Chapter 148: “All you need to do is charge ahead bravely—we’ll always be right behind you.”

Securing a nomination at the Cannes International Film Festival was the first step in Zhou Ran’s grand strategy. His plan was to establish his name on the international stage, ensuring that, at the very least, he would leave an impression and make his existence known to the masses. This was essential for the subsequent implementation of the anti-dumping initiative he and Huayu Entertainment had devised.

Of course, winning the Best Newcomer award would be the ideal outcome, as it would significantly accelerate his career in the international film industry. While this might appear to be a deliberate attempt to curry favor with foreign cinematic institutions, it was a necessary compromise. As it stood, the power to define the film industry remained firmly in foreign hands. The fact that the Academy Awards in the United States were considered the highest honor in cinema made it clear that the Americans held the majority of the leverage.

To perfectly execute the anti-dumping plan, he had to earn their recognition. Only when the world at large recognized that the highest award in film history belonged to China would the plan be considered truly complete. Only then could China seize the narrative, achieve genuine cultural export, and avoid hollow rhetoric.

Currently, Zhou Ran’s fame was largely confined to China and a few neighboring Asian countries. He lacked influence beyond the borders of Asia, and this endeavor was certainly no simple task. In his past life, many who claimed to be "world-renowned" were, in truth, only famous within Asia. That said, for an artist, achieving fame across Asia was already a monumental accomplishment.

But one must have aspirations. Zhou Ran set a modest, whimsical goal: to break out of Asia, conquer the world, and reach for the stars—hoping that one day his music might be broadcast via satellite into the cosmos for a friendly exchange with extraterrestrials. That would be enough to satisfy him.

As Zhou Ran indulged in these idle daydreams during the ceremony, the host finally announced the presentation of the Best Newcomer award.

Upon hearing the announcement, Zhou Ran snapped to attention. This award was his primary objective for attending the Cannes Film Festival. The other two nominations he held were, frankly, of little consequence to him, and the competition for them was fierce. This year’s festival was crowded with burgeoning talents and exceptional foreign-language films.

The chances of *The Drummer* winning Best Foreign Language Film were slim. Even Director Huang had tacitly abandoned hope for that category upon receiving the nomination, viewing it merely as a consolation. In fact, Director Huang had redirected all public relations efforts and resources toward Zhou Ran’s Best Newcomer bid. Among the three nominations for *The Drummer*, this was the category with the highest probability of success—though even then, it likely hovered at no more than 30 percent. Still, it was far more promising than the others.

Long before the official nominations were announced, public relations firms had already begun lobbying the judges. Some resorted to direct bribery, while others utilized complex webs of mutual interest to secure nominations for their films. Such behavior was a common, open secret at international festivals; the vast majority of winning films had undergone extensive PR campaigns.

The money spent on these processes could rival the paychecks of international superstars—fees often calculated in the tens of millions of dollars. This underscored the critical importance of such work. After all, if the competition was engaged in lobbying and you were not, you would inevitably fall behind during the voting process. Of course, the work itself had to be strong enough to stand on its own; no amount of backroom maneuvering could save a truly abysmal film. They didn't treat the audience like fools by handing awards to garbage. They simply engaged in "appropriate" backroom operations within reasonable bounds—though what exactly defined those bounds remained a mystery to everyone.

Sitting in the audience, watching the host announce the nominees for Best Newcomer, Zhou Ran found himself uncharacteristically nervous. His emotions fluctuated with every tone of the host’s voice. He cared deeply about this award, especially given the immense effort his team had poured into it. Huayu Entertainment had spent nearly ten million yuan on publicity and public relations alone. Carrying the hopes of so many, Zhou Ran felt the weight of the moment.

At that very instant, the live stream of the Cannes Film Festival was flooded with users from China. They had all converged at the same time, and in a heartbeat, the chat was swamped with blue text: "Go Zhou Ran!"

These were messages from his fans. Since blue was his representative color, they had turned the festival’s live stream into a sea of blue. While they might not be able to influence the outcome on the ground, they could certainly make their presence felt in the digital space.

Even though accessing the stream required circumventing internet restrictions, countless fans were willing to put in the time and effort. Some even paid for tutorials just to learn how to access the stream, all to cheer for their idol. They didn't know if their support would truly help, but they were determined not to lose face.

"Can Zhou Ran win Best Newcomer?"
"Looking forward to hearing: 'Congratulations to Zhou Ran for winning Best Newcomer!'"
"We are here to support you, Little Ran! Don't be afraid, we are right behind you!"
"Just charge forward bravely; we will always be here to cheer you on!"
"Fly bravely, Zhou Ran, your fans will always follow!"