Berlin and a Chance Encounter

Europe had many international metropolises, such as Paris, London, and Milan, each with its own flamboyance and distinctive style. As the capital of a long-established European nation, Berlin seemed unusually low-key.

Berlin was located in northeastern Germany and currently had a population of fewer than four million. It had previously been the capital of East Germany.

Even though East and West Germany had been reunited for many years, Berlin still retained its distinctive character—poor but sexy.

The Berlin International Film Festival was much the same. It seemed to have the lowest standing among Europe's three major film festivals, yet it had always held fast to its own distinctive character—stubbornly niche art.

Each of the three major film festivals had its own preferences. Cannes was relatively inclusive, favoring a combination of art and commerce. It was a stage for masters and had the largest film market in all of Europe.

Berlin paid more attention to politics and society, earning it the nickname "political reeducation camp." Its film market was also much smaller.

Venice liked films shot in novel forms and with distinctive techniques. It had a particular fondness for art films that ordinary people couldn't understand, earning it the nickname "avant-garde film tea party."

In previous years, the Berlin International Film Festival had fully embraced a niche, artistic film direction. This attitude of completely abandoning Hollywood and making it clear it wouldn't play with them had also left the long-established festival with less and less exposure and commercial appeal. Its influence was far less than before.

However, the festival's new director, Kosslick, had been working to increase its influence. He believed that only greater attention could preserve the Berlin International Film Festival's standing as one of Europe's big three, and for the past two years he had been making a major effort to invite Hollywood stars to attend.

Not many people from the Buried Alive team had come this time: director Wei Jin, producer Jiang Wei, cinematographer Ning Hao, lead actor Qin Hao, and Chen Zhiming, general manager of Wei Jin Fengliu Studio.

Zeng Li had to stay home with her mother through the New Year, so unfortunately she couldn't come along.

After a long eleven-hour flight, the plane carrying Wei Jin and the others landed smoothly at Tegel Airport.

It was a little after four in the afternoon in Berlin, and the airport was fairly crowded and noisy.

After leaving the hall, Wei Jin and his group, carrying their luggage and the film print, quickly spotted a sign reading "Chinese director Wei Jin," along with the staff member beneath it who had come to pick them up.

His name was Fischer, one of the festival staff and one of the people assigned to pick up directors whose films had been shortlisted for the main competition.

The Berlin International Film Festival was divided into the main competition, Encounters, the short film competition, Panorama, special screenings, and other sections.

The main competition carried the most weight, and Buried Alive had been shortlisted for it this time.

For filmmakers, one of the highest honors at a film festival was to have the festival director personally meet them at the airport.

At present, though, only two or three directors back home received that treatment. Wei Jin wasn't at that level yet and still had work to do.

Moreover, internationally renowned directors received top-level treatment from the organizers for their travel and everything else, such as first-class flights and five-star hotels.

Other directors received much less. The hierarchy was clear, and it was very snobbish.

Berlin was rather gloomy that day. When the group left the airport, it felt as though they had entered a dark hell. There wasn't a ray of sunshine, and it was even colder here than in Beijing, with a biting wind that made them uncomfortable.

After getting into the car, they headed straight for the hotel. Outside the windows stood marble buildings with simple lines and square, orderly modern structures of steel and concrete. Cold yet arranged in a pleasing pattern, they were full of an austere precision.

They soon arrived at the officially designated hotel. Since Wei Jin had been shortlisted for the main competition, all his expenses for attending the festival could be reimbursed.

His accommodation had already been arranged at the official hotel, but the production had to pay for everyone else.

Chen Zhiming had already booked rooms for the others at a hotel not far from the official one.

When Wei Jin reached his room, he looked it over. It was pretty good, about forty square meters, and decorated in a simple yet elegant style. He was fairly satisfied. After briefly unpacking, he rested for a while to adjust to the time difference.

After dinner that evening, everyone made their own plans. As the producer, Jiang Wei had to go meet with film distributors;

Chen Zhiming planned to scout for information and find out what each of the judges in this year's main competition liked, to make the subsequent public relations work easier;

Wei Jin, Ning Hao, and Qin Hao had nothing to do and planned to look around, but the three disagreed over where to go.

Ning Hao was very interested in Berlin's historic buildings, Qin Hao wanted to see some of Berlin's natural scenery, while Wei Jin was interested in its local character. The three promptly decided to explore on their own.

Wei Jin walked alone into the cold wind near Potsdamer Platz, a highly multifunctional central business district centered on offices and combining various features such as culture and entertainment. It was somewhat similar to Oriental Plaza in Beijing.

The famous Sony Center, Daimler City, and Berlin railway station were also nearby. Almost all of Berlin's high-rises were concentrated here.

After wandering around, Wei Jin came to a quiet bar. It had a very retro decor, but the patrons were mostly foreigners, with hardly any Asians in sight. Everyone was drinking and chatting in their booths.

He casually ordered a cocktail and listened as violin music began to play softly, enjoying the foreign atmosphere.

Just as Wei Jin was resting with his eyes closed, a commotion came from the bar. He looked up and saw two white men hitting on a woman, apparently having been rejected.

Wei Jin hadn't intended to pay attention to the commotion, but the two white men refused to give up, drawing an angry shout from the woman:

"Get lost, you stinking men..."

The two white men looked a little embarrassed and began cursing before walking away. After all, she wasn't the only person they could hit on.

Wei Jin, however, was a little curious. Glass in hand, he headed toward the bar. Perhaps he could have a romantic encounter?

As he approached and got a closer look, the woman's figure seen from behind was indeed alluring. No wonder those two foreigners had kept pestering her.

"Hello, may I sit here?"

"Stinking men, all of you get lost..."

The woman's voice was somewhat drunken. It was hard to say why she resented men so much.

Noticing that the man beside her hadn't left but had instead sat down, the woman raised her head, intending to teach this man hitting on her a lesson.

"Little Wei?"

"Sister Yuanyuan?"

Two equally surprised voices rang out. They looked at each other, both finding it a little hard to believe.

As the saying went, meeting an old acquaintance in a distant land, the two soon began chatting. Before they knew it, more and more bottles had accumulated on the table.

Wei Jin also learned that Gao Yuanyuan had come abroad to clear her head because she was trying to escape Zhang Yadong's pestering.

Gao Yuanyuan couldn't hold her liquor, though, and it wasn't long before she passed out. Wei Jin was a little speechless. His prey was an acquaintance, so it wouldn't be easy to make a move.

Watching the drunken Gao Yuanyuan lying spread-eagled on his bed, Wei Jin felt it was a little strange. This was the second time the woman had gotten drunk in front of him. Did she trust his character that much?

Wei Jin sighed and filled a glass with hot water, placing it by the bed. Just as he was about to leave, Gao Yuanyuan grabbed him.

"Don't go. Don't leave me."

Hearing that, Wei Jin had no choice but to sit half on the edge of the bed and gently comfort her. "All right, I won't go, Sister Yuanyuan."

Earlier, while Wei Jin was helping Gao Yuanyuan along, the cold wind had actually sobered her up a little. She simply had no strength, so she had leaned against the man's embrace.

But she hadn't expected Wei Jin to bring her straight back to the hotel. Now the alcohol had gone to her head, and she was a little shy, but her body's instincts were stirring.