Chapter 333: This award was half forced out by Jiang Ci!
The stage curtains silently slid open amidst the mournful sound of the Xun.
A wash of deep blue light quietly poured onto the center of the stage.
Dozens of dancers clad in tattered, blood-stained armor slowly rose to their feet in ti with the Xun's lody.
Their movents were heavy and sluggish, as if dragging chains,
each turn, each lift of an arm, carried the desperate resolve of soone utterly spent.
An aura of tragic solemnity pressed down upon the entire hall.
As the music ended, the dancers collapsed, maintaining their battle-death postures, with no curtain call.
Spotlights flared, and a well-known host in a glittering tuxedo walked onto the stage.
His face wore a flawless, professional smile as he attempted to lighten the mood with a joke.
"After watching such a stunning performance, I almost thought I'd walked onto the wrong film set and wanted to grab a weapon to charge into battle for the Hegemon!"
As per custom, a wave of polite laughter should have rippled through the audience.
However, as the cara swept over the front row, the area reserved for *The Legend of Han and Chu* crew was a picture of somber intensity.
Qin Feng, Zhao Yingfei, Huang Shengqiu, and even Director Wei Song—none of them laughed, still imrsed in that profound sorrow.
The host's smile stiffened for a fraction of a second, his fingers unconsciously tightening around the microphone.
But he was, after all, a seasoned veteran. His pivot was asured in milliseconds,
the playful expression on his face instantly lting away, transforming into a solemn gravitas seemingly moved by the atmosphere.
"It seems tonight we are not rely attending an awards ceremony."
"We are accompanying the Hegemon, retracing his final journey along the Wu River."
As his words fell, thunderous applause erupted throughout the venue.
This seamless transition turned awkwardness into style, elevating the entire awards ceremony to an epic level.
"Next, we will present the first award of this year's Golden Rooster Awards!"
"【Best Art Direction Award】!"
The host announced loudly.
On the large screen, clips from the nominated works began to play.
When the footage switched to *The Legend of Han and Chu*, a collective gasp of shock echoed through the hall.
Julu. The Mass Grave.
Under dim, gloomy skies, the "corpses" of surrendered Qin Army soldiers were piled into mountains, rivers of blood flowing between them.
Tattered banners were planted atop the mountain of corpses, creating an aesthetic filled with a sense of deathly order.
The position of every single body, the angle of every banner, silently narrated the atrocities of war and the degradation of humanity.
A sense of suffocation pierced through the screen.
"The winner of this year's Golden Rooster Award for Best Art Direction is—"
"*The Legend of Han and Chu*, Master Chen Kai!"
Amidst applause, an elderly man with graying hair, dressed in a simple jacket, walked onto the stage.
He accepted the trophy and stepped up to the microphone.
Everyone expected him to deliver a standard acceptance speech.
But the very first sentence he uttered plunged the entire venue into silence.
"This award," Chen Kai raised the trophy, "is half forced out by Jiang Ci."
All caras focused on Jiang Ci in the front row.
The old man didn't even glance at him, continuing on his own.
"Many have praised the realism of the Hegemon's suicide by the Wu River in the film, saying that sense of fatalistic resolve is unmatched."
"But no one knows that before filming that scene, just for the prop sword Xiang Yu uses to commit suicide, Jiang Ci made our Props Team revise it nineteen tis."
The entire hall erupted in an uproar.
Chen Kai's voice carried clearly to every corner.
"Every ti he just said 'It's not right.' I asked him what was wrong, and he couldn't explain it clearly. He just kept testing the sword on set, over and over."
"Until the nineteenth ti, when we added three grams of weight to the hilt, he finally nodded."
"I was truly driven mad by him back then. I asked him what the hell he was trying to achieve."
Chen Kai paused. When he spoke again, his tone had beco as devoid of personal emotion as Jiang Ci's own, a simple statent of fact.
"He said, 'The resistance when swinging the sword is off. If it's three grams lighter, the weight of a hero going to his death is lost.'"
"Three grams lighter!"
The old man raised his voice, repeating it into the microphone.
"At that mont, I really wanted to take that sword and chop him. What does a rookie know about art props!"
A wave of laughter rippled through the audience below.
"But now," Chen Kai turned and faced Jiang Ci's direction, bowing deeply, "I thank him."
"He made understand that the truth in art lies not only in the grand scale, but also in those insignificant three grams of weight."
The caras focused on Jiang Ci.
He did not stand up, did not smile. Amidst the roaring applause, he rely gave an almost imperceptible, slight nod towards the stage.
The gesture seed more like an acknowledgnt.
An acknowledgnt of sothing that was simply as it should be.
In the back rows, Liu Wei, hearing those words "three grams lighter," couldn't suppress a shudder that ran through his body.
He finally understood where he had lost.
It wasn't a chasm in acting skill, but a pathological level of imrsion into a character.
Sothing he had long forgotten, perhaps never even possessed.
This was only the beginning.
【Best Cinematography Award】, 【Best Sound Effects Award】—one after another, they were claid by *The Legend of Han and Chu*.
The pace of the awards ceremony was alarmingly fast, as if pushed forward by an invisible hand.
With each announcent, the background music switched to the film's original score.
One mont it was the murderous tension of the Hongn Feast, the next the roaring chaos of the Pengcheng battle, then the stirring Chu Songs by the Wu River.
The entire awards ceremony had beco a showcase for *The Legend of Han and Chu*.
Jiang Ci sat expressionlessly, yet the fabric of his suit jacket on his back was already sticky with sweat.
He felt not as if he were sitting at an awards ceremony, but as if he were tied to a roasting spit,
with the blazing fire below ignited by his fellow crew mbers.
This public execution was more suffocating than any negative review.
The only thought in his mind now was: which pocket did Sun Zhou stuff that pack of wet wipes into this morning?
No good, the suit has no pockets.
Maybe pretend to adjust my collar and wipe with my sleeve?
No, the caras are watching.
Despair gripped him.
Just end it already, hurry up.
Just as he felt about to evaporate, Qin Feng beside him suddenly leaned over slightly, his voice extrely low.
"Hear that?"
Jiang Ci didn't move.
"This is what 'the play elevates the actor, the actor elevates the play' ans."
Qin Feng's voice was soft, yet carried the profound understanding of one who has weathered countless storms.
"You gave your all to perfect them. Today, they are using all this to perfect you."
Behind them, Wei Song's mouth stretched into a grin, smiling like a crafty old fox.
He had long known these old colleagues, driven half-mad by Jiang Ci, would do exactly this.
This was *The Legend of Han and Chu* crew's most dignified, yet most vicious, counterattack against all the slander and rumors.
They intended to personally place Jiang Ci upon the altar.
Finally, it was ti for the 【Best Screenplay Award】.
Without any suspense, the award was presented to *The Legend of Han and Chu*'s Head Screenwriter, Li Jun.
When Li Jun's na was called, this highly respected screenwriter within the industry stood up.
He did not imdiately walk towards the stage. Instead, he turned around, facing Jiang Ci in the front row.
Then, this titan of the industry, in front of all the caras, bowed deeply to that young man,
bending the spine he had held proudly for a lifeti.
The entire hall fell silent for a second.
Imdiately after, the dia Area erupted with a barrage of shutter sounds rivaling a battlefield charge.
Li Jun walked onto the stage, accepted the trophy, and remained silent for a long mont.
He began, "My script once tried to confine Xiang Yu with words, giving him only a skeleton."
He raised the trophy, his gaze traversing the sea of people, landing once more on Jiang Ci.
Word by word, his voice rang out firm and clear. "It was the actor who broke free from the constraints of paper, giving him a soul that will endure for eternity."
"Jiang Ci, thank you. You made understand that a true character is not 'written' into existence, but 'lived' into existence."
With the technical awards concluded, the host suddenly put away his smile,
his tone becoming exceptionally solemn. "The next award will be presented to the soul that blood in the direst of circumstances—Best Supporting Actress."
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