[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-rising-in-1979":3,"chapter-rising-in-1979-rising-in-1979-chapter-181":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},2260889,4412,"Chapter 181: Make a Friend, the Literary Networking King (7,500 Monthly Votes Bonus)","rising-in-1979-chapter-181",181,"\u003Cp>In Wei Ming’s memory, Zhang Mingmin’s singing style was relatively old-fashioned, so he went to great lengths to choose songs for him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Dream Camel Bell” is by Fei Yüqing, widely known; “North Wind” is by Zhang Haozhe, a Korean singer in Taiwan—Zhang Mingmin should be able to handle it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He later added “Every Time I Want to Shout Your Name” by Li Shuquan and “That Wind, Flower, Snow, and Moon Affair” by Zhou Zhiping; though love songs, their singing styles were traditional, and love songs had broad appeal, so he included them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming had considered only Zhang Mingmin’s musical style, never expecting Ah Min to think so much—he’d even begun pondering how to subtly probe Ah Ming’s emotional state in his letters.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for his current emotional state?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still heartbroken, waiting for love.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Both older sisters treated him well, genuinely helping him when he needed it, but never showing any romantic interest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming was on the phone with Gong Ying, who told him the comics had passed the publisher’s review—once they gathered enough material for one volume, they could be published.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Xue-jie, did you know? My brother approached two publishers, and neither would publish him—turns out you really have clout. Thank you, and please thank your mom for me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“My mother doesn’t have final say—it’s really because your stories are excellent and your artwork is superb,” Gong Ying added. “Mr. Zhang Leping even said they’re great.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Mr. Zhang Leping who drew ‘Sanmao’?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d tell Ah Long later—he figured Ah Long would be overjoyed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Without delay, Wei Ming went straight to the Film Academy to find Liu Rulong and gave him the good news.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Next, Ah Long and his team must keep creating—“Heroes from Youth” could fill four or five comic volumes, enough to earn over a thousand yuan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Comics need scripts; directly using a novel or film screenplay wouldn’t work, so Wei Ming brought them the first script.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Wei Ming hoped Ah Long could independently write subsequent scripts in his own style—he learned quickly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After leaving the Film Academy, Wei Ming went to the Beijing Library to borrow books.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His Association of Writers membership card was still useful—he could borrow books ordinary readers couldn’t.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But many rare editions in the library couldn’t be checked out—he could only read them inside; they were ancient texts, and he had no immediate use for them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With the comics settled and several films on track, Wei Ming could focus on preparing his novel, and even had extra time beyond novel-writing and exams to handle his duties at the school magazine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That day, he and Yang Hao covered the visit and lecture by a four-member Italian delegation at Peking University.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming could manage a few phrases in French, but Italian? He couldn’t speak a word—he could only think of Sicilian flowers when hearing “Italy.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why did he suddenly feel so hungry again!?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>During May Day, he’d saved up a few days off—he planned to visit the set of “The Herdsman.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When he returned to the dormitory after work, Wu Tianming arrived—alone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming asked: “Didn’t my father come with you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Tianming chuckled: “Your father took three cows back to Gouzitun.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After finding Lao Wei, Wu Tianming brought him to the brigade office and asked him to repeat what he’d said at home.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then, before the village cadres and villagers, Wu Tianming, as a director of Xiyingchang, formally invited the special talent Wei Jiefang to assist in filming a movie.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He also assured him he wouldn’t be working for free.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If they could train obedient dairy cows, they’d save a lot of film stock and drastically cut production costs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then, amid the villagers’ envy and disbelief, Wei Jiefang was taken away by Wu Tianming.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu had learned there was a dairy farm near Beijing’s outskirts—they went straight there and found three cows with nearly identical color, size, and demeanor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All three had just given birth and were in lactation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They chose three for safety—if one refused to cooperate, the other two could serve as backups.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu hoped to start filming in July or August, when Liu Xiaoqing would have a break between two films.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Jiefang promised to train the cows within two months—and he’d personally join the shoot as the animal trainer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for payment, Lao Wei was generous.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“My son wrote that you, Old Wu, are a decent man—I won’t make demands. Just give me the same treatment as your crew, and the milk these three cows produce during this time is mine.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So, before Xiao Hong took her college entrance exam, she drank fresh milk every day—Lao Wei even bought a secondhand bicycle to deliver it to her school daily.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She couldn’t drink it all—her grandmother, cousin Yunyun, and mother all drank it too, though all milk was boiled first.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Tianming told Wei Ming: “The cow issue is resolved. Next, Xiyingchang will send someone to accompany me to Mount Yimeng for location scouting—we’ll part ways here.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wish you a safe journey, Director Wu.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Tianming had taken a few steps when he suddenly turned back and asked a question he’d held inside for a long time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Who exactly are you saving ‘The Spring of the Sheep Herding Class’ for? Director Xie Fei?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming shook his head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Tianming: “Then I understand.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After bidding farewell to Director Wu, as the bus pulled away, Wu Zuxiang rushed up holding a stack of books.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wait! Wait!” But the bus was already far off.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lao Wu looked at Wei Ming and suddenly grabbed his hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Free this afternoon?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What’s up?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Take me into the city.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re treating me like a motorbike taxi?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Zuxiang laughed: “I’m giving a lecture—I can’t be late.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Lecture?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming remembered an incident last month—this old man had asked him to join a writing class.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He thought: Why would I need to learn? I was busy then—I turned him down.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes, the one you’re thinking of—the fifth session of the Association of Writers’ Literature Workshop. They asked me to teach a few lessons on ‘Dream of the Red Chamber.’”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was the first literature workshop revived after the Cultural Revolution—the later Lu Xun Academy of Literature. Writers who reach a certain level now attend it as a necessary step for advancement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming had no intention of climbing the Association’s ladder, so he had no interest in joining—but he was interested in making friends.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These days, just having money wasn’t enough—you needed connections and personal networks, or you’d struggle to get anywhere.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming smiled: “Good thing I bought a new helmet recently—wait a moment.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, Wei Ming drove up on his motorcycle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man didn’t want to wear a helmet—he feared it would mess up his hair—but Wei Ming insisted: “I ride too fast. Wear it for safety.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the way, they talked about the literature workshop. Wei Ming asked: “Who’s attending? Anyone I know?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re certainly familiar with Jiang Zilong—he’s attending.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming was surprised: “He’s already in the Association—why join this?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Most attendees were potential Association members; Jiang Zilong was already famous and successful.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Zuxiang said: “Probably because of you. You two rose to fame almost simultaneously with reform literature—‘Director Qiao’ received higher praise than ‘The Duck’s First Knowledge,’ but over half a year later, he’s still stuck in reform literature, his influence fading, while you—you released your ‘Duck, Donkey, Cow, Horse, Sheep’ series—and no young writer comes close to you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lao Wu’s words made Wei Ming feel elated—he understood Jiang Zilong’s mindset: he likely wanted to break out of his comfort zone and explore broader literary horizons.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Have you heard of Jia Pingwa? From the Northwest group,” Wu Zuxiang asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course—I read ‘Full Moon.’ The Northwest writers are all formidable. I remember he’s an editor at ‘Chang’an’—last year he even sent me a commission letter.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Compared to Chen Zhongshi and Lu Yao, Jia Pingwa had less seniority and was younger—he’d only become a father last year, to a daughter named Qianqian.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To advance his literary path, he left his toddling daughter behind to study in Beijing—his dedication was admirable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The other writers had lower profiles and hadn’t published in national literary journals; Wu Zuxiang assumed Wei Ming didn’t know them and didn’t mention them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He told Wei Ming: “Actually, Xiao Wei, you’re right not to join this workshop—you’re young, but your knowledge and insight far surpass this generation of new writers. Why not let me apply to the Association to have you teach them?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The motorcycle jolted. Wei Ming pleaded: “Teacher Wu, spare me—I’m not even qualified to lecture others. That’d be a laughingstock. I’m only here to drop you off and make friends.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the Party School where the writers were being taught, Wei Ming left his motorcycle with the guard and carried Wu’s lesson materials into the classroom.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When the students saw them enter, they assumed Wu had brought an assistant—but writer Ye Wenling, who’d attended the same Writers’ Congress, immediately recognized Wei Ming.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then Jiang Zilong stood and bowed: “Brother Wei.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Brother Jiang, Sister Ye.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Zuxiang smiled, letting them get acquainted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Comrade Wei Ming, I’m Gu Hua.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hello, I’m Ye Xin.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Comrade Wei Ming, I’m Wang Anyi from Shanghai.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hello, I’m Aikebail·Mijiti, a young Kazakh from the Western Frontier.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming noted this young man from the Western Frontier—he’d have a local guide there someday. Too bad he hadn’t brought a camera this time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But a memorable dinner would still leave a deep impression on Wei Gongming.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After meeting everyone, Wei Ming smiled: “I came today just to drop off Professor Wu—I’m just the driver. But as a half-local in Beijing, after class, I’ll treat you all to dinner—bring your food coupons.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He hadn’t eaten out in the city for ages—he was craving it again, not counting the small eateries he’d eaten at with Wu Tianming.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing Wei Ming was treating everyone, the group erupted in excitement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only Professor Wu looked displeased—couldn’t you wait until after class? Who can concentrate now on talking about Bao, Chai, and Dai?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming added: “Professor Wu, you should come too.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Zuxiang: Oh, then it’s fine~\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1695,"2026-06-19T16:30:57.111Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","4ea7c8165f1a645041238e994e5167d0f92cb77a92aa88d402eefe4fd286933f","rising-in-1979-chapter-182","rising-in-1979-chapter-180",509,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Frising-in-1979-cover.jpg"]