[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-rising-in-1979":3,"chapter-rising-in-1979-rising-in-1979-chapter-184":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},2260892,4412,"Chapter 184: Big Ma, Little Ma, Lei Zi, Dong Zi All Cry","rising-in-1979-chapter-184",184,"\u003Cp>Seeing Uncle Anping’s serious expression, Wei Ming dared to ask: “Did someone demote you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Get lost—it’s a lateral transfer, lateral transfer.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He told Wei Ming: “The school has decided to establish a Production Management Office, and I’ll be its director, directly under the president’s authority.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming’s expression brightened: “That’s great news—you’ll finally be running your own show!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Previously, the Director of the General Affairs Office was more like a head steward; now, he’s practically a minor warlord.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Uncle Anping remained serious: “Moving to a new post all of a sudden? I’m still not used to it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So what exactly does this new position do?” Wei Ming asked again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It manages the school’s enterprises—in plain terms, it’s about making money.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was precisely why Uncle Anping was worried: though being given independent authority signaled promotion, he’d never done anything like this before.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Funding has always been a major problem for universities—even elite institutions like Qingbei constantly complain about insufficient funds: equipment needs money, talent needs money, buildings need money, staff benefits need money, sending students abroad needs money—there’s never enough.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In Wei Ming’s past life, when he returned to Beijing in the 1990s, Uncle Anping wasn’t in the Production Management Office—he’d either been transferred or this world’s butterfly effect had changed things.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he knew that when Uncle Anping retired, he’d only reached the deputy department level, enjoying department-level benefits, and never becoming vice president was his regret.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now, in this life, if he could shine in this new role, he might have a chance to advance further.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So on the journey from Beijing to Xi’an, the uncle and nephew focused on how universities could commercialize research results to make money.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I think computers are definitely the future trend—I’ve heard from my overseas student friends about how thriving the computer market is abroad, especially in America.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Apple was founded in ’76!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Microsoft was founded in ’75!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>IBM was founded in ’11, and next year they’re launching personal computers!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This market is about to enter the blue ocean!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I can see you’re bullish on this direction—you mentioned that big-data-powered smart brain in ‘Black Cat Detective.’”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Yeah, but that’s still too far off—decades away from tangible results. Right now, if Professor Wang Xuan’s Chinese laser typesetting system can be commercialized, the prospects will be excellent. Our current publishing efficiency is too slow, costs are too high, and quality is poor—there’s huge room for improvement, and that’s where the profit lies in laser typesetting.\" [28] Of course, universities don’t rely solely on computers to generate revenue—research in biology, chemistry, and physics all have commercial potential—but computers are currently at the forefront, capable of soaring higher and farther, more visible, and easier to demonstrate tangible results.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Future Peking University Founder Group was built on this technology; though the school-run enterprise eventually failed, its first decade was extremely prestigious—getting it out early could become Uncle Anping’s stepping stone to promotion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And though Wei Ming isn’t a researcher, he at least understands future trends in computing and the internet—he can offer advice, and maybe this school-run enterprise will thrive and avoid its future embarrassing fate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Maybe one day Uncle Anping will directly replace Liu Chuanzhi as the godfather of Chinese entrepreneurs, worshipped by Da Ma, Xiao Ma, Lei Zi, and Dong Zi!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So Wei Ming next brought up the importance of “Han Cards” in this era—another benefit of auditing classes: though he didn’t understand them deeply, he could bluff well enough.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Uncle Anping was a computer illiterate—he’d heard of laser typesetting since it was the school’s flagship project—but he didn’t know what Han Cards were, so he quickly pulled out a small notebook and took notes—every word was knowledge!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, universities don't just rely on computers to make money—research in biology, chemistry, and physics also has commercial potential—but computers are currently at the forefront, capable of soaring higher and farther, being more visible, and yielding results more easily.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Uncle Anping understood this, so he listened intently and decided to strengthen his learning in this area upon returning to school.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He joked: “You’ve got some sharp insights—how about I get you transferred into the Production Management Office?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Can I take leave whenever I want?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Well then, you’d better stay in the school publication office,” Uncle Anping chuckled, shaking his head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming slacking off elsewhere didn’t matter, but if he became his own subordinate, Uncle Anping couldn’t afford to be too lenient with him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming knew he’d say that.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But then he suddenly thought of something.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Now that you’re no longer in the General Affairs Office, will it be harder for me to get transferred?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Don’t worry,” Wei Anping smiled. “I already spoke to Librarian Xie at the library—if you get into their correspondence program, I’ll transfer you there after the semester starts. You can learn while you work.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The library has many students and many books—some jobs are very busy, but others are extremely idle, like the Rare Books Room where Wei Ming used to work: few people went there, so workload was minimal, and most visitors were professors—perfect for slacking off and writing novels.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for completely leaving Peking University to become a free agent? Not yet. Without an institutional affiliation, life outside is too inconvenient.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Besides, Wei Ming is now Peking University’s golden brand, and the university supports him in every way—they mutually benefit and elevate each other, and things are still good.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming had already traveled this Beijing-to-Xi’an route once before, so every stop felt familiar—even the cafeteria car staff were familiar faces.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the train, he met some interesting people: a foreign couple boarded in Taiyuan, claiming to be American, carrying two bottles of vinegar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since reform and opening, more foreigners were traveling in China, but mostly concentrated in Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, and Guilin—few came to Taiyuan, and these two barely spoke Chinese, didn’t bring a translator, and didn’t even know where this train was taking them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pretty avant-garde—they were playing travel blind boxes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only after boarding did Wei Ming tell them their final stop was Xi’an, and introduced them to Xi’an’s cuisine and the world-famous Terracotta Warriors of Qin Shi Huang.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The American couple were thrilled—upon hearing Wei Ming spoke English, they insisted he be their translator and even offered him foreign exchange coupons.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming naturally had no time for that—they’d transfer trains in Xi’an to head to Gansu.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But guests were guests—they were here to spend money—so Wei Ming wrote them some bilingual sticky notes for when communication failed. After arriving, they didn’t leave the station—they bought tickets for the next train right away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shandan County, Zhangye Region, is in central Gansu.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It has vast grasslands and was one of the filming locations for the movie “The Herdsman.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lu Xiaoyan had already learned her husband, daughter, and eldest nephew were coming to visit, and shared the news with Gong Ying.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The news came as a surprise to Gong Ying—she hadn’t seen Wei Ming in months; those months had aged her like a married mother.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After filming the scene where the female lead first meets the male lead, the director told her to channel the feeling of a mother—so she stopped caring for her skin, and the northwest wind had already roughened it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But it was too late to change now—she was still in character, so she had to maintain this state.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After finishing the morning shoot, afternoon lighting was unsuitable, so they wrapped early and returned to the guesthouse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One major reason filming was so slow now was weather dependency—sometimes they couldn’t get a single usable shot in a whole day.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another was the lack of monitors—after filming, they didn’t know the actual result, so reshoots were frequent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus, even though Gong Ying’s scenes were nearly finished, she’d still have to stay until the director confirmed everything was okay.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Xi Zi, being a child, was spared the hardship—he could go home with his mother after filming his final scene.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Xi Zi declared: “Director, you just don’t understand me!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the guesthouse, Xi Zi stayed with both mothers; with the final scene about to be shot, Lu Xiaoyan spoke to Gong Ying, who held Xi Zi.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their relationship had grown very close over this time—they were practically like sisters.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lu Xiaoyan knew that after this scene, Gong Ying’s part would be finished, and she’d return to Beijing with the crew—the movie still had many Beijing scenes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So when you get back to Beijing, will you return to your unit?” Lu Xiaoyan was thinking about staying close to Xiao Xue—such a beautiful girl, gentle personality, perfect to balance her out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gong Ying: “That was the plan, but Shanghai Film Studio has offered me another film.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Lead role?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gong Ying nodded—lots of scenes—so after reporting back to her unit in Beijing, she’d have to return to Shanghai.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lu Xiaoyan sighed: “So you’ll transfer your affiliation back to Shanghai Film Studio?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gong Ying hesitated: “I don’t get to decide—it depends on whether Shanghai Film Studio wants me, and whether the theater troupe will let me go.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her dilemma wasn’t about lack of control—it was whether to return to Shanghai or stay in Beijing; she didn’t know what she’d choose when the decision was truly hers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>While she was still wrestling with this, someone knocked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was the film’s executive assistant director, Huang Shuqin—she was Xie Jin’s protégé, having followed him since “Ah! Cradle.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Comrade Lu, your husband’s here—he’s waiting downstairs.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, finally!” Lu Xiaoyan sighed—she’d been waiting since the phone call, two full days.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She dropped her son and rushed downstairs; Gong Ying followed behind, wanting her to take the boy—but it was too late.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon after, Huang Shuqin brought over a little girl for Gong Ying to watch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The girl wasn’t unfamiliar to Gong Ying—Xi Zi’s younger sister, Le Le—she’d held her before.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Le Le, do you remember Auntie?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Where’s the auntie? There’s only you, big sister,” Le Le said sweetly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gong Ying dramatically covered her mouth, then brought Le Le inside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then she asked: “Why are you up here alone?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Le Le said: “Mommy said she wants to talk to Daddy.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gong Ying wanted to ask, what about the others? She remembered there was an older brother too.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The older brother was now with Director Xie Jin, reviewing the final scene’s storyboard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming entered the film industry late—he didn’t yet understand 1980s filming techniques and had to start from scratch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(Happy New Year in advance! I’ll add another chapter tomorrow—also, there’s a red packet in the group!)\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1756,"2026-06-19T16:30:57.111Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","e573f9bd9a4912a777538c465b14e7da17aa89fd3f2324130e34b823fc30e6fd","rising-in-1979-chapter-185","rising-in-1979-chapter-183",509,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Frising-in-1979-cover.jpg"]