Among Europe's great cities, Venice had always been something of an exception.
People often mentioned it alongside famous international capitals such as Paris, London, and Milan, yet anyone who had truly visited Venice understood that it possessed an atmosphere completely unlike any of them.
Paris dazzled with fashion.
London thrived with finance and power.
Milan radiated luxury and modern style.
Venice, however, seemed to belong to another era entirely.
Built upon a vast lagoon and connected by countless waterways, the ancient city carried an almost dreamlike quality. Time appeared to move slower there. The sounds of engines and traffic that filled most modern cities seemed distant and muted, replaced by the gentle movement of water beneath stone bridges and centuries-old buildings.
Once, Venice had ruled a powerful maritime republic whose influence stretched across the Mediterranean.
Now, despite remaining one of the world's most famous tourist destinations, its permanent population had dwindled to fewer than fifty thousand residents.
Every year, millions of tourists flooded into the city.
Every year, more locals chose to leave.
Yet despite these challenges, Venice stubbornly preserved its unique charm.
The weathered architecture.
The winding canals.
The rich artistic heritage.
Everything combined to create a city that felt suspended between history and reality.
In many ways, the Venice Film Festival shared the same personality.
As the oldest film festival in the world, it occupied a special position among the prestigious Venice Film Festival, Cannes Film Festival, and Berlin International Film Festival.
These three festivals formed Europe's legendary "Big Three."
Yet each possessed a completely different philosophy.
Cannes balanced artistic achievement with commercial appeal.
It was simultaneously a gathering place for filmmaking masters and one of the largest film trading markets in Europe.
Berlin focused heavily on social issues and political themes.
Many industry professionals jokingly referred to it as a political classroom disguised as a film festival.
Venice was different.
Venice loved experimentation.
It adored unconventional storytelling.
It celebrated directors willing to challenge traditional filmmaking techniques.
Auteur cinema.
Artistic exploration.
Humanistic narratives.
These were the kinds of works that repeatedly found favor with Venice juries.
Because of this, the festival gradually earned a reputation among filmmakers as an avant-garde gathering where artistic expression often mattered more than commercial success.
And that was precisely why Luo Zheng possessed such confidence in Getting Home.
A humanistic road film centered on ordinary people.
A story filled with emotional depth rather than spectacle.
A film focused on life itself.
The project fit Venice's preferences almost perfectly.
In recent years, the festival had become even more devoted to artistic purity.
While that strengthened its prestige among critics and filmmakers, it also created certain problems.
Its influence among mainstream audiences gradually weakened.
Commercial vitality declined.
Media attention was no longer as overwhelming as it had once been.
Many people within the industry believed Venice had become increasingly isolated from the broader film market.
An ivory tower admired by artists but ignored by the public.
Fortunately, changes were already underway.
Under the leadership of festival organizers determined to restore Venice's influence, efforts had been made to attract directors and actors capable of bridging the gap between artistic credibility and popular appeal.
This year's lineup reflected that strategy perfectly.
Prestigious independent films.
Acclaimed directors.
Recognizable international stars.
The organizers hoped to preserve artistic standards while simultaneously drawing broader public attention.
For filmmakers attending the festival, it represented a rare opportunity.
For Luo Zheng, it represented something even more important.
A chance to establish himself as a serious director on the international stage.
The Getting Home delegation was relatively small.
Unlike major Hollywood productions that arrived with dozens of actors, producers, assistants, publicists, and executives, Luo Zheng preferred efficiency.
The core team consisted of only a few important members.
Luo Zheng himself.
Lead actor Zhao Benshan.
Lead actress Song Dandan.
Producer Chen Guofu.
Along with Gao Yuanyuan, several assistants, and a security team, the entire delegation numbered little more than a dozen people.
After enduring a flight that lasted over ten hours, their aircraft finally descended toward Venice Marco Polo Airport.
The moment they exited the arrival area, they discovered that the festival organizers had already arranged a welcome.
Waiting there personally was a member of the Venice jury.
The gesture immediately demonstrated the importance the organizers attached to Luo Zheng.
Ordinary directors would never receive such treatment.
In fact, under normal circumstances, even this level of reception might have been considered excessive.
Had it not been for concerns about maintaining impartiality and avoiding unnecessary speculation, some festival officials might have arranged an even grander welcome.
After all, Luo Zheng's name had recently become impossible to ignore in Hollywood.
Marvel's rapid rise.
The success of multiple projects.
His increasingly influential position within the entertainment industry.
All of it had significantly raised his international profile.
The day before departing for Venice, Gong Li had even called him personally.
The conversation had lasted quite a while.
Most of it revolved around the upcoming festival.
She reminded him not to overthink the reception arrangements and explained that maintaining appearances was necessary during award season.
Luo Zheng naturally understood.
He had no interest in meaningless formalities.
However, during the conversation, Gong Li had once again subtly brought up the issue of Hero's overseas rights.
Luo Zheng immediately changed the subject.
His reasoning was simple.
Right now, his entire focus was on Venice.
Everything else could wait until after the festival.
Although Gong Li sounded somewhat disappointed, she couldn't argue with such an explanation.
The Venice Film Festival was clearly the bigger priority.
In the end, she could only reluctantly drop the topic.
The accommodations arranged by the festival were equally revealing.
A luxury hotel located near the main venue had been reserved for Luo Zheng's group.
The moment they checked in, the difference in treatment became obvious.
Many filmmakers had to stay in ordinary hotels farther away.
Some independent directors were even sharing accommodations to reduce expenses.
Meanwhile, Luo Zheng's delegation occupied one of the most desirable locations available.
The reality of international film festivals was far less romantic than many imagined.
Hierarchy existed everywhere.
Status mattered.
Influence mattered.
Connections mattered.
The entertainment industry was never truly equal.
The Venice Film Festival was no exception.
Some guests walked through front entrances.
Others entered through side doors.
Some names appeared prominently in official schedules.
Others were barely mentioned.
This invisible hierarchy shaped nearly every aspect of the festival.
And at this moment, Luo Zheng clearly belonged near the top.
After checking into the hotel, everyone finally had a chance to rest.
The long flight had exhausted even the most energetic members of the delegation.
For once, neither Luo Zheng nor Gao Yuanyuan caused any trouble after entering their room.
Both simply collapsed onto the bed and slept.
The next morning, work officially began.
Everyone split up according to their responsibilities.
Producer Chen Guofu immediately started contacting international distributors.
Potential buyers.
Regional partners.
Media connections.
Every conversation could potentially affect the film's future.
Meanwhile, the professional public-relations team hired from Hollywood began quietly handling jury relations.
Award campaigns had always been a delicate art.
Money alone wasn't enough.
Relationships alone weren't enough.
Everything required precision.
The timing of meetings.
The wording of interviews.
The scheduling of screenings.
Every detail mattered.
While others handled those tasks, Luo Zheng focused on networking.
Together with Gao Yuanyuan, he attended receptions, cocktail parties, and private gatherings organized by directors and producers from various countries.
Each event introduced them to new faces.
Distributors.
Investors.
Filmmakers.
Journalists.
Some came out of genuine admiration.
Others came because they saw business opportunities.
Everyone smiled.
Everyone exchanged compliments.
Everyone pretended their motives were entirely pure.
That was simply how the industry worked.
Meanwhile, Zhao Benshan and Song Dandan spent their days attending screenings.
Officially, they were there to support the festival.
Unofficially, they were gathering intelligence.
Every film in competition represented potential competition for Getting Home.
Knowing what they were up against could only help.
Over the following days, Venice became increasingly crowded.
More stars arrived.
More films premiered.
More journalists filled the streets.
By the time September 3 arrived, excitement throughout the festival had reached a new peak.
That evening would finally mark the premiere of Getting Home.
Before six o'clock, enormous crowds had already gathered outside the legendary Palazzo del Cinema.
Journalists lined both sides of the red carpet.
Photographers prepared their cameras.
Film enthusiasts waited eagerly behind barriers.
Luo Zheng's recent activities in Hollywood had generated tremendous international attention.
Naturally, media outlets from around the world wanted photographs, interviews, and headlines.
The atmosphere became more intense with every passing minute.
One celebrity after another arrived.
Actors.
Directors.
Producers.
Industry executives.
Flashes exploded continuously.
Fans screamed whenever a familiar face appeared.
The red carpet felt less like a film event and more like a battlefield fought with cameras.
Then, finally, the Getting Home delegation arrived.
As the final major appearance before the screening, Luo Zheng and Gao Yuanyuan stepped onto the carpet together.
Instantly, the noise level doubled.
Gao Yuanyuan wore a deep ocean-blue velvet evening gown that flowed elegantly to the ground.
The dress perfectly emphasized her tall, graceful figure.
Its open-back design revealed smooth ivory skin and elegant lines that immediately drew attention.
Her hair was styled in a sophisticated bun, highlighting the delicate beauty of her features.
Standing beneath the flashing lights, she appeared both graceful and breathtakingly beautiful.
Beside her, Luo Zheng wore a custom-tailored black suit.
Simple.
Elegant.
Confident.
Together, they formed a striking image.
A handsome young director.
A stunning actress.
Eastern elegance meeting international glamour.
The photographers loved it.
Camera flashes erupted without pause.
The crowd's cheers rose higher and higher.
For Gao Yuanyuan, it was her first experience attending an event of this magnitude.
Her heartbeat accelerated uncontrollably.
Everywhere she looked were cameras.
Everywhere she looked were strangers staring at her.
Excitement mixed with nervousness until she could barely distinguish one from the other.
Without realizing it, she tightened her grip around Luo Zheng's arm.
Her fingers felt slightly cold.
Luo Zheng immediately noticed.
Without saying anything, he gently patted her hand.
The simple gesture calmed her considerably.
Then he led her forward across the red carpet.
Step by step.
Together.
By the time they entered the screening hall, more than two thousand seats were nearly filled.
The venue buzzed with anticipation.
As members of the main competition section, Luo Zheng and Gao Yuanyuan were seated prominently near the front.
Even before the screening began, distributors continuously approached to greet them.
Some praised Luo Zheng's achievements.
Some complimented Gao Yuanyuan's beauty.
Others simply introduced themselves and exchanged business cards.
Interestingly, none of them mentioned purchasing rights.
Not yet.
These people were veterans.
Experienced.
Patient.
They wanted to evaluate the film first.
If Getting Home proved exceptional, they wanted to be first in line.
If it failed, they would lose nothing by having established friendly relations.
By the time the endless greetings finally subsided, both Luo Zheng and Gao Yuanyuan felt their smiles becoming stiff.
Then, at last, the lights slowly dimmed.
Conversations faded.
The hall gradually fell silent.
Thousands of eyes turned toward the screen.
The premiere everyone had been waiting for was finally about to begin.