After being dumped by the diva, I was picked up by her arch-enemy.

Los Angeles.

5:40 a.m.

The hotel suites were already full of people.

Chen Ge was wearing pajamas with a coat over them.

Chen Hao held his laptop, repeatedly refreshing the Oscars website.

Tan Yunxiao stood by the window, holding an unlit cigarette in his hand.

It's nighttime in China.

Xu Zhiyou and Gu Ruanxing were video chatting.

Xu Zhiyou was holding a bucket of popcorn.

Gu Ruanxing had a notebook in front of her, her expression even more serious than if she were attending a board meeting.

Jiang Yichen leaned back on the sofa.

Holding a coffee in my hand.

Chen Hao glanced at him.

"Brother Chen, is there something in this cup this time?"

Jiang Yichen lowered his head and took a sip.

"It's hot."

"I don't believe you. Last time in Cannes, you drank from an empty glass twice."

"That's because the service in France was subpar."

Chen Ge glared at the two of them.

"Shut up."

The room immediately became quiet.

The live stream has started.

Two hosts walked onto the stage.

The technical awards will be announced first.

"Best Costume Design Nomination -"

After reading the first few names.

The host looked down at the card.

"Farewell My Concubine".

Chen Hao clenched his fist suddenly.

"The first one!"

Followed by.

Best photography.

Farewell My Concubine.

Best editing.

Farewell My Concubine.

Best makeup and hairstyling.

Farewell My Concubine.

Four nominations.

Chen Ge sat on the sofa, motionless.

Only the hands resting on the knees clenched tighter and tighter.

Best original screenplay.

The host read out the fourth name.

Jiang Yichen, Farewell My Concubine.

In the video, Xu Zhiyou jumped up.

"The script was nominated too!"

The popcorn in her hand spilled all over the floor.

Gu Ruanxing looked down.

"Sweep it yourself."

"Is it time to sweep now?"

No. So don't step on it.

Xu Zhiyou quickly pulled her foot back.

No one in the hotel had time to laugh.

The real heavyweight award has arrived.

Best International Film.

Posters for five movies appeared on the screen.

"Farewell My Concubine" is listed last.

The fifth item.

Best director.

The host paused after reading out two names.

"Chen Ge, "Farewell My Concubine"."

Chen Ge closed his eyes.

My breathing stopped for two seconds.

Chen Hao rushed over and hugged him tightly.

"Director Chen!"

"You've been nominated!"

Chen Ge raised her hand and pushed his face away.

"Stop being so mushy." The voice was a little hoarse. "There are still some awards to read."

The seventh item.

Best Actor.

French veteran actor Pierre was among them.

Two Hollywood Best Actor winners are among them.

The last name.

"Jiang Yichen, "Farewell My Concubine"."

Jiang Yichen's image appeared on the screen.

The photo is not a red carpet photo.

Instead, it's a still from the play where Cheng Dieyi is dressed as Yu Ji, looking back at the camera.

No one spoke in the room.

After winning the Cannes Best Actor award, he is once again in contention for the world's highest acting award.

Twenty-three years old.

My first starring film.

Oscar nomination for Best Actor.

Tan Yunxiao finally broke the unlit cigarette in half.

"Third brother."

"If Master were still here, we could drink a whole jar of it today."

Jiang Yichen looked at the screen.

He gets drunk after drinking half a jar.

"I'll take the remaining half jar for him."

Tan Yunxiao turned around, her eyes a little red.

The live stream continues.

The list of Best Picture winners was finally announced.

This time, everyone sat up straight.

The Academy Award for Best Picture is open to all countries and languages.

This is the most significant award of the entire awards season.

It is also a door that Chinese-language films have never truly stepped into for decades.

Part One.

The Gate of God.

A new film by top Hollywood director Marcus.

The production cost was two hundred million US dollars.

He received the most nominations this year, with eleven.

Part Two.

The Old Man at Dusk.

Part Three.

Eye of the Storm.

One by one, names appeared.

There are only two spots left.

Chen Hao's palms were sweaty.

"No way..."

"Eight is already a lot."

"They're really not going to give it Best Picture, are they?"

The host opened the last card.

"Farewell My Concubine".

Chen Hao jumped up from the sofa.

"Best Picture!"

"Jiang Yichen, "Farewell My Concubine"."

.......

Two months after "Farewell My Concubine" received numerous Oscar nominations.

Los Angeles, Dolby Theatre.

On the night of the Oscars ceremony.

Jiang Yichen sat in the center of the fourth row.

A black tuxedo, with a fish-gut sword brooch pinned to the collar.

The silver blade shimmered faintly under the spotlight.

Chen Ge sat to his left.

Tan Yunxiao is on the right.

Chen Hao sat in the back row, his legs shaking the whole time.

"Can you stop shaking?" Tan Yunxiao turned his head.

"I couldn't control it," Chen Hao said weakly. "My hands were ice cold."

Jiang Yichen did not turn around.

He looked at the stage.

His facial expression was very flat.

But he tapped lightly on the armrest with his right index finger.

The frequency was twice as fast as the heartbeat.

The technical awards have already been presented.

"Farewell My Concubine" won Best Costume Design and Best Cinematography.

Chen Ge went on stage to accept the Best Cinematography award.

The old man was dressed in a suit and tie, and he hadn't buttoned a single button wrong today.

The ceremony was in its third hour.

The host stood in the center of the stage, his voice carrying throughout the theater through the microphone.

"Next up is one of the most important performance awards of the evening."

The large screen lights up.

Performance clips from the five nominees were played in turn.

First, Marcus Weber. *God's Gate*.

A veteran American actor. 71 years old. Three-time award winner.

In the clip, he slumps on a church pew, wiping away tears from the corners of his eyes with his wrinkled hands.

Second, Pierre Duval. "The Old Man in the Twilight".

The French national treasure, who narrowly lost at Cannes, is making a comeback this time.

In the clip, he sits at the piano, his fingers hovering, his face showing a blank expression as if he wants to play but can't recall the piece.

Third, David Parker. *Eye of the Storm*.

A rising star from the UK. He received a nomination for his political thriller.

Fourth place: Ken Matsumoto. "The Silent River".

An actor from an island nation. Playing the role of a taciturn, working-class father.

At last.

Cheng Dieyi appeared on the screen.

Excerpt from a denunciation meeting.

Jiang Yichen knelt on the stage.

He had a playing card hanging around his neck.

There is a smile on the corner of the mouth.

His eyes were empty and hollow.

We promised to be together forever.

The moment that sound came from the speakers, someone in the Dolby Theatre gasped.

The clip is only fifteen seconds long.

But the atmosphere in the room changed.

Chen Hao gripped his pants tightly at his knees.

He pinched the fabric until it was wrinkled.

The award presenters walked onto the stage.

It was Hollywood legend Elizabeth Moore.

Eighty-two years old.

Two Oscars.

He leaned on a cane, but his back was straight.

She took the envelope.

The entire audience held their breath.

Elizabeth opened the envelope.

I glanced down.

Her lips twitched slightly.

Then she looked up and looked at the fourth row.

"I personally have no doubt about this year's award."

Her voice was old but clear.

The entire place was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

"The Oscarsto——"

Elizabeth gripped the card tightly.

"JiangYichen".

""FarewellMyConcubine"."

Fourth row.

Tan Yunxiao suddenly stood up.

The chair's hinges clicked loudly.

He turned around, grabbed Jiang Yichen's shoulders with both hands, and shook him hard twice.

"Third brother!"

Jiang Yichen sat in his seat.

Didn't move.

He looked away from the stage and glanced down at his hands.

My hands are shaking.

Chen Ge sat down next to him, reached out and placed her hand on the back of his hand.

The old man didn't say anything.

I just pressed it hard.

Then loosen it.

"go."

One word.

Jiang Yichen stood up.

A thunderous applause erupted from the audience.

He got up from his seat.

Enter the corridor.

More than two thousand people were watching him.

Hollywood stars on both sides stood up and applauded.

Marcus Weber was the first to stand up.

Pierre Duval stood up and nodded slightly to him.

Jiang Yichen walked up the steps.

Elizabeth Moore stood center stage, holding the Oscar statuette in her hands.

Jiang Yichen walked up to her.

Elizabeth handed him the trophy.

Then she released her cane and took Jiang Yichen's hands in her own.

"young people."

She moved closer, and her voice was audible to only the two of them.

"I've lived for eighty-two years. I've seen countless performances."

"Your Cheng Dieyi reminds me of how I felt when I was twenty-five and standing on this stage."