After the Galaxy Awards ceremony, Fang Zhao's popularity soared once again. Media outlets, both official and unofficial, showered him with praise.
In the entertainment industry, whenever a big name was mentioned, the media would always be full of haters. But this time, they were all saying the same thing.
Why?
The situation was different. Bickering depended on the situation and the person. They weren't stupid enough to bicker over this. Whether or not Fang Zhao had been lucky enough to crack the Hull virus cure, the results were right in front of them. The government had already stamped their stamp of approval and given the award. Even if they wanted to bicker, now wasn't the time. There would be plenty of opportunities in the future. Who knew, maybe they would be able to catch Fang Zhao in the act.
While Fang Zhao was gaining momentum, the director of the Hull virus documentary decided to ride on the wave. Official media outlets from every continent would help them promote the documentary. There was a lot of news out there, but people who actually watched the documentary were few and far between.
In this situation, Fang Zhao meant traffic and would attract even more viewers.
To let more people know about their documentary, the director had a short film produced to promote it. He even made it clear that the background music was composed by Fang Zhao and was a gift from him to the program team.
Nanfeng wasn't happy when he found out about this.
"So even a high-profile program team like this would resort to such tactics. Isn't that a little sleazy..."
Nanfeng tattled on the program team to Fang Zhao.
But as far as Fang Zhao was concerned, as long as their intentions were good, he didn't care about the director and the program team's petty tricks.
Fang Zhao was happy to let more people understand this illness and understand the strong and resilient people behind the sufferers.
The first thing the production team released was a three-minute promotional video.
The oppressive music was heavy and melancholic.
A somber atmosphere permeated the dark night. It was as if the world had fallen asleep.
Hull virus patients were a bunch of people whose minds were far from home. They were unable to express their emotions or sense the world around them. Naturally, they didn't feel sad or pained. What hurt was their loved ones.
To the loved ones of Hull virus patients, the world was a hostile place, but they had no choice but to face it.
They chose to give up on their original plans for life, just like Ming Cang and his wife had. For the sake of their infected child, they gave up their chances for advancement and a bright future to seek treatment. Or they stayed put and waited for the day Lady Luck arrived.
But how long would it take for that day to arrive?
No one knew.
Perhaps it would be fine tomorrow, or perhaps it wouldn't happen in a lifetime.
People were not afraid of hardships. What they were afraid of was not knowing if they had the courage and if they were strong enough.
The man squatting at the corner of the street, smoking, looked at the photo of his five-year-old daughter, who had hollow eyes. He pulled his collar to cover his lips that had turned blue from the cold. He got up, curled up his shivering body in the cold wind, and continued to work hard to manage his life.
Late at night, after socializing, the middle-aged man vomited drunkenly. When he returned home and saw his emotionless child, his shoulders slumped again. He rushed into the bathroom and splashed himself with cold water. His bloodshot eyes stared fixedly at himself in the mirror. How long can you endure such days?
Sitting on the swing in the park in loneliness, the mother's eyes gradually turned red as she watched the children of other families running and laughing. She patted her long skirt and climbed to the railing of the tall building, but her eyes were full of hesitation.
A white-haired old couple pushed a young man out of the hospital and walked home along the desolate street.
…
Not everyone had the same conditions as Ming Cang and his wife. There were far too many people who were stifled by the cruel reality and the hardships of life. To them, the world was evil. Fate was filled with setbacks, tribulations, pain, and despair. At some point, they wanted to give up and put an end to it all.
"People spend their entire lives waiting. Everyone is waiting for something important, something meaningful. It could be a person, a word, a belief, an opportunity..."
"We were prepared to spend our entire lives waiting."
"Luckily, luck was on our side this time. We waited!"
A letter from the research center informed them that there had been a breakthrough in the Hull virus research. They could apply to have their family's patients participate in the clinical trial.
Three years ago, the four movements of the "100-Year Period of Destruction" series were released. They became the most important and crucial stepping stone to curing the Hull virus.
At the time, many corners of the world had changed. But the world was too big. Coupled with the secrecy surrounding the research, the news was suppressed. People stopped paying attention and quickly forgot about it.
But unbeknownst to everyone, Fang Zhao's "stepping stone" was changing families and a group of people.
Three years of treatment had changed too much.
People who used to huddle on street corners and smoke now ran to the mountaintops to wait for the sun to rise. They watched as it rose and its rays bathed the land, welcoming another morning filled with hope.
A gray-haired old man took his hands out of his wrinkled pockets. As he walked, he smiled. Tomorrow would be even better.
It was the persistence, persistence, and responsibility that had never given up that gave them hope.
The seemingly simple notes that flowed out of the promotional video gave people a sense of brightness. It was as if a dark and gray world was gradually gaining color and strength. Layers upon layers of music rippled in a leisurely manner.
After countless sleepless nights, the lives of the patients' relatives were finally brighter, more relaxed, and carefree.
Those infected with the Hull virus were lucky enough to find a cure. Regardless of their age, they were like newborns who could finally perceive the world and vent their emotions. They had yet to truly understand life. They had yet to experience all the joys and sufferings of life.
Then, in the days to come, they would grow, become determined, and learn to endure. Perhaps they would choose the most difficult path when they were at their most lost, but at least their lives would be rich and colorful.
The music notes swirled in the air like specks of light in the darkness, rising from the depths of the ocean and rising to the surface with the sun.
Fang Zhao hoped that the infected who had been given the chance to return to the world would be grateful and grateful. They would not lose themselves and would not fall.
Fish leaped into the deep sea. Eagles soared in the sky. Fang Zhao hoped that they would bravely face the unknown.
There were too many things that scientific researchers and medical personnel wanted to say. Fang Zhao used music notes to convey them.
Musicians who had reached a certain level might not fully understand what the composer was trying to convey, but they could at least get the gist of it. That was why Old Jo had been able to tell that the score was for the documentary the moment he had received it.
But for most people, they might not understand what the music was trying to convey, and they had no interest in delving deeper into it. The name "Fang Zhao" was eye-catching enough.
Thus, after the director released the promotional video with Fang Zhao's name, it attracted a lot of attention.
At the same time, in a room just a wall away from Fang Zhao's dormitory, Will submitted an application for seclusion. He was going into seclusion for a week to focus on painting. He wouldn't be attending classes for the following week.
The instructors were all happy to oblige.
Having inspiration, a train of thought, and the confidence to go into seclusion to paint was a good thing. This proved that this famous artist had improved again during his time in the advanced course!
The instructors of the advanced course were all people with high statuses in the industry. At their level, apart from their own achievements, the competition between them was also based on their students.
If their students produced outstanding works during the course, they would also be proud.
One of Will's instructors, an old HuangArt professor with great prestige, contacted him as soon as he received the application.
"Will, are you going into seclusion?"
"Yes, to achieve my short-term goal."
The old professor paused. Will's study plan seemed to have been written down. Who was he going to paint?
Without much time to think, the old professor asked with concern, "Is it difficult? Will, don't keep it to yourself if you encounter an unsolvable problem. We can discuss it and find a solution. "
"It's already been resolved," Will replied.
"That's good, that's good."
After the call, the old professor hurriedly flipped through Will's study plan. He was getting on in years, and his memory wasn't very good. He couldn't remember much about anything other than his own paintings.
But when he saw the words "My short-term goal: to paint Fang Zhao," he couldn't help but feel a headache coming on.
He had heard the name Fang Zhao so much that he had grown calluses. A few old guys from the music department had started showing off in front of him again.
"There are so many talented people with complicated backgrounds in art. Why Fang Zhao of all people?"
Because Fang Zhao was a celebrity? Because he had high commercial value?
No, Will wasn't that shallow.
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