For Su Yan, even though the awards gala was tonight, there was no visible anxiety on his face.
Everyone in Xia Nation's television industry could already guess—with 60 to 70% certainty—that the Best New Screenwriter Award would go to him.
After all, throughout the past year, none of the new screenwriters in the country had particularly outstanding achievements.
If you had to pick someone else, it would be Kiyota Sanji, who had the second-best performance of the year.
But everyone knew how that turned out—'Pure Breeze' versus 'Rurouni Kenshin', and 'Night Sakura' versus 'An Ancient Love Song' were both overwhelming defeats.
If the Xia Flame Awards Committee were to hand the Best Screenwriter Award to Kiyota Sanji or anyone else, it would definitely cause an uproar.
As for Best New Actor and Best New Drama Soundtrack? Those were much more competitive.
But Su Yan was primarily a screenwriter; acting and music composition were just side pursuits. Whether he won those other two awards didn't concern him much—he was rather chill about it.
His main goal: take home the Best New Screenwriter Award first. Then, set his sights on winning Best Screenwriter of the Year. He wanted to become a legend among legends in the Xia Nation film and TV industry—start a company, make a fortune, accumulate emotional value, and produce all the works he dreamed of creating. He wanted to bring love and joy to the people of the Xia Nation.
That was Su Yan's plan for the next few years.
But Gu Qingyuan and Shinozaki Ikumi were clearly in a different mental state.
Gu Qingyuan may usually come off as cool and aloof, but that didn't mean she was emotionless. She had chosen to study acting and pursue this profession because she loved it.
And tonight, her parents and extended family were all waiting back home, watching, hoping to witness her win. The pressure on her was immense.
Shinozaki Ikumi, on the other hand, had been visibly anxious since the afternoon.
Her mother was a producer, and she had followed in her footsteps. There was no way she could stay calm about the most important award of a newcomer's career.
Of course, in terms of results, her drama 'An Ancient Love Song' had unquestionably been the best among all new producers.
Her nearest competitor's drama had only managed to rank 14th in its season at best.
But the problem was that her earlier drama from the first half of the year, 'Sakura Island Love Song', had performed terribly. She was worried that the committee might weigh that against her and instead hand the award to the runner-up.
That would be a nightmare she'd never want to remember for the rest of her life.
She'd be angry about it forever!
By 5 PM, the three of them had finished their styling in the production team's makeup room.
Shinozaki Ikumi wore a stunning red dress, revealing her slender, long legs. Her skin was as pale as snow, and her black, wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders. She looked striking and alluring.
Gu Qingyuan wore a black gown with minimal makeup, her beautiful features emanating a calm and frosty aura—like a real-life Yukishiro Tomoe in black.
As for Su Yan, he didn't skimp on his outfit either.
After all, he had been holed up working on scripts and various tasks, barely making public appearances. Millions of drama fans across Xia Nation were eagerly waiting to see his appearance tonight—he couldn't afford to look careless.
The three of them exchanged glances outside the makeup room. There was a flicker of mutual recognition in their eyes.
This was a meeting of high-level visuals—beauty recognizing beauty.
As they rode the crew's car into downtown Hudu City, right on schedule, the moment they stepped out of the vehicle—
They were instantly surrounded by photographers.
The dense flurry of flashes practically blinded Su Yan.
Especially as reporters kept throwing difficult questions at him.
"Su Yan-sensei, what do you say about the underwhelming online reception of 'To the Moon' after three weeks of airing? Your previous works, 'An Ancient Love Song' and 'Rurouni Kenshin' both scored 9.4 and 9.6 respectively, while 'To the Moon' is at just 8.3. Some critics say you've already run out of steam by your third drama. Any comment?"
"Let the bullets fly a bit longer. The results for 'To the Moon' will speak for themselves," Su Yan replied.
Though not used to press interviews, Su Yan deliberately slowed down on his way to the venue.
How could he miss out on such a free promo opportunity for his work?
"Su Yan-sensei, there are rumors online that you faced unfair treatment at Sakura TV and are planning to leave. Is that true?"
"Hahaha, you can't believe everything you read online. Most of it's half-true at best." Su Yan waved it off with a laugh.
So it's half-true, not completely false?
The reporters caught on immediately—this young screenwriter had a loose tongue. Saying it's "half-true" was practically inviting speculation.
Unfair treatment? Leaving Sakura TV? What part was true, and what part wasn't?
Shinozaki Ikumi's expression shifted slightly. She subtly tugged at Su Yan's sleeve.
Su Yan smiled in response, and she immediately understood what he meant.
You've already pissed off Akasaka Yoshitoki. What are you scared of? Saying a few words in his favor won't magically erase the conflict.
As long as he avoided giving a direct answer or causing actual reputational damage to the station, this ambiguous response wouldn't get him punished. On the contrary, the netizens might just pile more criticism on Akasaka Yoshitoki, who had been accused of suppressing talent.
After a few more questions for Su Yan, the reporters turned to Shinozaki Ikumi.
But the very first question made her face darken.
"Shinozaki-san, what do you think of the online speculation that you just got lucky and latched onto a genius screenwriter? Would 'Sakura Island Love Song' be the pinnacle of your producing career if you hadn't met Su Yan?"
"No comment." Shinozaki Ikumi replied coldly, then marched ahead, leading Su Yan and Gu Qingyuan into the venue.
"I swear, are these people even trained? Who says that kind of stuff? Latching on to someone? It's called collaborating with like-minded individuals!" she muttered as they walked.
Su Yan wisely stayed quiet on the topic.
But Gu Qingyuan, who had a pretty good relationship with Shinozaki Ikumi, spoke up bluntly.
"Don't worry about what the reporters say. If I hadn't acted in Su Yan-sensei's drama, I'd probably still be at home growing grapes. I was just lucky. But let's be honest—has anyone great in history ever been unlucky? Luck is a kind of skill. Don't downplay your own success as just luck. Luck is part of ability."
Shinozaki Ikumi gave her a side-eye.
What kind of encouragement is that? It sounds like you're telling me to just accept my fate as someone who latched onto him.
Gu Qingyuan, I didn't think you were such a salty fish.
But given Gu Qingyuan's slightly absent-minded personality, her words weren't enough to actually upset Shinozaki Ikumi.
Looking at Su Yan, who smiled without saying anything, she sighed internally.
Sure, I know the truth about my own career. But do you reporters have to say it to my face like that? Isn't that just awkward for everyone?
Once they arrived at the venue and took their assigned seats, all three of them were visibly excited.
Almost half of the Xia Nation's famous actors and directors from the past twenty years were present tonight.
Some were nominees; others were special guests.
Several directors and investors even handed Su Yan their business cards.
Even if he was affiliated with Sakura TV, he could still sell scripts to other studios.
Of course, that depended on 'To the Moon' performing well—he needed to prove he wasn't just a one-hit wonder.
But soon after they sat down, a noisy group filled the seats beside them.
Leading them was a tall, stern-looking middle-aged man.
Sitting next to him—none other than Su Yan's old "friend," Kiyota Sanji, and a few producers from Sakura TV.
Akasaka Yoshitoki turned his head and met Su Yan's gaze, his lips curling into a faint smile.
In moments like this, Su Yan and Shinozaki Ikumi—both still technically under the production department—should've at least greeted the acting head of the department.
With Yoshizaki Shigeyoshi on leave, Akasaka Yoshitoki was now in charge.
But neither of them moved. They simply turned their heads, pretending not to notice him.
Akasaka's breathing grew heavier, his fists clenched.
Soon after, the awards ceremony began.
It was broadcast live across the country.
Fans spotted Su Yan, Shinozaki Ikumi, and Gu Qingyuan through the TV cameras and immediately lit up the internet with their reactions.
As for the ceremony itself?
At least to Su Yan, it was… boring.
Winner after winner went on stage, thanking their parents, directors, significant others...
It was all cookie-cutter, and some even burst into tears.
Half an hour in, the Best New Actress award was announced.
When the host read out "Gu Qingyuan," fans of 'Rurouni Kenshin' and 'An Ancient Love Song' went wild.
Then came the Best New Screenwriter Award.
"Su Yan!"
He rose, walked down the aisle, passing the frustrated Kiyota Sanji and the coldly glaring Akasaka Yoshitoki.
"Some people make it here with sheer luck," Akasaka muttered just loud enough for Su Yan to hear. "But those people never get a second invitation."
It was their first face-to-face interaction—and the meaning behind the words was obvious.
Su Yan didn't break stride. He walked onto the stage, took the small trophy, and exchanged a few pleasantries with the host.
"Su Yan-sensei, you've won this award at such a young age. What are your career plans moving forward?"
Su Yan's expression shifted. Looking into the camera lens that was broadcasting live across the nation, he smiled.
"Before I came on stage, someone said I only got nominated for this award because of luck—and that I'd never make it back here again."
He paused and raised a finger.
"But the thing I love most in life is saying 'no' to those who think they know everything."
"So, next year at the Xia Flame Awards—I'll be back!" he said with a grin.
The audience of industry veterans chuckled, chalking it up to youthful confidence.
Su Yan's fans watching from home were all like, "Obviously!"
Rival screenwriters and haters, though, were already mentally drafting scathing critiques of this so-called prodigy.
But Akasaka Yoshitoki's face turned stormy.
He hadn't expected Su Yan to respond so directly—and so boldly.
"Saying 'no' to those who think they know everything"? How arrogant!
Who's the arrogant one here, really?
The other Sakura TV producers nearby, who had overheard Akasaka's earlier jab, were holding back laughter.
This kid really has guts.
Gu Qingyuan and Shinozaki Ikumi outright laughed aloud.
Two hours later, the Xia Flame Awards wrapped up.
Best New Screenwriter.
Best New Producer.
Best New Actress.
Of five total nominations, Su Yan, Shinozaki Ikumi, and Gu Qingyuan each took home one award.
Feeling satisfied, Shinozaki Ikumi treated them to drinks. The three of them enjoyed a rare night out together.
The next day, they snapped back to work mode.
Winning was already yesterday's news. Now, it was time to focus on shooting 'To the Moon'.
Soon, Saturday night arrived—the broadcast of Episode 4.
