Superstars of Tomorrow
chapter-369

Chapter 369: "High-Class Face"

Translator: Min_Lee Editor: Tennesh

After the “Golden Series Gala,” there was saturation coverage and nonstop discussion of the event. The name “Fang Zhao” once again dominated entertainment headlines on all continents. Fang Zhao didn’t win best actor, but he was without a doubt the biggest winner of the gala.

If one looked at the stats across the board, one would realize that every time Fang Zhao became a hot topic, in addition to the entertainment industry, his name would also show up in gaming, music and even to a lesser extent military and medical headlines, sectors that had nothing to do with the entertainment industry. Also, world-renowned modeling agencies started eyeing him as a potential signee.

During Fang Zhao’s red carpet walk, the photographers positioned on both flanks had shivered like crazy. Even though they had taken countless pictures, none of the pictures had been satisfactory on second glance. Their line of sight had been slightly off. All the photographers had been able to do was file the best among the batch. The shooters, however, were still upset.

Then they watched video footage of the red carpet. The photographers mourned: What a waste of talent! This fella is clearly model material. How come his label doesn’t position him as such?

The photographers had their own aesthetic standards. Faces that struck many as pretty or handsome didn’t interest them. Of course, besides looks, one’s presence also came into play, as well as one’s ability to create a unique aesthetic before the camera.

Footage of Fang Zhao and Anna walking the red carpet spread quickly on the internet.

The entertainment journalists couldn’t necessarily grasp the criteria for a “high-class face,” but they knew that celebrities the photographers preferred were definitely “high class.” Fang Zhao’s face was considered average in an industry overflowing with handsome men and gorgeous women, but overnight, entertainment journalists deemed it a “high-class face.”

Many photographers who shot the “Golden Series Gala” took an interest in Fang Zhao, going so far as reaching out to Silver Wing and asking to shoot him again.

Silver Wing’s response:

“Oh, Fang Zhao? We don’t have any control over him. He signed to the label as a composer, not as an actor or model. But our company has a deep roster of very talented actors and models. If you can’t land Fang Zhao, why don’t you try them instead? They received the same training as Fang Zhao.”

Most photographers didn’t bother to follow up. They had seen their share of run-of-the-mill celebs. They were a dime a dozen. They only wanted Fang Zhao.

But a small minority of photographers did take Silver Wing up on their offer.

When a Silver Wing spokesman was asked about Fang Zhao at a news conference, he simply smiled.

You want me to address an issue the entire company is clueless about?

On the topic of Fang Zhao, Silver Wing started treading more and more lightly. All they could do was appease Fang Zhao to the best of their ability. Beyond that, things were out of their control.

Apart from the fact that the photographers expressed keen interest in Fang Zhao, Anna referring to Fang Zhao as a “junior disciple” also sparked heated discussion.

Before the red carpet, Anna had been thinking that she was doing her junior a favor.

In reality, she had ended up riding on Fang Zhao’s coattails.

Sure, jealousy was at play here, but Anna didn’t go so far as hating Fang Zhao. He was a junior disciple, after all—and one with crazy potential at that, someone Mo Lang saw huge promise in. Who knows, she might need a favor from this junior disciple down the road. It made sense to stay in Fang Zhao’s good graces now.

After Anna let word of Fang Zhao’s new loyalties slip, Prof. Carter from HuangArt announced that Fang Zhao would be studying under him. Mo Lang also openly praised Fang Zhao.

Industry insiders instantly knew what was going on. This was a disciple accepted with Mo Lang’s blessing. Mo Lang had brought Fang Zhao under his wing. No wonder Fang Zhao—and not someone else—had accepted the Best Original Score Award at the “Golden Series Gala” on Mo Lang’s behalf. To have the backing of a master artist like Mo Lang, who was a national treasure… Fang Zhao’s career was bound to be much smoother.

Still, Mo Lang was very concerned. Fang Zhao was all over the entertainment headlines, which generated offers of acting and modeling gigs. There were also news items that were completely blown out of proportion. Mo Lang was worried that, if events continued down this path, Fang Zhao would let the hype get to his head.

After pondering the matter, Mo Lang reached out to Prof. Carter.

“Once Fang Zhao gets home, bring him along on your next project. He must be isolated! He has to be insulated from these temptations immediately.”

Carter nodded in agreement. “Got it. And what about Fang Zhao’s theoretical training?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Carter: “…” He is my disciple, after all.

After the “Golden Series Gala” for TV, it was time for the “Golden Film Gala” for movies.

For visitors to the Corale archipelago, if the “Golden Series Gala” was a terrestrial party, then the “Golden Film Gala” was a festival at sea. The “Golden Film Gala” was held in a palatial structure on the coast, coupled with a visual extravaganza of torches and lights. The combination of the seaside setting and the dreamy lights made for a decidedly different backdrop than the venue for the “Golden Series Gala.”

Celebrities who hadn’t stolen the limelight during the “Golden Series Gala” eyed the “Golden Film Gala” hungrily. The past two years had been owned by “Founding Era.” This blockbuster project had attracted 70 percent of the world’s best-known actors and celebrities. Thus, the lineup for the “Golden Film Gala” was much weaker in comparison. Still, as far as celebrities were concerned, there was no such thing as too much exposure. There would not be a shortage of bodies on the red carpet or a dearth of photos and news.

Entertainment journalists from all over the world were eagerly anticipating another shot at Fang Zhao. Who knows, maybe they could land a scoop about this “high-class face” that was the talk of the town.

The photographers shooting the “Golden Film Gala” also came prepared. Some of them staked out positions in advance, with an eye toward taking the perfect picture this time around. Even though they found out that Fang Zhao wasn’t on the list of red-carpet guests, they wanted to try to shoot him elsewhere. There were locations where guest celebrities could pose inside the venue.

Yet, ultimately, everyone realized that Fang Zhao was nowhere to be found again.

Because he hadn’t appeared in any movies and he wasn’t planning a career in film, Fang Zhao had given away his tickets for the “Golden Film Gala” to other Silver Wing artists. He had other plans.

On the evening of the “Golden Film Gala,” another celebration for locals took place on one of Corale’s outlying islands.

Fang Zhao skipped the “Golden Film Gala” so he could head to the lighthouse with Tan Min.

“Today is a special day of remembrance for the Corale archipelago. It just so happens that the ‘Golden Film Gala’ and the Lighthouse Festival fell on the same day this year. Look, there are locals celebrating near the lighthouse.” Even though Tan Min wanted to show his face at the “Golden Film Gala,” compare notes with other filmmakers, and network, as a local, the Lighthouse Festival had more sentimental value. Forced to choose between the two, he had picked the latter.

As for Fang Zhao, Tan Min had brought up the festival to his friend to float the idea. He never thought that Fang Zhao would actually join him.

There were too many locals gathered near the lighthouse. It was impossible for Fang Zhao to get close. Instead, he settled for a few spots that Tan Min had recommended.

The mood stood in stark contrast to the glamor of the “Golden Film Gala.”

Its top bulb shining bright, the lighthouse projected a historical aura accumulated over time. Waves lapped at the reefs lining the coast, creating intermittent splashes. The moist sea breeze carried the fragrance of wine. Festive crowds were everywhere.

Local traditional drums were sounded consistently, evoking the vitality of the region. Dancers raised their heads, their eyes beaming with wonder.

The waves, the reefs, the lighthouse—everything blended perfectly to create an intoxicating atmosphere.

Tan Min gazed at the lighthouse with a smile and told Fang Zhao, “After ‘Founding Era’ aired, lots of foreigners started saying that Huangzhou residents aren’t religious. I disagree. I’m not sure about other parts of Huangzhou, but in Corale, this is our religion.”

Even though the lighthouse had been destroyed during the Period of Destruction and rebuilt during the New Era, as far as Corale natives were concerned, the spirit of the lighthouse had always been there.

The towering lighthouse was a symbol of hope.

Fang Zhao started drumming on his knees with his fingers. After a while, he pulled out a notebook from his backpack and started jotting away.

Tan Min was filming. He spotted a few pretty girls who were dancing nearby, smiled mischievously, and geared up to tell Fang Zhao, “Hey, those girls are decent,” but when he turned his head, he saw Fang Zhao pull out a notebook and scribble away.

Tan Min held back and engaged in a bit of reflection.

As a working artist, I’m not focused enough! Indeed, success doesn’t happen by chance. Look at Fang Zhao and how focused he is, whether he’s writing a paper or composing. That’s a mindset worth imitating.

With Fang Zhao as an example, Tan Min quickly corrected himself. I’m a director who dreams big, an artist with ambition! If Fang Zhao records his insight with a pen, then I’ll use my camera. It will pay off one day. I gotta have faith that I will become a world-class director one day!

At the stroke of midnight, the lighthouse shined its spotlight on the horizon.

A neighboring ship sounded its horn. The deep, melancholic sound resembled a tribute to the lighthouse from the past.

For Corale residents, this was the most sacred of responses. The festival was incomplete without the sounding of a foghorn.

As the crowds dispersed, Fang Zhao jotted down his final note and closed his notebook. He had accomplished a great deal during his trip. Apart from his paper, he had also composed quite a bit. When he added the finishing touches to the two songs he had started, Fang Zhao was going to add them to the rundown for his graduation concert at HuangArt.

By the time Fang Zhao reached his hotel, folks who had attended the “Golden Film Gala” were also filing in. Some of the artists who spotted Fang Zhao wondered, Where did this fella come from? I didn’t see him at the awards ceremony tonight.

Ignoring the curious gazes, Fang Zhao completed the piece he had started earlier in the evening. After tweaking it some more, he decided to check the surveillance feed for his HuangArt dorm room.

Curly Hair was gaming again, his tail wagging vigorously.

Fang Zhao had little downtime during his stay in Corale. And yet:

When Fang Zhao was busy writing papers and composing, Curly Hair was gaming.

When Fang Zhao was attending various events, Curly Hair was sleeping.

When Fang Zhao was fasting for the “Golden Series Gala,” Curly Hair was indulging his voracious appetite.

The contrast made Fang Zhao feel that dogs had better lives than humans.