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Chapter 11: Waiting for the patience of a cloud

“Oh, Chen Ge, why are your eyes red? What happened?”

After Wu Chen sat down, Pu Songri carefully poked Wu Chen’s elbow.

“It’s nothing, the wind was strong just now, and sand got in, so I rubbed them.”

“Hmm, the wind outside is indeed quite strong, but the school isn’t under construction recently, so how could there be sand? That’s strange!”

Pu Songri mumbled, leaving Wu Chen speechless.

“What, you want to be a detective? I just said it casually, besides sand, couldn’t it be something else?”

“Hehe, alright.” Pu Songri scratched his head, chuckled twice, and dropped the subject.

On stage, Mu Deyuan was still eloquently imparting knowledge and experience, but Wu Chen’s mind was still replaying the more than fifty thousand yuan.

In his previous life, his parents also gave him a sum of money, but that was five or six years after his graduation in his previous life.

That time, Wu Yangming didn't mention anything about a “wife fund,” he just forced it on him, saying, “Use it well.”

In his previous life, his family’s shoe factory couldn't sustain itself after 2012; the entire Foshan footwear industry collapsed.

Fortunately, they earned a little money in the early years, and with Wu Chen working, the family did not decline mid-way.

“I need to start transforming; at least the stalls in the shoe city need to be taken over…” Thinking of this, Wu Chen’s eyes lit up.

“No, it’s not impossible to get some funding. The shoes of the three protagonists… if done well, they can be a gimmick. No big money, but I should be able to make some small money!”

...

Mu Deyuan’s four consecutive periods of class were always an ordeal.

On one hand, the buzzing of the film projector mixed with the gurgling of water in the radiators made it especially easy for people to doze off.

On the other hand, this five-minute analysis task forced everyone except Wu Chen to perk up, listen carefully, and frantically take notes with their pen tips on their notebooks, fearing a scolding later.

During the break of the second class, almost no one left the classroom except those who couldn’t hold back and needed to use the restroom. Seeing Mu Deyuan carrying his thermos to get water, a crowd of people frantically surged towards Wu Chen.

“Chen Ge, help me out, which point should I analyze later? The epic sense created by natural light effects? Or terrain and camera movement?”

“Chen Ge! That… how do I phrase the term for scattered light?”

“...”

Wu Chen’s head was as big as a bucket, but the most troublesome were his own roommates.

Xiang Zhuo directly opened “A History of British Cinematography” and shoved it under Wu Chen’s nose: “Help me draw a composition reference for Wallace; I’m going to show off to Lao Mu later!”

“I think you want to show off to me right now.”

Wu Chen quickly answered a few classmates’ questions, then glared at Xiang Zhuo irritably, “Damn it, why don’t you just ask me to write the World Film Encyclopedia for you? Honestly talk about the narrative use of weather elements, five minutes is enough for you to ramble.”

“Alright, I just feel like it lacks a certain flair.”

Xiang Zhuo nodded and then shook his head, almost making Wu Chen want to hit him with a hammer.

Fortunately, Pu Songri and Chu Tianshu were more reliable. Wu Chen leaned over to take a look; their analysis points were well-structured, clearly showing they had listened attentively and hadn't been lazy.

Just as the group of people were still chattering non-stop, the “click” of a thermos cap being tightened suddenly came from outside the crowd.

Instantly, everyone’s voices dropped eight octaves.

“By the way, for my ‘War Film Cinematography Practice’ next semester, I need someone to carry the Arriflex 435. Who wants to?”

“Me, teacher, I’ll do it!”

While everyone was still hesitating, Xiang Zhuo had already enthusiastically raised his hand to volunteer.

“Then it’s you!” Mu Deyuan nodded, “Alright, let’s start class. Starting this class, everyone will analyze for five minutes. Who wants to go first and set an example?”

“Wu Chen!”

“Yes, let Chen Ge go first, we’ll learn from him!”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“...”

Wu Chen looked at this unreliable group of classmates with some helplessness; every time there was a theoretical analysis or practical demonstration, he would be pushed to the forefront first.

“Wu Chen, you go first.” Mu Deyuan looked at the disappointing students below the stage, sighed, and then waved his hand to signal.

For this kind of analysis, Wu Chen could now speak with his eyes closed, feeling no pressure at all.

“What most subverted me about ‘Braveheart’ was how Mel Gibson turned Scotland’s overcast sky into a natural softbox.”

Wu Chen tapped the storyboard sketch on the blackboard, chalk dust sizzling as it fell into the radiator gaps, “For example, in the scene where Wallace meets the princess in secret, they waited four days for overcast clouds during actual filming, just to let the scattered light evenly cover both their profiles, but without diminishing the reflections in their eyes—those are the anchor points of the characters’ souls.”

“Of course, if it were us filming now…” Wu Chen deliberately glanced at the gloomy sky outside the window, “The grip team would have been scolded by the production manager into using ND filters to force it!”

Immediately, a burst of suppressed laughter came from the back row.

Amidst the laughter, Mu Deyuan’s thermos clinked with a “dong,” and the entire room fell silent. He squinted and asked, “So you think compromise is inevitable?”

“No, I want to say that we have digital color grading tools now, more than in 1995.”

Wu Chen twirled an old metal lens cap with his fingertips, “But the easier the technology, the easier it is to forget the patience of waiting for a cloud…”

“It’s over, Chen Ge just elevated the theme; our analysis feels redundant now.”

“We should have thought of this when we pushed Chen Ge out, but there’s also a benefit; maybe if Lao Mu is happy, he’ll scold us less?”

“Makes sense!”

“...”

...

“The patience to wait for a cloud, this kid, he’s subtly criticizing the domestic industry.”

After the fourth class ended, Mu Deyuan walked back to his office carrying his thermos, muttering with a smile.

“Only those who can endure the overcast sky and wait for clear weather are called Directors.”

After Mu Deyuan returned to his office, he seemed to be answering Wu Chen’s analysis, muttering to himself, “It should be so!” He picked up the script and storyboard for “the dark side,” pondered for a moment, and then walked out of the office, ready to turn left, but the foot he had lifted suddenly pulled back.

“It should be so!”

Mu Deyuan suddenly smiled inexplicably, then put the script and storyboard for “the dark side” back into the office, and then headed in the direction of the Director department.

Wu Chen and his roommates were already heading to the cafeteria together.

“It’s all because of this damn winter; the girls are wrapped up like zongzi, completely wasting such beautiful faces!” Xiang Zhuo complained as he walked, his gaze fixed firmly ahead.

“You are truly restless.”

Wu Chen sighed, indeed it was the age where one could challenge the heavens.

Following Xiang Zhuo’s gaze, what came into view was a three-person female eating squad.

“Dong Xuan?”

Wu Chen recognized one of them just by her profile; her distinctiveness was too high.

“The other one looks like Guan Yue!”

As for the last person, because she didn’t turn her head, Wu Chen didn’t know who she was either.

“Your eyesight is pretty good; you immediately spotted Shangguan Yan from ‘snow goddess dragon’!” Wu Chen teased.

“Heh, that’s natural; I even watched the TV series during the summer vacation, it was good!” Xiang Zhuo chuckled.

Pu Songri and Chu Tianshu didn't make a sound. Wu Chen curiously glanced over; these two cowards’ eyes darted around, wanting to look but not daring to, like peeking at an exam paper.

Wu Chen directly slapped both of them on the head.

“If you want to look, then look boldly. What, are they going to poke your eyes out or something?”

“Uh!”

...

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