Chapter 192: One Teapot, Four Cups (Please Vote for Monthly Tickets!)

"Called it off?"

Wei Ming quickly pulled Mu Rong aside and asked her to explain.

Mu Rong laughed: "Are you really that obvious about being happy?"

Wei Ming put on a sorrowful expression: "Am I? I'm clearly just saddened for Lin Jie!"

Mu Rong rolled her eyes and recounted what she'd learned from her former colleague.

"Actually, they'd already planned to get married during National Day this year—they're both past their prime, after all—but after Lin Jie started filming, she was separated from him for half a year with almost no communication. He started getting suspicious, since male actors in films are usually good-looking, and he suspected she'd fallen for someone on set."

Wei Ming: "She didn't even have any romantic scenes in this movie."

"But he didn't know that. Still, he didn't break up with her—he just demanded they get married sooner, get the certificate."

Wei Ming: "Lin Jie refused?"

"She did. She said she wanted to enroll in the film academy's part-time acting course."

This year, Beijing Film Academy began accepting part-time acting students. Zhu Lin had heard the news from Ma Jingwu and hoped to transition from amateur to professional.

Mu Rong said: "When he heard that, he panicked—he didn't really want Lin Jie to keep acting, but she was firm. They argued and argued until they broke up."

Wei Ming fell into thought: In his past life, Zhu Lin had also filmed this "Traitor," then formed a family and enrolled in Beijing Film Academy's part-time acting class.

But this time, the same experience turned out this way—the biggest variable must be me.

Maybe I used up too much of her energy writing letters, neglecting her fiancé's feelings.

As the saying goes, better to tear down a temple than ruin a marriage—how can I make it up to Lin Jie?

Mu Rong added: "And because of this, Lin Jie had a huge falling-out with her family—she's moved into the unit dorm now, the same place I used to live."

"Ah!" It had gotten this bad?

But then again, it made sense—a woman nearing thirty, finally ready to marry and settle down, yet obsessed with becoming an actress and going back to school.

Her parents probably suspected she'd gotten involved with someone on set.

Wei Ming shook his head: Lin Jie was pitiful now—he'd have to find her and talk some sense into her.

The message had been delivered; Mu Rong returned to the kitchen to help Lu Xiaoyan.

While washing vegetables, the two noticed a problem.

"You don't even have bowls, chopsticks, or plates—how are you going to cook or eat?" Mu Rong asked.

Wei Ming: "I used to have some, but I didn't want to use other people's dishes, so I threw them out."

Aunt Xiao Yan immediately scolded him for being wasteful.

But these things would come soon—shortly after, Zhao Debiao and Mei Wenhua returned, carrying two stacks of plates, bowls, and chopsticks—all brand new.

They'd bought them themselves as a housewarming gift for Ming Ge.

Aunt Xiao Yan glanced and praised: "Good! These plates even have double happiness characters on them."

Mei Wenhua smirked: "This style's expensive—we figured if we bought them now, Ming Ge won't need to buy new ones when he gets married."

Lu Xiaoyan laughed: "You're thinking ahead."

Soon after, Liu Zhenyun arrived—with his girlfriend Guo Jianmei and a man named Liang Zuo.

The chubby Liang Zuo came for the free meal, but he brought genuine goodwill: a color TV voucher from his family's unused stock as a gift for Wei Ming.

No wonder—he's the son of the deputy editor-in-chief of the People's Daily! His generosity was unmistakable!

Though Wei Ming had no money to buy a color TV now, this gift was still extremely valuable—he'd otherwise have to exchange foreign currency coupons at Friendship Store.

Liang Zuo sized up Wei Ming's new home: Awesome! Absolutely awesome! Not far behind his own family's place—he'd have to tell his mom, who also writes novels—how could the income gap be so huge?

Liu Zhenyun teased: "Liang Shixiong's gift is a TV voucher—mine is Liang Shixiong himself. Isn't that substantial?"

Guo Jianmei pinched him, then brought out their real gift from by the door.

Guo Jianmei had bought a pair of large red thermoses—the bright red matched the plates perfectly; he wouldn't need to buy new ones for his wedding.

Liu Zhenyun had bought a teapot with four teacups—he figured a modern literatus like Wei Ming must drink tea.

This reminded Wei Ming of Gu Hongming's famous remark about men, women, teapots, and teacups.

But four teacups seemed too few—there were so many guests today.

After Liu Zhenyun's trio, Liu Rulong arrived, carrying a large box: "Your building's security guard is really diligent—he checked what I was bringing."

"So what'd you bring? Not a TV, right?!" Biaozi asked, eyeing the box's square shape.

A Long: "I couldn't afford one, and I don't even have a voucher."

Liang Zuo: "I have one."

A Long: "…."

Wei Ming opened the box himself—it was a wooden carving: a black cat police chief riding a motorcycle, the same model as his own.

"I spent over two months making this in my spare time," A Long said. He'd planned to give it to Wei Ming on his birthday as a gift to the father of the Black Cat Police Chief.

Since today was Wei Ming's housewarming, he gave it early—hastily, so it wasn't painted yet, eyes not even added—but the form was lifelike, especially the motorcycle's details. "I'm giving it to you today, but I'll take it back—I'll bring it back after painting and polishing."

Wei Ming loved this gift—but the biggest admirer was Xi Zi, the Black Cat Police Chief's #1 fan, who immediately begged A Long to make him one.

"I don't want one this big—a smaller one's fine too."

A Long spread his hands: "I didn't bring wood or tools—next time, I promise next time."

"I brought some!" Xi Zi pulled a plastic bag from his mother's purse—inside was a huge lump of clay.

No wood, but clay—just mold it by hand. No problem for A Long—he couldn't help cook, so he'd help babysit.

He and the two kids began kneading clay in the bathroom.

Since there were two kids, he couldn't favor one—he made a Black Cat Police Chief for Xi Zi and planned to make Dan Sheng for Le Le.

Le Le was disgusted: Dan Sheng looked just like Xi Zi—she didn't want that—she'd rather have Little Nezha.

While A Long babysat, Wei Ming and the others debated who would cook. They finally agreed: everyone who could cook would prepare one signature dish—everyone would have a role.

Plus Wei Ming's pre-bought pork knuckle, pig's head, sausages, and other cooked meats—plenty enough.

!

Liu Zhenyun sighed: "I'm best at carp with noodles, but you've got no carp here—limits my skills. I'll just make braised noodles."

Guo Jianmei: "I'll make tomato and egg stir-fry."

Liang Zuo panicked—his only dish had been taken—but he wasn't defeated: "Then I'll make egg stir-fried with tomato."

Mei Wenhua: "Cucumber salad."

Biaozi: "Shredded potato salad."

Clearly, both were cold-dish masters.

Wei Ming: "I'll make my mother's mapo tofu—you can't handle spice, so I'll make it mildly spicy."

Mu Rong: "No, go all out—I can handle spice now."

Lu Xiaoyan teased: "Sour for boys, spicy for girls—you never used to like spice. Looks like you're having a little girl."

Hearing this, Qiao Feng sighed softly behind them. Though he believed his daughter would be loved, he and his wife still wanted a son to carry on the family line—this belief was deeply rooted in them.

Just then, someone knocked—the boss must've arrived. Qiao Feng hurried to open the door—it was Wei Anping.

"Little Qiao, help me with this." Behind Wei Anping were two others, carrying a massive piece of furniture—a bookshelf!

Wei Anping had arrived late because he'd been hunting for it—he'd visited several trust stores before finding this antique-style bookshelf, his gift for his nephew's housewarming.

How could a great writer not have a proper bookshelf?

The bookshelf was beautiful, spacious, and well-maintained—old, yes, but worn, not broken, radiating elegance.

Luckily, Wei Ming's door was tall enough—the bookshelf barely fit. Wei Anping had measured the frame earlier and bought exactly the right size.

Wei Ming rushed over, touched the bookshelf carefully, and adored it instantly.

"Looks like zitan wood—Uncle, this must've cost a fortune!"

Wei Anping waved it off: "Bought it at a trust store—the seller was desperate, lowered the price several times. Not a big deal."

Wei Ming noticed inscriptions on it—faint, but legible. In his judgment, this was at least a Qing Dynasty artifact.

Trust stores really did have good things—if you visited often and got to know the manager, you'd eventually find treasures.

Wei Ming was calm about collecting, but who didn't like beautiful things in their home?

The bookshelf alone elevated this empty house to a new level—he'd definitely need matching furniture, porcelain, and paintings to go with it.

As the men admired the bookshelf, Le Le suddenly shouted from the bathroom.

Xi Zi had accidentally knocked Nezha to the floor—face-first—and now he was a flat-faced Nezha. A Long was trying to fix it, but no matter how he reshaped it, the result was still a comically ugly kid.

Wei Anping immediately picked up his daughter to comfort her. A Long sighed—clay sculptures were too fragile—he'd make her a wooden one later.

After hours of work, dinner was finally served at six.

Including the two kids, thirteen people—enough to recreate "The Last Supper" on one long table.

Luckily, the round table was large enough for everyone to sit. But Aunt Xiao Yan, Mu Rong, and Guo Jianmei finished early and took the kids to another room to play, letting the men drink, smoke, and chat freely.

At first, Biaozi and Xiao Mei were nervous around Wei Anping, the school leader, but after a few drinks, they loosened up and spoke confidently about their southern travels.

As a half-Guangdong native, A Long didn't steal the spotlight—he leaned close to Wei Ming and whispered:

"We've finished the first season of 'Heroes from Youth.' I brought the drawings for you—take a look later."

"Good. If it's fine, keep it—I'll submit it."

Snow Sis is returning to Shanghai anyway—she can take it back safely.

These drawings were the month-long labor of several boys—worth hundreds of yuan.

Around eight, after the older men finished their last drink, the housewarming feast ended. Wei Ming turned off the cassette player's soft music—the party was over, until next time.

Everyone left. Wei Ming cleaned up alone—and only then felt the loneliness of the big house. It desperately needed a woman.

Tomorrow—should I visit Xue Jie first, or Lin Jie first?

…

(The Legend of Nezha: The Demon Child Stirs the Sea was absolutely amazing—worth every moment!)

(End of chapter)