Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 159 The Southern Reefs and Old Explorations

Southern Cinema Alliance Headquarters.

Zhujiang New Town, Guangzhou.

The executive meeting room at Wanda Pictures was filled with smoke.

A dozen or so people sat around the long conference table, each with a different expression.

On the projection screen was the steep upward curve of the box office for "Broken Bridge" in two hundred cinemas in northern China.

Zhao Donglai, head of Wanda Cinemas, tapped his knuckles lightly on the warm coffee cup, but the liquid inside remained completely still.

"Chen Yan has acquired two hundred independent cinemas in the north. He used the money he brought back from Europe to upgrade the equipment. Now he controls 40% of the box office in the north."

Zhao Donglai put down his cup; his voice was soft, but it silenced the meeting room.

The representative from Jinyi Cinemas tapped on the table.

"He wants to replicate this model in the south. Yesterday, Yanying Culture's acquisition team contacted thirty independent cinemas in Shenzhen and Dongguan. The prices they offered were 20% higher than the market price."

Zhao Donglai looked at the data on the screen.

"We cannot allow him to cross the Yangtze River."

Zhao Donglai said, "Lu Haiming went to jail, but the move he made was very useful. After Zhou Man's article was published, audiences in the south started to ask for refunds."

"Isn't a 3% screening rate too low? After all, 'Broken Bridge' has the Palme d'Or. We'll also lose box office revenue."

Representatives from Dadi Cinemas raised objections.

Zhao Donglai stubbed out his cigar, the butt making a hissing sound in the crystal ashtray.

"This isn't a box office issue; it's a matter of taking sides."

He stood up, looked around at everyone, and said, "Chen Yan wants to build his own cinema chain, which is tantamount to taking away our livelihood. Trading the loss of one movie for the bankruptcy of Yanying Culture is a worthwhile deal."

"Notify all cinema managers to tear down the posters for 'Broken Bridge' and replace them with Hollywood popcorn posters."

……

BJ.

Yanying Culture Headquarters.

Su Wan's desk was piled high with documents, and three landlines kept ringing in turn, like a never-ending alarm.

"Mr. Zhang, we will pay the penalty for breach of contract as stipulated. However, we hope you will reconsider the withdrawal of investment."

After hanging up the phone, Su Wan pressed her throbbing temples.

On the computer screen, the gossip section of Tianya Forum had been flooded with Zhou Man's articles.

Title: The Crimes Behind the Palme d'Or: Chen Yan, What Can You Offer to Comfort the Souls of Those Who Died in 1995?

The content was highly inflammatory, detailing the horrific scene of the 1995 Jingtong Expressway collapse, and included several black-and-white photos of the scene. It portrayed Chen Jianguo as a corrupt engineer who, for the sake of his son's future, did not hesitate to accept bribes and use substandard building materials.

The words at the end of the article were venomous: "Chen Yan used 'Broken Bridge' to package himself as a hero, but the red carpet beneath his feet was paved with the bones of workers and the ill-gotten gains of his father."

There are already more than 10,000 comments below.

Boycott "Broken Bridge"! Boycott Chen Yan!

"Refund the tickets! Return the money to the deceased's family!"

"So he's the son of a corrupt official. No wonder he was able to go abroad and win awards."

Zhang Yuan pushed open the door and came in, holding a stack of reports in his hand.

"Sister Su, several cinemas in the north are issuing refunds. In Harbin, someone splashed red paint on the glass door of the Hongqi Cinema."

Zhang Yuan placed the report on the table.

Su Wan looked at the negative numbers on the report.

Security has been increased. Cinemas are operating normally. Conflicts with audience members are strictly prohibited.

Su Wan issued the order.

Where is Lin Qingqiu?

"The training ground in the basement."

The training ground in the basement.

The sandbag was sent flying upwards by the heavy punch, and the iron chains groaned under the strain.

Lin Qingqiu was wearing a gray sports vest, and her short hair was soaked with sweat and stuck to her scalp.

Her hands were wrapped in bandages, with red blood seeping from the edges.

Left hook, right straight punch, side kick.

Each strike produced a dull thud, and sweat dripped down her jawline, hitting the ground.

[Edited] The hideous scar on his arm distorted under the light.

Chen Yan pushed open the iron gate of the training ground and walked down the steps.

Lin Qingqiu stopped moving, her chest heaving violently.

She turned around and looked at Chen Yan.

Chen Yan walked up to the sandbag and reached out to press down on the shaking sandbag.

"Have you seen the news online?"

Lin Qingqiu unwrapped the bandages on her hands, wrapping them around and around to reveal her raw, chapped knuckles.

"I've seen it."

She threw the bandage into the trash can.

Are you scared?

Lin Qingqiu walked to the bench and picked up a towel to wipe his sweat.

"All I know is that without you, I'd still be dancing in that lousy theater troupe, and when my back injury flares up, I can only take painkillers."

Lin Qingqiu draped a towel around her neck. "They say you're the son of a corrupt official, but I don't care."

"I only have one question," Lin Qingqiu looked directly into Chen Yan's eyes, "When will the next film start? Do I need to kill someone, or set a fire?"

Chen Yan looked at the fire in her eyes.

"Stay fit. Wait for my message."

Chen Yan turned and left.

……

The family compound of Laochangjie Police Station.

Liang Qinian's residence was an old one-bedroom house with peeling paint and the living room was filled with cardboard boxes, all of which were files.

Chen Yan stood by the window, looking down at the rusty bicycle.

Wearing reading glasses, Liang Qinian rummaged through a pile of yellowed documents, dust swirling in the beam of light.

"Found it."

Liang Qinian pulled out a brown paper bag, untied the white thread binding it, and poured out several documents.

"This is the geological exploration report for the seventh section in 1995. I secretly made a copy of it back then."

Liang Qinian spread the documents out on the coffee table.

Chen Yan walked over, picked up the document; the paper was brittle, and the printed text was somewhat blurry.

Chen Yan's fingertips swept over the yellowed data, his brain working at high speed, comparing them with the blueprints in his memory.

"The seventh section is located above an ancient riverbed, with extremely poor foundation bearing capacity. The exploration report requires that all load-bearing columns must use special concrete with a grade of C50 or higher, and a compressive strength of not less than 50 MPa."

Liang Qinian pointed to the line of text on the copy: "The acceptance form that Lu Haiming showed you says the building material model is C30 ordinary concrete."

Chen Yan put down the documents.

"Chen Jianguo is a senior engineer who participated in the design of the entire project."

Chen Yan looked at the blueprints on the coffee table. "He knows the geological conditions of the ancient riverbed better than anyone else. Replacing C50 with C30 means that the load-bearing columns will inevitably break within three months of the road opening."

"A senior engineer would never make such a suicidal mistake in load-bearing structures."

"What's with that signature?"

Liang Qinian asked.

"The signature is real, but the paper is fake."

Chen Yan tapped his fingers on the table. "The carbon paper from 1995, three copies. Someone got hold of the genuine document signed by Chen Jianguo, cut off the signature, pasted it onto the newly forged document, and then took it to make copies."

Liang Qinian took off his reading glasses: "If it's a copy, it's very difficult to identify the forgery. Unless the original is found."

Who was the technician in charge of managing the project seals and archives back then?

Chen Yan asked.

Liang Qinian opened another file: "Wang, the comprador. Lu Haiming's confidant. He was in charge of the seal. But he had a technician under him who actually did the work, named Li Fuquan. After the accident at the project site, a fire broke out in Lao Li's dormitory. The police determined that he died in the fire; his body was charred beyond recognition."

Chen Yan looked at the name and dialed Wu Gang's number.

"Investigate a man named Li Fuquan. He was a technician on the Jingtong project in 1995. He's not dead."

Two hours later.

Yanying Culture Conference Room.

Wu Gang pushed open the door, wearing a black windbreaker and exuding the scent of wind and snow.

"Found it."

Wu Gang placed a photo on the table.

The photo shows a gaunt old man behind a fish stall in a market, his eyes darting around.

"The brothers from the Yanjing Martial Arts Association were lending money at an underground casino in Daqiuzhuang, Tianjin. This old man owed 20,000 yuan and was recognized when he used his ID card as collateral. He changed his name to Li Daguo, and the fingerprints matched the records from back then."

Chen Yan picked up the photo.

"Go to Tianjin. Bring him back."

Wu Gang did not move.

"Our people found out that the private investigator hired by Southern Cinema Chain, along with two thugs left outside by Lu Haiming, got on the highway to Tianjin three hours ago. They've also got their eyes on Lao Li."

Chen Yan picked up his coat without pausing for a moment.

How many of them are there?

"Two of them, Lu Haiming's former henchmen, they're ruthless."

Chen Yan buttoned up his coat and had already reached the door.

"Wu Gang, I want this man. Bring him back alive, or if he's dead, bring back his voice."