[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-rising-in-1979":3,"chapter-rising-in-1979-rising-in-1979-chapter-120":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Rising in 1979",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2260828,4412,"Chapter 120: Zhou Huimin (Fourth Update: Celebrating the New Year)","rising-in-1979-chapter-120",120,"\u003Cp>Qi Kexiu walked in full of anticipation—and hey, guess what?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only a single bone left, picked clean as a whistle!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He, a primary school teacher, once a Beijing gentleman, could he possibly gnaw on bones like that!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A disgrace to scholarship!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qi Kexiu had intended to turn and leave, but since he’d walked right into the trap, Wei Jiefang wouldn’t dream of letting him go.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Kexiu, I truly regret it—I never studied culture like you did,” Old Wei suddenly sighed with self-reproach.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Oh, now you’ve learned self-reflection? Realized you’re just a nouveau riche at heart?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qi Kexiu sat down steadily: “Big Brother, it’s not too late—not at all. Sure, you muddled through junior high, but you’ve got at least elementary-level literacy. Far from illiterate.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old Wei poured Qi Kexiu a glass of cheap baijiu: “Have a drink with your brother.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qi Kexiu glanced around but saw no better liquor—he’d have to make do.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old Wei added: “Other subjects—math, Chinese—I’m okay, barely functional. But English? I don’t understand a word. You get it, right?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qi Kexiu: “Nod yes, shake no—‘come’ is ‘e,’ ‘go’ is ‘go.’ Simple. We saw foreigners in Beijing, walked right up and chatted, made them dizzy. Come on, you’ve seen foreigners in Beijing too, right?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Jiefang: “I haven’t. I just worry—what if little Ming finds a foreign wife? If I had your English, I’d feel better.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qi Kexiu paused mid-sip, lips twitching: “Big Brother, you’re overthinking.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old Wei: “Huh? Am I overthinking?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Way too much! Little Ming is outstanding, sure—handsome, the best in the entire region, and he writes too. Even in Beijing he’s a notable figure. But foreign countries are advanced—they live in skyscrapers. Why would they look at us? Oh, if you mean African girls, that’s different—I wouldn’t touch them even if they were free.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old Wei: “Not African. British.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qi Kexiu blinked: “What do you mean, British?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His wife Fan Chunhua, still nearby, sighed: “Little Ming’s dating a British girl. Can you believe how talented he is!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A chill crept over Qi Kexiu. You sneaky bastard, Wei Goudan—you’ve been waiting for this! Is it talent or just money he’s got?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And since Old Wei dared say it, it must be true—though he didn’t know if it was some British bald, buck-toothed fat woman.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qi Kexiu struggled to keep his crumbling dignity intact: “That’s great! Bring her back sometime—we’ll all get a look. Chunhua’s never seen a foreigner.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old Wei sighed: “Can’t bring her back. She graduated, already went back to Britain. They broke up.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Oh, they broke up!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qi Kexiu exhaled in relief, waving his hand: “These things rarely last. Foreigners just play around—they’re very casual.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old Wei added: “Yeah, they broke up, but she gave my son a watch—some Swiss brand, worth… Shufen, how much was it again?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Xu Shufen, sorting luggage in the inner room, called back: “She said over ten thousand.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Right, over ten thousand—and it glows in the dark, like a gem!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fan Chunhua didn’t notice her husband’s ashen face: “Good heavens, our commune doesn’t even have ten-thousand-yuan households yet. One watch worth that much? Isn’t she still hung up on little Ming?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Jiefang nodded: “She chased him first. I’m afraid she’ll come back in two years, so I want to learn foreign languages fast—I’ll learn from you, Kexiu. You know so much. By the way, is this watch really worth ten thousand?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old Wei pulled out a photo: their family of three dining at a restaurant, clearly showing the distinctive watch on Wei Ming’s wrist.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What a slick, vicious combo move!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qi Kexiu glanced once, dismissive: “Can’t tell. Don’t understand watches.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old Wei: “Then did you notice this is Laomo?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Laomo?!” Qi Kexiu stared again—hard. This… this was the legendary Laomo!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Jiefang: “I just mentioned it once, but little Ming insisted we go eat Soviet food. Boring, expensive. But the vodka? Strong, proper stuff. I brought a bottle back—next time, invite Secretary Lao, we’ll try it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qi Kexiu shot to his feet, unsteady from two glasses of liquor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Kexiu, what’s wrong? Chunhua, hold him up!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qi Kexiu pushed away Fan Chunhua: “Nothing. Just remembered I haven’t graded my class’s homework. I’m leaving.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Watching Qi Kexiu stumble off in daze, Wei Jiefang worried—had he crushed him too hard? He couldn’t collapse—what would he play with now?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qi Kexiu: Ridiculous. Do you think I’m that easily defeated?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Back home, Qi Kexiu pulled out a notebook and wrote three big characters: “Qi Kuangren!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hmph. Wei Jiefang, a petty man riding his writer son’s coattails.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fine. I’ll become his son! No, no—no, I’ll become a writer myself!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qi Kexiu slapped his head. What cheap swill—made his thoughts scramble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whatever. I’ll write tomorrow. Today I’ve picked my pen name: “Qi Kuangren.” Submission target: “Gushihui.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two major steps taken already—surpassed 99% of people worldwide. Good. Time to sleep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The next morning, Wei Ming checked in at the school magazine office, then went to audit classes. He listened intently, took photos after class, even approached professors to discuss writing an article.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yang Hao and the others could slack off—he wanted to write well. Didn’t need length, just no nonsense.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At noon, Wei Ming picked up another batch of letters at the south gate. When he saw the return address: “Zhu Lin,” he opened it immediately.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhu Lin mentioned she was about to join a film crew as an actress.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Little Wei, by the time you get this letter, I may already be on a train to Yunnan—I won’t be home for the New Year. My parents and boyfriend blame me for being reckless. But this opportunity is rare. I’ve always been good, always obeyed everyone. Isn’t it okay to be reckless once? I might never get another chance to make a movie. I missed ‘Hai Xia’ before—I won’t miss this one.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“By the way, the other day I came to buy tapes from you, but you weren’t there. I saw your mom—she’s so young! I thought I should call her sister. Hahaha. I’ll find you again after I return from Yunnan—or invite you and Qiao Feng and Mu Rong to my wedding.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The words “wedding” were written with heavy pressure. Wei Ming smiled faintly—why bring that up now, Sister?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Was she letting him know she had a boyfriend, so she could declare she’d soon be married?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he finished reading, Liu Rulong walked in as casually as if entering his own dorm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Aming, when do we leave?” he asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming had told him about the book—he couldn’t wait. Today he was going to “Children’s Literature.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming said: “Along, can you find out where Ma Jingwu’s filming in Yunnan?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Rulong: “Why do you want to know?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Don’t ask.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Rulong scratched his head: “Fine. Ma’s wife, Teacher Li, is still at school—I’ll try to find out.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just as they were leaving, Abiao and Mei came back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They announced: “The winter break duty roster is out—we’re stuck on campus for the New Year.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming asked: “Will there be a holiday allowance?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua: “Allowance? Ha!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhao Debiao: “He means they might add an egg to breakfast. That’s it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua: “The upside? We get an early winter break. We can leave in two days.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Biaozi: “Ming-ge, I’m gonna miss you. But Peking University’s too far—we probably won’t see each other till after New Year.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming patted their shoulders: “When mealtime comes, grab a spot at the Changzheng canteen. If Feng-ge is there, invite him too. We’ll eat together when we get back.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing this, their moods lifted, though they felt a bit awkward, and asked if Wei Ming needed anything copied—no payment needed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No, no, we’re off!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming and Along rode for an hour and a half to No. 21, Dongsi North 12th Lane, the “Children’s Literature” editorial office.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the real driving force behind this publication was “China Children’s Publishing House,” directly under the Communist Youth League Central Committee—the nation’s only state-level professional publisher of children’s literature.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Name must be exact: omit “China,” and you get “Children’s Publishing House,” another powerful children’s publisher in Shanghai. So besides “Children’s Literature” staff, a publisher editor would also be involved.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This meeting mainly settled the financial terms.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For Liu Rulong: the original 28 illustrations, plus 12 new ones—each scene specified by them—total 40 black-and-white drawings, ten yuan each, 400 yuan lump sum.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Rulong swallowed hard. Holy shit—he’d hit the jackpot!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming thought: with 40 illustrations, this book won’t be cheap. The publisher’s making a killing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for Wei Ming: 38,000 characters of text, plus a preface to reach 40,000. Ten yuan per thousand characters—400 yuan base royalty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Also!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Royalty based on print run: two percent of the base royalty for every ten thousand copies printed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Meaning, if the book prints 500,000 copies, he gets another 400 yuan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not comparable to royalties, but still a huge leap from last year.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Coincidentally, China Children’s Publishing House set the first print run at 500,000 copies—Wei Ming could walk away with 800 yuan at once!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If they reprint later, no need to pay base royalty again—just the reprint royalty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lü Xiaoyan said: “Aming, should you get someone to write a preface? The publisher covers preface fees too.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming smiled: “I’m greedy. Can I ask for two?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh? Who do you want? Know any senior writers?” Aunt Xiao Yan asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“One is Professor Qu Yude from Peking University—she helped me a lot writing this novel. And the other…” Wei Ming looked at Editor Jin, “I’d be honored if Editor Jin would write one. I grew up reading your works.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The soon-to-retire Old Jin chuckled: “Don’t mind if my writing feels outdated. But since you’re writing your own preface, too many prefaces would be excessive—I’ll write the afterword instead.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An afterword comes at the end.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming bowed: “Editor Jin, your integrity shines!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So it was settled. Old Jin then chatted with Wei Ming about “The Game of the Brave,” praising the fresh new story, calling the young man truly promising.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Along: “Wait, you’ve got a new work already?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming smacked his forehead: “Editor Lü, can I take the manuscript back so Along can read it first? He’s doing the illustrations.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Fine. But bring it back quick.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the way back, Wei Ming said: “Don’t read novels while cycling.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But your novel’s insane!” Along rode with one hand, reading with the other. “Fine, I’ll read it at the canteen.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By the time they reached the Changzheng Canteen, it was mealtime, and Biao and Mei had waited over half an hour: “Feng Ge went into the city to see his wife again—just the four of us.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Keep an eye on things—I’ll chat with Long about the illustration style for the new novel.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once the dishes arrived and a few cups of wine were down, Mei Wenhua suddenly grew warm with Long: “Long, you’re from Guangzhou—tell me, are people there all good at business?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Rulong: “Yeah, it used to be a treaty port with lots of trade—everyone’s got sharp minds.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhao Debiao: “Is it really like gold is everywhere, just lying on the ground waiting to be picked up?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Rulong: “Not that extreme, but if you bring back scarce goods from there to Yanjing, you can easily make a hundred percent profit.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua: “So will you go back home for winter break?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua: “Then if you bring some goods over, you’d get rich, right?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Long grinned foolishly: “I think drawing’s got more potential.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua sighed: “You guys all have talent. Me and Biao don’t—making money’s just too hard for us.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming narrowed his eyes: “Xiao Mei, you’re acting weird tonight—just say what’s on your mind.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua and Zhao Debiao exchanged a glance, and he said: “Biao and I talked it over—we’ve got a month before the New Year, and we want to go to Guangdong to get some scarce goods and sell them back in Yanjing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Biao: “Yeah, we’re gonna make some money!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming hadn’t expected this—he guessed they’d been spurred on by his lavish lifestyle. He spoke solemnly: “You two don’t know the place or the language—it’s extremely risky going there.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua patted Liu Rulong on the shoulder: “Who says we don’t know anyone? We’ve got Long.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Rulong shook his head: “I don’t know anything about that stuff—I can only help as a translator.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “Exactly—who knows where to source goods or whether prices are inflated? He doesn’t know a thing. If you take him along, you’re bringing three sheep—stupid and fat.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Xiao Mei and Biao exchanged a glance, disappointed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Rulong added: “But my cousin has some connections in Hong Kong—he might be able to help.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh?” Both lit up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “Your cousin’s connections in Hong Kong—aren’t they your dad?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No, my cousin has a cousin-in-law in Hong Kong—he’s a truck driver hauling goods from Hong Kong to Shenzhen. He really has connections.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua: “Yes, yes, that’s exactly the kind of connection we need!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming asked Long: “Is your cousin reliable? Won’t he rip off outsiders?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Long: “He’ll definitely try to rip us off—but if I say we’re brothers, it should be fine.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua and Zhao Debiao quickly raised a cup to Long and called out, “Long Ge!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming sighed, raised his cup too: “Biao, bring your gear. Xiao Mei, stay sharp. Here’s to you getting rich.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With Wei Ming’s support, Mei and Biao’s confidence soared.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They even shouted, “This trip to Guangdong—next time we’re going to Hong Kong!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Long gave a bitter smile—he thought of his father. Hong Kong wasn’t that easy to make it in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hong Kong Island, Central and Western District, a shantytown on Gao Street, Sai Wan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One dilapidated wooden house sold everyday sundries, called “Zhou’s General Store.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The daughter, in seventh grade, came home from school with her backpack—a slightly chubby girl who first asked her mother.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Mum, any letters?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No,” her mother, interrupted while balancing accounts, snapped, “Min, go do your homework—don’t go out to play, understood?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Okay~” She leaned half her body out and waved in one direction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",2355,"2026-06-19T16:30:57.111Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","6734f2773c388c65e21a15d19d82a5ec475e936bcd6a6febd6514cc780a2c9fc","rising-in-1979-chapter-121","rising-in-1979-chapter-119",509,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Frising-in-1979-cover.jpg"]