Life countdown begins, ice queen bursts into security room

The hotel scenes were filmed over three days, a day ahead of Ning Yuan's estimate.

These people have honed their skills on the stage for over a decade, and they actually got into character much faster in front of the camera than expected.

For the first two days, Ning Yuan corrected the questions one by one with a walkie-talkie, but by the third day, he did so less and less.

Shen Feng's growth rate was the most outrageous.

Two days ago, he occasionally used a theatrical tone and exaggerated his expressions, but by the fourth day, he seemed like a completely different person.

Ning Yuan rarely praised him.

On the afternoon of September 30th, the film crew entered the campus.

The old items that the props team collected have all been put back in their places.

An enamel mug, a blackboard with peeling paint, and two lines of red slogans pasted on the brick wall—

"Study hard and make progress every day."

Ning Yuan walked around the classroom, kicked the cracked desk with his foot, and nodded.

"Plug-in position."

This scene is a key moment in the entire film—

Charlotte travels back in time, pushes open the classroom door, and sees the desks and blackboard from more than ten years ago.

There are no long monologues or complicated staging.

It's a person standing at the door, facing a classroom full of students.

Shen Feng flexed his wrists a couple of times in the corridor and took three deep breaths.

"Action!"

The wooden door to the classroom was pushed open, and sunlight streamed in through the windows, with dust particles floating in the beams of light.

Shen Feng stood at the door, stunned for three seconds.

There were no lines; he just stood there.

At first, I was bewildered—my eyes rolled halfway around and landed on the desk in the third row that was missing a corner.

Then, in disbelief, his lips opened and closed again, and his Adam's apple bobbed.

Finally, something indescribable welled up inside—

Her eyes were red, but she didn't shed any tears; instead, the corners of her mouth turned up slightly.

Three seconds, three layers of emotion, with the transition between each layer clearly discernible.

Ning Yuan watched the replay the first time, and then watched it a second time.

He took off his headphones, placed them on the table, and gave Jiang Fan, who was sitting in the corner, a thumbs-up.

Jiang Fan nodded, holding his thermos.

Ning Yuan slapped his thigh and stood up.

"That's enough. We're done."

-

Jiang Fan returned to the temporary office area and checked his phone.

Song Siyi sent several messages.

"Song Siyi: Over one million favorites. Over two hundred thousand paid subscriptions."

"Song Siyi: President Chen specifically called me to his office today and asked me to tell you—you will be given the highest author honor on the site at the end of the year."

Jiang Fan typed a reply.

Jiang Fan: I don't need the honor, just play the games on time for the share of the winnings.

Song Siyi: Get lost, at least they were sincere.

After a few seconds' pause, another one came in—

"Song Siyi: Readers in the comments section have jointly urged for more updates, demanding 10,000 words a day, and some have even threatened to put up banners at the headquarters. You'd better be aware of this."

Jiang Fan opened the screenshot she had taken.

"What can you do with four thousand words! Author, come out here!"

"If you don't update 10,000 words a day, I'll go outside and unfurl a banner!"

"Brothers, let's go! Let the author see our sincerity!"

"Author, listen to me! I can go without food and sleep, but you can't stop updating!"

After reading it, he replied.

Jiang Fan: Tomorrow is the 11th, I have things to do these next few days.

There was a full ten seconds of silence on the other end.

Song Siyi: Are you serious?

Jiang Fan: Seriously.

The next few came quickly and urgently—

"Song Siyi: Jiang Fan! It's the first week of the new book's release! The peak time for reader traffic! I only have two days left of my drafts! If I don't update for a few days, the readers will bombard the comments section with insults!"

Song Siyi: Do you know how much less money you'll earn if you lose a certain number of subscribers every day?

Song Siyi: ...Sometimes you are really hard to understand.

-

Jiang Fan turned off his phone and wandered alone to the edge of the playground.

In the middle of the playground is a white cement basketball hoop, most of the paint has peeled off, and the net on the rim is long gone.

The autumn wind blows, carrying a hint of coolness.

My phone vibrated.

It is Xu Qingya.

Xu Qingya: I'll be going on stage tomorrow night.

Jiang Fan: Nervous?

Xu Qingya: A little. After all, hundreds of millions of people are watching.

"Jiang Fan: You've already performed at a concert for 70,000 people, the National Day Gala is just a different venue."

Xu Qingya: It's different. At a concert, the audience is full of fans; at the National Day Gala, the audience is full of leaders.

Jiang Fan thought for two seconds.

Jiang Fan: Just pretend that everyone sitting in the audience is a fan.

About four or five seconds later, a voice message came through.

Jiang Fan clicked on it—

Xu Qingya's voice had a slightly nasal quality.

"I miss you."

Jiang Fan stared at his phone for two seconds, then typed a message instead of replying to the voice message.

Jiang Fan: When you come back after your performance, I'll treat you to a welcome-back dinner.

Xu Qingya: Okay.

-

October 1st. National Day.

The film crew didn't take a break; they took advantage of the students' holiday to quickly film all the school scenes.

We filmed for a full twelve hours during the day.

At 8 p.m., Jiang Fan returned to his hotel room and switched the TV to CCTV-1.

He was alone, leaning against the headboard, with the remote control beside him.

In the video, the stage is smaller than the stadium, but the scale and design are on completely different levels.

The sheer scale of this national-level display speaks for itself; the position of every single piece on the stage was measured with a ruler.

The backdrop features a huge national flag in shades of red and gold, with restrained and dignified lighting.

The audience was filled with people sitting upright, and their applause was uniform.

The preceding programs came one after another, including singing and dancing, recitation, and folk music ensemble.

Xu Qingya's program was the second one before the finale.

Jiang Fan waited for nearly forty minutes before the host's voice came from the television—

"The next song is an original work that the China Civilization Office is highlighting this year. The lyricist and composer is Jiang Fan, and the singer is Xu Qingya."

The scene cuts to that point.

Xu Qingya walked out from the left side of the stage.

A beige long cheongsam, fitted at the waist, with the hem reaching the ankles.

Her hair was pulled up high, revealing her entire face and the lines behind her ears. She wore no earrings or necklaces, looking clean and tidy.

She stood in the center of the stage.

The intro begins.

"You are the distant road, the light in the thick fog of the mountains—"

A music video produced by the China Civilization Office was playing simultaneously on the large screen behind them.

Black and white images were unearthed from old film, showing factories, rice paddies, and schools in the early days of the People's Republic of China.

The images move forward frame by frame, from the 1950s to the 1970s, from the reform and opening up to the new century.

One generation grows old, and the next generation rises up.

The last set of shots in the music video is an aerial shot.

High-speed trains traverse the plains, airplanes soar into the sky, and the city skyline lights up in the morning light.

Xu Qingya's voice and the image overlapped.

"The mountains and rivers are safe and sound, and the fireworks of life are as usual—"

"But your wishful gaze—"

As the last line fades, the final notes dissipate.

Xu Qingya put down the microphone and bowed to the audience.

Applause erupted.

The applause was uniform and lasted for a long time.

The television screen switched to the audience seats—

An elderly man with white hair in the front row took off his glasses and wiped the corner of his eye with the back of his hand.

Several middle-aged men in formal attire nearby were also applauding.

The applause lasted for almost half a minute.

This wasn't the screaming of fans, nor the frenzy of the audience.

They are a group of people who are least easily moved, and they expressed their approval in the most restrained way.

Jiang Fan turned off the TV, and the room became dark.

There were sporadic sounds of fireworks in the distance outside the window.

He picked up his phone and opened Weibo.

The National Day Gala live broadcast hadn't even ended yet, and the trending topics were already exploding.

#Xu Qingya's wish to attend the National Day Gala comes true# - the number one trending topic in real time.

Jiang Fan picked up his phone and sent a message to Xu Qingya.

Jiang Fan: I've seen it all. You did a great job.

The message was sent, but no reply was received immediately.

The backstage area for the National Day Gala must be bustling with activity.

Ten minutes later, the phone lit up.

Xu Qingya replied with a single word.

Xu Qingya: Mm.

A few more seconds passed.

Xu Qingya: Wait for me to come back.