Love and Damage

On a scorching summer day, the 36-year-old livestreams from inside her cramped store. The only moments she smiles are during these streams, as she presents outfits to her largely female audience. 　

She must also deal with demanding online customers and call garment factories to resolve return orders. Zeng handles everything on her own, unable to afford an assistant. She squeezes in hurried bites of delivered food, placing the container on a small chair beside her. 　

This is the opening scene of The Sun Rises on Us All, the latest drama directed by Cai Shangjun. Zeng is portrayed by 39-year-old actress Xin Zhilei, whose performance earned Best Actress at the 82nd Venice International Film Festival in September 2025. She is the third Chinese actress to receive this prestigious honor, following Gong Li for The Story of Qiu Ju (1992) and Deanie Ip Tak-han for A Simple Life (2011). The film was also nominated for the Golden Lion, the festival’s top prize. 　

Released on November 7, 2025, The Sun Rises on Us All follows Zeng, a woman struggling to survive whose world is shaken when she unexpectedly encounters her former lover Wu Baoshu (Zhang Songwen). Years earlier, Wu served a five-year prison sentence in her place for a fatal hit-and-run accident. Now terminally ill with cancer, his reappearance reopens old wounds. Their reunion stirs lingering emotions, regret and a desire for redemption, as both grapple with confronting their traumatic past. 

At the time, Xin was performing in the Chinese adaptation of the acclaimed one-woman stage play Prima Facie. Written by Australian playwright Suzie Miller and premiering in 2019, it spotlights Tessa, a resilient lawyer who initially defends men accused of sexual assault but later fights for justice on behalf of female victims. In Cai’s view, Xin possesses an “artless courage” that closely matched Zeng’s temperament. 　

Cai co-wrote the screenplay with his wife, screenwriter Han Nianjin. In Cai’s earlier works, such as the revenge film People Mountain People Sea (2011), he explored stories set against broader social backdrops. This time, he focused on the emotional and moral dilemmas of three individuals, delving into the subtle depths of human psychology and everyday relationships. 　

In The Sun Rises on Us All, Zeng is involved in an affair with a married man, Chen Qifeng (Feng Shaofeng). At a crowded public hospital, an ultrasound confirms her pregnancy, although no heartbeat is detected yet. It is there she runs into Wu Baoshu, the former boyfriend who is receiving cancer treatment. Seven years earlier, Wu took responsibility for a fatal hit-and-run accident that Zeng had caused, serving a five-year prison sentence as a result. 　

Overcome by guilt, Zeng attempts to make amends by covering Wu’s medical expenses. He then asks to stay in her apartment, a request she reluctantly accepts. As Wu moves into her dimly lit, cramped home, his presence threatens Zeng’s already fragile relationship with Chen. 　

Cai has cited his favorite author, Canadian Nobel Prize winner Alice Munro (1931-2024), as a key influence on the screenplay. Munro is renowned for her sharp insights into the hidden complexities of everyday life. “While writing, I wanted to capture the fleeting moments when characters shift between good and evil, sometimes in the blink of an eye,” Cai told NewsChina. 

Over the course of a single month, Zeng encounters multiple trials, among them being the painful realization that the redemption she seeks may be unattainable. “Trying to erase the sin and guilt weighing on her heart, [Zeng] Meiyun allows [Wu] Baoshu back into her life. In that moment, they both come to recognize the pain they carry,” Cai said. 　

“She was once a happy woman, her heart full of sunshine,” Xin Zhilei told NewsChina. “But after the accident, her life became burdened with sorrow and guilt. When she meets [Wu] Baoshu again, she believes she finally has a chance to make things right.” 

The hospital scenes were filmed in hospitals in Guangzhou and Shaoguan, Guangdong Province. Although the crew were only permitted to shoot at midnight, working in real hospitals provided immersive details for actors that are difficult to recreate on a sound stage, such as the pungent smell of disinfectant. 　

“Every detail in real settings not only bears traces of real life but also carries the energy of real emotions,” Cai said. “Even the aura of ‘sickness’ that permeates a hospital influences the actors’ performances.” 　

Rather than requiring extensive rehearsals, Cai emphasized actors’ spontaneous responses in natural settings. Throughout filming, he insisted on using natural light for most scenes. “We had no intention of creating visually striking single shots,” Cai told NewsChina. “What we wanted was an overall sense of authenticity across the entire film.” 　

Cai’s insistence on realism dates back to People Mountain People Sea. To shoot a mine scene, Cai and his team spent a long time searching Southwest China for a suitable location. They eventually found a 300-meter-deep mine in Guizhou Province, where Cai filmed a one-minute take descending into the depths of the earth. 　

Before becoming a director, Cai worked as a screenwriter. In 1987, he was admitted to the Central Academy of Drama in Beijing, where he co-founded the drama club Honghu (The Swan) with Meng Jinghui, who became one of China’s most renowned avant-garde theater directors, and Diao Yinan, now a celebrated filmmaker and screenwriter. After graduation, Cai began his career as a professional screenwriter, penning several award-winning films including Spicy Love Soup (1999), Shower (1999) and Sunflower (2005). 　

Over time, Cai realized that he trusted visual images more than words as a form of self-expression. “In writing, I believe verbs and nouns are solid and believable, but adjectives and adverbs are questionable,” he said. “In images, there are no adjectives or adverbs. I often feel that words cannot fully express what I want to say, but images can. Their ambiguity, richness and depth convey meaning more effectively.” 　

In 2007, Cai made his directorial debut with The Red Awn, a story about a father who has worked away from his home village for years and the son he left behind. The film explores the shared predicament of China’s rural migrant workers and the emotional distance within their families. 　

In 2011, People Mountain People Sea, based on a real case that occurred in Guizhou Province in 2007, tells the story of Lao Tie, a man who rides a motorcycle across half of China to avenge his brother’s death. Cai did not want to tell a simple revenge story. Lao Tie’s journey exposes stark social realities, including China’s desolate villages, indifferent cities and decaying mining towns. 

In The Sun Rises On Us All, Cai shifts away from broad social critique and instead delves into the psyche, particularly how people are shaped by their past. “Words we’ve said, actions we’ve taken and choices we’ve made all form who we are today,” Cai said. “If we had acted differently in the past, our fate might have been entirely different. When we look back, many seemingly minor moments turn out to be decisive turning points.” 

“How much love truly exists in relationships between men and women in China?” wrote Douban user “Harper.” “Over time, many relationships descend into grumbling, tolerance and mutual blame. Cai Shangjun accurately portrays these complex emotional dynamics with precise cinematic language.” 　

Some audiences criticized the film’s many narrative turns. “The characters endure too many painful experiences,” Douban user “Qingshu” commented. “The story is filled with tragedies such as car accidents, prison sentences, cancer, extramarital pregnancy, unemployment, infidelity... I don’t understand why so much suffering is necessary. It feels excessive and melodramatic.” 　

Another viewer, “Ackman,” wrote: “[The film] depicts individuals deeply entangled in love, loss and emotional debt, but fails to explain why people remain trapped in guilt and repayment, or why ‘love’ is ultimately reduced to calculations of gain and loss.” 　

One of the most debated moments is the ending, which some viewers found confusing and sensational. From actress Xin Zhilei’s perspective, it represents a deeper bond between the two characters. “Sometimes love does not truly connect two people,” she told NewsChina. “Pain and trauma do.” 　

For Cai, this ambiguity is not a narrative weakness, but a reflection of life itself. “There is no standard answer for Meiyun’s motivation,” he said. “Every viewer will interpret it differently, based on their own experiences.” 　

That openness extends to Cai’s working rhythm as well. He has long maintained a slow and deliberate pace of creation, directing only four works over the past 18 years. However, each has won acclaim in China and abroad, such as People Mountain People Sea, which took the Silver Lion for Best Direction at the 68th Venice International Film Festival in 2011. 　

Despite his screenwriting background, Cai has never adapted literary works for the screen. Each of his films is co-written with his wife, Han Nianjin, a process that privileges depth over speed. “Everyone has their own rhythm in life, and creative work is the same,” Cai said. 　

Audience tastes and market trends may change rapidly, but Cai is not motivated by formulas or fashions. “Each project is a new beginning,” he said. “Films that were popular in the past may no longer resonate today. There is no universal formula for success in filmmaking. All you can do is make truly good work. In the end, the work itself speaks for what quality really means.”