The outside of the venue and the inside felt like two different worlds.

Outside was the glittering, roaring red carpet, while inside the hall the lights were dim and the atmosphere somewhat hushed.

Except for the central stage, the surrounding spectator seats were relatively dark, the giant screen displaying the words “The XXth Cannes Film Festival” while the people moving about wore splendid attire and exceptional bearing; even when seated they spoke in low voices. Apart from the rustling sounds made by guests moving about, there was almost no other noise.

The moment Xiao He and the others entered, they drew subtle gazes from the people around them, and they followed staff to their seats.

Their seats were not outstanding but not terrible either, situated roughly in the middle section, which from a certain perspective made them effectively at the heart of the venue.

They had not been seated long when more people gradually filled the seats before, behind, and beside them.

On this side, they encountered another troupe from the China production circle attending the event.

“Director Ning, long time no see.”

An elderly man with thick black hair smiled and shook hands with Ning Jiaqi, and Ning Jiaqi smiled and shook back. “Director Sun, didn’t expect to run into you here.”

Xiao He glanced at the man and immediately matched him in his memory.

Sun Gong, a well-known arthouse director, like Ning Jiaqi, belonged to that group of directors with high recognition and capability in the industry. Rumor had it he had been pushing for international awards in recent years and had achieved some successes along the way.

Xiao He had heard from Liu Rulan that this man had been circulating and frequently interacting with the capital backers on the organizer’s side; whether he could ultimately win the favor of the jury and secure what he wanted remained to be seen.

What Xiao He had heard, Ning Jiaqi had naturally also heard, but there was no sign of it on his face; he merely exchanged a few cool, courteous words with Sun Gong, then both returned to their seats.

“Director Ning and that person don’t get along, they’ve been mortal enemies for years.”

Someone murmured in a low voice into Xiao He’s ear.

Xiao He was momentarily startled and turned to look at the person beside him.

Ding Wanyu, the female lead of No Bait, was wearing a gorgeous purple gown and had her gloved hand covering her mouth; she too was looking at Xiao He.

Xiao He asked, puzzled, “How do you know that?”

From an outside view, Ning Jiaqi and Sun Gong’s relationship didn’t seem that bad.

But perhaps Xiao He’s question had touched on an unpleasant memory, for a few more worries appeared on Ding Wanyu’s face before she finally shook her head, “The opening ceremony is about to start.”

Xiao He didn’t press the matter when Ding Wanyu forcibly changed the subject; he turned his gaze to the stage.

…

On the first day of the Cannes Film Festival, the main attraction was actually the Cannes red carpet.

The opening ceremony of the gala itself was less interesting; it typically introduced the organizers and the jury, briefly explained the awards, screened the opening film, and that was basically it—nothing novel, just like the countless galas Xiao He had attended in the past.

When the event concluded, local time was only around ten in the evening.

There would still be an opening banquet and smaller parties to follow, participation optional; guests could choose freely.

The No Bait crew naturally decided to attend.

After all, their purpose in coming to Cannes was not only to attend the awards circuit but more importantly to handle overseas rights sales for No Bait.

Social occasions like this allowed them to meet more big bosses and to approach distribution intentions in advance.

As the lead actor, Xiao He naturally accompanied Director Ning.

Ding Wanyu, however, took a phone call halfway through and then politely said she needed to leave first, so she would not attend the banquet with them.

Director Ning and Xiao He did not mind; after a brief greeting they led some of the crew and moved to another hall.

This hall was lavish, glittering with golden splendor; dazzling crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, luxurious carpet stretched across the entire banquet area, long tables displayed champagne and delicate cold dishes, and tasteful candle-like arrangements were placed throughout. At the far end of the front hall there was even a small rockery with a pool where a fountain flowed, adding an elegant touch to the lively banquet.

By now this place had become a social scene for the upper echelon; guests in splendid attire shimmered as they moved, low conversations and the clinking of glasses interwove, uniformed servers carried trays with hands folded properly behind their backs, moving briskly through the crowd. In the distance, when a glass was missing from the champagne tower one second, another server immediately replenished it the next.

Compared to the large banquets Xiao He had attended domestically, this felt more like the world of capitalists—a paradise of fame and money.

Once inside, Director Ning took the initiative to chat with several distributors.

Xiao He simply stood to the side as an ordinary lucky charm.

Yet even standing there, the hardened aura around him could not be ignored, and almost everyone who spoke with Director Ning couldn’t help but ask a few questions.

So Xiao He smoothly became part of the group’s topics of conversation.

The banquet lasted a long time.

Director Ning was already elderly, and the intensity of the socializing showed on his face.

After discussing with Xiao He, they prepared to leave.

Just before they reached the exit, they were intercepted by a young assistant.

“Sorry to bother you, our gentleman would like to speak with you alone.”

Xiao He followed the direction the assistant indicated and saw a somewhat thin foreign middle-aged man.

Director Ning narrowed his eyes, “It’s someone from Shield Screen Pictures.”

As one of Hollywood’s giants, Shield Screen Pictures was both a production company and a distributor, even handling many theater circuits in Europe and America—a vertically integrated model, producing and selling their own films.

Their exclusivity was real; Ning Jiaqi had never expected to talk with Shield Screen Pictures about No Bait’s overseas distribution.

Unexpectedly, however, the other party suddenly showed interest.

Xiao He frowned slightly.

His impression of Shield Screen Pictures was not particularly good.

If his memory served, Shield Screen Pictures had recently co-produced Twelve Sins with Han Jae-woo. Although the conflict at the time was only with Han Jae-woo, Shield Screen Pictures was not exactly a virtuous company; online there were still residual news pieces about them inserting improper content or expressing improper views in their works.

Yet undeniably, their films still occupied a large share of the domestic market.

Xiao He could not understand why Shield Screen Pictures would suddenly take interest in No Bait.

He did not want a company like that to become No Bait’s distributor.

But the assistant cut through Xiao He’s continuing train of thought: “Please stay.”

Xiao He: ?

Ning Jiaqi: ?

Xiao He looked at Director Ning and then pointed at himself, “Just me?”

“Yes.”

Director Ning understood and winked at Xiao He.

So it wasn’t their interest in No Bait; they were interested in Xiao He.

That was great, he exhaled in relief.

…Though it didn’t seem to be that great after all.

Xiao He: “…Alright then, I understand.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep