Taking Liu Yifei back to Northeast China for the Chinese New Year has sent the entire internet into

"Bang!"

Qi Wenhai finally couldn't hold back and slammed the rough porcelain bowl in his hand heavily onto the table.

That was quite a commotion.

Chen Daoming, He Zheng, and the others, who had just finished drinking, all turned to look over.

Qi Wenhai stopped pretending.

His usual air of aloofness had long been washed away by half a jin of strong liquor and a belly full of pent-up frustration.

He pointed to the people around the table.

"You lot have all made all the arrangements, so I'm the only one going back empty-handed today?"

Chen Daoming slowly put down his cup and chuckled, "Old Qi, where did this sudden burst of anger come from?"

"Where did you come from?"

Qi Wenhai blew his beard and glared, first pointing at Shen Weimin.

"You, Lao Shen! You got Xiao Fang all the awards for 'Dragon Scales of Heaven and Earth' and 'Brightness,' plus the calligraphy for the Forbidden City."

"You're practically strutting around like a madman these days, aren't you?!"

Shen Weimin pretended to cough, his eyes drifting towards the large iron pot in the corner of the yard, but he didn't dare to respond.

Qi Wenhai turned his head and pointed fiercely at He Zheng.

"And you, Lao He!"

"You're even worse!"

"Not only did they freeload a top-notch Northeastern feast at my place, but they also stole a legendary martial arts theme song that could go down in film history, and even tricked me into doing a cameo role in a movie!"

"Your lousy movie's release will at least create an extra 200 million in box office revenue out of thin air!"

He Zheng grinned and slammed the empty bowl onto the table:

"Old Qi, what kind of talk is that? That's artistic resonance! It's a sincere invitation!"

"Art my foot!"

Finally, Qi Wenhai's gaze fell on Fang Yu, and he spoke softly:

"Xiao Fang, last time at Xishan Courtyard, I reserved a spot for you in the Young Artists Nomination Exhibition."

He sighed and picked up his teacup to moisten his throat.

"You have no idea, after I went back, I almost bragged to those old men at the art academy until my bragging almost fell apart."

"I said I had met a genius who was proficient in both calligraphy and painting. His slender gold style calligraphy had reached its peak, and his splashed ink paintings were a natural masterpiece."

"As a result, those old guys kept pestering me to see your new work!"

At this point, Qi Wenhai slapped his thigh in frustration.

"And you, on the other hand, turned to singing and filming TV shows, and now you want to act! Do you even remember you were a grandmaster of traditional Chinese painting?!"

Sitting next to Fang Yu, Liu Yifei was already laughing so hard she couldn't stand up straight. She leaned softly against Fang Yu's arm, her shoulders swaying back and forth.

The dignified head of the National Academy of Painting was forced by Fang Yu to become an impatient old man urging for more updates online.

Fang Yu was equally decisive.

Today's feast was a joy for both host and guests, and things went smoothly.

He picked up the wine bottle and poured the empty bowl in front of Qi Wenhai into it.

"Mr. Qi, this is indeed my fault. I'm too busy with all the different tasks."

Fang Yu picked up his bowl and clinked it against Qi Wenhai's.

"Don't worry about it."

"When is the youth exhibition held? How many calligraphy pieces and paintings are needed?"

"Just give me a detailed list, and I, Fang Yu, will cover everything for you!"

He drank the wine in the bowl dry and grinned.

"I guarantee you'll be able to hold your head higher than Director Shen in front of those senior figures at the art academy!"

Qi Wenhai's eyes lit up instantly, his resentment vanished, and he even hurriedly picked up the wine bowl:

"You said it yourself!"

Qi Wenhai slammed his hand on the table, fearing that Fang Yu would change his mind:

"By mid-next month! I need two pieces of calligraphy and two paintings. The subject matter is not limited, but you must demonstrate the same artistic conception and skill as your painting of black persimmons!"

"All done, I guarantee you'll be satisfied."

Fang Yu agreed so readily and decisively.

……

This Northeastern feast lasted from noon until evening.

The firewood in the large iron pot gradually died down, and the bottles of strong liquor were all emptied.

A night breeze began to blow through the film and television base, carrying a hint of early spring chill.

Zhou Zheng arranged for cars to take the big shots, who were all quite drunk, out one by one.

Before getting into the car, He Zheng, holding Fang Yu's hand, drunkenly instructed:

"That fantasy/xia script... remember to send it to me!"

"I've had the assistant director check the call sheet for that cameo role with your agent!"

After saying that, he patted Fang Yu's shoulder with considerable force.

"Kid, don't keep me waiting too long!"

Chen Daoming remained clear-headed and restrained.

Before getting into the car, he simply stood by the door, gave Fang Yu a deep look, nodded slightly, and smiled as he uttered four words:

"The younger generation is truly formidable."

The car door slid shut, and the red taillights pierced the night, gradually disappearing at the end of the winding road at Huairou Film and Television Base.

The noise subsided, and the courtyard finally became completely quiet.

Fang Yu stretched out a big yawn.

A night breeze blew, and the effects of the alcohol dissipated considerably.

"Let's go, we should head back too."

Fang Yu turned his head and looked at Liu Yifei beside him.

Liu Yifei naturally took his arm and leaned half her weight gently against him.

Under the cool moonlight, the two walked side by side toward the black van not far away.

As the car door opened, the constant temperature of the warm air from the car's heater hit you.

Fang Yu sank into the wide, soft airline seat, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes to rest.

Today's game, involving cooking, playing instruments, singing, and dealing with these shrewd old foxes, has taken a lot of energy.

The van started smoothly and slowly drove onto the Jingcheng Expressway back to Beijing.

The carriage was quiet, with only the slight sound of tires rolling over the road.

Liu Yifei took off her heavy coat, revealing a fitted beige turtleneck sweater underneath.

She turned to the side, bent her legs and placed them on the edge of the leather seat, rested her delicate chin on one hand, and stared intently at Fang Yu, who was resting with his eyes closed.

The neon lights outside the car window shone on her fair, porcelain-like profile, creating a breathtaking interplay of light and shadow.

Although Fang Yu's eyes were closed, that burning gaze was like a laser beam and could not be ignored at all.

"Have you seen enough?"

Fang Yu didn't even lift his eyelids.

"Let's see what the fees are."

Liu Yifei gave a soft snort and poked his arm with her index finger.

"Fang Yu, you've been hiding your true intentions well."

Fang Yu opened his eyes and turned to look at her.

"What am I hiding? Haven't you seen every part of me before?"

"Be serious!"

Liu Yifei blushed, glared at him, and then lowered her voice.

"When did you write the script? I had no idea!"

Fang Yu adjusted his posture, found a comfortable angle to curl up, and casually replied:

"You just write when you have nothing to do, is that so strange?"

"You think I spend all my free time watching movies and playing video games? I..."

"Stop, stop, stop!"

Liu Yifei covered his mouth, interrupting his rambling.

"Skip the mutual flattery segment!"

She withdrew her hand, her clear, large eyes gleaming with an intense thirst for knowledge:

"I'm genuinely curious... what exactly is this 'fantasy martial arts' concept that you were talking about with Director He at the dinner table today? How is it different from traditional martial arts martial arts?"

At the dinner table, Fang Yu mentioned "flying on a sword," but that was too one-sided.

She wanted to hear the details.