Chapter 190 What Award?

Chapter 190: What Award

"Traditionally, the three major awards don’t create an atmosphere where one film dominates everything," Xu Wen said. "For *Fearless Life*, a little suspense could work in its favor."

Lu Xu nodded: "It’s fine as is."

Even though marketing accounts were already analyzing the feud between him and Liu Rennong, framing it as if Lu Xu was bound to miss out on this year’s Golden Flame Award.

"If Lu Xu wins another of the three major awards this year, he’ll be completely unstoppable."

"Personally, I think it’s not just Liu Rennong—plenty in the industry don’t want either for Lu Xu to win another major award. Just look at the momentum when he won the *Contention Award*. If he adds a Golden Flame Award to that, no one could rein him in."

Now, when fans online mention Lu Xu, they compare him to actors of Li Yan’s caliber. In terms of box office, Lu Xu can’t match Li Yan’s numbers, but when it comes to awards, even with just one *Contention Award*, Lu Xu has already surpassed Li Yan.

A single *Contention Award* has cemented Lu Xu’s standing. If he retains another, not just actors of similar standing, but even more established ones might have to duck to avoid his shadow.

Not just for the audience, but for industry insiders too, this year’s awards season is a real circus.

The big question is one—can Lu Xu actually win the Golden Flame Award?

"Let’s think deeper—for example, is there a chance Lu Xu could retain his *Contention Award*?"

"...That’s anyone’s guess. Personally, I think the *Critics' Award* is also up for grabs. The organizing committee might not necessarily give it to Lu Xu."

"If Lu Xu walks away with nothing, wouldn’t that make him the laughingstock of the entertainment industry? Honestly, Lu Xu and his fans should temper their expectations. Just milk the *Contention Award* for a few years and stop eyeing this year’s majors. Do they really think the three major awards are theirs for the taking?"

Seeing a familiar account under the #AwardsSeason tag, fans online couldn’t help but sigh—trolls outlast fans every time.

This account has been dragging Lu Xu since *The Son of Heaven* days. Who would’ve thought they’d still be at it after all these years?

Though they were writing Lu Xu off, fans online still couldn’t resist asking: "Is there any film this year that can compete with *Fearless Life*?"

"*Fearless Life*'s front-runner status doesn’t guarantee Lu Xu an award—those are two different things. Who knows, maybe Lu Xu won’t even get a nomination?"

The internet collectively facepalmed.

Back when Lu Xu won Best Actor in a Television Series for *The Year I Was 18*, this same person doubled down, claiming that while *The Year I Was 18* was a good series, it didn’t mean Lu Xu was a good actor.

However, *The Year I Was 18* was a drama centered on the life of its protagonist Huang Luning, while *Fearless Life* is a film about the struggles of its lead character Bai Qianshan. How can you separate the work from the character?

The netizen then went on a rant, insisting that Lu Xu simply couldn’t win, no matter what.

In a way, their commitment was low-key impressive—so much so that fans online couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for them. With that kind of determination, they could succeed at anything.

Discussions about this year’s awards season weren’t limited to just one platform. Every forum and video site lit up with takes.

But Lu Xu felt the focus shouldn’t be on him. What fans online should really be asking is—is Liu Rennong really the right choice for Jury President?

Yet, as a director skilled in marketing and frequenting trending topics, Liu Rennong was always in the spotlight when he mentored newcomers or won major international awards. But this time, despite the Golden Flame Award being a major industry event, Liu Rennong seemed to have vanished.

"Classic him," Lu Xu couldn’t help but remark. "Same old tactics."

The bad stuff falls on others, while he takes all the credit.

"You’ve officially become a senior member of the Liu Rennong Research Association," Xu Wen teased.

Lu Xu made a disgusted face: "Don’t. I’m backed into a corner."

Back when he was just starting as an actor, seeing Liu Rennong constantly promote newcomers made him think the man was genuinely kind. But then...

Anyway, he couldn't stand Liu Rennong anymore.

...

The discussions around the three major awards were heated debates, creating quite a buzz for a while. Shortly after, the Contention Award, the first of the three to commence, announced its nomination list.

Lu Xu was clearly listed among the nominees.

The netizen who had claimed Lu Xu wouldn’t even get a nomination was embarrassed first, yet he showed no shame at being proven wrong. Instead, he persisted: "Does a nomination guarantee a win? Lu Xu definitely won’t win this time."

This year, the Contention Award’s official website placed Lu Xu at the top of the Best Actor nomination list, clearly indicating he had secured the most votes in the nomination process.

Among this year’s nominees was another familiar face—Yue Hui, who earned a spot for his performance in the film *Sea of Hatred*.

Lu Xu silently grumbled, "Why is it always you?"

Yue Hui shot back, "I was about to ask the same—why is it you again?"

Both couldn’t help but laugh.

Lu Xu had become accustomed to seeing familiar faces. The acting circle is small—whether it’s during awards season or film releases, they’re bound to cross paths.

Yue Hui’s *Sea of Hatred* had a title reminiscent of 1980s cinema, and its content revolved around family ethics. In it, Yue Hui played a terrible womanizer whose actions ruined three generations and tore apart three families.

If Lu Xu hadn’t known Yue Hui fairly well, he might’ve suspected the role was type-casting.

"Why did you take on this character?" Lu Xu asked curiously.

Yue Hui’s range was broad—he’d mostly played heroic roles before but had recently ventured into villainous ones. With his classically handsome features, he’d portrayed plenty of handsome young men in his youth, gaining a following among older women. So, seeing him now as a reprehensible character was quite the shift.

Lu Xu couldn’t help but wonder how Yue Hui’s fans felt—was this disillusioning for them?

"Never played one before," Yue Hui admitted frankly. "Now that I have, I realize how challenging these roles are to perform."

In *Sea of Hatred*, his character was emotionally destructive but not inherently evil. He couldn’t remain faithful to his wife yet outwardly maintained family harmony. Had his deceit not been exposed, his younger relatives would never have known his true nature.

Lu Xu had seen the film and found Yue Hui’s performance nuanced. Seeing his name among the nominees came as no surprise.

The reason *Fearless Life* was a strong contender this awards season was partly due to competition like *Sea of Hatred*—an art-house film. The three major awards, especially the Contention Award and Golden Flame Award, lean toward more mainstream selections and rarely honor films with complex narratives like *Sea of Hatred*.

Aside from Yue Hui, nominees included Zhu Qiong, Sun Danqing, and Quan Zhilin. Compared to the year *Reversal City* was nominated, this year’s competition was relatively weaker.

Lu Xu’s chances of winning again this year weren’t high, but purely in terms of performance, he was on par with any nominee. Thus, he remained in the conversation for the win.

This time, Lu Xu walked the red carpet with Miao Zhi.

Once on the red carpet, official hosts stuck to flattering small talk, avoiding sensitive topics. But beforehand, both Lu Xu and Miao Zhi were pressed about their thoughts on Liu Rennong serving as Jury President for the Golden Flame Award.

Miao Zhi shielded Lu Xu and replied, "Great. Congratulations to him."

"If *Fearless Life* doesn't win at this year’s Golden Flame Awards, would that confirm rumors of a rift between you and Director Liu?"

Only then did Miao Zhi pause, his usually lazy gaze sharpening. "If you go through life with only friends and no enemies, you must be remarkably successful."

With that, he patted Lu Xu’s back, signaling him to move forward and ignore the persistent reporter.

The two received a warm welcome on the red carpet.

Regardless of whether Lu Xu won, *Fearless Life* was undeniably a clear frontrunner at this year’s Contention Awards. Miao Zhi, a veteran director, had long been overshadowed by Liu Rennong in fame. But after netizens researched thoroughly, they discovered his influence in the film industry rivaled Liu’s.

"Liu Rennong is said to have good connections, but now that he's in trouble, how many have you seen speaking up for him? Aside from those just looking for drama, how many serious colleagues have actually voiced support for him?"

"Don’t even mention voicing support—several directors have already stated in interviews that fair scheduling is the bare minimum. If anyone tries to manipulate screenings, other films might as well not be released at all, just give them the whole slot."

"Just wait, there’ll be more drama to watch at the upcoming Golden Flame Awards."

The directors aren’t the type to just focus on filming and ignore everything else—especially when scheduling affects their own interests. They’re not about to back down.

While Liu Rennong seems to have only offended Miao Zhi and Lu Xu, in reality, he’s angered far more people than the public realizes.

Once inside the venue, Miao Zhi was mingling with familiar directors and actors. Lu Xu noticed that the director’s network was much deeper than he’d thought—perhaps because he’d been making films for so long, he knew everyone from older-generation directors to those in the middle of their careers.

He brought Lu Xu around to introduce him to these people.

"I’ve long admired your reputation," one director joked. "Who here doesn’t know Lu Xu? You can’t just introduce his name—you’ve got to introduce him for collaborations with us!"

"Exactly!"

"I’ve met him before, but now we’re nominated together again. Talk about pressure!"

Lu Xu glanced at Yue Hui, who was winking at him mischievously. Lu Xu responded with a resigned expression.

Yue Hui grinned even wider.

Lu Xu: "..."

Well, as a young actor, being introduced around by a director in such settings was perfectly normal.

But compared to other up-and-coming actors, Lu Xu, despite his youth, was already an award season veteran.

"I can accept others being introduced, but why is Lu Xu also getting introductions?" Zhu Qiong, nominated for Best Actor this year, couldn’t help but grumble. "He’s already won Best Actor, and I haven’t even gotten one yet. When he walked over, I didn’t know whether to stand up or stay seated."

In terms of seniority, Zhu Qiong was the more experienced one—being introduced to younger actors was normal. But when it came to winning at the Contention Awards, Lu Xu had already surpassed him. It was hard for Zhu Qiong to play the seniority card or act magnanimous in front of Lu Xu.

Why put on airs? His achievements didn’t even measure up.

An awkward silence fell.

But griping aside, the nominees were still quite friendly toward Lu Xu.

After all, just getting nominated at the annual Contention Awards was victory enough.

The ceremony followed the same format as the previous year. Though it was only Lu Xu’s second time attending, he was completely comfortable. *Fearless Life* had the most nominations at this year’s Contention Awards, so the crew naturally occupied the best seats in the house. Not far in front of Lu Xu sat the members of this year’s judging panel.

Though the Contention Awards were traditional, they were known for their stability. The previous decision to award Best Actor to *Reversal City* had been a genuine shocker.

This year, despite Lu Xu’s nomination, no one was betting on him to win again—not even Lu Xu himself.

So he spent the evening in a calm state of mind, showing no signs of nerves. Every time someone from *Fearless Life* went onstage to accept an award, Lu Xu whooped and applauded like an overeager cheerleader. Even the director kept giving him odd looks.

"LOL, the director’s face: disgust.gif."

"The director side-eyeing the puppy has me dead. Be nicer to your lead actor, okay?"

"Puppy good"... "director bad."

Lu Xu stayed in this mood right up until the Best Actor award was announced. He hardly noticed the presenters and winners coming and going, with occasional performances in between—he’d lost track of who won which award.

Then—out of nowhere—he heard his own name called out.

At that moment, Lu Xu wondered if he'd heard correctly.

He noticed the camera and the gazes of several guests in the front row were fixed on him.

Miao Zhi beside him grabbed his arm: "Get up! What are you standing around for? Go claim your award!"

"What award?" Lu Xu's mind was in complete chaos, and he almost blurted out the question instinctively.

The director shot him a look of utter exasperation.

The live camera happened to capture this exact moment.

[Hahahaha Lu Xu, what are you doing?]

[I'm dead! This is too funny! This is exactly like me during finals week—asking my roommate what the exam is about the day before.]

[...Almost caused a disaster. When Lu Xu asked 'What award?' I wondered if this was a pre-written skit. The director's expression was even funnier—he looked like his soul left his body.]

[You won but don't even know what you won? I'm laughing myself silly.]

[Congrats, Puppy!! Quickest back-to-back Best Actor win in history!!!!!]