bioinnovel On the podium in Chapter 342, Lin Zhou only said one sentence.
On the podium in Chapter 342, Lin Zhou only said one sentence.
Beneath the dome of the Dolby Theatre in Los Angeles, the brilliant lights are at an almost frozen frequency.
Lin Zhou stood in the center of the stage.
Before him, on the dark red solid wood lectern, stood eight heavy little golden statues side by side.
These totems, representing the highest honor in the global film and television industry, refract an almost sacred golden light under the cool-toned spotlight.
The ten thousand world-class celebrities in the audience were all breathing very slowly at this moment.
They looked up.
Looking at the man with black hair and deep eyes.
Unlike the other award winners, he did not show even the slightest bit of unease or elation.
Instead, Lin Zhou simply extended his hand calmly.
His slender fingertips gently glided over the top of the row of trophies.
The gesture didn't resemble stroking a medal; it was more like a lord inspecting his territory.
In the first row of the audience, several top Hollywood godfathers had complex expressions.
They were once the rule-makers.
But now.
This man, with a miracle of Eastern narrative, shattered the logical barriers they had built up over a century.
Lin Zhou's arrogance and restraint are both deeply ingrained.
This sent a chill down the spines of these self-proclaimed gentlemen and high-class individuals, a feeling they had never experienced before.
This sense of pressure.
It wasn't based on his net worth, nor on those Oscars.
Rather, it is the kind of supreme aura that comes from having experienced bloodshed and power struggles, and standing at the pinnacle of world finance, looking down upon all living beings.
Lin Zhou glanced down at the English speech prepared by the official secretariat of the Oscars.
Black and white on white paper.
It is piled with flowery language and standard humble expressions.
He twitched the corners of his mouth, revealing a roguish, cold smile.
Then.
Under the watchful eyes of cameras worldwide.
Lin Zhou extended two fingers and pinched the speech manuscript between them.
tear.
He tore it to pieces without any expression.
Tiny scraps of paper slid down the edge of the podium, like a silent and arrogant mockery.
"Oh my God..."
A veteran actress in the seat in front of her covered her mouth, her peach blossom eyes filled with astonishment.
"Is he crazy? That's an official speech."
The director next to him stared intently at Lin Zhou, his voice hoarse.
"No, he's not crazy. On this stage, he's the only rule."
Lin Zhou adjusted the microphone.
He didn't even touch the translator headset that represented the "universal language".
He raised his hand.
He pressed down slightly with his palm facing down.
With this simple action, the theater, which had been filled with whispers, fell into dead silence.
That unwavering sense of obedience, so strictly enforced, was surprisingly present in this group of artists who valued individuality above all else.
Lin Zhou's gaze went past the camera lens.
It was as if he was looking through the screen at his homeland, far away across the ocean.
He looked at those petty scoundrels who had once regarded him as an outcast, but now knelt down and looked up to him.
He cleared his throat.
His voice was deep and magnetic, possessing an undeniable magnetic quality.
While all the foreigners held their breath, waiting for him to say that standard "Thank you".
Lin Zhou spoke.
Every word he uttered.
They are all the purest, most vigorous, and most powerful square characters.
That is Chinese, which spans five thousand years of history and carries the weight of a profound civilization.
"Chinese-language films have never needed to be defined by anyone."
Lin Zhou's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a powerful penetrating force.
"On this planet, only we can tell this story about home and sacrifice."
The celebrities in the audience, who were used to an English-speaking environment, initially showed a brief moment of confusion.
They looked at each other, feeling a kind of physiological anxiety because they couldn't understand.
But then...
When Lin Zhou's sharp, knife-like gaze swept across the entire room.
This confusion turned into extreme shock.
They don't need a translator.
Because of the arrogant and domineering tone in Lin Zhou's voice.
That kind of cultural confidence that belongs to a great Eastern power.
It is no longer necessary to transmit information through a dictionary.
That was a kind of dimensional reduction attack on civilization by civilization.
Lin Zhou didn't waste any more words.
He turned around.
With my back to the flashing shutters.
With his back to those eight golden statuettes that could drive anyone crazy.
He was facing the camera.
He uttered only one last sentence under the gaze of billions of viewers worldwide.
"Do you want to understand what I'm saying?"
A cynical smile played on Lin Zhou's lips.
"Then let's learn Chinese well first."
After saying that, he deftly picked up one of the trophies.
He didn't even look at the organizing committee members below the stage.
Amidst the stunned gazes of all the celebrities in the audience, he took Su Qingge's hand from below the stage.
Under the dazzling spotlight, the two figures left behind an arrogant and upright silhouette.
Su Qingge looked up at him, her eyes sparkling.
Meanwhile, Nuonuo, nestled in Lin Zhou's arms, raised her little hand and called out to the camera in a sweet, childlike voice:
"Dad is awesome!"
"Mr. Lin, wait! The group photo session is coming up..."
Old Chen responded nimbly from below the stage.
"Why take a picture? Let them know I'm going home to take care of the kids."
Lin Zhou carried Nuonuo and walked backstage without looking back.
Inside the Dolby Theatre, the Hollywood bigwigs were left standing there, bewildered.
On the internet.
Discussion about this Chinese address.
Just like a raging hurricane, sweeping across the globe.
As Su Qingge walked down the narrow backstage corridor, she couldn't help but laugh and bump into Lin Zhou's shoulder.
"Mr. Lin, you were really... incredibly arrogant just now."
"Is he crazy?"
Lin Zhou handed the trophy to Nuonuo as a toy, looking at his wife with tender eyes.
"I just feel that speaking English in a place like this is really not in keeping with the style of that movie."
After hearing this, Su Qingge stood on tiptoe.
She naturally placed a kiss on Lin Zhou's cheek.
"Okay, I'll do as you say. Let's go home."
"Grandpa Chen, I want to eat braised pork!"
Nuonuo excitedly called out in Lin Zhou's arms.
"Alright, Miss, everything is ready on the plane!"
Old Chen replied with a smile.