The premiere ended.
Time for the press conference.
The first question came from a Movie Channel reporter: "Cassius, your Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor in The Hunger Games 2 marks the first time a actor has broken through in a major mainstream commercial film. What do you think this means for actors everywhere?"
Cassius thought for a second, then answered seriously. "Instead of what it means, I'd rather talk about what it proves. It proves that actors can create deeply moving characters in any kind of movie. It proves our performances can be understood and loved by audiences all over the world."
"This isn't the finish line—it's just a new starting point. I believe more actors will step onto the global stage in the future, and not just acting awards. We'll see directors, writers, and even Best Picture wins too."
Applause rippled through the room.
The next question came from a Beijing News reporter: "Some voices say your Hollywood success is just 'export then re-import.' How do you respond?"
It was a loaded one.
Cassius smiled. "I get why people say that. But let me be clear: I didn't go to Hollywood to come back and sell tickets here. I went because there were roles I wanted to play and people I wanted to work with. My success happened because the work itself moved audiences, not because of my nationality."
He paused. "As for the 're-import' part—I'm happy my films do well , but that shouldn't be the only way we measure an actor's value. A good actor should deliver great performances anywhere, not just in one specific market."
The third question came from an online outlet: "You took the cast to a night market and it blew up online. A lot of netizens are calling it real cultural confidence. What's your take?"
Cassius laughed. "I think people are reading too much into it. I just thought the food was delicious and wanted to share it with my friends. Cultural confidence isn't about forcing a show—it's about being yourself naturally."
"Taking them to the night market is the same as taking them to the Great Wall or the Forbidden City. I'm just sharing the things I love. If they like it, great. If they don't, that's fine too."
"You don't force people to agree with you, and you're not afraid if they don't. That's real confidence."
The answer earned another round of applause. Even Director Justin Lin, sitting beside him, nodded in approval.
The press conference ran a full hour. The reporters still looked like they wanted more.
Cassius's answers had been honest, sharp, and funny—almost impossible to poke holes in.
That same night the headlines dropped fast and loud:
"Cassius at Beijing Premiere: 8,000 Fans Brave the Cold—Pride of the People Is No Empty Title"
"From Night Market to Red Carpet: Cassius Shows What Real Cultural Confidence Looks Like"
"Responding to 'Export-to-Domestic' Criticism: Cassius Says Great Acting Has No Borders"
Weibo was once again completely taken over by Cassius topics.
The top five trending spots all belonged to him.
Meanwhile, #ShiningYouthAirportFail stayed on the list for about thirty minutes before it got shoved off again.
Netizens joked: "Wang Feng finally has company. Now the little fresh-meat idols can join him in never cracking the top spot."
Eleven p.m. The after-party had just wrapped.
Before Cassius could even say anything, Vin Diesel rubbed his bald head and declared, "Cass, that night market was incredible. We're doing it again tonight!"
Paul pulled his coat tighter and nodded hard. "I've dreamed about those soup buns three times. I swear."
Gal checked the weather on her phone. "It's freezing out, but for food like that? Totally worth it."
Tyrese was the funniest. He'd been talking about redemption all afternoon.
"I chickened out on the stinky tofu last time. Tonight I'm manning up!"
He thumped his chest. "You have that saying, right? Fall down in the same place, get back up in the same place?"
The guy had even picked up a few phrases in the last two days.
Cassius grinned. "It's actually 'learn from your mistakes,' but sure, whatever you want."
Director Justin Lin headed back to the hotel to rest.
The other five grabbed hats, masks, and slipped out the back door.
They were immediately spotted by seven or eight fans waiting outside.
"Cass-ge! You taking them for braised pork stew?"
"Fermented bean juice! You gotta do bean juice!"
"Live stream it! My roommate bet Tyrese can't finish a bowl!"
Cassius waved them off with a smile. "Stay safe, don't follow us, it's cold out."
The fans actually listened and stayed back, only snapping a few distant photos of their backs.
Rob had learned his lesson and already scouted ahead. "Wangfujing is too commercial. Let's hit Huguo Temple Street—way more authentic."
"Perfect. You're in charge," Cassius told his assistant with a thumbs-up.
They hopped in a van and headed west.
On the way Paul scrolled his phone and burst out laughing. "Guys, the reaction videos from the Shanghai night market are already everywhere."
He passed the phone over.
Some American food vlogger had made a reaction clip titled When Hollywood Tough Guys Meet Soup Buns.
It was cut perfectly: Vin's burned face, Paul blissfully holding up a lamb skewer, with dramatic text overlays: "OMG THIS JUICE!" "American burgers just lost."
The comments were gold:
"That's exactly how I looked the first time I had soup dumplings."
"Paul found the meaning of life."
"Cassius is the best tour guide—look how patient he is."
"Need the address! Going ASAP!"
Tyrese leaned in and saw the gif of himself dodging the stinky tofu with the caption "Nope! Not today!"
"Hey! That's a personal attack!" he protested.
Cassius patted his shoulder. "Tonight's your chance to redeem yourself."
The van stopped at the entrance to Huguo Temple Street.
It was past midnight, but the old alley was still bright and alive. A few long-running shops had their doors open, white steam rolling out, windows fogged up.
The air smelled even more Northern—braised offal, fried sauce noodles, and that unmistakable sour-fermented tang of bean juice.
Tyrese jumped out first, took a deep breath, then froze. "What the hell is that smell? Like something went bad?"
Vin wrinkled his nose. "Stronger than the stinky tofu."
Paul stayed chill. "Blue cheese smells like feet but tastes amazing."
Gal already had her phone out, recording. "Documenting Tyrese's redemption arc."
Cassius led them into an old-school shop.
White tile walls, wooden tables and chairs, a faded 90s menu board with red plastic lettering.
The owner, a man in his fifties, was watching TV behind the counter. He saw the group of foreigners, then did a double-take when Cassius pulled off his mask.
"Yo, aren't you—"
"Boss, five bowls of bean juice, fried dough rings, braised pork stew with sesame buns, liver stir-fry, and some rolled glutinous rice cakes too," Cassius rattled off quickly so the guy wouldn't shout his name and draw a crowd.
The owner's hands shook with excitement. "Sit! Coming right up!"
They squeezed around a square table against the wall.
Tyrese was hyped. "Bean juice first! Let's go!"
Cassius tried to warn him. "You sure? This stuff you gotta ease into—"
"Ease into what!" Tyrese declared, ready to reclaim his honor. "I'm going straight in!"
Gal pointed her phone at him. "Live stream starting. Friends, witness the moment."
The owner brought the tray.
Five bowls of gray-green bean juice, steaming hot, that sour-fermented smell hitting hard.
Golden, crispy fried dough rings on the side, plus a small dish of pickled veggies.
Tyrese took a huge breath, lifted the bowl, glanced at the others.
Vin gave him a "go for it" gesture.
Paul clenched a fist. "You got this, bro!"
Gal zoomed in.
Cassius whispered one last time, "Small sips, don't—"
Too late.
Tyrese tilted the bowl and chugged half of it in one go.
He set it down, mouth working like he was tasting it.
Then his face started changing.
Anticipation → confusion → shock → total collapse.
The sour, fermented, slightly sweet aftertaste rolled across his tongue.
Fuck… it's sweet!
"What the hell is this?!" he mumbled, still holding it in his mouth. "Tastes like spoiled soy milk mixed with mop water!"
Vin couldn't hold it in and laughed out loud.
Paul asked, "For real?"
Tyrese's face twisted. He was about to spit it out—
Right then the door burst open and seven or eight young fans rushed in, phones up. "It really is Cassius!"
"Vin Diesel too!"
They'd clearly followed the online buzz.
Cameras swung straight to Tyrese.
He still had a mouthful of bean juice. Spit or swallow—both were bad.
Cassius whispered, "Fans are watching. Tough-guy image on the line."
Tyrese's eyes widened. With a heroic look of pure suffering, he forced it down.
Then he slumped in his chair like his soul had left his body, eyes hollow, tears forming.
The fans lost it laughing.
Someone already turned the moment into a gif: "Tyrese: Why did I challenge food?"
Gal caught the whole thing on video, shoulders shaking as she tried not to laugh.
Cassius quickly stepped in. "Boss, give him a fried dough ring to chase it."
Tyrese grabbed the crispy ring, stuffed it in his mouth, and finally recovered. He pointed at Cassius. "You… you set me up!"
"I warned you," Cassius said innocently, hands up. "You're the one who chugged it!"
Vin took a careful sip. His face changed, but he stayed composed. "Hm… very unique. Like over-fermented oatmeal, but with that crispy ring… actually not bad."
Paul tried it and shook his head. "Nope. This one's beyond me."
Gal barely touched it to her lips and set it down. "I'll stick with the fried dough rings."
Cassius took a big sip and sighed happily. "You guys just don't get it. This stuff is addictive."
The fans stayed polite, taking photos from a respectful distance.
One brave girl asked, "Cass-ge, you think they can handle the braised pork stew?"
Cassius looked at the group. "Want to try?"
The steaming bowl arrived—thick, oily, dark broth with pork intestines, lungs, tofu puffs, and sesame buns soaked in it.
This time Vin asked first. "What parts are these?"
"Pork intestines and lungs."
Paul looked a little uneasy. "We don't really eat organ meat back home…"
But Tyrese was on a mission to reclaim his dignity.
He scooped up a spoonful, closed his eyes, and shoved it in.
Two chews later his eyes flew open. "This one's good!"
The stew was tender, flavorful, the strong offal taste mellowed by spices. Salty, rich, perfect.
Vin tried it and nodded. "Way friendlier than the bean juice."
Gal cautiously tasted a tofu puff soaked in the broth and lit up. "This is delicious!"
When the liver stir-fry arrived, Tyrese went full fearless mode again.
"This texture is like meat gravy but thicker," Paul analyzed. "The liver's tender, not gamey at all."
Cassius explained while eating, "A lot of Beijing snacks started as poor people's food. Offal was cheap, so people got creative with the flavors."
"Genius," Vin said, giving a thumbs-up. "Like how American BBQ started with cheap ribs."
The sweet stuff—rolled glutinous rice cakes and pea-flour cakes—won everyone over instantly.
The chewy, sweet red-bean rolls and light pea cakes had the foreigners smiling ear to ear.
Gal especially loved them. "These should be imported to the States. They'd sell like crazy."
While they were finishing up, the owner brought out a plate of fried sausage.
"On the house! For you guys!" he said, rubbing his hands excitedly. "Cassius, my daughter's a huge fan. Can she get a photo?"
"Of course!"
Cassius stood up, wiped his hands, and took pictures with the owner's daughter, then signed autographs for the whole staff.
The fans lined up politely for photos too—no chaos.
Tyrese took the chance to try the fried sausage dipped in garlic sauce.
He sucked in air from the spice but kept going.
When the bill came, the owner refused to take money.
Cassius still scanned the QR code and paid quietly. "Business is tough, boss. You should charge."
They stepped outside. It was already 12:30 a.m.
The street was quieter, but a few fans still lingered.
Cassius turned and called out, "It's cold, everyone head home! We'll still be here tomorrow!"
Only then did the fans slowly disperse.
On the ride back to the hotel, Tyrese slumped in the back seat, rubbing his stomach. "I feel like I ate an entire pig."
Paul scrolled his phone and laughed. "It's already trending."
#TyreseBeanJuiceFace
#CassiusHuguoTempleLateNight
#HollywoodStarsBeijingSnackChallenge
The top post was a nine-grid gif set:
Tyrese chugging the bean juice, face freezing, spotting the fans, forcing it down, then collapsing in defeat.
Caption: "The rise and fall of a man—all in one sip of bean juice."
Comments were ruthless:
"Hahahahaha Tyrese suffered so hard."
"Cassius 100% did this on purpose."
"But he actually swallowed it! Legend!"
"Compared to him, Vin stayed so calm—true veteran."
"Gal is still elegant even eating street food."
Tyrese covered his face. "My image…"
Cassius patted him. "It's fine. Very relatable."
"Relatable my ass!" Tyrese groaned. "My mouth still tastes like that sour mop water!"
Gal sent the full video to the group chat. "Already edited. Posting to Instagram tomorrow. Title: Tyrese's Food Redemption – Epic Fail Edition."
"Nooo!" Tyrese begged.
The whole van erupted in laughter.
Vin suddenly said, "These nights have been way more fun than any red carpet."
Paul nodded. "On the red carpet everyone's fake smiling. Here, getting your soul destroyed by bean juice is real."
Cassius stared out at Beijing's night skyline, streetlights sliding across the window.
He thought back to a few years ago, when he was just an extra in L.A., sitting on the curb eating a three-dollar lunch box.
Never in a million years would he have imagined bringing a bunch of Hollywood A-listers to a Beijing alley to drink fermented bean juice.
Life really is something.
Before heading to his room, Cassius posted on Weibo: "Huguo Temple late-night snack mission complete. Tyrese paid the price for his courage, but the braised pork stew and liver stir-fry won international approval. Thanks to the boss for the hospitality and to the fans for the polite watching. See you tomorrow."
He attached a group photo of the five of them holding up fried dough rings.
Tyrese's smile looked more painful than his crying face.
Two minutes later the comments hit ten thousand:
"Tyrese: Thanks a lot, bro."
"Next time make them try bean juice with the fried dough rings—absolute kill shot."
"Which shop at Huguo Temple? I'm going tomorrow!"
"Need a replay! I missed the live bean juice moment and I'm mad about it!"
Cassius scrolled through the replies, smiling, then turned off his phone.
The morning after the Beijing premiere.
The Universal marketing head frowned at his iPad. "Happy Camp? Cass, you sure? We checked the numbers—the show's ratings have been dropping the last few years. It's a comedy variety show. Won't that hurt Fast & Furious 5's hardcore action image?"
Before Cassius could answer, Director Justin Lin spoke up. "I've heard of that show in the States. Isn't it one longest-running variety programs?"
"It's been on for over ten years, airs every Saturday night. Used to pull two hundred million viewers on average."
Cassius turned his phone around. The screen showed Weibo's trending list. "But right now the real key is online heat. The video of us at the night market already has over fifty million views. Fans are begging for more. They want to see our real reactions on a variety show."
Kevin pushed up his glasses. "But every other country's press tour is just premieres and interviews. Staying an extra three days for a show means extra costs and extra risk—"
"The risk is it might blow up even bigger," Cassius cut in calmly but firmly. "Kevin, let me ask you—what's the core selling point of this movie?"
"Action, cars, family."
"Exactly. Family." Cassius pulled up a clip from Happy Camp. "Look at this show. The five hosts call themselves the Happy Family and have been together for over a decade. The audience treats them like actual family. Doesn't that line up perfectly with our movie's message that family comes first?"
On the screen the hosts were clowning around; the studio audience was cracking up.
Justin leaned in and nodded. "The vibe is warm and fun—like a mix of The Tonight Show and Saturday Night Live."
Kevin's eyes lit up.
The conference room door opened.
Vin Diesel poked his bald head in. "Hey, what are we talking about? When's lunch?"
Paul followed, still holding a bag of fried dough rings from last night. "Cass, you got any more of these crispy rings? I had them for breakfast and I can't stop."
Gal walked in right after. "My Instagram gained three hundred thousand followers overnight—all because of the food posts. Cass, you're responsible for taking us to the next city's best eats."
Tyrese came in last, still a little green but talking big. "I'm done with bean juice, but everything else I can handle!"
Kevin looked at the group and suddenly smiled.
He turned back to Cassius. "How did you talk them into this?"
"I didn't," Cassius shrugged. "I just said the food in Changsha is ten times better than Beijing. They all agreed immediately."