[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-rising-in-1979":3,"chapter-rising-in-1979-rising-in-1979-chapter-177":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},2260885,4412,"Chapter 177: Casting (Guaranteed First Update)","rising-in-1979-chapter-177",177,"\u003Cp>Liu Rulong was away for several days; two days ago he called, and Wei Ming thought he was coming back, but it turned out the deal fell through—he planned to try Tianjin People’s Art Publishing House, another major hub for serial comics, where the “Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio” series was considered a classic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So Ah Long had returned from Tianjin without notifying Wei Ming.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing the noise, Ah Long opened his eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From his expression, Wei Ming knew the deal had fallen through—again, for the same reason.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Our drawing style differs from their traditional approach; the editors worry the engravers can’t handle it, or even if they can, the market won’t accept it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming sighed: “Ultimately, it’s just lack of ambition, unwillingness to change.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He comforted Ah Long: “Don’t worry—I still have connections in Shanghai. Give me the manuscripts, I’ll mail them over. Do you still have money? Pay your classmates first, don’t leave debts.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ah Long forced a smile: “I already paid them. Drawing illustrations for you’s been profitable.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming grinned: “Then draw the second chapter of ‘Black Cat Detective’—I’ve already written it. Finish it and submit it to ‘Children’s Literature’.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Alright, I won’t leave today.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Leave? It’s so late—just sleep on these reader letters.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The next morning, as soon as Ah Long left, Wei Ming mailed the manuscripts to Shanghai Film Studio, addressed to Gong Ying.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now it depended on whether Snow Sister’s mother could help—if mainland publishers still weren’t interested, they’d wait for the right moment and head straight to Hong Kong.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After sending the package to Snow Sister, Wei Ming began thinking about the letter to Amin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wrote four more songs, sticking to the old arrangement: nine-one split. He couldn’t let the girl work for free.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What Wei Ming now hesitated about was how to get the money into his own hands.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Four songs meant eight or nine thousand Hong Kong dollars—not a small sum. Carrying it in a package carried too much risk.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he asked Amin to wire it, it’d be safe, but he’d fear being unable to withdraw it in Hong Kong dollars; if he needed cash, he’d have to exchange it at the official rate into foreign exchange certificates.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So Wei Ming and Amin agreed: two thousand could be hidden in the package; the rest would be wired.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Afterward, Wei Ming went into town to buy the girl some snacks she liked, but Beijing’s material offerings were still sparse. The Friendship Store had plenty, but Amin could buy the same things in Hong Kong—it didn’t matter much.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After shopping, Wei Ming mailed the package directly from the city.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When he returned to the South Gate, the guard told him:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Brother Ming, a director’s looking for you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then a sturdy-looking middle-aged man leaned out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He smiled and waved at Wei Ming: “Mr. Wei, hello—I’m Wu Tianming from Xi Film Studio.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh! Director Wu, so nice to meet you!” They’d never met before, but this man was the patron of future directors like Zhang Yimou and Chen Kaige.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming parked his motorcycle and sat with Wu Tianming on a bench in the courtyard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Director Wu, is there a problem with the script?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh no, no problem!” Wu Tianming laughed. “I’m very satisfied—the title change was excellent. I came to Beijing to cast actors, and I took the chance to visit you. Oh, and I brought your royalty payment too.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing the thick envelope handed over, Wei Ming smiled: “No rush, no rush.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But his hands moved fast—he’d been waiting for this to settle down.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming had learned to judge by thickness—he could tell this was around 1,500 yuan, almost certainly exactly 1,500.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After this royalty payment, Wei Ming’s cash flow became over 13,000 RMB, 500 foreign exchange certificates, and over 4,000 Hong Kong dollars.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming then asked about casting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Mainly the roles of Niu Er and Jiu’er. Niu Er should look unattractive—weak-willed but stubborn. Jiu’er should be fiery, with healthy beauty. If she’s from Shandong, even better—but above all, acting skill matters most.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Actually, being from Shandong didn’t matter much—since the film would use Mandarin, no dialects.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Tianming came to Beijing to check actors from the Central Academy of Drama and Beijing Film Academy; though students, most were over twenty, even thirty—no one too young.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Also, Beijing Film Studio had one of the best actor reserves among the state studios—he wanted to see them too.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Speaking of Beijing Film Studio, Wei Ming suggested: “Liu Xiaoqing from Beijing Film Studio isn’t from Shandong, but she’s got enough fire, and her figure is full—perfect for Jiu’er.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though Wei Ming had ignored Liu Xiaoqing’s advances before, he kept things separate—she wasn’t right for “The Herdsman,” but she was perfect for Jiu’er.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Tianming laughed: “We’re thinking the same thing—I think Liu Xiaoqing fits too. But she’s a nationally famous actress now. I’m afraid I can’t convince her. So I’d like you, the famous writer, to come with me. Maybe seeing you’ll make her agree.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This old guy’s not trying to use a pretty-boy tactic, is he!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Wei Ming was planning to visit Beijing Film Studio anyway to check on “Heroes Born from Youth,” so he might as well go.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Alright, when do we go?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“How about now?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So Wei Ming wheeled out his motorcycle and gave Wu Tianming a ride to Beijing Film Studio. Wu Tianming praised the bike endlessly, clearly envious.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But when he heard Wei Ming bought it for 3,000 yuan, Old Wu lost interest—he’d rather ride the studio’s car, free of fuel costs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the way, Wei Ming discussed the male lead candidate with Wu Tianming—he had just arrived in Beijing and hadn’t yet found a suitable candidate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then tomorrow I’ll take a day off and accompany you to Beijing Film and Central Drama Academies.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Perfect!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At Beijing Film Studio, they happened to meet Old Chen Qiang—the father of Chen Pei. He was head of the actor troupe at Beijing Film Studio—perfect for borrowing actors.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming knew Chen Qiang; Chen Qiang had heard of Wu Tianming. He immediately invited them into his office.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You came at a bad time—Liu Xiaoqing just left for Sichuan-Chongqing to film ‘The Mysterious Buddha.’”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Tianming hurried to say: “No problem—our film’s still in pre-production, won’t start for months. Won’t interfere.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chen Qiang smiled: “I’ll ask for you. Has the male lead been decided?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew the novel “Two Bulls”—the female lead Jiu’er had little screen time; the male lead Niu Er was the soul. A hard role, but if played well, it’d shine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Tianming: “Not yet—we’re still searching.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chen Qiang hoped one of Beijing Film Studio’s male actors could take the role—provided it didn’t interfere with their own production schedule.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He began introducing Beijing Film Studio’s male actors.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>First he recommended Zhang Guomin—he was even from Hengzhou, like Wei Ming. Clearly, Beijing Film Studio was heavily infiltrated by Hengzhou people.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Tianming knew this actor—he’d starred in their own Xi Film Studio’s “Mist over the Goddess Peak.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming knew his daughter Zhang Yanyan better—she’d played in popular dramas like “The Legend of the Condor Heroes” and “The Story of Yanxi Palace.” As a young actress, she was criticized for not being beautiful enough for the lead role, but now in middle age, she radiated charm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Tianming wasn’t satisfied—he was too conventional-looking. Chen Qiang introduced a few others—all the same problem: too symmetrical.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Tianming said: “I’d like an actor with an unconventional face.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The only one like that is my son Peisi—he’s with the August 1st Film Studio.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming quickly said: “No need to go that extreme.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old Chen Qiang chuckled—his youngest son shared his face, so he’d probably only ever play minor villains.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As they talked, someone knocked and entered—a white-haired aunt. Wei Ming stood up to greet her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Aunt Yu, hello.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yu Lan thought a moment, then remembered: “Oh, little Wei Ming.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They’d met at the Literary Congress and even taken a photo together.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Tianming also knew Yu Lan—she and Chen Qiang were both among the “New China’s 22 Great Movie Stars.” Their photos once hung in nearly every cinema nationwide. Back then, they were young and radiant; now they were nearly sixty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing they needed actors with strong acting skills, from Shandong, and not conventionally handsome:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yu Lan clapped her hands: “What a coincidence! How perfect!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming asked: “Aunt Yu, do you have someone suitable?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yu Lan sat down: “I’ll recommend someone without hesitation—my nephew’s girlfriend, a Shandong actress from the PLA Art Troupe. She’s an excellent actor.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming and Chen Qiang both immediately thought of the same person.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chen Qiang exclaimed: “Oh, that young man acted brilliantly! Have you heard of the play ‘The September 13 Incident’?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming and Wu Tianming both nodded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chen Qiang said: “He played 101.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Tianming had read the reports—the newspaper photos of Li Jianjian’s portrayal had sent chills down his spine. He thought: his face was certainly unconventional.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn’t say it outright: “Won’t he be too old? We need someone under thirty.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yu Lan replied: “He’s only twenty-six. A very sincere young man.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With such high praise from the elders, Wei Ming and Wu Tianming decided to meet him—but they still wanted to check out Beijing Film and Central Drama Academies too.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Tianming’s business was done. Wei Ming still needed to see Director Wang.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yu Lan said: “Director Wang isn’t here—he’s hosting an Italian crew.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing “Italian,” Wei Ming instinctively thought of “The Last Emperor,” then realized the timing was wrong.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yu Lan explained: it was the TV series “Marco Polo”—they wanted to film in China and needed Beijing Film Studio’s cooperation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since that was the case, Wei Ming and Wu Tianming prepared to leave and would come another day.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming had assumed Wu Tianming was staying somewhere else—he’d actually booked a room at Beijing Film Studio’s guesthouse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Director Wu smiled: “At home, rely on parents; on the road, rely on fellow units.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming treated him to dinner outside Beijing Film Studio, then returned to campus, and they set a time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>First they went into town to the Central Academy of Drama, located on Dong Hua Miao Hutong.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>You know what? The Central Academy truly favored odd-looking actors—in no time, they’d spotted several men with strikingly unusual faces.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Tianming grinned at Wei Ming: “We came to the right place. I heard Beijing Film Academy picks students by looks—they probably don’t have what we want.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hey, what about that guy? A bit old—wonder if he’s a student or teacher.” Wu Tianming pointed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming looked at the face and laughed: “Let’s go ask.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1782,"2026-06-19T16:30:57.111Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","20b4058a2300c8f7afd37df217d6bdbeb8638f2ec549d57d7187bc947e06a58d","rising-in-1979-chapter-178","rising-in-1979-chapter-176",509,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Frising-in-1979-cover.jpg"]