Chapter 220 Winning the Award

Chapter 220: Winning an Award

As an actor, Lu Xu didn’t travel abroad often—usually only for brand events or movie promotions.

In earlier years, overseas film awards held much greater influence than they do now. The most prominent figures in the domestic film industry made grand appearances en masse, and international accolades became a crucial factor in gauging star power.

Now, things are somewhat different.

The Sunset Film Festival was one of the few overseas awards Lu Xu had been nominated for. Director Mu Lang’s reasoning was simple: since he had nothing better to do, why not take a trip abroad for fun?

So Lu Xu happily boarded the plane, spending the flight in a sleepy daze.

One advantage of being abroad was that hardly anyone recognized him, sparing him from constant media glare.

However, as an ambassador for Brand G, Lu Xu still had to shoot a set of promotional photos in advance.

Brand G had always treated Lu Xu well, offering him prestigious titles and stable collaboration over the years. Even though Lu Xu attended fewer events now, the two were seen as a package deal.

Brand G signed Lu Xu when he was first nominated for the Starlight Awards, a move later hailed as one of the fashion industry’s wisest decisions in the past decade. As Lu Xu rose to A-list status, Brand G’s reputation in the domestic market rode the wave of his fame.

This year’s Sunset Film Festival also featured other Brand G ambassadors, but Lu Xu was the only one competing for Best Actor. The brand not only posted his red carpet ensemble on Weibo but also shared it on international media platforms.

It was only then that overseas netizens, who had just realized "Number A77" and Ma Yanwen were the same person, finally got it—the penny dropped.

Lu Xu’s red carpet appearance naturally leaned more toward "Number A77."

“They’re the same person? This might be the most shocking revelation of the year for me.”

“I’ve watched *Dough Figurine* and *Number A77*, but it wasn’t until now that I spotted the shared flicker in their eyes. Chilling transformation… But honestly, Number A77 isn’t the scary one—even with a gun and the ability to kill effortlessly. Ma is the true horror.”

The Sunset Film Festival’s red carpet was crowded with filmmakers from around the world. Lu Xu had assumed he was just another blip on the radar, but in reality, both *Deception* and *Number A77* were box-office hits, earning him far more attention than he expected.

He even heard people calling his name on the red carpet.

Director Mu Lang had encouraged him to treat this as a vacation. As for the awards, Lu Xu wasn’t particularly confident, even though award-pundit columns favored *Dough Figurine*. This year’s Best Actor nominees at the Sunset Film Festival came from five different countries, each with solid reputations.

Lu Xu had never placed much importance on winning awards, and Mu Lang was similarly zen-like. Aside from the trip, the director’s main goal was to secure overseas distribution for *Dough Figurine*.

After being nominated at the Sunset Film Festival, an international release was practically a done deal, though scaling up distribution would still be challenging.

Regardless, *Dough Figurine* stood to gain additional profits and broader influence. While it wasn’t a high-grossing blockbuster like *Number A77*, Mu Lang was a no-nonsense realist—every penny counts.

Unbeknownst to Lu Xu, his red carpet appearance had already climbed the trending charts on overseas social media.

Among the five Best Actor nominees, he was the baby of the group. Beyond that, his portrayal of Ma Yanwen in *Dough Figurine* was so drastically different from his real personality that the whiplash contrast was striking.

Fans had long grown accustomed to Lu Xu making headlines for his looks. When news of his overseas trending status reached domestic audiences, their reaction was a gleeful satisfaction—Welcome to the party.

“Proof that the entire world is over mediocre men.”

“This week I learned how to say ‘raise your standards’ in multiple languages.”

“LOL, so everyone felt the same way? Before Lu Xu came along, I genuinely wondered—where have all the handsome men gone? Why is the world full of unattractive faces?”

“Same energy ∞∞∞.”

The Sunset Film Festival wasn’t broadcast live domestically, but due to *Dough Figurine*’s nomination, overseas media and netizens live-tweeted the results. Some even took the time to explain the films in the final race.

“The film from Country I is also a strong contender—it tells the story of an old man who chooses euthanasia but later regrets it. The lead actor is someone everyone should recognize—the grizzled prospector from *Gold Rush*. He’s Lu Xu’s strongest rival.”

"If Lu Xu wins Best Actor this time, he will personally break the record of zero Chinese actors at the Sunset Film Festival."

"Praying for the puppy."

"Personally, I think Lu Xu's performance is superior when examined closely—regardless of age or seniority, purely my own opinion."

Lu Xu sat in the VIP section, surrounded by unfamiliar faces. The camera occasionally focused on him, but everywhere his gaze fell was an icy detachment, leaving him unsettled.

He was more accustomed to interacting with fellow guests or the audience.

The *Dough Figurine* crew had come with five or six people this time. Aside from director Mu Lang, most had little overseas experience, so they chatted among themselves.

"When they announce the awards later, we’ll still catch our own names."

Both Lu Xu and Mu Lang’s names were easy to distinguish.

The Sunset Film Festival’s awards were relatively straightforward, and soon it was time for the performance awards. The nominees had never crossed paths before, and even after the nominations were announced, Lu Xu hadn’t paid much attention to the other contenders.

Of course, he had interacted with the organizing committee and met representatives from the distribution company handling the festival’s films, as well as a few of the festival’s judges.

The crew had naturally been campaigning for Lu Xu’s win, but the Sunset Film Festival was notoriously resistant to influence. While campaigning mattered, the quality of the work itself was paramount.

When X-Hollywood dominated globally, its influence was second only to the Oscars, but due to the constant scandals of the Foreign Press Association, the Golden Globes gradually lost their status as a trendsetter and are now nearly defunct.

Lu Xu chose to leave it to chance.

...

When the camera focused on his face and the presenter mangled the pronunciation of "Lu Su," it took Lu Xu several seconds to realize they were calling his name.

This was it—the Best Actor award, which meant—

"I won?" Lu Xu said in surprise.

Director Mu Lang gave him a light pat. "Yes, go up and accept it."

Lu Xu truly wasn’t prepared mentally. Before attending this year’s Sunset Film Festival, he had searched online for information about the festival—some said it was notoriously tough on homegrown films, while others mentioned actors who had waited years without winning.

But he had actually won.

Lu Xu’s acceptance speech was brief—thanking the director and the rest of the crew and sharing some of his thoughts on filmmaking.

Foreign media described him as—"A by-the-book acceptance speech, but a face that leaves a lasting impression."

Though not the youngest Best Actor winner, after the ceremony, the approval he received was far beyond expectations.

"His acting won over the judges—and me."

"The twist in *Dough Figurine* shocked me. I couldn't reconcile the protagonists of *Number A77* and *Dough Figurine*. I once praised, 'They’re both excellent actors,' but soon realized—there was only him—no them."

"This is the first time I’ve heard of Lu, but I realized I’ve already seen three of his films."

Capitalizing on the buzz from the Sunset Film Festival, *Dough Figurine* quickly expanded into international markets. The title *Dough Figurine* had cultural resonance in China, but in English, the translation resembled "statue." The crew ultimately settled on *Twisted*—a simple word, but one that tangentially related to the film’s plot.

...

As an international student, watching movies was one of Jiang Lei’s few hobbies. Though ticket prices abroad were expensive—one ticket here cost two back home—compared to other expenses, movies were still a relatively affordable expense.

Lately, he had started blind-watching, picking films like a blind box and then writing reviews—a requirement for the film club he had joined.

At first, Jiang Lei found it troublesome, but gradually he got used to it. Over time, he even began to enjoy it.

This time, he picked a movie called *Twisted*. It wasn’t until after buying the ticket that a friend reminded him, "Lei, this is a Chinese film!"

Jiang Lei’s interest was immediately piqued.

Chinese films rarely got overseas releases. The last one Jiang Lei had seen was *Number A77*. He searched on his phone but couldn’t match *Twisted* to its Chinese title. Once inside the theater, he didn’t bother searching further—he just waited for the movie to start.

Truth be told, Jiang Lei wasn’t particularly fond of Chinese films released overseas. *Number A77* was an exception—after all, mindless action flicks were always enjoyable. But other movies… for some reason, especially those nominated for awards, always gave him a musty, dated vibe.

Sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder, who the hell actually liked these? Who was their target audience?

The title *Twisted* also made Jiang Lei feel like he’d drawn the wrong blind box this time. Just the title sounded like some heavy-handed social commentary—like a film determined to dissect society’s dark underbelly—not that he was prejudiced, but often, the only lasting impression such movies left him with was being edgy for edginess’ sake.

Compared to films that didn’t boldly tackle societal darkness, these movies didn’t necessarily have any significant advantage in plot, execution, or even the actors’ performances.

But that’s the gamble—you win some, you lose some.

The initial atmosphere of the film made Jiang Lei think it was just another typical dull movie—a limp protagonist paired with try-hard artsy nonsense, the kind that made you want to doze off halfway through.

Then, as he watched, he suddenly realized the lead actor was Lu Xu.

Jiang Lei had heard how popular Lu Xu was back home. He’d seen *Deception* and *Number A77*, both of which were totally his jam.

The character Ma Yanwen was so ordinary that Jiang Lei didn’t recognize Lu Xu at first. But the moment he confirmed it was Lu Xu playing the role, he knew *Twisted* was far from the boring film he’d expected.

And then—the holy shit moment came.

The twist shocked Jiang Lei more than a hot girl turning into a dinosaur. He’d grown up watching plenty of tokusatsu films—those girls could morph into whatever they wanted; that was their prerogative.

But the Ma Yanwen he saw now was straight-up vile—the very embodiment of despicableness.

For the rest of the movie, Jiang Lei was just mentally screaming “what the fuck.” Though the plot only twisted once, without layer upon layer of reversals, it was enough to leave him stunned, his mind racing to dissect it, completely rewriting his mental image of Ma Yanwen with this new, jarring realization.

Lu Xu’s performance… could only be described as next-level.

*Twisted* wasn’t about criminals or junkies—it didn’t feature characters who crossed moral boundaries. No drugs, no shootings, no gangs. Yet, in Jiang Lei’s eyes, Ma Yanwen’s actions crossed every line he had.

Perhaps it was a matter of distance—gangs, shootings, and drugs might as well have been on another planet. Though they existed in the city where he studied, they never entered his daily life.

But Ma Yanwen was different.

Jiang Lei couldn’t resist recommending the film to his friends and began keeping tabs on how it was doing abroad.