Part 6: Yellow

Award Presenter: And now, the films nominated for Best Director this year are—
Award Presenter: Wang Changmai—A Century Away from Home, Xu Liuqing—The Codebreaker, and Noire—Where Shadows Walk.
Award Presenter: And the winner of the Best Director Award is—
Award Presenter: Noire—Where Shadows Walk! Congratulations!

Gold 1988
The day before the award ceremony.
Noire: Boring, dull, trite, inane.
Several scripts land on the floor. Noire taps the wheel impatiently.
Noire: Why are all these films just rehashes of everything I've watched since the day I was born? Haven't we had enough of these already?
Lin: These are all the scripts Alisa screened. There isn't a single one you're happy with?
Noire: Switching around a few jobs and characters doesn't make a new story. Some of these arcs are totally incoherent. They've just been thrown in to match this year's box office template.
Noire: I'm tired of reading them. Just imagine how much worse it will be for those poor audiences.
Noire: There should be a waiting period—thirty years at least—before filmmakers are allowed to use the same old tricks. Let us grow old in peace and try them again on the new generation.
Noire waves her hand dismissively, prompting Lin to gather the scripts from the table and throw them into a waiting trash can.
Noire: Any response from the writers?
The company's screenwriting team. When Noire's films returned to the public eye, she was buried in opportunities from all directions.
Old film companies with proud legacies, new conglomerates yet to enter the movie industry but eager to claim their share, and even a few unsavory underground organizations.
Lin: No.
Lin: However, I hear they're working on a crime flick.
Noire: Another crime drama. The police certainly have their hands full, don't they?
Lin: You have eight meetings today, and three of them overlap. Somehow, you'll need to squeeze in time for another script.
Lin: And your first meeting started about seventeen minutes ago.
Noire is about to speak, but Lin beats her to the punch.
Lin: As the head of the film department, it's your duty to assess all new movie plans.
Lin: And now you've got a boss of your own.
Noire: ...
Noire's half-parted lips move as if to speak, but then she reconsiders.
Noire: It beats having to deal with telemarketers.
With a casual wave, Noire maneuvers her wheelchair and exits the office.
Noire: sigh
In the quiet of the night, following a full day of meetings, Noire finds herself alone on the company rooftop.
Across the city, neon lights pulse in steady patterns, and headlights streak through the streets. A lively performance but one devoid of joy.
There's no sound but the soft rippling of wind.
Noire: ...
Staring out into the faint specks of light in the far distance of the night, Noire takes a cigarette from her pocket. As she moves to light it, a woman's voice startles her.
Lin: Ms. Noire.
Noire: Ah!
Her hand trembles, and the cigarette slips from between her fingers, plummeting from the rooftop into the shadows below.
Noire: That was ... my last one ... Lin.
Noire turns her head, revealing a painfully phony smile.
Noire: Why aren't you home already?
Lin: I've been going through the minutes.
Noire: It's late. Go home. I need a little space to focus on myself for a change, alright?
Lin: What are you thinking about?
Noire: What else? The film, of course.
Lin: You're still thinking about it?
Noire doesn't respond all at once, choosing instead to look back over the cityscape in silence.
Noire: This is a thriving international city—glitz, glamour, and excess—but from here, it feels like I can hold it all in the palm of my hand.
Noire: This city is filled with countless dreamers, young souls pushing through harsh realities, hoping for one moment when destiny finally smiles on them.
Noire: And when those chosen few finally get the chance to rise to the top, they understand—there's not much up here after all.
Noire: And in that instant, how does that dreamer feel?
The skyscrapers at the limits of her gaze are nothing but darkened silhouettes, with green lasers tracing patterns far beyond them in the night sky.
Lin: I'd guess it's close to how you feel right now.
Noire: It isn't enough.
In the end, the inferno will devour all that surrounds them.
Lin observes Noire at her side, her expression now solemn as she fixes her gaze far beyond the skyline.
Noire: I'm done with this city. My art belongs across the Pacific, beyond these waves, not stuck between these little islands.
Noire: Are you curious to see whether I'll succeed, or do you just want to be there when I crash and burn?
Lin: Either one.
Lin snaps with a feigned indifference.
Lin: Because I can feel myself becoming the same kind of person.
Noire: Thank you, thank you!
Noire wheels herself onto the stage, her voice muffled at first as the microphone hasn't yet been lowered to her level.
Noire: My thanks go out to the judges and the crew. This isn't just my award—this award belongs to all of us. Where Shadows Walk is the culmination of so many people's combined effort and dedication.
As she says this, Noire tilts herself toward the crew's seating area, bowing courteously. The crowd erupts in applause once more.
Noire: It's strange being back up here.
Noire: So much has changed since the first time I stood on this stage.
Noire taps the frame of her wheelchair, eliciting a round of good-natured laughter from the audience.
Noire: It's tough, loyal, and always there when I need it. If only we could say the same about everyone in our lives.
Noire intentionally holds the silence, watching the faint flickers of awkward smiles forming in the crowd.
Noire: The loss of a close friend, the crash, the paralysis ... I won't lie, these past years have been hard, and I've been silent for much of it.
Noire: A lot of people had their doubts about me. Some decided to abandon me entirely. And I don't entirely blame them.
Noire: I've always thought of life as a montage of moments, and with so much behind me now, my picture's completely changed.
Noire: Just being able to be up here again is proof enough to the world that I'm still going strong!
Noire gazes over the sea of faces beneath her. There are a few she knows, but far more she's never met.
Her mind lingers on those missing from the crowd—the ones who left the craft behind, the ones who didn't have a choice.
She pauses, her head bowed in silent reflection, but as she lifts her gaze, her director's persona resurfaces.
Noire: To everyone who supported us, I offer you my heartfelt thanks. On this momentous day, I have something important to share with you all.
Noire: I've decided it's time to bid farewell to the past and embark on a new adventure. I hope you'll all be looking forward to it.
Her eyes sweep over the crowd, their shared tongue and similar upbringing reminding her of the connections they still hold.
Noire: Until next year, everyone.
Amid the audience's cheers, Noire makes her way down from the stage.
Within half an hour, she and Lin are already on a flight to Los Angeles.
Noire: Take one final look.
Noire lifts the shade covering the airplane window.
Noire: It's only a matter of hours now, then we'll be stepping into the great unknown. Are you ready for it, Lin?
Lin: Good night.
Following Lin's words, Noire lets her eye mask slip down, settling down comfortably into her chair.
Noire: Good night.
The runway blurs beneath the plane as it speeds up, and after a fleeting moment of weightlessness, the pale dots of red and green below blur and vanish into the night.
Noire: Goodbye, goodnight.