Chapter 242: 242 Main Text Ends

Chapter 242 242 Main Story Conclusion

Tan Qi was well aware that for Lu Xu, this year's Contention Award would be exceptionally tough competition. But—as long as Lu Xu remained in the film industry, as long as he still had the chance to be nominated, each following year would only grow more challenging.

Lu Xu would never treat any win as his last, and as his fan, neither would Tan Qi.

Halfway through the awards ceremony, the venue grew increasingly noisy.

Though the inner circle remained calm, with celebrities maintaining their polite smiles, Tan Qi couldn’t shake the feeling that beneath this tranquility, tension simmered beneath the surface.

The audience paid little attention to the technical awards, at most grumbling when the Best Cinematography or Best Animated Feature winners were announced—because the results often didn’t align with their expectations.

Of course, the criteria for judgment were fundamentally different.

After that, the chat went quiet, with only the occasional comment popping up, mostly asking, "Has Best Actor / Best Actress been announced yet?"

Upon receiving the answer, "Not yet," the commenters would quietly disappear again.

Tan Qi kept waiting, busying herself with other things in the meantime. Occasionally, the camera would sweep past Lu Xu—sometimes chatting with director Zheng Xiao, other times wearing a composed smile.

The live broadcast director seemed particularly fond of giving Lu Xu screen time, as if hinting at the award’s outcome. But longtime fans like Tan Qi, who had watched several Contention Awards ceremonies, knew that Lu Xu getting screen time was the norm—it didn’t necessarily mean he would win.

Though—Lu Xu had indeed won many awards before.

"Lu Xu is Lu Xu!!"

"Lmao, whether the camera’s on him or not, he’s gonna win anyway. The director’s just cutting to him for ratings—who doesn’t know Lu Xu is the ratings magnet?"

……

As the ceremony dragged on minute by minute, viewers occasionally caught glimpses of celebrities sneaking yawns discreetly or getting misty-eyed in unfocused shots.

The awards show’s proceedings undeniably dragged on forever, and even the stars’ smiles seemed more forced than usual.

*Reign Supreme* won Best Costume Design and Best Original Score but lost out on Best Original Screenplay, which went to a more uniquely structured niche film.

That film wasn’t nominated for Best Picture or Best Director, so in those categories, the five nominated films remained still neck-and-neck.

Chang Aiwei was also chill.

No matter how *Reign Supreme* performed at the Contention Awards, the film had already cleaned up at the box office—the combined box office of the other four Best Picture nominees didn’t even come close to *Reign Supreme*’s earnings alone.

With profits secured and a Contention Award nomination, in terms of bang for the buck, *Reign Supreme* was indisputably this year’s clear winner.

Li Yan’s latest film, *Season of Good Rain*, was more art-house in style, with limited box office appeal. Of course, thanks to Li Yan’s star power, it still made money—just not even close to as much as *Reign Supreme*.

Li Yan hadn’t explicitly stated it, but from his words, Lu Xu gathered that he had taken on *Season of Good Rain* partly to take another shot at awards.

"I used to think box office success was enough," Li Yan had said. "But maybe it’s age—now I feel like winning an award wouldn’t hurt either. Guess people are just insatiable."

In a way, Li Yan envied Lu Xu’s position.

At least as an actor, Lu Xu had no weak spots.

But Li Yan’s envy didn’t translate into a desire to change his own approach or obsess over awards—if a great project came along, he’d compete for it, but there was no need to go overboard.

After so many years in the industry, Li Yan had figured some things out—the more he chased after certain things, the more they eluded him.

And at his level, getting what he wanted inevitably came with a price.

If he were a nobody with little clout, others would demand little from him. But now, as the highest-grossing lead actor in the entire film industry, if he wants a specific award and is willing to trade chips for it, what he’d have to give up would inevitably be far greater than he imagined.

Plus, he’s no natural talent like Lu Xu.

In Li Yan’s view, the reason Lu Xu has won so many awards isn’t because he “traded” anything, but because his acting is so outstanding that it blows everyone in the industry away. If you’re a director, you want to work with an actor like Lu Xu; if you’re an actor, you want to surpass him.

Even if there are obstacles, those filmmakers who favor genius are willing to pave a path for Lu Xu.

Liu Rennong is a rare exception. After all these years in the film industry, Li Yan never imagined that a major director would ruin the reputation of the Golden Flame Awards for personal gain.

And the Golden Flame Awards stupidly let Liu Rennong wreck it.

Of course, both sides have paid the price.

Liu Rennong was swindled out of a fortune, stuck in legal purgatory, and is now filming low-budget movies abroad to repay debts. Meanwhile, the Golden Flame Awards have completely lost their credibility, and no amount of scrambling can save them now—it’s hopeless.

Li Yan even suspects that at this year’s Contention Award, Lu Xu will once again get special treatment.

Or perhaps it shouldn’t be called favoritism.

Rather, his performance is so good the judges’ll overlook all the disadvantages Lu Xu might have and award him anyway.

Li Yan has asked himself: If Lu Xu wins again this year, would he be jealous? Would he hold a grudge?

Jealousy is inevitable.

But holding a grudge? There’s no need.

Li Yan thinks he would probably choose to collaborate with Lu Xu again, using him as a measuring stick.

Truthfully, aside from his middling luck with awards, Li Yan is already recognized as a top-tier actor in the film industry. Before working with Lu Xu on *Night Sky Observations*, he had already realized that Lu Xu would be his box-office competition.

He just didn’t expect it to happen so quickly—within just a few years, Lu Xu’s lead acting awards have matched his tally.

In terms of average box office earnings, Lu Xu even surpasses him.

Star power’s weird like that. Li Yan reached the top of the lead actor box office rankings precisely because of his audience appeal. What takes others blood, sweat, and tears to achieve, he can accomplish with just a single throwaway project.

For a time, Li Yan thought he had no rivals—until Lu Xu appeared.

One could say Lu Xu lit a fire under him to keep striving.

When Li Yan’s lead actor box office earnings surpassed 30 billion, Lu Xu was hot on his heels—but still a ways back at the time. Both had *Night Sky Observations* contributing to their totals, but then Lu Xu’s *Number A77* and *Dough Figurine* were released in quick succession, closing in fast, followed by *Night Sky Observations*.

Lu Xu is the driving force behind Li Yan’s continued efforts.

……

Just as Li Yan glanced at Lu Xu, Lu Xu happened to look back at him. The two exchanged a smile, and the moment was perfectly captured by the camera. Marketing accounts instantly grabbed screencaps and dubbed it *Rivals*.

The *Reign Supreme* crew and the *Good Rain in Season* crew weren’t that far apart, but they weren’t close enough for Lu Xu and Li Yan to chat casually. After they locked eyes, both looked away, their faces settling into seriousness.

"Watching an O become an A—see the GIF."

"...Hard pass."

"Dog-to-human glow-up—see the GIF."

"I agree with this one, keep ’em coming."

Because—any minute now, the Best Actor award will be announced.

For Lu Xu, standing in a similar position under similar spotlight, he’d already gone through this four times.

But no actor would ever tire of moments like these.

There’s nothing quite like being recognized for your craft and winning awards.

The presenter was last year's Best Actress winner, Yuan Meng. As she took the stage, the cameras stayed locked on the five Best Actor nominees.

Though Lu Xu's expression was serious, he was the most at ease of the bunch.

Shi Tianhao, being older, had small eyes. When the camera swept over him, if he wasn’t clapping, you’d swear he was asleep.

Li Yan waved at the camera.

Xie Zejie and Ni Xiuzhu each had their own version of a poker face, their expressions tense as the camera passed over them.

"Who’s your pick?"

"It's coming, it's coming, it's coming!!"

The big screen first played clips of the five nominees' performances—the Son of Heaven’s blend of mercy and ruthlessness in *Reign Supreme*, the desperate father sobbing in the rain, the husband embracing his wife... each one shone in its own way.

"Emmm... actually, I’ve gotta vent about something."

"It's just... when *By the River* was released, the trailer hyped up Ni Xiuzhu’s scene, but anyone who's seen the full movie knows that this is the only scene that holds up."

"The comment above speaks my mind, hahaha, exactly! This really is the only moment in *By the River* that showcases any acting brilliance."

"So I’m not buying Ni Xiuzhu’s win, but he’s got connections—everyone in the industry knows it, and even us gossip-loving netizens know it. It's all the gossip's fault, gossip got me hooked."

The audience had mixed thoughts, and the guests in the crowd had their own takes, yet they all unanimously applauded for the nominees.

Tan Qi stopped what she was doing, her gaze fixed tightly on the screen. As the presenter opened the envelope, she felt her nerves go into overdrive, her heart pounding wildly.

"The winner of this year's Contention Award for Best Actor is—"

Yuan Meng's voice suddenly felt distant yet eerily quiet, as if echoing in her ears. Time seemed to stretch endlessly.

Lu Xu wore a faint smile.

Ni Xiuzhu bit his lip, Xie Zejie's gaze even seemed to waver... in just a few seconds, Tan Qi felt she had seen so much, her mind suddenly razor-sharp.

"The winner of this year's Contention Award for Best Actor is—"

"Lu Xu, *Reign Supreme*."

A knot in her chest finally loosened.

Tan Qi watched as Lu Xu stood up, slapping hands with Chang Aiwei, dapping up Zheng Xiao, then waving at Li Yan from afar.

Li Yan responded with a smile, while Ni Xiuzhu—caught by the camera but out of focus—made no effort to mask his frustration in that moment. Realizing the camera was on him, he scrambled to paste on a smile, but the damage was done.

His slip-up was already immortalized on camera.

After rising, Lu Xu ran toward the stage. Tan Qi barely registered his words.

All she remembered was how radiant Lu Xu looked while accepting the award, his smile outshining the stars.

Lu Xu is a living miracle!!!

"This is Lu Xu's fifth Contention Award nomination and fourth win. He won at the XXth and XXth ceremonies..."

The background narration as Lu Xu took the stage was equally clear, filling Tan Qi's heart with swelling pride.

In the history of the Contention Award, there has never been an actor like Lu Xu, and there never will be.

On stage, Lu Xu reassured his fans, "This won't be the last time." He knows perfectly well how challenging the next Contention Award trophy will be, yet he continues to charge forward toward his goal.

Tan Qi couldn't hold back her tears—she truly couldn't.

Lu Xu defied expectations even in times when everyone thought it impossible, just like in every drama and film he starred in. Everyone counted him out, yet he succeeded anyway.

"The greatest underdog!!"

"Please never stop acting!"

As if hearing his fans' cheers, Lu Xu raised the trophy high on the awards stage and vowed, "I will always love this profession as an actor. I will act until I'm 80!"

"I will keep standing here until the end of my life!"

Talking about life's end is too final—as long as this person keeps acting, the world will be better for it.

The End.