In the winter of 2003, Beijing was bitterly cold, and the air was thick with the damp chill of impending snow.
The gloomy sky hung low, as if the entire city was enveloped in a cold haze.
Students of the Beijing Film Academy were bundled up in extremely thick clothes, their steps hurried, and even the old bicycles parked downstairs from the Photography Department building swayed precariously in the cold wind.
Wu Chen walked along the teaching building corridor, his hands in the pockets of his brand-new woolen overcoat, his sweater still emitting a faint smell of mothballs.
Because of the extreme cold, Wu Chen occasionally extended his hands, exhaling a puff of white mist, and after doing so, he would rub his hands vigorously, while the folder in his arms remained tightly clutched to his chest.
“Achhoo!” Wu Chen involuntarily sneezed, feeling a stinging sensation on the tip of his nose from the cold wind.
“This damn weather…”
“Chen Ge, it’s not that cold!” Pu Songri, standing beside Wu Chen, couldn’t help but laugh at his expression.
“You, a native Heilongjiangian, of course wouldn’t feel it,” Wu Chen said, exasperated, looking at the chubby young man next to him.
Pu Songri was already round in physique, and wearing a heavy black down jacket, wrapped up tightly, and with a brown scarf, his mouth opening and closing as he mumbled, making him look particularly plump.
“I forgot, Chen Ge is from Guangfu!” Pu Songri chuckled, “But Chen Ge, are you really not going to wear a scarf? I see your neck is all red…”
“I don’t have that habit, never mind, I’ll just go buy one later,” Wu Chen sighed; as a Guangfu native, he really wasn’t used to wearing scarves, but circumstances forced his hand.
“Let’s walk faster, I don’t know if Lao Mu will be busy later…”
Wu Chen quickened his pace, urging.
“Um, Chen Ge, the school cafeteria might be a bit crowded later, how about I go queue first, otherwise we won’t even get to eat.”
Pu Songri quickly caught up, but kept his head down, looking at his feet, a hint of timidity on his face.
“You coward!”
Wu Chen stopped, looked at the somewhat hesitant Pu Songri, and couldn’t help but sigh.
Among the nine students in the 2003 Story Photography class, in his opinion, only Pu Songri had decent talent and skill; in his past life, only Pu Songri made a name for himself, while the others barely made a ripple.
In his previous life, although he graduated with a finance degree from a first-tier university, he had a passion for photography, and after graduation, by chance, he became a photographer.
He truly had talent, working his way up in the photography circle for several years, and by a fortunate opportunity, he got into a film crew, then was promoted from junior photography assistant to main cinematographer, and in the years before his rebirth, he even became an assistant Director for a film crew.
On the day of his rebirth, he had just finished negotiating a small investment with an investor, preparing to direct an online drama himself.
He thought he could finally direct his own work, but after the negotiation, he returned to the film crew, in high spirits, and was about to light a cigarette to relax, when suddenly, he didn’t know which damn prop master had rigged the shoddy wire, and the line broke during staff testing.
Because he happened to be looking down to light his cigarette, and the smoke had just risen, he didn’t react in time, only hearing a shout from beside him, “Director Wu, watch out…”
Then there was a crash, and he lost consciousness; when he woke up again, it was autumn 2000, the year he had just started high school.
Perhaps it was due to his unwillingness to direct his own work in his previous life, or his pursuit of the dream of light and shadow, but after his rebirth, he chose the Beijing Film Academy with almost no hesitation.
However, in 2003, the Director Department did not admit fresh graduates, so he could only settle for the next best thing, choosing another signature major of the Film Academy: Feature Film Photography.
...
“Chen Ge, I’m not a coward! If we go together, we go together…”
Perhaps spurred on, and also because he was still young, Pu Songri subconsciously responded after Wu Chen’s words.
“I know you’re not a coward, just kidding. How about this, you wait for me at the door, I’m worried you’ll affect my performance if we go in together.”
Wu Chen chuckled, patting Pu Songri’s shoulder.
Pu Songri was one of the initial members of his team, and he was also honest and sincere; although he was a bit timid, he was definitely a promising talent, just still quite green.
“Alright then!”
Pu Songri hesitated repeatedly, and seeing that Wu Chen seemed to have made up his mind, he nodded.
At the end of the corridor, at the door of Mu Deyuan’s office.
Wu Chen knocked on the door without hesitation and called out, “Teacher Mu!”
At this moment, Mu Deyuan was lightly flicking the bottom of a Yuxi cigarette box with his thumbnail, a cigarette sliding into his fingers, when he suddenly heard the call, so he had to stop what he was doing, “Come in!”
Wu Chen directly pushed open the door; the indoor light was dim, thin square felt rugs covered the floor, and the air was filled with a rich tobacco scent and the woody aroma of old wooden bookshelves.
The indoor heating was average, as the building was quite old and the heating facilities were poor, but compared to the cold outside, it was still exceptionally pleasant.
“Having problems with your studies?”
Mu Deyuan’s eyes narrowed slightly; although Wu Chen had tucked the folder into his arms, covered by his woolen overcoat, he still caught a glimpse of it, but he didn’t expose it, his index and middle fingers already automatically curved into the shape of holding a cigarette.
“No problems with my studies, I just want to go further. Teacher, do you still have a copy of the work print for your film, black mansion's ghost? Your student would like to observe it?”
Wu Chen stepped forward, casually sweeping over the old domestic kerosene lighter on the table, skillfully flicking it with his thumb, the lid making a crisp “click” sound, carrying the unique dullness of old metal.
Then his thumb gently rubbed the wheel, and a yellow flame suddenly shot up, filling the air with the unique slightly fishy smell of kerosene.
Mu Deyuan was stunned by Wu Chen’s words and his skilled lighting motion, then he chuckled, “You rascal…”
After speaking, he didn’t stand on ceremony, bit the Yuxi cigarette, brought the cigarette end close to the flame, took a light puff, and the orange fire instantly engulfed the tobacco, unhurriedly tucking the flattened cigarette box into his coat pocket, taking a deep drag, then exhaling a long plume of smoke, narrowing his eyes as he said:
“You’re quite skilled with the lighter, aren’t you?”
“Haha, my dad is also an old smoker, and when I was idle, I often played with lighters… But Teacher, you should smoke less of these cigarettes in the future, it’s bad for your health!”
Wu Chen laughed, sitting casually in the chair, not at all like a student meeting a teacher.
Mu Deyuan also felt a bit strange, because over the years, most Photography Department students who came to see him acted like typical students, mostly saying polite phrases like “Thank you, Teacher” or “Hello, Teacher.”
Students like Wu Chen were extremely rare.
The reason he paid attention to Wu Chen was because he saw a somewhat exaggerated photographic talent in him.
He paid attention to new students in the Photography Department every year, but he had only seen such outstanding talent in his former classmate, Zhang Yimou.
“Can’t quit!” Mu Deyuan shook his head, but his heart felt extremely warm at that moment.
“By the way, why do you want to see black mansion's ghost?”
