The Best Director

Chapter 41: One Billion Times’



Chapter 41: One Billion Times’

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio | Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Wang Yang walked onto the balcony, looked at Rachel leaning against the railing, and greeted her with a smile, “What are you looking at? Why aren’t you playing cards?” Rachel shook her head slightly with a smile, “I’m not very good at playing. I’ve always been an idiot when it comes to this, so I came out for some fresh air.” Wang Yang nodded, leaned back against the railing, and asked with a tilted head, “Rachel, you’re 20 now, any thoughts?”

“Oh!” Rachel looked surprised, then feigned annoyance, “Yang, do you know? Asking a girl this kind of question is really annoying.” Saying so, she laughed, sighed, and said, “My thought is, I just got one year older.”

Wang Yang laughed heartily, looked up at the clear blue sky, and said as if to console her, “Everyone gets older, you can think of it in a good way, in another year you’ll be able to drink in this country. Wow!” He exclaimed, “It’s something to look forward to, isn’t it?”

Rachel rolled her eyes and said with a grin, “It’s something for alcoholics to look forward to, but I am not one.” Wang Yang shrugged and said, “Neither am I. So, nothing to look forward to then?” Rachel laughed and said, “That’s right, but you can look forward to growing some more facial hair, that might make you look handsomer.” Wang Yang, touching his own cheek, wondered,

“Really?”

At that moment, Jessica’s voice came over, “Rachel, Yang, come play cards!

She stood in the nearby hall, urging, “Come on, come on!”

“Coming!” Wang Yang responded, turned to Rachel with a smile, “Let s go together, you’re the star today, it’s no fun without the star playing.” Rachel nodded and smiled, “You’re right.”

In the living room, everyone was sitting on the floor, playing Texas Hold em poker. Michael Pitt held an unlit cigarette in his mouth, with two hole cards in hand, his expression detached, revealing no emotions; Joshua furrowed his brows, constantly glancing at Michael Pitt; Zachary had given up early in this hand, his mind not on the game, and was busy courting Erin Iris next to him.

“Looks like the battle is intense!” Wang Yang said with a laugh as he sat down, Jessica and Rachel also found their spots opposite him, ready to join in the next

hand.

As the final community card of the hand was revealed, Michael Pitt won with a three-of-a-kind tens. He raked all of the plastic chips in the pot to his feet, where they were piling up mountainously. These plastic chips were bought by Wang Yang yesterday, specifically for use today.

Watching his own pile of chips dwindle, Joshua immediately freaked out, glared at Michael Pitt, and said, “Damn it, man, are you pulling some tricks?” Michael Pitt, with the cigarette in his mouth, shook his head, “No, just luck.” Joshua bit his lip, lowering his voice, “Luck? You’ve been winning several hands in a row! It can’t just be luck! Tell me, how are you cheating?”

“Joshua, stop embarrassing yourself, shut your mouth,” Jessica said irritably, picked up the deck of cards that had been shuffled, and began to deal.

Wang Yang took the card that Jessica dealt to him, glanced at it, and laughed, “Wow, good card!” Jessica continued to deal while laughing at him, “Really? Wang Yang nodded with a laugh, picked up the second card, and said excitedly, “Wow, fantastic! Jessica, you’re bringing me luck!” When it was his turn to bet, Wang Yang pushed all his initial chips into the middle, confidently declaring, “ALL-IN!”

Michael Pitt, Joshua, Zachary, Eileen, and Rachel were all stunned. They looked at Wang Yang skeptically, while Jessica also couldn’t quite believe it. Were the cards she dealt to Yang really that good? Could it be a pair of aces?

“Oh, come on!” Joshua shouted in irritation. Not even the first community card was revealed, and he’s forcing others to match a big bet, such behavior is truly unethical! He took a few looks at the ultra-confident Wang Yang, thought for a moment, and then reluctantly tossed his cards, saying, “I fold!”

“I fold too,” Zachary also threw his cards down and then turned to Eileen next to him, “Eileen, don’t call.” He then scratched his head and said, “Uh, folks, nobody else call!”

Seeing Wang Yang’s determined expression, everyone ultimately chose to give up on that hand. Wang Yang instantly cheered, grinning as he swept all the betting chips toward himself. Normally in this situation, the winner wouldn’t need to reveal their hole cards, but this wasn’t a casino, just friends having fun. At everyone’s request, Wang Yang nonchalantly flipped over his hole cards, revealing a three of hearts and a six of spades.

Everyone was stunned for a moment, then boos filled the air—they were two lousy cards! Jessica looked somewhat disappointed, as she had thought it would be a pair of aces. Zachary, who received a glare from Eileen, complained with a wounded tone, “Yang, you’re too cunning!” Joshua clasped his hair with both hands, protesting, “Come on, I had a pair of nines!” Rachel laughed, “I’ve seen another side of Yang; his acting is amazing!” Wang Yang laughed haughtily as he gathered the poker cards, saying, “Again, let’s go again!”

After finishing the poker game, singing, dancing, and watching DVDs… that evening, the cake that had been ordered from the bakery was delivered. Everyone gathered around to sing Rachel a birthday song, eat cake, and they continued having fun until late, before happily heading home.

The apartment grew quiet once more. Wang Yang sat on the rattan couch watching TV, while Michael Pitt sitting at the other end, thought about the day’s events and suddenly asked, “Yang, I’m a little confused, between Jessica and Rachel, who is your girlfriend?”

“What?” Wang Yang was taken aback, turned to look at Michael Pitt, and shrugged, “No, neither of them.” Michael Pitt smiled faintly, “Interesting. Wang Yang ignored him and continued to watch TV, but after a while, Michael Pitt added, “Haven’t you noticed? They both seem quite fond of you.

Staring at the TV screen, Wang Yang fell into silence. How could he not notice? He was neither a fool nor a novice to romance; he understood these things, it’s just that… Wang Yang grabbed the remote to turn off the TV and stood up to head to his bedroom, saying, “Enough, Michael, you don’t need to worry about these things.”

Michael Pitt lay down on the rattan couch, looking up at Wang Yang’s retreating figure and softly said, “You can’t always be like this.” “I know.” Wang Yang paused for a moment, then quickly walked into his bedroom. His mood was significantly irritated by Michael Pitt’s words. Pacing in his bedroom, he remembered the day at the beach when he nearly confessed his feelings to Jessica, but then that face appeared, making him suddenly feel he wasn’t ready to start a new relationship.

Wang Yang walked about a bit more and then headed towards a corner to look at a cardboard box full of books. This box was something he took with him when he left the University of Southern California; the books he had brought along were still inside, never having been placed on a bookshelf. He pulled out a book from the box, “Little Women,” and sat down by the bed. Opening to a page, a photo suddenly became visible.

in the photo, a blonde girl smiled radiantly, her eyes bright like stars in the night. Wang Yang collapsed onto the bed, holding the photo in his hands, and let out a breath, murmuring, “Damn…”

O

The next day, through Sandy Pikes’ contact, Wang Yang drove to Wally Pfister’s photography studio. This future “Best Cinematographer” currently had no film offers and ran a small shop where he worked as both the owner and the only employee, taking photos for customers and earning a meager profit.

Wang Yang arrived at the photography store and met Wally Pfister, a middle- aged Caucasian man with a warm smile and a dense beard on his cheeks and chin. He extended his hand and chuckled, “Hello, Mr. Wang.” Wang Yang shook his hand, returning the smile, “Hello, Mr. Pfister, please, just call me Yang.” After getting acquainted, Wally Pfister led Wang Yang inside the studio. As soon as they sat down, Wang Yang got straight to the point, “Wally, I believe Sandy has already told you why I’m here. ‘High School Musical’ needs an outstanding cinematographer, and I hope you can join us.”

Wally Pfister, while making coffee, laughed and said, “Yang, if given the choice between shooting movies or family portraits, I would of course choose movies. 1 do need work, and I’m grateful for the opportunity, but you know…” He handed Wang Yang the freshly made coffee, continuing, “I need to see if shooting this film is within my capabilities.”

Wang Yang accepted the coffee, nodded in understanding, and from his briefcase, he pulled out some documents, introducing to Wally, “This contains part of the ‘High School Musical’ screenplay and some storyboards, as well as a list of the film equipment we’ve rented.”

“Okay, let me take a look.” Wally Pfister sat down, holding the script and storyboard to review in detail. Wang Yang had used all his drawing skills and seriously drafted the storyboards, so Wally could understand them. He quietly read for a long time until he reached the last page before raising his head, saying, “The storyboard is fully fleshed out; you can tell that you’ve thought deeply about this film.” Wang Yang took a sip of coffee and smiled, “Of course, I’m serious, not just ‘a kid playing with mud’ as the media says.”

Wally Pfister nodded, appreciatively saying, “Honestly, the biggest concern for a cinematographer working with a new director is the director being unprepared. Having the storyboard is a lot better; at least he won’t suddenly say ‘I don’t know what to do next’.” He laughed, then added seriously, “But, Yang, if I were the cinematographer, I’d have my own ideas during the shoot, and sometimes, I wouldn’t follow the storyboard exactly.

Wang Yang shrugged nonchalantly, “Wally, I understand that. Even though I haven’t made a film, I know that there are many practical situations during shooting that aren’t considered when drawing a storyboard.” He picked up the stack of storyboards and flipped through them, laughing, “It’s just a tool, not a commandment.”

Hearing him say that, Wally Pfister’s smile grew wider. He thought for a moment then said, “For this film, I’m thinking of bright lighting; the color tone should be vibrant and sunny, right?” Wang Yang nodded, “Yes.” Wally Pfister picked up his coffee cup, saying, “These shots aren’t difficult; my skills are up to the task. But I have no experience shooting the musical sequences.”

“For the musical sequences, I plan to use multiple cameras and reshoots to complete them, then choose the best shots during post-production,” Wang Yang said, sharing his thoughts, looking at Wally Pfister, he asked, “What do you think?”

Wally Pfister nodded in agreement, “That’s a good idea, but it will use more film.” Wang Yang, hearing this, laughed, “Don’t worry about that. As the producer, I assure you, we won’t skimp on film; for the sake of the movie’s quality, neither the director nor the cinematographer will be scolded for using up too much film.” Wally Pfister immediately smiled, “Then I have no issues, I’m in.”

“Wow!” Wang Yang’s face lit up with joy, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Wally Pfister’s cinematography skills were top-notch, and he had plenty of experience, especially since he said he “would have his own ideas,” which was a blessing for a novice director like him. He could learn a lot and compensate for his own deficiencies; it was also a great thing for the film, as only with a devoted cinematographer could the visuals truly excel.

Thinking about this, Wang Yang reached out his hand excitedly, saying, “Wally, it’s fantastic to work with you, I’m really looking forward to it.”

Wally Pfister smiled and shook his hand. Just as he was about to say something, his phone suddenly rang. He apologized and took out his phone to check, his brow furrowed in frustration as he muttered, “That fat guy again.” He answered the phone, “Harry, sorry, I really don’t need an assistant… I know…” “Fat guy? Harry?” Wang Yang frozen for a moment, a vision of a chubby figure in a McDonald’s uniform coming to mind, he murmured: “Harry?” As soon as Wally Pfister hung up the phone, Wang Yang hurriedly asked, “Wally, who was that?”

Wally Pfister shrugged, not quite understanding why Wang Yang was so interested, but he saw no harm in disclosing, “Some fat guy who somehow got my information, probably online? He showed up here once, and then called me every day. In fact, I have a friend who is also being pestered by him.” He spread his hands in amusement, “He says he hopes to become my photography assistant, but you saw, I haven’t had a single client all morning, this place is barely staying open, how could I hire an assistant?”

“His name is Harry George?” Wang Yang pressed on, explaining, “Wally, that fat guy could be an old friend I haven’t seen in a long time.” When he got the contract from Lionsgate, he had called Harry George, but instead of congratulations, the fat guy cursed at him. Then he quit his part-time job at McDonald’s, and he hadn’t seen or contacted him since.

Wally Pfister thought carefully, then shook his head, “I don’t quite remember, but I have his business card. I’ll look for it.” He went to a desk in the corner and started searching on it, soon calling out, “Found it, it’s indeed Harry George.” He handed the business card over to Wang Yang, who had followed him, smiling, “Looks like he really is your friend.”

Wang Yang’s heart skipped a beat as he took the business card and saw the crudely printed card with the bold lines “Photographer, Harry George,” along with a contact number, home address, and the workplace, offering various photography services. Wang Yang turned the card over in his hands, the corners of his mouth slowly curving into a smile until he burst out laughing joyfully, “This guy, this guy…” He looked at Wally Pfister and asked quickly, “Wally, do you think he has the ability to be a film photography assistant? Or maybe handle miscellaneous tasks?”

“He has his own understanding of photography and knows some professional stuff,” Wally Pfister praised, then shook his head, “However, he said he hasn’t operated a camera, it’s all theory, so I don’t think he can handle cinematography on his own. But for moving and carrying stuff, should be no problem.”

“Thanks!” Wang Yang said excitedly, his fist clenched, “I’ve got to go. Wally, you discuss the contract with Sandy.” He flicked the business card in his hand and smiled, “I have to go see this old friend now, goodbye!”

Wally Pfister nodded in understanding and joked, “Tell that fatso for me, if he wants to be my assistant, he’s got to start losing weight.”

“Will do!” Wang Yang laughed, picked up his briefcase, and quickly walked outside.

Following the address on the back of the business card, Wang Yang drove to Hollywood Boulevard, parked his car, and headed toward the “opposite street of the front door of the Chinese Theatre,” the workplace of Harry George. He didn’t call Harry George and didn’t even know if the fatso was at his “workplace,” but he drove there regardless.

It was a fiercely sunny afternoon with no celebrations on the street, so there weren’t many tourists on Hollywood Boulevard. He could already see the Chinese Theatre on the opposite street from a distance. Wang Yang walked a bit further and soon spotted the familiar chubby figure of Harry George.

The fat man was wearing a loose striped T-shirt, sporting a white cap, and hanging a Polaroid camera around his neck. He was sweating profusely as he pestered passing tourists to drum up business. But everyone shook their heads and waved him off—who doesn’t have a camera while traveling these days?

Wang Yang slowly approached, and as he got closer, he could see that Harry George had slimmed down quite a bit, his skin had darkened, and his previously bushy sideburns had been trimmed neat, yet his eyes were brighter than ever. Wang Yang walked up behind the fat man and smiled, “Hey, I want a picture!” “Oh, sure, sure! I’ll take one for you right away!” Harry George excitedly turned around, both hands grabbing the Polaroid camera from his neck, but when he saw it was Wang Yang, he stood frozen in shock: “Yang?” He panted heavily, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead, his plump face looking as though it had just been fished out of water.

Wang Yang positioned himself with his back to the Chinese Theatre and earnestly said, “Take my picture, photographer!”

“OK!” Harry was solemn as he raised the camera to Wang Yang, pressed the button, and with a click, the camera ejected a slide of film. Harry pulled out the film and handed it to Wang Yang, saying, “There you go.”

“I’m not planning on paying,” Wang Yang said with a smile, examining the photo—it was well taken. Looking at a sweating Harry George, although he had already guessed the reason, Wang Yang still asked, “Harry, why are you here? Did you quit your job at McDonald’s?”

McDonald’s? It seemed like the funniest joke to Harry George, who suddenly burst into raucous laughter. His face squished together, “Of course, I quit! To hell with McDonald’s!” His laughter caught the attention of passersby, but the fat man didn’t care one bit and continued to laugh loudly, saying, “Yang, thank you, you were right! I’m so happy now, doing what I love. Every time I take a photo for someone, it makes me a thousand times—no, no, no, ten thousand times—no, no, no, a hundred thousand times happier than selling a burger…” His voice grew louder with each repetition, yelling, “A million times, ten million times, a billion times!”

Watching Harry George gasp for breath in his excitement, Wang Yang stepped forward and punched the fat man in the shoulder, smiling, “Buddy, it’s a trillion times!”

“You’re right, it’s a trillion times!” Harry George shouted again, then relaxed all over and chuckled foolishly to himself, “A trillion times… whoa, a trillion times!” He looked at Wang Yang with a mix of shyness and pride, “Yang, my dream, it’s come back to life.”

“Harry, it never died,” Wang Yang felt very happy inside. He remembered the fat man’s frustrations at McDonald’s and contrasted it with his buoyant spirit now. How could he, as a friend, not be happy? He gestured toward the parking lot and smiled at Harry, “Come with me, I’m taking you somewhere.”

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