Chapter 113: The Mushroom-Picking Mei Linda

Beiyingchang, Wei Ming was reading the newspaper in Wang Yang’s office.

There was another door in the office, usually closed, with a white artificial flower hanging on the handle.

“Little Wei, sorry to keep you waiting,” Wang Yang said, returning from the meeting.

He handed back Wei Ming’s original manuscript.

“What are your thoughts on this work?” Wang Yang asked.

Wei Ming perked up—this meant the project was approved!

Over the past few days, Wang Yang had shown the manuscript to several senior leaders.

Most expressed liking and appreciation; its entertainment value was obvious, and the central theme was also very positive—but one problem remained: who at Beiyingchang could direct it?

After looking around, no one seemed particularly suitable; no one had ever made a martial arts film before. The veteran directors didn’t want to touch it, calling it unartistic, while the young directors who wanted to try feared they couldn’t handle it—martial arts films were too expensive.

The meeting just held had been about selecting a director, but they’d reached no conclusion, so Wang Yang decided to ask Wei Ming directly.

“I’m worried domestic technical capabilities can’t do justice to this martial arts film,” Wei Ming said, “so could we make it a co-production and hire a director from Hong Kong?”

Wang Yang nodded: “That’s a viable direction, but first, write the screenplay.”

“Alright.”

Wang Yang asked again: “Would you like our studio to provide you with a dormitory so you can focus on writing?”

Wei Ming declined his kindness—he didn’t plan to finish the screenplay that quickly.

Because he still had to wait for Xia Meng’s Qingniao Film Company to be established.

The only Hong Kong film companies that could currently collaborate with Beiyingchang were the left-leaning Changcheng, Fenghuang, and Xinlian—but after the movement, these three major left-wing studios were severely weakened, barely able to manage themselves.

Moreover, Changcheng was already producing its own “Shaolin Temple” and later teamed up with Xinlian to form a new “Zhongyuan Film Company”; they likely wouldn’t open another project, and one phoenix couldn’t offer much help.

So Wei Ming had to wait for Qingniao to launch—Ms. Xia Meng had borrowed money from the Huo family to start her business; she had funds, connections, and capability, making her the most suitable partner Wei Ming could imagine for Beiyingchang.

After leaving Wang’s office, Wei Ming soon “accidentally” ran into Liu Xiaoqing.

A large face suddenly appeared before Wei Ming, beaming with enthusiasm: “You must be Wei Ming, the writer, right? Hello, I’m Liu Xiaoqing.”

The woman extended her hand; Wei Ming shook it: “Oh, hi, hi.”

Though Liu Xiaoqing had changed her appearance since their last meeting, he never held others to his own standards—just passable was enough.

"You're incredible, producing novel after screenplay," Liu Xiaoqing praised, then shifted the topic to "The Herdsman," clearly uninterested in the martial arts film.

Although “The Herdsman” hadn’t been assigned to Beiyingchang, Liu Xiaoqing desperately wanted the role of Wei Fenfang for herself, so she’d specifically waited here for Wei Ming.

Who says Shangyingchang can’t use Beiyingchang actors? Li Xiuming had starred in Shangying’s films, and Shangying’s Chen Chong had appeared in Beiying’s productions.

There might be some studio rivalries, but ultimately suitability was the top priority.

But the problem is, sister, you’re not suitable—you clearly look like a dominant woman; how could you play Wei Fenfang? And your age doesn’t fit either.

Though Liu Xiaoqing was roughly the same age as Zhu Lin and Gong Ying, she and Zhu Lin had the look of mature women, while Sister Xue looked much younger—perhaps that’s the advantage of a small face; she looked better on the big screen.

Liu Xiaoqing smiled all the way as she saw Wei Ming off at the studio gate, but got no promise from him to recommend her to Director Xie Jin.

Come on, we’ve never slept together—I’ve got no reason to.

Of course, he’d never slept with Sister Xue either—but he’d thought about it.

Wei Ming pedaled hard up the hill, wondering how Director Xie Jin was doing—had he taken an interest in Sister Xue yet?

Back at Peking University, before work hours, Wei Ming went again to Nan Ge—and found Mei Linda there. She’d come to deliver a few cassette tapes to Professor Gu as a farewell gift.

International students carried so much baggage; it was easier to leave things behind as mementos for those they knew.

Seeing no other students, Mei Linda kissed Wei Ming while Professor Gu’s back was turned, then quickly pulled away, mouthing: My period’s over!

Wei Ming understood—tonight would be a major battle.

Professor Gu, facing away, had sharp ears; hearing the kiss, she turned around.

“Little Wei, why are you here today? Afraid I’ll chase you for homework?” she teased.

Wei Ming pulled out a sheet of paper: “Because I finished the assignment before coming.”

“Oh, ‘Where Is Spring?’ is done?”

“Yes, check if it’s passing.”

Professor Gu glanced once: “Passing? Definitely. But not perfect—class can’t stop.”

Wei Ming smiled: “As long as you’re at Peking University, I’ll keep attending.”

!

“Even after I leave, you’re welcome anytime,” Professor Gu said, “I’ll give you my address later.”

“Great.”

Professor Gu asked Wei Ming: “Any new lyrics lately?”

Wei Ming smiled and pulled out another sheet: “Actually, yes.”

Professor Gu glanced: “The Mushroom-Picking Girl—any melody?”

Wei Ming shook his head: “Could you compose the tune for me, Professor?”

Professor Gu chuckled: “What, scared of homework?”

Not exactly—he just felt awkward asking someone he knew, since the song was originally composed by her.

After Wei Ming insisted he had no inspiration, Professor Gu finally took the task—a simple children’s song, meant for Lele to sing.

On the way back to Shao Yuan, Mei Linda asked Wei Ming: “Is your song inspired by me?”

Wei Ming was puzzled: “I don’t remember you ever saying you picked mushrooms in your hometown?”

Mei Linda: “Lately, I’ve been picking mushrooms every night.”

Wei Ming froze—dirty, dirty, dirty, he was tainted!

But Mei Linda could now crack Chinese dirty jokes—Wei Ming had even more confidence in her translation skills.

That night, Mei Linda demanded endlessly, and Wei Ming didn’t let down the Chinese gentlemen—he pleased her thoroughly.

The next day, Mei Linda would defend her thesis; Wei Ming sat in on Wu Zuxiang’s class, then visited his office afterward, chatting about the experiences of scholars and intellectuals like them during that period, gathering material for his new work.

At this moment, Gouzitun.

Xu Shufen asked her husband, lost in thought: “What’s wrong? Ever since you read that letter, you’ve been off—what did it say?”

Wei Jiefang: “I’m not sure—I need to ask our son face to face.”

“Ah, you’re going to Yanjing?”

“Not just me—we’re going,” he hugged his wife, “You’ve never been to Yanjing, right? Let’s go together!”

(End of Chapter)