I can't sleep well."

"Hey, what are you saying?" Principal An grinned. He really couldn't respond to this.

Compared with Mr. Zhao and Mr. Xiang, his opportunities to see his two precious granddaughters are even fewer.

Even in Paris.
Hearing Principal An sigh, Lao Xiang quickly changed the subject, "Let's not talk about this annoying thing. What instructions does Principal An have?"

"I don't deserve instructions." Principal An smiled and said, "I just want to ask you about the time you set for taking family photos so I can ask for leave. By the way."

While drinking coffee, Principal An expressed his intentions.

"This one"

Unexpectedly, Lao Xiang took a breath.

It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it, but there are some things I don’t want to recall.

After all, if many of the heroes who survived were still alive, they would be about the same age as him.

Moreover, there are many younger than him.
Especially there were many rural soldiers at that time.

"If you don't want to recall it, that's fine. I just want to ask you about it. After all, when I tell my boss about it, I'll be prepared."

Principal An said something comforting and explained at the same time.

"Lao An, it's not that I don't want to talk. It's just..." Lao Xiang nodded silently, and as he spoke, he unconsciously fell into memories.

It was late February 1979, and he followed his team into Nongwen Pass to support the battle in Gufang.
A young medical worker personally saved 43 comrades.

He is a living "first-class merit".

The story is not long, but it is very heavy.

After Lao Xiang finished his story, Principal An fell into silence for a long time. He didn't even notice that the coffee in his hand had gone cold.

It was not until the flight called the passengers for departure that he came back to his senses and said with emotion:
"Such heroic deeds have been buried for too long, and there are too many of them."

"Yes, we have many people who have made great contributions, but young people nowadays don't remember them." Lao Xiang also sighed.

There's nothing I can do about it, that's just the way he is.

My son is so successful. He appears in newspapers, magazines, television, and is praised by young people on the Internet every day.

Although he felt proud in his heart, the times he had experienced were different from those of young people.

From the beginning to the end, he felt from the bottom of his heart that the people who truly deserved to be supported and paid attention to were the heroes who had shed blood and suffered injuries for China.

This is the "generation gap".

Maybe many young people can't understand it.

But when Principal An, who was of similar age, heard this, he knew that Lao Xiang was not complaining.

But in remembrance.

In the words of young people, the world is so big, but in the blink of an eye, we may never meet again.

But when used to describe the life he had experienced, in the blink of an eye, a good comrade who might have just been chatting happily with him and smoking a cigarette like a brother, may have died.

Goodbye, that will be in the Martyrs' Cemetery.

"Mr. Xiang, don't worry, I will write this story well." A resounding promise came out of Principal An's mouth.

Faced with the moving "thank you" from the other end of the phone, Principal An felt a little ashamed.

As a writer.

It should be his honor to be able to write about such heroic deeds.

How can it be regarded as a stepping stone to progress?
He had already made up his mind before he started writing. He would go back to Paris to explain the situation to his leader, and then ask for leave to return to China to look up information.

He wanted to write the story of this fighting hero named Sun.

The name of this story is "Bloody Battle at Wenshankou"!
"I almost forgot." A person suddenly popped up in his mind, and Principal An couldn't help but wipe his excited eyes.

He is just a translator. How can he be good at something like movie scripts?

But some people understand.

I remembered Lai Kang, who was in charge of external exchanges for Huaying, whom I met at the airport because of my son-in-law.

Principal An smiled thankfully.

Fortunately, I learned that the other party had lived in Paris for many years and left a phone number.

After saying goodbye to Lao Xiang on the phone, Principal An couldn't wait to call this person again.

Paris, the time difference with Liverpool is very short.

Xiangyang's father-in-law, Principal An, called early in the morning. Lai Kang, who had just gotten up and was having breakfast, thought for a moment and then picked up the phone.

"Bloody Battle of Wenshankou", Principal An wants to be the screenwriter.

What is this ghost?

Not to mention Lai Kang, even Han Sanping was confused when he heard this.

What? Does this mean that this whole family wants to change their careers by relying on Xiang Yang's current influence in the Chinese film industry?

While confused, he listened to Lai Kang's explanation.

Han Sanping was stunned.

"Zhang Qian, book me a flight to Qingdao! Hurry up!"

There are three types of films invested by Huaying.

The first category is film creation that promotes core values.

The second type of commercial blockbusters is only to establish that the initiative in the film market is always in the hands of Chinese films.

The third category of low-budget films is more intended to train new talents, build young teams, and enrich the types of films in the market.

Han Sanping has a scale in his mind to judge which one is the most important among these three.

"Call Zhang Mouzi and ask him to make time tonight. I want to have a good conversation with him."

The incident was caused by Zhang Mouzi.

Han Sanping rushed to Qingdao just to persuade Zhang Mouzi in person not to waste his time on "The Flowers of War".

No need.

"Mr. Han, do we need Director Zhang to call the others?" Zhang Qian asked.

"Uh"

Han Sanping frowned.

Liu Qianqian, should I call her or not?
He was a little unsure about this.

Logically speaking, women pay less attention to war films.

But Liu Xixi's identity is a bit sensitive.

Especially, there is also her father's matter here. Of course, Xiangyang is definitely indispensable.

"If you don't want to disturb their filming process, just ask him to come over." Han Sanping said after thinking for a while.

This film cannot accept investment from Hermes Film Investment Company.

If you don’t call Liu Xixi.

It is easy to cause misunderstanding.

As for why Hermès Film Investment Company cannot be involved, it goes without saying that it is not a big deal to let foreigners invest in such a war movie.

Especially, little John had a hard time taking out money, and he liked to take the biggest share.

Qingdao, film crew.

Zhang Mouzi felt complicated when he received the call.

What the hell is this!

I just mentioned it to Liu Xiaoli, and then Han Sanping came to kill me.

This is a big deal.

Just as he was worrying about this, Zhang Qian on the other end of the phone covered his phone and whispered, "Director Zhang, congratulations in advance. The investment for the new movie should not be a problem."

"New movies, investment is not a problem anymore?"

Zhang Mouzi's eyes lit up.

It turns out to be a great joyous event!
He thought about it and calculated that for "The Flowers of War", it would be difficult to film it with the kind of realism he wanted without a total investment of 3-4 million yuan.

Among these, props are the most expensive.

Especially the glass on the church, which perfectly reproduces the huge circular stained glass window with bright five colors according to historical photos, and it is very expensive.

To this end, he also asked Pang Li to find some real photos of the giant glass windows that remain today.

The most beautiful one is the Persian stained glass wall.

The Pink Temple is not an exaggeration. When the sunlight shines in from all angles, the floor of the hall will appear in brilliant colors, echoing the pink tiles.

He planned to use this template to present various colors such as red, yellow, blue, and green, and let human figures pass through them.

Just thinking about it, this picture alone made him drool.

What does it mean to be filled with vibrant colors, but also to be swayed by the destruction caused by war?
But if you want to achieve this kind of lens language, you have to spend money.

Who is Zhang Qian?

Han Sanping's assistant.

He told himself that investment is no longer a problem.

Then next
"Okay, I'll get ready. Boss Han is coming over, and I want to show him the footage that I've already shot."

Zhang Mouzi was very happy.

"Thank you for your hard work, Director Zhang. I will contact your assistant Pang Li after I book the plane ticket." Zhang Qian said with a smile.

For such a trivial matter as picking up someone at the airport, Zhang Mouzi would definitely not be asked to come in person.

The score is not arranged like this.

"Director Zhang, please tell Ms. Liu Qianqian that President Han also wants to communicate with her."

"no problem."

When Zhang Mouzi heard this, the smile on his face became even happier.

It seems that I had wronged Liu Xiaoli just now.

I didn't expect that in just one or two nights, they helped me get things done.

This ability is number one in China.

It would be even more perfect if Mr. Xiang could personally design cheongsams for Liu Qianqian and others at that time.

Don't mention it, I've seen the photos of Liu Qianqian wearing cheongsam in the past.

Zhang Mouzi sincerely believes that this kind of role is suitable for her to challenge.

I just don't know if Mr. Han can convince her.

Anyway, I can't convince myself.

It's not that he lost face, but he could see that Liu Qianqian was completely focused on "Time Traveler" and had no time to think about anything else.

In the morning, he made a special observation.

Very energetic.

There was no feeling of fatigue at all from staying up late to watch the game.

This state cannot be faked.

I didn’t see it. I just didn’t see it.

Those who stay up late
"I'll let her know right away." Zhang Mouzi stopped daydreaming and said, "Is there anything else I need to prepare? The script isn't finished yet, but I have an idea in my head."

"You don't have to worry about the script." Zhang Qian pursed his lips.

Deep down, he envied Zhang Mouzi's situation of not knowing how to appreciate what he had.

script.

funds.

And everything that followed was taken care of by someone else.

He just needs to shoot seriously.

It’s hard to say which domestic director is so comfortable.

Well, Zhang Mouzi doesn’t even have to worry much about props.

At the beginning, Han Sanping was willing to spend money to let Huaying staff participate in Spielberg's "War Horse", just to improve their capabilities in this area.

Unexpectedly, the filming over there had been completed and the returning team could be used.

"Director, you called me?" Liu Qianqian walked over with a reserved smile on her face and a cell phone in her hand.

Just now, she received a text message from Xiangyang.

The stinky guy admitted that he drank too much last night.

But he swore that he slept alone.

Didn't mix with the members of the "gay group".

Although there are no pictures or truth, the two of them still have this most basic trust.

to be exact.

She was willing to choose to believe that Xiangyang would not lie to her for such a small matter!
"Xixi, President Han will be here tonight and wants to talk to you." Zhang Mouzi stood up and said in a ridiculous way without any hesitation.
"No, you've already taken pictures of the bedroom, and you want to take pictures of the bathroom? Can't you let me take a shower first? I'm covered in sweat, smell it if you don't believe me."

Little John's tone was not very good when he said this.

He was also impressed by Xiang Yang, Tom Hiddleston and Benedict Cumberbatch.

These three people actually took advantage of the fact that he was drunk and covered him with all the quilts in the suite.

They said they were afraid he would get sick if he slept on the floor.
He had never heard of anyone catching a cold from sleeping on a fuzzy carpet.

This night's sleep.

It didn't kill him.

There were clear human-shaped marks on the carpet, just missing a circle of white powder.

"Shut up, you'll die if you take a shower later!" Xiangyang pushed him away with disgust and carefully observed the situation in the bathroom.

Fortunately, after several people got drunk yesterday and returned to the house, no one vomited while holding the toilet.
In the bathroom, even the bath towels were still neatly arranged, looking like they had not been used.

"Xiang, what you are doing is wrong. Let me teach you." Tom Hiddleston, who was standing behind Xiangyang, also leaned in and quickly stopped his friend from taking a photo.

"It's too clean. Liu will think you specially asked someone to clean it."

“???” Xiangyang turned his head, that made sense.

"Let me wash my face first, and then you can take the photos." Tom Hiddleston quickly moved sideways and came in.

Before Xiang Yang could react, Benedict Cumberbatch, who had just been carried aside, collapsed on the sofa, his face pale as he held a trash can and yelled:
"I said, where's our breakfast?"

He retched while holding the trash can, wiped his mouth with his clothes, and then urged: "If you don't come soon, I will vomit all my stomach acid."

Seeing his embarrassed look, the three people huddled together just watched it for fun.

Little John was about to say something when the cell phone in his pocket started ringing.

After taking out his cell phone, Little John exclaimed:
"Oh no! Oh no! My wife is here to check on me, Xiang, Tom, you two, hide now!"

In a panic, Little John pushed Xiangyang and Tom Hiddleston directly into the bathroom.

Seeing Benedict Cumberbatch limp and unwilling to move, he came over unhappily and tried to pull him down, his mouth not idle either:

"You, hold your trash can and vomit in it"

(End of this chapter)