[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-rising-in-1979":3,"chapter-rising-in-1979-rising-in-1979-chapter-122":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},2260830,4412,"Chapter 122: Wei Ming: Am I Going to Earn Foreign Exchange? (Guaranteed Second Update)","rising-in-1979-chapter-122",122,"\u003Cp>The BBC’s proactive approach to seeking cooperation with the Shanghai Animation Film Studio greatly surprised its senior leadership and revealed to them another way to earn foreign exchange.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Previously, the Shanghai Animation Film Studio could earn foreign exchange for the state primarily by submitting its own works to international film festivals, winning awards, and selling them abroad.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet while it had accumulated many honors, the profits were never substantial, and no one believed cultural products could shoulder the heavy burden of earning foreign exchange for the nation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Last year, the Shanghai Animation Film Studio inked lines and colored over 7,000 frames for Japan’s Toei Animation’s “Space Battleship Yamato” series.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This collaboration was merely a trial under the broader context of Sino-Japanese friendship; it earned some foreign exchange, but that was all—it yielded no prestige, since the work belonged to Japan, and it disrupted their own production schedule.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But this British collaboration might well bring both fame and fortune!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The British would provide the foreign exchange; the Shanghai Animation Film Studio would supply personnel and technical expertise, using traditional Chinese mythological themes—if the British could successfully launch it internationally, they would gain both substance and prestige!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus, Director Te Wei urgently convened a senior meeting, even inviting Mr. Wan Chaochen, the third brother of the Wan family.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before his retirement, he had been the studio’s deputy director of technology; his twin brothers, Mr. Wan Laiming and Mr. Wan Guchan, were both already in their eighties.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The meeting first confirmed that cooperation was feasible with no policy barriers; if successful, they could forge a path to finance their own films with foreign capital while expanding their international influence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But one point.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Quality must not be compromised—we must retain absolute creative control over the content,” said one deputy director. “Many foreign animations today prioritize efficiency over craftsmanship and produce shoddy work. We cannot tarnish the Shanghai Animation Film Studio’s reputation.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Gentlemen,” Director Te Wei said, “let’s first review the script. We had it hastily translated, and some parts may be inaccurate—please circulate it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet as they began reading the script, the key figures at the meeting fell silent. What the hell was this?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Indeed, expecting foreigners to understand Chinese mythology was a fantasy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The screenwriter likely wasn’t entirely ignorant—he might have been a foreigner with some study of Chinese mythology, or a Chinese who had lived in China only briefly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The script opened directly with Nüwa mending the sky, then indiscriminately fused myths and legends from every era, even incorporating obscure supernatural novels like “Pingyao Zhuan,” yet it had no focus whatsoever—how could anyone possibly film this?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the end, everyone agreed: cooperation was acceptable, but this script was unacceptable—it must be completely rewritten by the Shanghai Animation Film Studio.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Naturally, since the British wanted a mythological theme and the studio excelled in this genre, they would still focus on that.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Shanghai Animation Film Studio contacted the BBC, discussed it, and the British agreed to the proposal for a new script.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus, the studio resumed holding meeting after meeting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>……\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Children, children, don’t be greedy—after Laba, the New Year’s nears.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>January 25, 1980, Laba Festival—every cafeteria at Peking University distributed laba porridge in limited quantities.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming and Yang Hao left campus to cover the news that pork rations would be lifted for the upcoming Spring Festival; by the time they returned, the porridge was all gone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yang Hao grumbled: “Pork isn’t rationed anymore, yet laba porridge still is—hmph!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Wei Ming soon got to eat laba porridge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Back in the dorm, Feng Ge called him: “Xiao Ming, come here—your sister-in-law made laba porridge, come eat with us.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Your sister-in-law went all the way to deliver this—how could I possibly accept it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It’s not about whether you feel awkward,” he picked up a pot from the floor, “it’s that I simply can’t finish it all by myself!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh my, how much is this?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qiao Feng: “She forgot Xiao Mei and Biaozi aren’t here—I told her before. Isn’t it true that one…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming ladled porridge while waiting, but Feng Ge stalled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What’s the old saying?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qiao Feng strained his mind: “One pot can’t cook two kinds of food—see, I actually wanted millet porridge, but she only made eight-treasure porridge.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming chuckled as he ate: “Feng Ge, that’s a bit too much to ask. Two dishes in one pot? Only a split pot could do that.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now only the two of them lived in the dorm—it felt empty, and sometimes Feng Ge didn’t even come back to sleep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the advantage was that Wei Ming’s writing efficiency improved.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He usually drafted outlines in the office and did the actual writing back in the dorm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That evening, Wei Ming was again invited to Wei Anping’s home for dinner and laba porridge, where he saw Lu Xiaoyan soaking several jars of laba garlic in glass bottles—she said Director Wei liked them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Director Wei chuckled: “Yes, yes—I love laba garlic. The rest goes to your aunt.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What else was left?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The vinegar, of course.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lu Xiaoyan immediately pinched him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Xi Le hadn’t yet realized his parents were flirting, but Wei Ming, already mature, felt deeply wounded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I’ve just ended a soul-deep first love!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“By the way, how’s your preface coming along?” Lu Xiaoyan delivered a second blow. Wei Ming quickly hid his expression behind his bowl—he’d forgotten in the rush of writing his novel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Almost done, almost done—I won’t delay anything,” he deflected.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Back in the dorm, Feng Ge was gone again—he was working overtime on his novel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was another novella, already over fifty thousand words, nearly finished—his longest work to date.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He divided the novel into several chapters.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The first chapter was titled “Where Is Spring?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now he was writing the final chapter, titled “On the Fields of Hope.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The next day, Wei Ming met Teacher Gu Jianfen—she came to say goodbye.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since students were busy with final exams and winter break was approaching, her off-campus music instruction was temporarily suspended, so she decided to return home and prepare for the New Year.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before leaving, she gave Wei Ming a musical score she had composed for “The Girl Who Picked Mushrooms.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming could now read sheet music—he sang along: “The girl who picks mushrooms, carrying a large bamboo basket…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Teacher Gu looked slightly disdainful: “You’re a six-foot-tall young man singing ‘barefoot through the forest and hills at dawn’—you should let Xiao Le sing this.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming was thoroughly satisfied—though two years early, it matched the original exactly. He planned to use this song in his new novel as a chapter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Previously, Wei Ming had already published the lyrics of this song, as well as “Where Is Spring?”, in “Lyrics Magazine.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now he had written two more: “Little Grass” and “Planting the Sun”—both works from three or four years in the future—which he had already submitted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming handed the lyrics to Teacher Gu: “Take a look. I’ll come to your place another day—we’ll discuss the composition together.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Teacher Gu marveled: “You write songs too fast! And your styles vary so wildly—‘Little Grass’ is so bleak, yet ‘Planting the Sun’ is so bright.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “Writers and musicians alike have complex, shifting emotions. When I wrote the tragic scenes of my novel, I got ‘Little Grass’; when I wrote the uplifting parts, I got ‘Planting the Sun.’”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gu Jianfen was curious: “What’s your novel about?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming gave a brief summary: “It’s the story of a music teacher and a group of children—music is a vital part of the novel.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No wonder you came to learn music from me—I thought it was just a hobby.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I am genuinely interested—otherwise I wouldn’t have written this novel, or I’d have made the male lead a teacher of another subject. I believe music holds tremendous power.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Teacher Gu asked: “What kind of power does music hold in your novel?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming replied calmly: “It soothes pain and nourishes the soul.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had great confidence in this novel and planned to finish it by month’s end to submit it to “People’s Literature”—they had already sent him an invitation, and recently even dispatched an editor who said he was passing through to check on him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Upon hearing the novel’s theme, the editor became very interested and said: “If you can finish in time, we’ll publish it in February—perfectly timed for after the Spring Festival!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When Wei Ming returned to the South Gate guard post at the end of the day, he saw Lu Xiaoyan arriving with Xi Le—no doubt she had come for him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s just a preface—I’ll finish it tonight, no matter what!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But she wasn’t talking about that.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Xiao Ming, wonderful news!” Lu Xiaoyan excitedly gripped Wei Ming’s shoulders.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Auntie, no matter how big the news, please let go—I need my arms tonight.” No wonder Xi Le feared his mother—she had such a strong grip.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, oh, oh—I tell you, you won’t believe it: this afternoon, the Shanghai Animation Film Studio called our editorial office—they want to consult you about adapting ‘The Legend of the Heavenly Book’!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming asked: “Aren’t they short on funds?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lu Xiaoyan: “Yes, they’re broke—but this time, it’s not them paying. It’s foreign money—something called… oh yes, the BBC.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At this, she paused: “You really do have a connection with Britain.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But this BBC contact had nothing to do with Melinda—originally, the “Legend of the Heavenly Book” project had been greenlit precisely because the British side had proactively approached them for cooperation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Auntie, tell me more—what happened?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lu Xiaoyan: “Basically, the British provided a script, the Shanghai Animation Film Studio wasn’t satisfied, so they wanted to revise it. As they revised, they noticed a section from ‘Pingyao Zhuan’ was quite good. Then someone pointed out that ‘The Legend of the Heavenly Book’ was itself adapted from ‘Pingyao Zhuan.’ After reading your novel, several directors and deputy directors all agreed the story was excellent—why not just adapt yours? The British side heard the plot summary and agreed. Now they’re waiting for you to write the script!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming nodded—he’d heard from Ah Long that in the original timeline, the British eventually withdrew funding for unknown reasons, but the script had already been written and wasn’t wasted—the film was still produced as a purely domestic animation, continuing the style of “The Monkey King: Uproar in Heaven” and “Nezha Conquers the Dragon King.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His mind raced—though the Shanghai Animation Film Studio wouldn’t earn foreign exchange, could he use this opportunity to earn some himself?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>……\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1755,"2026-06-19T16:30:57.111Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","5059ade5042df2ea1636ed5d9e52d678494276a1b044d13ab1ae8e42c9af4c5d","rising-in-1979-chapter-123","rising-in-1979-chapter-121",509,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Frising-in-1979-cover.jpg"]