Chapter 204: The Queen

Mei Wenhua held a copy of the newly relaunched 2023 edition of the Beijing Evening News, its front page featuring a major headline announcing the latest notice from the Beijing Municipal Industry and Commerce Bureau.

"Big Brother Wei! Look at this—this must be real, right?"

Wei Ming took it, glanced over, and saw: "The Municipal Industry and Commerce Bureau has issued a notice: permitting unemployed youth and retired workers to engage in individual business according to societal demand. In addition to previously approved trades such as shoe repair, bicycle repair, hairdressing, and sewing, operations may now include house repairs, shoe shining, tricycle transportation, and letter writing…"

Wei Ming chuckled: "The Beijing Evening News is an authoritative outlet—anything published here is definitely true. Spring has come for the unemployed!"

Previously, authorities had been ambiguous and indecisive: encouraging unemployed youth to support themselves while withholding policy support, restricting them to only a few specific trades. Like Biaozi and his crew selling goods, they had to operate like guerrillas, like rats hiding from the light.

Wei Ming had been in Beijing for nearly a year. Job vacancies were just as scarce as they had been a year ago, because the government had fully ended the Down to the Countryside movement, and former sent-down youth were now desperately trying to return to the city.

Even Qi Kexiu had considered returning to Beijing, but Chunhua's aunt was pregnant again, tying him down.

Urban job pressure had grown so intense that the authorities could no longer dodge the issue—they had to take a clear stance.

Just like now: clearly telling unemployed youth what they were allowed to do, including Biaozi and Xiao Mei's small commodity trade.

Catering was even mentioned, but it was more complicated, since it required access to food raw materials—otherwise, you couldn't even get started.

Sure, customers would give out grain coupons; if you had enough to buy rice and flour upfront, you could operate. But what about vegetables, meat, and oil? Ordinary people simply couldn't manage private catering yet.

But it wouldn't be long—individual restaurants would emerge in Beijing before the year ended.

Back in their old dormitory, Wei Ming and Biaozi and Mei Wenhua imagined how they'd proceed once policies opened up.

Mei Wenhua said: "I want to open a shop selling southern hot items—run it properly. Instead of us making exhausting trips south to source goods, why not buy directly from the big-time profiteers?"

They'd met one such big profiteer on their last trip south—he could transport in a single shipment what took them years to gather, carload after carload. Too bad they had neither the connections nor the capital.

Wei Ming: "So you'd be the retail end—profit margins might be thinner, but it's less grueling. If you expand the shop, the earnings could still be substantial."

In this era, as long as you had a sharp mind, money was still easy to make.

Biaozi thought: "I want to convince my mom to go solo—start a small garment workshop, making clothes in Hong Kong styles. I'll open a clothing store to sell them for her."

Mei Wenhua: "Just sell them in my shop—I'll say they're imported from Hong Kong!"

Xiao Mei was already showing signs of her inner merchant.

Wei Ming praised: "Biaozi's idea is solid too. Clothing has huge profit margins and massive demand. Think bell-bottoms, red skirts—there'll be no way to meet demand."

Qiao Feng, listening nearby, asked: "So if you're going into business, what about your jobs?"

Biaozi hesitated, but Mei Wenhua cut straight to the point: "It'll never turn permanent. Stay till retirement and you're still a temporary worker. We're already ghosts—might as well earn more money."

Biaozi had clearly discussed this with Mei Wenhua: "Feng Ge, I feel the same. I want to earn more, buy a big house, and let Yanzi live well."

Wei Ming wasn't surprised. Both now had thousands in assets and a motorcycle. Their temporary worker salary was 18. yuan a month, and they spent most of their time and energy at school. They'd seen the outside world—they knew exactly what choice to make.

Wei Ming asked: "So how long do you plan to keep working?"

Mei Wenhua: "Just through this holiday. After classes resume, we quit."

Biaozi: "Even though we won't be at Peking University anymore, we'll always be brothers. We'll come back to visit you often."

Wei Ming: "I respect your decision, but prepare yourselves—social attitudes won't shift quickly. For the next few years, individual entrepreneurs will be looked down upon. But once you've moved into big houses, bought all the appliances, maybe even upgraded from motorcycles to cars, those sneers will mean nothing."

Feng Ge sighed: "Alright. Your path might not be any less of a highway than mine. I've got a bottle of liquor stashed away—let's have a drink. To your bright futures."

That night, when Wei Ming went to pick up Zhu Lin, he told her his two colleagues were quitting to become individual entrepreneurs.

"Beijing's about to open up—economic development comes first now. We're at the edge of collapse; social instability is growing."

Zhu Lin: "So does that mean it'll be easier to buy things?"

"Probably. Soon you won't have to worry about paying for something, then seeing the vendor vanish the moment the police show up." Wei Ming smiled.

Zhu Lin was pleased—she'd been burned before. Once she saw a beautiful hairpin, paid for it, but before she could grab it, someone yelled "Police!" When she turned around, the stall and vendor were gone.

Outside the cinema, it was lively—a crowd of hundreds, long lines, and people selling goods on the open ground. Everyone was fired up to make money.

By June, the weather was getting hot. Wei Ming bought two cream popsicles and ate them while waiting in line.

Watching Zhu Lin's nimble tongue, Wei Ming nearly forgot to eat his own—until she realized what the brat was thinking. She stomped on his foot, then crunched through her popsicle in a hurry, shivering from the cold.

Wei Ming thought: oral practice was almost good enough—but tango still needed more work.

"After the movie, want to dance? It's been a while." He suggested. Zhu Lin was wearing short heels and a skirt—too perfect to skip dancing.

"No, it's too late," Zhu Lin said, refusing—but her tone wasn't firm. She waited for Wei Ming to persuade her. He didn't.

After the movie, Wei Ming quietly took Zhu Lin back to her dorm, riding slowly to leave time to discuss the film.

"Bashan Night Rain," one of the two co-winners of the first Golden Rooster Award for Best Film, had two directors: Wu Yonggang, a second-generation director born in the Qing Dynasty, and Wu Yigong, a representative of the fourth generation, who later directed "Memories of Old Beijing."

The Wu duo's collaboration was excellent—a gem from Shanghai Film Studio. Though a reflective film, many lines stuck with viewers, and Zhang Yu's performance was strong.

Her fame wasn't yet big—soon, after "Love on Lushan Mountain" premiered, she'd become the hottest actress of 1980.

"Have you heard of 'Love on Lushan Mountain'?" Wei Ming asked Zhu Lin.

"I saw it in Popular Cinema—it's also starring Zhang Yu, and I think it's a love story." Love stories were rare these days. Zhu Lin guessed Wei Ming wanted to take her to see it.

Wei Ming: "I went to Shanghai Film Studio before—I know this film. It has a kissing scene."

"Ah!"

"A kissing scene?"

This was alien to Chinese audiences—they'd only seen foreign movie kisses in Popular Cinema.

Wei Ming: "Now you see the importance of oral practice, right? How will you ever do a kissing scene if you haven't trained?"

In truth, the so-called kiss in "Love on Lushan Mountain" was just a cheek touch—but Zhu Lin imagined something far more explicit.

She pinched the flesh on Wei Ming's waist hard: "I'd never act in something like that!"

Wei Ming: "Oh, too bad. I was going to teach you how to fake a kiss—looks like a kiss, but you never actually touch."

"Huh? Faking it? There's a trick like that?"

"Of course. Want to learn? I'll teach you."

Zhu Lin fell silent. As she stayed silent, Wei Ming's motorcycle changed course, heading straight for the Overseas Chinese Apartment.

Inside, Wei Ming placed his camera on the cabinet, simulating a film camera.

His hand was now pressed against Zhu Lin's waist. With summer arriving, her clothes had grown thinner—his touch made her entire body warm.

"Let's start with a hug," Wei Ming revealed his true intent, embracing her tightly, gently stroking her back, even feeling the strap of her bra.

Zhu Lin: The temperature is rising!

But as an actress, she believed in professionalism—so she placed her hand on his bare back, pretending to be his lover.

As they hugged, Wei Ming nuzzled her, rubbing his hair against hers, his ears brushing hers—until her ears turned bright red.

Zhu Lin felt she couldn't take it anymore. Acting emotional scenes was so hard! Her mind went blank. She'd planned to recite lines from the film to ease the awkwardness—but not a single line came to mind.

Then Wei Ming's hand moved from her back to her face, finally separating their bodies slightly.

He cupped her cheeks, gently caressing them, gazing into her eyes with tender affection—so much so that she couldn't meet his gaze.

"Look up. Or I'll just kiss you."

Zhu Lin felt her head was heavy, lifting it was agonizing.

But she finally lifted it. Their height difference was perfect—this angle would look beautiful on screen, Wei Ming judged from a producer's perspective.

Zhu Lin had never looked this closely at a man's face—he was flawless, almost no flaw at all.

Wei Ming, too, had never seen Zhu Lin's face this close—so beautiful, with a commanding aura. He really wanted to kiss her.

So he leaned in, inch by inch. Zhu Lin knew—this "fake kiss" was just an excuse. He was going for real!

But her head was already held firm by him—she couldn't escape.

So as their lips were about to meet, as she could feel his breath, she closed her eyes and played ostrich.

Zhu Lin's throat moved. She didn't know whether she was expecting it—or afraid.

But seconds later, what touched her lips wasn't Wei Ming's mouth—what was this?

Zhu Lin opened her eyes. Wei Ming had pressed his thumb against her lip, then kissed his own thumb, moving his head as if passionately exploring something.

It was utterly convincing!

But why did she feel disappointed?

All her mental preparation felt wasted.

Wei Ming was still smug.

"See? That's called faking it—doesn't it look real?"

Zhu Lin nodded: "Let's practice again."

Wei Ming: "Yes, we should practice more—practice makes perfect. If you ever get a kissing scene, demand this method. Never believe directors who say you must sacrifice for the role."

Other actresses might sacrifice for their roles—but not my Zhu Lin or Xue Jie. Now that they know me, they'll never lack roles.

Second take: action! Wei Ming went through the preliminaries again. This time, Zhu Lin was more relaxed—first time awkward, second time familiar.

And this time, she didn't close her eyes. The moment Wei Ming blocked her lips with his thumb, something unexpected happened.

Zhu Lin suddenly pushed his hand away, then leaned forward herself—their lips… touched!

Wei Ming's shock lasted only an instant. As Zhu Lin tried to pull back, he immediately wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and took control.

This was beyond instruction. Zhu Lin was momentarily lost—but after a pause, she let him in. She'd forgotten all her oral training, completely following his rhythm, offering no initiative.

But he was simply too skilled!

At that moment, a vision flashed through Zhu Lin's blank mind—a beautiful girl with red hair.

She'd taught her well!

Wei Ming was an expert—he gave Zhu Lin breathing room, so the kiss lasted long.

Pure kissing was monotonous. Soon, Wei Ming's hands grew restless, moving from her back to the front.

This terrified Zhu Lin—she feared she'd lose herself here. After a moment of gripping, she pushed him away.

"Xiao Wei, enough. Stop!" She adjusted her clothes. "We're both acting impulsively today."

!

"Since we're already impulsive, why not go all the way?" Wei Ming walked to the door, turned off the light, and kissed Zhu Lin again—silencing every word she meant to say.

Zhu Lin felt again that she was about to succumb; she enjoyed this pleasure but still struggled against it.

She accepted kissing, but when Wei Ming tried to get handsy, Sister Lin refused.

Her reasoning was solid.

"I'm in my dangerous period—I could get pregnant." She studied pharmacology; she knew how terrifying abortion was, and knew even more terrifying was unwed pregnancy—the social horror of it.

"There's a way," Wei Ming scooped Sister Lin up around the waist, not letting go of her lips as he carried her.

After carrying her into the bedroom, he rummaged under the mattress and pulled out a opened box of Durex.

"Foreign birth control—now you don't have to worry, right?"

"Where did you get this?"

Wei Ming lifted up Sister Lin's skirt: "Leftovers from when I used them with Melinda."

Hearing Melinda's name, Zhu Lin instantly cooled. Before, hearing Wei Ming mention his ex-girlfriend had only made her a little sour—but now, hearing her name, and being forced to use her leftovers, Zhu Lin felt deeply uncomfortable.

Was it true that no matter what she did, she could never match that foreign girl's weight in his heart?

Even if they'd never meet again, the mark of their first time was hard to erase; she would forever live under her shadow.

So while Wei Ming fumbled to pull off his pants, Zhu Lin let her skirt fall back down.

"That's enough for today. I'm leaving."

Wei Ming realized he'd probably said the wrong thing—he started to chase after her, but stumbled because his pants were still half off.

"Sister Lin, don't… let me see you home."

As Zhu Lin stepped out of the compound, Wei Ming finally caught up on his motorcycle.

"Let me take you home—it's unsafe at night."

"No thanks. I'll take the bus."

"Then I'll wait for the bus with you."

During the wait, neither spoke. Wei Ming knew anything he said would only make Sister Lin angry.

Zhu Lin, meanwhile, was pondering their relationship—she had never imagined things would go this far today.

Though they hadn't gone all the way, honestly, if she ever married someone else in the future, she'd feel sorry for that man—his wife had already been touched all over by someone else.

She was still traditional; she'd always believed a woman should give her body to her husband only after marriage.

But just now, she'd nearly let little Wei take her to bed on a moment's impulse.

She also knew the chances of them marrying properly were slim; subconsciously, she'd thought, why not indulge once?

Not to mention the nine-year age gap was an insurmountable chasm, and the resistance from both families was overwhelming.

Besides, she'd studied the ancient literati and poets—almost none stayed faithful. Literati were always tied to "romantic" and "restless."

Someone like Wei Ming was the classic literatus—proficient in literature, music, art—only rich emotional experiences could birth great works. To create, he couldn't endure the dull routine of rice, oil, salt, vinegar, and tea.

He needed passion.

So though they were drawn to each other, Zhu Lin didn't believe they could love each other for life—perhaps when she grew old and faded, he'd abandon her; she was older, so she'd age first.

He might not even wait for her to age—he'd find another stunning beauty, get swept away by her, and leave her weeping alone.

So Zhu Lin had already warned herself: never fall truly in love with little Wei. If he wanted to play, she'd play along.

So just now, she'd let Wei Ming carry her to bed—but when he mentioned Melinda, she couldn't help getting angry—at herself for not being his only, his everything.

The two stood silently waiting for the bus. Wei Ming only thought about how sweet and soft Sister Lin's body was—but he never imagined she'd be thinking so deeply, analyzing him so clearly.

Then the bus Zhu Lin was waiting for arrived. She boarded, but Wei Ming didn't go home—he followed on his motorcycle.

The bus was nearly empty, and she'd still have to walk a ways after getting off—he couldn't feel safe otherwise.

Wei Ming, trailing behind, was seen by Zhu Lin. She knew—at least now, he was sincere: sincerely wanting to sleep with her, sincerely loving her.

When they reached her stop, Zhu Lin walked ahead, and Wei Ming rode behind, shining his headlight to light her path, escorting her all the way to her dormitory before leaving.

That night, Zhu Lin couldn't sleep. Wei Ming couldn't either—he thought of Zhu Lin, and also of Gong Ying, far away in the Magic Capital.

Things were bad—the balance was broken. He hadn't even kissed Snow Sister yet, but with Sister Lin, he'd nearly cooked the rice!

But if this happened again, he'd probably still give in—please, she was the Queen of the Women's Kingdom!

Zhu Lin hadn't seen Wei Ming for two days—she'd taken two days of sick leave, mainly to avoid being cornered by him at work.

These two days were also a battle within her—her inner struggle was fierce.

On the third day, she had to go to work—after all, her mother was a doctor; pretending to be sick too long would expose her.

But today, a senior female colleague at work told her to meet her somewhere after work.

"Where?"

"A great place—you'll see. Don't worry, I won't lead you astray."

This senior woman was an old acquaintance of Zhu Lin's mother and had always looked out for her at work; Zhu Lin trusted her.

So after work, Zhu Lin first checked outside the office—no sign of Wei Ming—and then followed the senior woman.

Only when they were nearly there did the woman reveal the truth.

"There's a dance tonight here—only young people, men and women. You used to dance in the Cultural Troupe, right? You'll be the center of attention. Don't be aloof if someone wants to get to know you—everyone here is from our Yanjing pharmaceutical system."

The senior woman had been asked by Zhu Lin's mother to set her up with a match—her mother hadn't given up; 28 wasn't old—not yet 30.

The woman thought it was too slow to introduce one by one, so she arranged a group meeting. Ballroom dancing was trendy now—just hold hands, and feelings would heat up fast. Perfect for finding a partner.

But when they arrived, they saw police—and a crowd gathered outside. After asking around, Zhu Lin learned: the police and cultural authorities had just issued a new directive—ballroom dancing was banned!

It had only been a year since the ban was lifted, but ballroom dancing had sparked many new social problems; public reaction was terrible, so they'd abolished it outright.

Zhu Lin was delighted—no more blind dating!

"Aunt Niu, I didn't want to come—it's just not allowed. The state is right: ballroom dancing should be banned. I've got things to do—I'm leaving." With that, Zhu Lin hopped on her bicycle and sped off.

She'd planned to return to her dorm, but as she rode, she changed course—heading toward Overseas Chinese Apartments.

At 28, she was rebellious—the state forbade dancing, so she'd dance anyway.

So when Wei Ming opened his door, he heard "Por Una Cabeza."

Zhu Lin sat on the sofa, waiting for him as her dance partner.

"Have you heard? Ballroom dancing's banned now," Zhu Lin stood, lifted her skirt in a formal invitation, "So if I ask you to dance now—will you dare?"

Wei Ming: "The ban is on group dancing. What counts as 'group'? Three people make a group."

If he invited Snow Sister too, the three of them dancing together would be forbidden.

"But we're only two people—we can dance." Wei Ming wrapped his arms around her waist and began to dance.

After last time's mess, Wei Ming was noticeably more restrained—but Sister Lin was the opposite: she was aggressive.

Not only did she touch him all over while dancing, she rose on tiptoe to kiss him.

Soon, they drifted into the bedroom. As Wei Ming pinned her to the bed, he asked: "Are you sure?"

Zhu Lin pulled out a rubber product: "I'd rather use a domestic one~"

…

(This was yesterday's minimum, sorry for the delay—this scene was hard to write.)

(End of chapter)