Chapter 109: Prelude

This was the University Student Film Festival, organized by several leading film academies. At first, many students were scheduled to attend regularly. Over time, the festival gained fame, and without any special arrangements, numerous university students and fans flocked to the event. It wasn’t just film academies; students from other universities came to watch the spectacle as well. As a result, every edition of the festival was packed with audiences, even surpassing some major award ceremonies in attendance.

To accommodate and care for the growing crowd of fans and spectators, the red carpet at the University Student Film Festival kept extending. Rarely would any award ceremony lengthen their red carpet for such reasons—most either did it for show or to add grandeur—but the festival’s crowd was enviable to many award shows.

“Wow, this red carpet at the Imperial Film Academy is ridiculous! It almost reaches the main gate of the university,” exclaimed Xiao He in surprise, clutching his high-resolution camera tightly while pulling along a colleague carrying a video camera. He sincerely expressed his admiration to Wu Bin, the top reporter at their newspaper.

Xiao He was a newcomer who had graduated just a year ago and had been with Film Weekly for just over six months. Thanks to his good performance and some connections, he was often sent on errands with Wu Bin, the paper’s most sought-after journalist. By humbly learning and keenly observing, Xiao He had gained considerable experience.

“Indeed, the University Student Film Festival has the longest red carpet. Even the Golden Dragon Phoenix Awards—China’s highest film and television honors—can’t compare!” Wu Bin nodded in admiration.

Wu Bin held great respect for this rookie. Xiao He not only had the right attitude but also a clear self-awareness. Though somewhat clever, he retained a pure, fresh charm typical of a recent graduate, which made him likable. Thus, Wu Bin spared no effort in teaching him all he could. How much Xiao He absorbed depended on his own ability.

Film Weekly was no tabloid chasing scandals or digging into celebrities' private lives. It was a reputable entertainment magazine, known for its integrity and fairness, and quite popular within the industry.

However, judging by its name, it focused solely on entertainment news, a relatively narrow scope. During dull periods without eye-catching stories, the magazine could lose some appeal. Fortunately, it was published weekly, allowing longer coverage cycles and more material. Its solid reputation meant many stars didn’t mind being interviewed by them.

Moreover, Film Weekly covered both television and cinema, securing first-hand information about ongoing productions, compiling detailed reports, analysis, and trend forecasts. This attracted a loyal readership.

“The longest? Really?” Xiao He found it hard to believe. He had never been to the Golden Dragon Phoenix Awards, so he wasn’t entirely sure, but naturally assumed that as China’s highest film honor, those awards would have the longest red carpet, not the student festival.

“You think I’d lie to you?” Wu Bin smacked his forehead with the microphone. “The length of the red carpet doesn’t depend on the prestige of the award. The Imperial Sports Arena simply isn’t big enough to hold a carpet that long.”

“Heh…” Xiao He scratched his head and gave an honest smile. “I’m not doubting you, I’m just amazed. Wu, it looks like this student film festival is really lively.”

“Of course it is! If it weren’t, why would we be here?” Wu Bin chuckled. “Hurry up and take more shots. The newspaper is publishing a special issue on the festival, so we need plenty of material.”

“Oh, okay!” Xiao He snapped back to attention and began clicking away with his camera.

“Just wait until the red carpet starts. You’ll see why it’s so star-studded and buzzing…” Wu Bin continued with admiration. “People joke that since the carpet gets longer every year, maybe in a few years it’ll stretch all the way outside the Imperial Film Academy’s gates!”

It wasn’t just Film Weekly. Many veteran journalists made it a point to snap a couple of shots of the red carpet’s length as soon as they arrived, marveling at its ever-increasing stretch, mentally drafting their articles.

“Looks like the red carpet itself is a spectacle that draws attention!” Chu Luoxi, sitting in the car, casually observed the reporters snapping photos and felt a deep sense of awe.

“Usually, the ones who suffer the most are the actresses,” Xiao Jingxuan glanced over, raising an eyebrow. His dark eyes sparkled like stars, evoking imagination.

“Ha, that’s true,” Chu Luoxi laughed. After all, female stars had to look stunningly beautiful and alluring.

The sky over Imperial Capital was already cold in early January, and the red carpet was outdoors. The actresses, clad in gowns exposing shoulders and legs, were bound to feel the chill, especially as the carpet lengthened—what a hardship.

Despite smiling, Chu Luoxi eyed the front seats oddly. In the driver’s seat and the front passenger seat sat Lan Daji and Leng Daji, and the atmosphere was peculiarly tense.

Originally, she had looked forward to seeing Lan Lun and Leng Lu meet, but after just a moment, she regretted it. One instantly became like the North and South Poles, the other blatantly ignored the other’s presence. This indescribable awkwardness was suffocating.

Even when talking and joking with Xiao Jingxuan, she sensed an unsettling disharmony, as if danger lurked nearby.

Naturally, since Chu Luoxi and Xiao Jingxuan were to walk the red carpet together, they had to sit in the back. The space in the front of the car felt frozen solid.

“Don’t worry, it’s always been like this,” Xiao Jingxuan said vaguely, but with meaning, as if he understood Chu Luoxi’s unease.

“Uh, I’m not worried, just a bit disappointed,” Chu Luoxi whispered to Xiao Jingxuan. Although only they two spoke inside the car, the low tone still made their conversation quite audible. She wondered if the two up front could hear them.

“Disappointed about what?” Xiao Jingxuan asked, eyes bright with genuine curiosity.

“I thought when they met, there’d be a volcanic eruption—maybe even a fight,” Chu Luoxi candidly revealed her thoughts. She had truly expected a fiery clash, but instead, the brothers gave each other the cold shoulder, ignoring one another. That felt even more awkward than a shouting match or a brawl.

“Fight? Ha!” Xiao Jingxuan chuckled, eyes twinkling. “How could that be? Even if they avoid each other now, they’ve met countless times growing up. If they fought every time, how would they still be alive today?”

This was their first encounter in years. If not for his and Chu Luoxi’s joint red carpet appearance, the two probably wouldn’t have crossed paths at all.

“Met countless times?” Chu Luoxi blinked, surprised.

“No way. They were impulsive kids back then. Naturally, meeting meant volcanic eruptions—if not a fight, it wasn’t really over. As they grew up, it mellowed into what you see now,” Xiao Jingxuan said with a teasing glint in his eyes. The brothers’ story could probably fill a book.

“Wow, it’s really that awkward?” Chu Luoxi was baffled. What exactly was going on between those two?

“Absolutely,” Xiao Jingxuan agreed wholeheartedly.