Chapter 162: The Red Carpet Situation
[……]
[…Honestly, the truth is ten thousand times crueler than silence.]
[Ahhh, if I were Zhao Yifan, I’d be having a meltdown. If I kept quiet, at least I could still milk some sympathy, but now that the truth is out, this is just plain embarrassing.]
[So this is what they mean by ‘whoever looks bad feels the most awkward’?]
The netizens who had been loudly demanding justice for Zhao Yifan suddenly fell silent.
The Contention Awards committee hadn’t discriminated against him. Even the Reverse City production team—who had previously had conflicts with him—hadn’t left his name out of the submission. It was simply that… he hadn’t made the cut.
[Is someone really about to blame Lu Xu for submitting as Best Actor instead of Supporting Actor? It’s within the rules—people can submit however they want.]
[No need for all that. Before blaming others, maybe start by looking at yourself.]
[Honestly, why aren’t the people defending Zhao Yifan considering that the Reverse City production team had it even worse? Throughout the film’s release, their so-called lead actor refused to cooperate with promotions. If the movie hadn’t unexpectedly become a minor hit, he probably wouldn’t have even bothered showing his face. The production team was already generous enough to submit him for Best Actor. The fact that he didn’t get nominated—how is that their fault?]
[Wasn’t Zhao Yifan constantly complaining about having too little screen time? If you ask me, the production team should’ve submitted based on screen time. Lu Xu should be Best Actor, and Zhao Yifan should be in Supporting Actor. But then again… this year’s Best Supporting Actor category is just as tough.]
The reason awards season was so compelling was because every nominated actor was a powerhouse, making for exciting rivalries.
This year’s Contention Awards had an especially fierce competition for Best Actor, but the fight for Best Supporting Actor was just as intense. In fact, there had even been years in the awards’ history where the Best Supporting Actor lineup was stronger than the Best Actor nominees.
Since the selection pool for Best Actor was relatively narrow, supporting roles were more flexible—production teams could freely submit whoever they felt was the strongest contender.
Given Zhao Yifan’s performance in Reverse City, he had already struggled to break through in the Best Actor category. Even if he had been submitted for Best Supporting Actor, the result likely wouldn’t have been much different.
Of course, Zhao Yifan himself would never admit this. But in the eyes of many viewers, Reverse City had long since become Lu Xu’s film.
Without Lu Xu’s name attached, Reverse City would have struggled to even cross the 1 billion mark at the box office, given Zhao Yifan’s lack of star power.
And when it came to acting, the gap between the two was even more obvious—at least, the Contention Awards committee had already made their decision.
[Who’s still out here defending Zhao Yifan? Do people really think Lu Xu stole something from him?]
Fans believed that if anything, it was Lu Xu who had the misfortune of being dragged down by Zhao Yifan. The man wasn’t superior to Lu Xu in any aspect, yet he always acted as if Lu Xu had somehow taken advantage of him.
In a way, the Contention Awards nomination served as official recognition for Lu Xu. Before this, if you searched Zhao Yifan’s name in real-time trends, you’d actually find people seriously claiming that he was a better actor than Lu Xu.
…
With the release of the Contention Awards nominations, Lu Xu’s status as the leading figure of the younger generation was further cemented.
Setting aside the Stellar Awards from the TV industry, Lu Xu had now been nominated for two out of the three major film awards. The Golden Flame Awards and the Contention Awards had different focuses, but both required recognition from both judges and audiences to secure a nomination.
And the Contention Awards were by no means lesser than the Golden Flame Awards—some even considered them to hold more prestige.
This year’s Best Actor nominees were all heavyweight contenders. Aside from Lu Xu, the remaining four were all frequent nominees at major awards, each of them widely acknowledged as film emperor-level actors.
Notably, one of the nominees was none other than Ren Ningyi, one of the leads from The Watchers.
To some extent, while the lead roles in films and TV dramas frequently changed hands, the pool of actors who consistently earned award nominations remained largely the same. If you looked further back in time, it was almost always this same group of people.
When Lu Xu was first nominated for the Golden Flame Awards, he was still considered a newcomer in the film industry and wasn’t familiar with many of the established faces. But now, with the Contention Awards, he was once again facing the same competitors—naturally, he was beginning to recognize them.
For the industry, Lu Xu’s Golden Flame nomination might have been seen as a lucky break. But stacking that with a Contention Awards nomination? That was indisputable proof of his skill.
“Do you think Lu Xu has a chance at sweeping all three major film awards with Reverse City?”
“That’d be tough. Each of the big three has a different judging style. Like, Feather of Youth was good enough to get him a Golden Flame nomination, but it was never going to make the cut for the Contention Awards.”
“Agreed. But Reverse City is a Mu Lang film, so it might get different treatment than other movies. Plus, when it comes to awards, Lu Xu is already the undisputed top of his generation. No other young actor has outperformed him in this regard.”
“It’s just a nomination for now, though. I don’t think he’ll win this time, but for next year? I actually have high hopes for Fearless Life. Even though a lot of people think it’s just an overly sentimental drama.”
Even before the Contention Awards nominations were announced, the industry had been buzzing with discussions about Lu Xu. Statistically, he was in a league of his own—dominating every category, untouchable by his peers.
Where other actors his age had a long list of empty spaces in their awards history, Lu Xu’s was filled with one nomination after another, making him the envy of many.
With the Contention Awards nominations revealed and the Golden Flame Awards already under his belt, if he secured a nomination for the Critics’ Choice Awards as well, there would be no doubt—he would stand alone as the undisputed leader of the new generation in cinema.
Even if Lu Xu himself didn’t particularly care for that title.
From the start of this awards season to Lu Xu’s Contention Awards nomination, industry insiders had speculated about his path to winning major accolades.
Many predictions had initially assumed that among the three major awards, the Contention Awards would be the last one Lu Xu would be nominated for.
Film critics had always held a favorable view of Lu Xu, consistently giving him strong reviews.
Critics occupied a unique space—they were adjacent to the entertainment industry yet still separated from it. They could analyze, critique, and shape discussions, but they had no direct power over casting decisions or a film’s production choices.
When a production needed critics, it could elevate their voices and treat them as authority figures. But the moment their opinions became inconvenient, they were dismissed as mere background noise.
Because of this, the Critics’ Choice Awards had always been a somewhat paradoxical honor. It needed to maintain fairness and uphold its prestige, yet it also couldn’t afford to stray too far from the mainstream film industry.
The so-called mainstream in the industry didn’t particularly favor Lu Xu. So, if the Critics’ Choice Awards gave him glowing recognition, it would be a clear distinction between their perspective and that of the industry’s power players.
And yet—Lu Xu’s first major nomination had come from the Contention Awards.
At this point, whether he could achieve nominations in all three major film awards had practically become a matter of superstition.
[It’s all because our puppy is too good. Otherwise, there wouldn’t even be a choice to make!]
His fans were both stressed and thrilled.
After all, having the problem of expecting triple nominations was a luxury very few could experience.
And most importantly, this was a Best Actor nomination.
…
Lu Xu attended the Contention Awards red carpet alongside the cast of Reverse City.
His partnership with G-brand had become so solid that it was practically inseparable. Although G-brand had been in talks with rising young stars, Lu Xu still received top-tier treatment among industry artists.
Of course, after signing Lu Xu, G-brand gained significant exposure at major award ceremonies every year. In terms of camera time, Lu Xu was undoubtedly one of the most prominent stars.
According to fashion industry insiders, every year, various brands attempted to poach him from G-brand. Despite G-brand’s tight grip and Lu Xu’s own loyalty, that didn’t stop other companies from coveting him.
One only had to look at G-brand’s steadily increasing sales numbers over the years to understand how powerful Lu Xu was as a spokesperson.
More importantly, even the stiffest and most rigid designs seemed to come to life under Lu Xu’s styling.
In recent years, as he matured, he brought even more depth and sophistication to G-brand’s menswear.
On the red carpet, he gave a silent wave, instantly setting off a wave of screams from his fans.
Even though it was his first time attending the Contention Awards red carpet, he remained at ease, as if the event were his home turf.
[Puppy has turned white!]
[…Zhao Yifan isn’t here? He didn’t walk the red carpet with the Reverse City cast?]
[Would he even dare show up? Look at the ones walking the red carpet—Lu Xu was nominated, Mu Lang and Luo Kun were nominated, but he wasn’t. His fans were hinting at unfairness before they knew the truth, but if it were me, I’d be too embarrassed to come.]
Zhao Yifan indeed did not attend this year’s Contention Awards. Despite receiving an invitation from the organizing committee and having no scheduled events for the week, he still refused to show up just to be Lu Xu’s backdrop at the ceremony.
Most of the cast members sat together, and since Reverse City was one of the most prominent productions at this year’s Contention Awards, it was inevitable that the cameras would focus on Lu Xu. His past conflicts with Zhao Yifan were bound to be brought up and sensationalized once again.
Lu Xu had already experienced firsthand how public opinion would always lean in his favor.
Walking alongside Mu Lang and Luo Kun, Lu Xu suddenly heard a commotion behind him. Mu Lang glanced back and saw Liu Rennong stepping onto the red carpet with Bei Hong.
Liu Rennong was one of the presidium members for this year’s Contention Awards. Though he wasn’t particularly close to Mu Lang, their relationship was at least more neutral compared to Liu Rennong’s outright hostility with Miao Zhi.
Since Liu Rennong had approached them, Mu Lang slowed his pace slightly out of courtesy, allowing the other party to step forward and exchange greetings.
Because of this, Bei Hong briefly made eye contact with Lu Xu.
It was also Bei Hong’s first time attending the Contention Awards red carpet.
Compared to Lu Xu, Bei Hong had clearly put a lot of effort into his appearance. Dressed in a high-end custom ensemble with sharp, clean tailoring, he was every bit the carefully styled figure. Lu Xu had heard rumors that Liu Rennong Studio intended to mold Bei Hong into a “flower boy” idol, so his gaze instinctively drifted toward the other man.
He had never interacted with Bei Hong directly. Their only conflict had stemmed from casting disputes over Sanzu River. In Lu Xu’s memory, Bei Hong… did seem a little more refined than before.
At the very least, he looked better than he had while playing the protagonist of Sanzu River.
Back then, Bei Hong’s face could be described as sharp and angular—not necessarily handsome, but at least structured enough to hold up under a film camera. Now, however, the moment Lu Xu caught sight of his face, one word suddenly popped into his mind—bloated.
Like a brand-new plush doll that hadn’t been stuffed properly, so someone overcompensated and crammed in too much cotton, leaving it looking overly full and puffy.
Did Bei Hong himself not realize it? And did Director Liu Rennong really not know either?
Lu Xu’s gaze met Liu Rennong’s.
At first glance, Liu Rennong exuded warmth and kindness, the type of person who made others feel instantly at ease. But Lu Xu had dealt with all kinds of directors and knew one thing for sure—any director who managed to climb to the top of the industry was never easy to handle.
Liu Rennong noticed Lu Xu as well and smiled. “This must be Lu Xu? I’ve heard a lot about you, truly.”
He pointed at Lu Xu and added, “You’ve given me quite a bit of trouble.” His tone was casual, as if matters like Qi Di terminating his contract or Bei Hong becoming a public laughingstock were nothing more than minor inconveniences. But that nonchalance only made Lu Xu’s internal alarm bells ring.
Liu Rennong was exactly the kind of person who was the hardest to deal with!
He never left any leverage for others to use against him.
Even when he set someone up, he probably did it with a smile—so seamlessly that the victim wouldn’t even realize what had happened.
Liu Rennong went on to mention Fearless Life, which Lu Xu had recently finished filming. “Working with Director Miao must have been a great learning experience. He’s a director with both vision and talent.”
Judging by his tone, an outsider would never have guessed that he and Miao Zhi had completely fallen out.
Lu Xu could only lower his head slightly and say, “Yes, I’ve learned a lot from Director Miao.”
Liu Rennong gave him a long, meaningful look.
What Lu Xu couldn’t understand was how someone as smooth and strategic as Liu Rennong had ended up signing actors like Qi Di and Bei Hong—both impulsive types who seemed to have learned barely a tenth of his emotional intelligence.
Even with Liu Rennong standing between them, Lu Xu could tell that Bei Hong didn’t like him.
After the red carpet event concluded and they entered the hall, Mu Lang slowed his pace and asked Lu Xu, “Impressive, isn’t he?”
Lu Xu rubbed his nose.
Luo Kun chuckled at Mu Lang and said, “Don’t go scaring Lu Xu now. Honest kids can’t handle being played.”
“He’s not that terrifying. I just want Lu Xu to learn a thing or two from him about dealing with people,” Mu Lang replied. “You have to admit, there’s a lot to pick up.”
By now, Lu Xu had figured it out—Mu Lang didn’t particularly like Liu Rennong either.
It was just like with actors. Once they reached the top tier, even if there was no outright conflict, they were rarely on good terms. At that level, competition for resources was inevitable.
Directing, however, involved creative talent, and in that field, there was an unspoken rule: There’s no number one in literature, no number two in martial arts. Among directors, that translated to everyone thinking they’re number one.
Liu Rennong was too smooth—so much so that he almost didn’t seem like he belonged in the directing world.
…
To Lu Xu, walking the red carpet was just a trivial matter, something he didn’t even think twice about. While the Contention Awards red carpet did have a more formal atmosphere, he had already attended the Golden Flame Awards before.
However, at his level of fame, anything that happened on the red carpet was bound to be magnified.
For instance, the fact that he had turned down Sanzu River and now found himself face-to-face with Sanzu River’s lead actor, Bei Hong, on the red carpet was something the internet quickly latched onto.
Especially since, during Sanzu River’s filming, Bei Hong had once vaguely implied that Lu Xu was old.
Up until now, the two had never appeared in the same frame, and most netizens thought Bei Hong didn’t actually look that young either.
Until they did appear in the same frame—
That was when people realized that saying Bei Hong didn’t look that young had actually been a compliment.
[If I were Bei Hong, the moment Director Liu Rennong led me onto that red carpet, I’d pretend to look up at the sky and take 0.5 steps per step.]
[I just have one question: how did he ever have the audacity to suggest that Lu Xu looked older than him? What on earth gave him that kind of confidence?]
[To be honest… sigh, forget it, I won’t say it. I tend to be too blunt.]
If Bei Hong had never mocked Lu Xu, netizens would have just glanced at the photos and moved on—because sometimes, the truth was too brutal to dwell on.
But!
Bei Hong! Had mocked! Lu Xu!
What was this if not the equivalent of the lowest-ranked student in the class mocking the top scorer?
Even if this confidence came from Liu Rennong, it was still unacceptable!
This was completely upside down, an absolute defiance of logic!
[Let’s not forget, this guy is just here to leech off the red carpet. His entire filmography consists of Sanzu River, and that film isn’t even eligible for a Contention Award nomination.]
[Forget the Contention Awards—he doesn’t qualify for anything. If we’re talking actual achievements, even Qi Di ranks higher than him. At least Qi Di had a third lead role in How Much Do You Know.]
[But hey, he’s already attended so many high-profile events. Signing with Liu Rennong Studio must be amazing.]
[Envy.]
[His agency might be great, but am I the only one who thinks his aesthetic is… questionable? That heavy makeup makes him look like an oversized steamed bun. Is that really supposed to be attractive?]
[As someone currently eating a steamed bun, I demand to know what they ever did to deserve such slander.]
…
Bei Hong was stuck between two conflicting paths—on one hand, he was being shaped into a flower boy idol; on the other, he was trying to build a comedic persona. He understood that, as a member of a major director’s studio, audiences would never see him as relatable in the way other celebrities were.
He had to change that aloof image.
Even if he still acted superior among his peers, the audience didn’t need to know that.
The problem was, just because he wanted to act friendly with other actors didn’t mean they were willing to play along. His way of proving his good relationships was often through sudden, unsolicited physical contact—so while trending hashtags like “Brotherhood!” and “Best friendship ever!” filled social media, the faces of the other actors in those clips always showed expressions of shock or awkward discomfort.
After appearing alongside Lu Xu on the red carpet, Bei Hong—who had just managed to gain a few new fans—ended up losing some again.
Because in direct comparison, Lu Xu did have the kind of face that naturally attracted more fans.
On top of that, Lu Xu had award nominations and box office success. Just Reverse City alone outperformed Sanzu River by a landslide. Walking the red carpet, Lu Xu’s effortless confidence was something Bei Hong simply couldn’t match.
[I have a feeling—Fearless Life really changed Lu Xu. Hasn’t he been out of the public eye for a while? He seems like a completely different person.]
As soon as this comment was posted, the replies flooded in with agreement.
Lu Xu had always been mature and good-looking, but tonight, under the camera’s gaze, it was as if he had undergone a transformation.
He didn’t need to force an imposing presence—yet no matter where he walked, he remained the undeniable focal point of every shot.
