[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-rising-in-1979":3,"chapter-rising-in-1979-rising-in-1979-chapter-158":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},2260866,4412,"Chapter 158: The Fat Kid Liang Zuo Provokes Brother Wei (Special Bonus Chapter for Patron Wuse!)","rising-in-1979-chapter-158",158,"\u003Cp>Wei Ming and Ah Long wandered to Dongdan, thinking they might as well have dinner there before heading back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The location was ideal, just a few steps from Peking Union Medical College Hospital’s East Campus and Wangfujing Pedestrian Street, with a major shopping center like Oriental New World set to open in the future.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They found a restaurant tucked in an alley; no sooner had they sat down than Wei Ming spotted a man riding a bicycle who stopped outside and glanced curiously at his motorcycle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The man entered and was immediately greeted by others—clearly a longtime neighbor of the area.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There were no empty tables left except the one occupied by Wei Ming and Ah Long, which still had room.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He looked over, grinning, and asked if he could join them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing the familiar face, Wei Ming smiled: “Of course, please sit.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some in the restaurant called him “Brother Li,” others called him “Guangfu.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was Li Guangfu, Wei Ming’s old colleague from the People’s Art Theatre in his past life; Wei Ming always called him Old Li, fifteen years his senior.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It wasn’t surprising to meet him here—Old Li’s family lived right here, in a second courtyard of a Sihe Academy on Beijige Third Alley, the entire compound belonging to them; Wei Ming had even been a guest in his home in his past life.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though Old Li was only thirty-four now, he had over twenty years of acting experience, having entered the People’s Art Theatre’s actor training class at thirteen and remained there ever since; though he’d never played major roles, his acting was vivid and natural.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Later, he became widely known through TV roles like “Zhengyangmen Xia: Po Lao Hou,” “Qingman Sihe Academy: Da San Ye,” and “The People’s Name: Zheng Xipo.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Rulong didn’t recognize him and continued their earlier conversation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you buy a house in this area, your commute to work will be way too far.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming nodded: “Yeah, I’d still prefer Xicheng or Haidian—closer to Peking University—but I don’t have enough money yet, just browsing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then Wei Ming turned to Li Guangfu: “Brother, how much would a small courtyard like this sell for around here?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Guangfu had just ordered and sat down, surprised that this young man would casually ask him—a stranger—about buying property.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, I can’t say for sure—haven’t heard of anyone buying or selling houses—but I’d guess it’d cost at least ten thousand yuan, given the location.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though cautious in his answer, Li Guangfu was happy to chat, and soon Wei Ming learned he worked at the People’s Art Theatre as an actor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The People’s Art Theatre is a top unit—every actor there is top-notch,” Wei Ming raised his thumb. “Back then, I even met Mr. Cao Yu and Old Master Yu Shizhi, and took photos with them.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh my, those are our two former directors!” Li Guangfu was astonished—never expected this kid to have ties to the theatre.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Have you come to watch our plays?” he asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming shook his head: “I met them at the Great Hall of the People during a meeting.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the Great Hall? A meeting?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming’s tone carried the casual, unbothered arrogance of an old Beijinger, but Li Guangfu thought this kid was too young to have such connections.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Are you here for a meeting too?” he switched to respectful address.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes, I’m a delegate of the Writers Association.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh my, you’re a writer? A writer…” Li Guangfu suddenly paused, thinking. “Lately I heard a young writer’s name—Wei—same hometown as our troupe’s Lan Tianye.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming smiled: “That’s me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing him confirm it, Li Guangfu immediately bowed in mock astonishment: “I never expected to meet the real thing!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Brother, you’re flattering me—I’m just a beginner in literature. This is my classmate, Liu Rulong from the Film Academy.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Guangfu asked: “Studying acting?” He didn’t look like it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Rulong: “I’m in the animation class.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh my, animation’s great—keeps your childlike heart, and those with childlike hearts age slowly and live long,” Li Guangfu knew how to flatter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then he pointed outside at the motorcycle: “That’s yours too, Brother Wei?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming nodded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Big move!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming waved it off: “I live near Peking University, but I keep coming into the city for convenience. Now that I’ve met Brother Li, I’ll definitely come see your plays at the People’s Art Theatre.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’d better watch closely, or you might miss it in a blink.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Brother Li, you’re joking—haha, let’s eat together!” Now they were truly sharing a table—and sharing the dishes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming was delighted—he’d bumped into Li Guangfu today, so future visits to his old workplace would have purpose; but Dan Dan, Wang Xiaoji, Little Liang the fat kid, and Brother Pu probably hadn’t joined the People’s Art Theatre yet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After dinner, they walked out into the dark, and Li Guangfu invited them to his home to see where he lived.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Next time you come to Dongdan, be sure to drop by—let’s chat properly then.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Haha, definitely, definitely—I’ve got plenty of old Beijing knowledge I’d love to learn from you, Brother Li—you’re the expert.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming dropped Ah Long off at the Film Academy; Ah Long sighed: “For the first time, I felt going into the city was easy!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before, his trip into the city took over two hours each way—five hours total. Riding a bike or taking the bus took about the same time; biking was more tiring, the bus was easier, but unreliable—if you missed the last bus, you were screwed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After dropping him off, Wei Ming said: “If our comics really make it big in Hong Kong, not just motorcycles—cars will be waving at us too!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their eyes met—both brimming with ambition.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then Wei Ming returned to the South Gate and saw Liu Zhenyun and Liang Zuo. Neither was a freshman; he didn’t know how they’d ended up together.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Zhenyun grinned: “Brother Liang says he’s suddenly learned to write poetry and just has to show it off to you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What’s so impressive about writing poetry? Even Mei Wenhua, who’s barely literate, writes poems.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hey, I’m right here!” Mei Wenhua was wiping the motorcycle with a cloth—Wei Ming had told him to take care of the bike, and now he could ride it anytime.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming smiled: “You know me, Mei—I never speak ill of people behind their backs.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua: So you just stab people to their face instead!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liang Zuo’s glasses glinted: “What if I wrote a poem in seven steps?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh~” Wei Ming exclaimed. “Liang, you’ve improved this much over winter break?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liang Zuo preened: “A scholar’s progress in three days warrants a new look—give me a theme, I’ll write you a poem right now.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming thought: “Then write ‘Ideal’—my first poem was on that theme.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Zhenyun clapped: “Perfect! I doubt anyone can surpass Mingge’s ‘Ideal’—Brother Liang, go ahead, I’ll count your steps.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liang Zuo began walking slowly inside the guardhouse—and finished seven steps in less than half a minute.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He added: “I didn’t say I’d surpass Mingge’s ‘Ideal’—just that I write fast.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Zhenyun: “Hurry up already—I think you’re stalling.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liang Zuo cleared his throat:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you write about ideal, don’t just write ideal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Write confusion, write reckless determination, write inner struggle and others’ misunderstanding.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Write fierce passion, yet sleepless nights.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Write solitude, write freedom and soul, write loneliness and worry beneath a single lamp…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liang Zuo couldn’t go further, so he stopped—still, it counted as a poem.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Zhenyun stroked his chin: “Hmm, kind of interesting.” Not profound, but fast.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming chuckled: More than kind of interesting!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He told Liang Zuo: “Your skills have clearly improved—now write another, this time on Peking University.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was perfect for Liang Zuo—he didn’t need seven steps, he’d already written it!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still, he pretended to walk three steps, then said:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you write about Peking University, don’t just write Peking University.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Write the weeping willows by Weiming Lake, write the ancient majesty of Boya Tower.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Write the stormy winds of the Red Building a century ago, the clarion call of the New Culture Movement, the sparks of thought colliding here, illuminating the era’s confusion!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Zhenyun finally realized something was off: “Your poems all follow the same pattern!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liang Zuo laughed, slapping his thigh: “Because this pattern works so well! Just name a theme, and you instantly have a poem.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Zhenyun thought about it—yeah, it actually made sense; he felt he could write one himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Who came up with this idiotic formula?” Liu Zhenyun asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming sneered: “How am I the idiot?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, this… this is your invention?” Liu Zhenyun gasped. “That’s genius! Now teachers won’t have to worry about me not writing poetry anymore!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then Liang Zuo pulled out a copy of “Stars” Poetry Magazine and found Wei Ming’s poem “Chengdu.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“One of our classmates from Sichuan brought this back from home—he wrote over ten poems using this formula on the train ride. When we saw the first one, we thought it was amazing—but when we saw ten more like it, we were stunned. Only then did we realize the source was you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “I was warmly hosted by an editor from ‘Stars’ in Chengdu, so I wrote a poem in thanks—just something I dashed off.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liang Zuo laughed: “Your ‘dashed-off’ poem? Now everyone in our class has a few ‘Chengdu-style’ poems—even Old Chen copied one.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming never imagined his random little poem had gone viral, even earned the nickname “Chengdu Style”—now, even a dog could write poetry after learning it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That night in the dorm, Mei Wenhua decided to return to poetry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you write about youth, don’t just write youth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Write… write…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Biaozi, seeing him stuck for ages, pounded the bed and roared with laughter: “Mei, save your breath—you’re not cut out for this.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua sighed: “I think I’m better suited for business. Biaozi, isn’t it mostly me doing the negotiating when we go south to make money? Isn’t my contribution bigger?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Biaozi didn’t deny it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua: “I’ll go back south again someday—I can’t accept this!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Biaozi also wanted to make money: “Now that school’s started, we can take another short break.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming said: “Wait a bit—I might join you south.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(Requesting monthly votes!)\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1718,"2026-06-19T16:30:57.111Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","98df63d8fe037a9a79a7a7bbb7a57e778194736e770c4205f741fe975a54a4c6","rising-in-1979-chapter-159","rising-in-1979-chapter-157",509,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Frising-in-1979-cover.jpg"]