Now everything is clear, and the audience’s applause is the proof.
The main event that follows is the Q&A session with the reporters. They see the effect first, then accept the interviews, taking the chance to reveal so ’unknown’ ’insider’ information to attract more people to watch. This is the standard routine for movie promotion.
This ti, there’s an added highlight in the routine, which is inviting a young Chinese prodigy, the original author of the novel, a ranch owner from China, Yan Fei.
"Hi, Yan Fei!" While waiting to take interviews after the curtain call, suddenly from the crowd, a black man sneaks over and shows Yan Fei a slightly awkward smile—not that it looks bad, maybe just feeling a bit awkward about initiating the greeting.
"Hello." Yan Fei nodded at him with a smile. He could sense this person ca with goodwill; if it were malice, he wouldn’t have squeezed in so close, especially with his wife nearby.
"I heard you’re skilled in Chinese Kung Fu?" The person asked directly, realizing afterward it might have been impolite, and quickly added a self-introduction. "Hello, I’m Michael Gayheart. A third-rate actor, particularly curious about Chinese Kung Fu."
"Well, I just know a bit about it, not exactly a master." Yan Fei said humbly.
"Could I have your contact information to visit you at a convenient ti?" Michael Gayheart said, then added again. "I can provide you so news. Among the reporters here today, a few might not be very friendly to you. Hmm, like that blonde beauty over there—don’t be fooled by her appearance, she actually has a heart like a devil. She’s not very friendly towards people of color and likes making a na by publishing negative news."
Yan Fei believed in Gayheart’s claim of being a third-rate actor, not because he only knew of Michael Jackson, but because, from his conversational skills, this Michael Gayheart was definitely not a master in communication. With this talking style, it would likely be difficult to be successful in the entertainnt circle.
In fact, Michael Gayheart wasn’t a professional actor to begin with. He is sowhat like Rock Johnson, also transitioning from an athlete. However, Michael Gayheart’s Kung Fu is more impressive; he’s been practicing martial arts since seven and holds black belts in seven different martial arts, hardly an exaggeration to call him a martial arts fanatic.
But because of this, his acting roles are relatively narrow. Although he has participated in many films, he’s not as famous in the martial arts community.
Yan Fei didn’t know this actor beforehand, but he could sense the goodwill from the other party. After all, nobody could sense emotions better than him. Although the goodwill shown was quite clumsy, that wasn’t the point.
Also, Gayheart’s reminder made Yan Fei recall the director’s words from yesterday’s dinner: if encountering malicious reporters, just one word: fight!
You are just a novelist, an amateur one at that. Are you afraid of those nonsense-talking reporters? There’s no need to be afraid.
As long as you avoid being overly critical, you can use any thod to confront those reporters. There’s no need to worry, no need to care about the consequences; after all, you’re a literary author, not a star in the entertainnt industry. Showing so toughness might even gain more support and make your na and novel more popular—the benefits of increased fa are obvious, and how can you get famous without so hype?
Of course, Spielberg wouldn’t put it that way; that’s just Yan Fei’s understanding. As a great director, Spielberg couldn’t compare to Yan Fei in terms of freedom of speech.
"Thanks!" Yan Fei certainly had to thank the person who ca over with goodwill. "Maybe we can talk more after this; it’s probably not the right ti now?"
Gayheart followed his gaze to see Spielberg preparing to organize people to go on stage for the interviews!
"You go ahead, I just think... you go ahead!" Gayheart hesitated for a mont and then smiled, stepping aside. "Rember, be careful of the reporter from Peanuts Stew Shit newspaper, Beqi Si. She’s a pretty well-known journalist from that paper, famous for finding negative news about you folks over there. Don’t let her provoke you, stay calm."
"Okay, I’ll find you later. Give a number, I have a good mory and will rember it." Yan Fei said softly as he headed outside.
Gayheart recited his phone number, and Yan Fei replied with an okay gesture, smiling as he walked up.
...
As the host saw him on stage, he imdiately called out his na: "Coming on stage is the author of ’When Aircraft Carriers et Dinosaurs’, the genius young man from China, Yan Fei!"
Applause broke out!
"Hello everyone!" Yan Fei leaped onto the stage with ease, looking relaxed. "I’m the author being praised as a genius teenager, Yan Fei. Actually, my real identity is not a writer, but a cowboy, as you would call it—a cowboy from China."
The applause beca even more enthusiastic, clearly, this vibrant and sunny teenager was quite popular. Also, many reporters found this young cowboy author, so different from most imagined writers, to be more intriguing.
Quickly, the first reporter raised a hand: "Mr. Yan Fei, based on my observations, I think you seem different from our cowboys here? Hmm, lacking that sense of having experienced life’s hardships and trials. Are all cowboys in China like you?"
"Indeed, as we all know, our country is vast and has a long history. The history of cattle farming in our country is over six thousand years. Six thousand years ago, poets in our country wrote about cows. For example, ’Old cattle know the late sunset, don’t whip the cane, will briskly step’; ’The shepherd boy rides the yellow cow, his song echoes in the woods’. Translated into Chinese, it takes only fourteen and ten characters, respectively."
"Because of this, our cowboys are sowhat different from yours. However, our beef is the sa, I can assure you that, because last month, my ranch’s Morning Glory brand beef just received top ratings here."
Suddenly, there was a burst of amazent and laughter below. Amazent for the six thousand years of history, laughter because of Boss Yan’s blatant advertisent for his ranch’s beef brand—running to Hollywood’s movie premiere to advertise one’s own beef, such a rancher is probably unique and unmatched.
Soone even shouted out directly: "Mr. Yan Fei, are you taking the chance to advertise?"
Yan Fei nodded seriously: "You guys caught , huh?"
Another wave of laughter followed.
These days, many Aricans don’t really understand China; many still think Chinese people must be rigid and conservative. Yan Fei’s candid, and humorous way of talking imdiately gained recognition from many people.
"So Mr. Yan Fei, may I ask why you thought of writing such a novel?" Another reporter asked.
"Aside from being a cowboy, I also have the identity of soone my age, a student," Yan Fei replied with a smile. "I’m just a freshman this year, and it’s quite normal for a young person like to have an author dream, right?"
"Everyone knows that lately, lots of strange things have happened all over the world. Everyone has different views on these events, and for a young man who loves to imagine, choosing such events as a novel’s subject seems alright, doesn’t it?"
Yan Fei said without the slightest embarrassnt.
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