A song called "The You of the Past" has prompted the entire internet to beg me not to leav

September 30th, 8 PM.

The national premiere of "A Chinese Odyssey" has officially begun.

The Qianda Cinema was packed. The front rows were occupied by owners of major cinema chains across China, seasoned film critics, and reporters from hundreds of media outlets. The back rows held lucky fans selected through an official lottery.

Lin Yan and Shen Qingqiu sat in the center of the VIP section.

Lin Yan was wearing a baseball cap and holding a huge bucket of popcorn in his arms, munching away with a satisfying crunch, exuding a relaxed vibe.

Shen Qingqiu, wearing sunglasses, leaned quietly on his shoulder.

Zhang Dagang sat next to the two men, his legs shaking violently as if he were running a sewing machine, his suit pants almost rubbed raw by his sweaty hands.

"Hey Lao Zhang, what are you shaking for?" Lin Yan casually handed him a handful of popcorn. "Have some, sweet things can relieve anxiety."

"President Lin, how can I not be anxious!" Zhang Dagang lowered his voice, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "President Zhao and his group of theater owners are sitting in the front row, watching coldly, just waiting to make a fool of us!"

Lin Yan glanced at President Zhao, who had a receding hairline, in the first row and sneered, "Don't worry, they won't be laughing for long."

The lights went out.

The dragon emblem lights up, and the movie officially begins.

Five minutes into the show.

When Lin Yan, playing the role of Supreme Treasure, walked out with an extremely flamboyant appearance and a "cramp every seven steps" gait, and spat wildly at the blind man, the fans in the back row of the theater were the first to burst into heartless laughter.

The film critics and theater owners in the front row mostly leaned back in their chairs, some with their arms crossed, others shaking their heads slightly.

"The color grading and the dialogue are too fragmented."

Mr. Zhao commented in a low voice.

"A renowned director making such nonsensical parodies is just wasting his reputation and is not worthy of serious consideration."

However, as the plot unfolds...

The grape stem of the Bodhi Patriarch.

The scene where the second-in-command stomps out the fire in his lower body.

There's also that addictive "Only You" and Tang Sanzang's god-like rambling.

The barrage of jokes is like a Gatling gun, relentlessly and mercilessly firing at the audience's sense of humor.

Forty minutes into the film, not only were the fans in the back row laughing uproariously, but even the film critics in the front row, who had been keeping a composed demeanor, couldn't hold back their laughter.

The editor-in-chief of Independent Film Journal, who is known for his strictness, broke down and sprayed a mouthful of mineral water onto the back of the seat in front of him, clutching his stomach and laughing so hard he was panting.

"That's interesting."

Mr. Zhao's Mediterranean hairstyle was messed up by the shaking of his shoulders, but he remained stubborn.

"It does have comedic effect, but it's just pure toilet humor and doesn't qualify as a masterpiece."

The plot is halfway through.

Shen Qingqiu, who plays Zixia Fairy, leads a white horse and gracefully walks out of the reeds.

That aloof and ethereal beauty, yet with a lively wink at the camera, struck a chord with everyone watching from outside the big screen.

The entire theater seemed to have been instantly muted.

So beautiful.

It's a beauty that's so aggressive it makes you instinctively hold your breath.

"My God... the diva's eyes are so expressive! Her acting is absolutely amazing!"

One of the journalists realized what was happening and began frantically typing on his laptop.

Immediately afterwards, the pace of the plot abruptly came to an end.

The nonsensical humor is peeled back layer by layer to reveal the bloody lies, deception, betrayal, and fate beneath.

In order to save Zixia, Supreme Treasure found the golden headband in the Spider Cave.

The ethereal and aloof voice of Guanyin Bodhisattva echoed in the theater.

"Once you put on the golden headband, you are no longer a mortal; you can no longer indulge in any worldly desires. Before you put on this headband, is there anything else you want to say?"

On the big screen.

Lin Yan, who plays the role of Supreme Treasure, slowly lowers his head.

The close-up shot was shoved right into his face.

Gone is the previous exaggeration and humor; there is only a suffocating heartbreak, as if fate has choked you.

"There was once a sincere love placed in front of me, but I did not cherish it. When I lost it, I regretted it deeply. There is nothing more painful in the world than this."

"If God could give me another chance, I would say three words to that girl: I love you."

"If I had to put a time limit on this love, I would hope it would be... ten thousand years."

These lines struck like a heavy hammer blow to everyone's hearts.

The entire theater was so quiet that only increasingly heavy breathing could be heard.

Zhang Dagang secretly observed the front row from below. The editor-in-chief of "Independent Film Journal," who had been spraying water earlier, had quietly taken off his glasses and was secretly wiping the corner of his eye with his sleeve.

Mr. Zhao bit his lip hard, his eyes were so red they looked like he had conjunctivitis, but he was still stubbornly trying to save face.

The climax reached its peak.

The Great Sage returns, riding on auspicious seven-colored clouds, possessing boundless magical power, yet he can only watch helplessly as Zixia blocks the Bull Demon King's spear for him.

"My ideal man is a peerless hero. One day he will come to marry me riding on a seven-colored cloud. I guessed the beginning, but I couldn't guess the ending."

Zixia fell towards the sun.

Sun Wukong roared in agony as the golden headband on his head tightened, the pain piercing to his very bones, yet he clung tightly to Zixia's hand, refusing to let go.

The girls in the back row completely broke down and started crying, their sobs blending together.

The grand finale.

On the city wall.

The Sunset Warrior embraces the reincarnated Zixia, while Sun Wukong, carrying his golden cudgel, turns and departs alone beneath the city wall.

On the big screen, the samurai looked at Sun Wukong's back and said with a smile, "Look at that person, he looks like a dog."

At that very moment, the sound of a guitar began.

"The past is gone and will never return."

"Red fallen leaves are buried in the dust."

"The beginning and the end are always the same."

"You drift beyond the white clouds in the sky."

Lin Yan's voice, so weathered and seemingly having seen through countless lifetimes, exploded throughout the thousand-seat theater.

A decisive goal.

An utterly ruthless and decisive defeat.

Mr. Zhao, who had been struggling to hold on, had his mental defenses crumble when he heard the phrase "love and hate rise from the sea of ​​bitterness".

"Wow!"

This shrewd businessman in his fifties, a ruthless and decisive figure in the business world who controls half of China's cinema chain, was now like a little boy who had lost his beloved toy, leaning against his leather seat and wailing.

His face was covered in tears and snot; he had lost all semblance of a boss's dignity.

Nobody laughed at him.

Because everywhere you look, everyone in the audience is crying; no one can escape unscathed from this song and this tragic fate.

The comedic shell was completely torn apart, and the tragic core was sublimated to the depths of the soul by this song "A Lifetime of Love," deeply engraved into the marrow of everyone.

The movie has ended.

Black screen, scrolling text.

For a full three minutes, no one got up, no one spoke, only the sounds of people pulling out tissues and blowing their noses rose and fell.

Until the lights in the stadium came on.

The fans in the back row were the first to stand up, clapping frantically with red eyes.

Following them were film critics, media reporters, and finally, Mr. Zhao and a group of theater bigwigs who had just wiped away their tears.

In the 1,000-seat theater, everyone stood up.

The applause was thunderous, as if it would lift the roof off the theater.

Zhang Dagang was trembling with excitement. He turned to Lin Yan, his voice cracking, "President Lin, we did it! We fucking did it!"

Lin Yan clapped the popcorn crumbs off his hands, pulled Shen Qingqiu to his feet, and said calmly, "Basic stuff, don't be ridiculous."

Mr. Zhao stumbled over his seat and rushed to Lao Liang.

His eyes were bloodshot, and he clung tightly to Lao Liang's arm as if grasping at a lifeline.

"President Liang! Master Liang!" President Zhao's voice was hoarse, still choked with sobs, "Showtimes! I want more screenings!"

Old Liang was secretly overjoyed, but outwardly he feigned composure, slowly withdrawing his hand: "Oh, Mr. Zhao, we've signed the contract, thirty percent. Didn't you say at the beginning that this play was risky and wouldn't be good enough for the mainstream?"

"I'm talking nonsense! I'm blind! I'm blind!" President Zhao was so anxious that he jumped up and down, completely losing his composure.

"I'll call the distribution department right away. Tomorrow is the first day of the National Day holiday. Our Southern Cinemas will move up the release date for 'A Chinese Odyssey' by 80%! No! 85%! Cut all the other bad movies and only show this one!"

Mr. Li from the north, seeing this, got anxious and forced his way in, yelling, "I give it ninety percent! Mr. Liang, if this movie doesn't dominate the box office during the National Day holiday, I'll change my name!"

Watching these usually aloof capital tycoons frantically scrambling for movie screenings like ordinary street aunties, Lao Liang thought to himself, "This is a classic case of 'it's so good'!"

He peeked through the gaps in the crowd and stole a glance at Lin Yan, who was heading towards the safety exit.

This man is terrifying.