I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 369 - 369 368. The Only Chance in This Life_1

Chapter 369: 368. The Only Chance in This Life_1 Chapter 369: 368. The Only Chance in This Life_1 After the New Year, everyone gradually returned to their original positions, and Silent Media was no exception.

Bai Qiquan and his girlfriend went to meet her parents. At his age, having just graduated and started working, owning neither a car nor a house, meeting the parents seemed somewhat premature.

But Lu Ban had given him quite a lot.

Once the bonus, equating to dozens of months’ salaries, was issued, Bai Qiquan suddenly realized that the biggest obstacle stopping him from buying a house and settling down was the three-year requirement for social security!

Of course, even so, meeting the parents was still nerve-wracking.

However, that nervousness lasted only for a moment; once he had a couple of drinks with his father-in-law, Bai Qiquan felt there was nothing left to fear.

Back in Jiangcheng, on the first day back at work, Lu Ban followed tradition and handed out red envelopes for the New Year.

After distributing the red envelopes, Lu Ban clapped his hands and gathered the employees.

“Everyone, after resting for so long, we now have a new task,”

Lu Ban said.

Hearing this, the employees looked at each other in dismay.

“Magic Tide” had barely been off the screens for a month; how could there be new work already?

Was it for advertisements or short videos?

“It’s a new movie,”

Lu Ban didn’t beat around the bush but got straight to the point.

Hearing this, Bai Qiquan was taken aback, and his first thought was—were they going to get bonuses again?

“Boss, aren’t you moving too fast?”

“Exactly, do you never take a holiday?”

“Boss, be kinder to yourself. You’re still young; you should enjoy life more!”

“Boss, I think we’re already excellent; we don’t need to work so hard!”

The employees, in turn, tried to persuade Lu Ban not to rush things.

Bai Qiquan pondered for a moment and felt it made sense.

If today Lu Ban could finish a movie in a month and a half, then tomorrow he might manage one in four weeks. Continuing at this pace, four or five movies a year would be entirely feasible.

For them, under normal circumstances, two movies a year was already saturation; three was overtime; four or five was downright exploitation!

Moreover, under normal circumstances, the movies they worked on post-production didn’t always demand high standards; some could be rushed through simply, with an hour of work followed by nine hours of chat being quite common.

But Lu Ban’s movies, not to mention world-class, were always in the spotlight and couldn’t afford the slightest negligence, meaning they had to invest their whole selves into the work.

Furthermore, considering the themes of Lu Ban’s movies, if they kept going at this rate, they might need to retire within a couple of years!

Anyone who has worked knows, if your colleague is competitive, that’s their problem, and if your leader is the one pushing you, it’s their fault. But if your boss works harder than you, that’s really a matter of life and death.

“Don’t worry, our next film is a warm, healing art film, so the workload won’t be intense,”

Lu Ban noticed their concerns.

“Also, our goal isn’t the box office, but to win awards.”

“Awards? What kind of awards?”

Bai Qiquan asked, puzzled.

“Whatever awards we can win,”

Lu Ban pulled out a sheet of paper and glanced at it.

“Let’s set a small goal first, the Palme d’Or in May this year…”

“???”

Several question marks appeared over the heads of those present.

“Boss, the Palme d’Or, as in that Palme d’Or?”

Someone asked.

“Are you kidding me here?”

Lu Ban retorted, then continued.

“The Palme d’Or in May, the Golden Bear in June, the Golden Lion in August, our current priority is these three awards.”

“…”

The employees present were left speechless.

If Lu Ban had been a newcomer, they probably would have just laughed, thinking he was either joking or excessively arrogant.

But Lu Ban was already a successful director.

His films had reached the top five in box office history, with domestic achievements ranked first and internationally renowned.

When those words came from his mouth, they seemed to carry a certain weight.

“…Boss, are you serious?”

An employee asked tentatively.

“Why would I lie to you?”

Lu Ban wondered.

“But, uh, boss, I feel it’s necessary to remind you that so far, no single film has managed to win all three awards at once, at most only two.”

In the early years, the juries of the three major film festivals communicated with each other, and sometimes an excellent film would receive nominations from all three festivals, winning awards at two—a rare but existing occurrence.

Later, the big three festivals began to grow distinct, and their respective juries, in order to highlight the characteristics of their festivals, would sometimes even deliberately avoid films that had won awards at other festivals.

The most frequently mentioned Grand Slam now refers to an actor or director’s Grand Slam, like there is a domestic female actor who won major awards at the three major festivals with three different films, achieving the Grand Slam.

So the implausibility of Lu Ban’s statement would be apparent to anyone with a modest understanding of film festival juries.

Normally, this would be the time to question Lu Ban’s credibility, thinking he was asking for too much, assuming he had become arrogant.

And it’s true that many employees did initially react that way.

But then.

But this was Lu Ban.

The one who had said he would top the global box office for a month and then truly did so.

He had created miracles.

This time, maybe he could again?

The employees suddenly felt their spirits lift.

If they really could achieve this goal.

No, forget that goal, even if they won just one award, they themselves would go down in film history.

Those who devote themselves to the film industry all harbor at least a small wish to create a historically significant film, one that would be written about in textbooks, but due to the pressures of life and the hardships of the industry, they can only waste away inside their homes.

Now, they had to consider if this was their once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Frankly, the temptation was rather significant.

“Wait a minute, boss, the film festival is in May, so we need to submit our film by the end of March at the latest. Now it’s already past mid-February, isn’t the timing a little tight?”

Even arthouse films take a long time to shoot, not to mention that because they are, the performance demands on actors are even higher; every look can tell a story, as the saying goes.

Casting, finalizing the script, shooting, post-production, a little over a month is just not enough.

It couldn’t possibly be that Lu Ban had shot a new film somewhere during this holiday-filled month, could it?

The employees exchanged glances, all turning to look at Lu Ban.

Could it be?

“I’ll show you some clips first, get a feel for the tone.”

Lu Ban did not hold back.

He led everyone to the screening room and then played a short clip of The Island’s landscape and characters that he’d casually selected before.

In the darkness, Bai Qiquan saw the screen suddenly light up.

The spring breeze seemed about to overflow from the screen and wash over them.

He saw cherry blossoms falling.