Chapter 210: Playing a Game of Courage with Zhu Lin (Guaranteed Dual-Chapter Combined)

Zhu Wei already knew Wei Ming was Wei Shénme; before arriving, he hadn't reached Wei Ming's home phone, but he'd called Youth Literature and Children's Literature magazines and confirmed the explosive news that Wei Ming was Wei Shénme, so he headed straight to Peking University.

"Why suddenly want to interview Wei Shénme?"

"China Youth Daily was acting on instructions from the State Publication Bureau," Zhu Wei revealed.

This was top-down directive—Wei Ming could only temporarily set aside his own affairs and cooperate with the interview.

And it was time to promote Wei Shénme, the low-key but highly accomplished children's author.

"When I found out Wei Shénme was Wei Ming, I couldn't believe it—so why, after writing serious literature so well, did you enter children's literature? And has your lack of new work in the past six months been because you shifted your focus to children's literature?"

Wei Ming: "First, let me correct this—I originally wrote children's literature. The pen name Wei Shénme predates my works under my real name. Second, in the past half year I've been preparing my novel; I haven't devoted much energy to children's literature."

The reporter felt embarrassed—he'd come too hastily and hadn't prepared well enough.

He asked again: "What inspired you to begin writing children's literature?"

Wei Ming: "First, I love children. My uncle has a pair of twins—adorable. My first fairy tale, 'The Toothless Tiger,' was inspired by my cousin's habit of eating too much sugar and getting cavities."

"Haha, I never knew this story lay behind the novel—it's so sweet."

Wei Ming: "Of course, the main reason was still to earn manuscript fees. Life in Beijing is hard—there are too many expenses. I bought this secondhand bicycle in Beijing using the earnings from my first two fairy tales."

Wei Ming pointed to his Forever 28-inch bicycle. Without Xiao Mei's careful care, it aged quickly—but Xiao Hong would soon be entering university.

The reporter thought the old, battered bike proved how plain Wei Ming's life was.

"The real reason Wei Shénme became famous nationwide must be 'The Legend of the Heavenly Book.'"

"Yes, I received countless letters from young readers. I used to live in the school's dormitory, but space was limited. Eventually, I had no room to store the letters, so I bought a house."

Zhu Wei: "..."

Wei Ming: "Relieved. Old Zheng, I'm gonna enjoy this moment—you'll only get to play secondhand bragging rights later."

Zhu Wei stared in disbelief—what? You bought a whole house just to store letters? That's not plain at all!

He then focused on discussing reader letters and Wei Ming's selection process for replies.

"Generally, the longer and more sincere the letter, the more likely it'll be chosen for a reply. Also, if a reader writes repeatedly with memorable content, I'll reply to them too."

Wei Ming's words were meant to encourage young readers to write—he knew letters cost only a few cents, helped develop writing skills, and cultivated a love for writing; if a child truly struggled, he'd offer help.

He'd once slipped cash into reply letters, though he hadn't mentioned it to the reporter.

The reporter: "'The Legend of the Heavenly Book' is truly a masterpiece of children's literature, adapted from a classical work—this is rare. I hear the Shanghai Animation Film Studio has picked it up for a film adaptation, with the same team behind 'Nezha Conquers the Dragon King.' Can you tell us about the film's progress?"

Wei Ming shared what he knew, even mentioning how 'Nezha Conquers the Dragon King' winning at Cannes had significance for domestic animation and his confidence in Director Wang Shuchen's team.

But Zhu Wei's real focus clearly wasn't the uncertain co-production 'The Legend of the Heavenly Book.'

"You really have a connection with Britain—'The Legend of the Heavenly Book' was co-produced with BBC, and 'The Game of the Brave' was a huge success there. According to our sources, this book is currently wildly popular in Britain—children adore it."

So that's what you've been waiting for, Wei Ming realized instantly—it must be Melinda's doing. She was helping him gain fame, but she was already gone—he couldn't even thank her.

"Indeed, 'The Game of the Brave' has less impact domestically than 'The Legend of the Heavenly Book' or 'Black Cat Detective,' but thanks to translators and illustrators, this Chinese story has reached a bigger stage. Sales in Britain have been strong, and it's soon launching in the U. . and Canada—I'm glad more people are reading it."

The reporter then engaged Wei Ming in detailed discussion about the inspiration and themes behind 'The Game of the Brave'—his main preparation had been reading the story in a magazine.

"Actually, the idea came to me while playing a game with my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend? Mr. Wei, you have a partner?!" Though this was personal and might not be published, the reporter still wanted to know.

Wei Ming shook his head: "We've broken up—she's my ex-girlfriend. She was also the English translator and overseas editor of 'The Game of the Brave.' Her contribution to its success was indispensable—I sincerely thank her."

Hearing that Wei Ming's ex-girlfriend was also the translator and editor, the reporter suddenly sensed something worth digging deeper into.

But he wasn't a gossip tabloid journalist—he merely remarked: "So you two remain good friends after the breakup."

Wei Ming: "Yes, we'll always be friends—and partners in our careers."

They talked until dusk, and Wei Ming also shared updates on 'Black Cat Detective' and his new fairy tale plans.

The interview finally ended. The reporter asked: "Would you mind if we publish details about your personal life?"

"I don't mind. She's been instrumental in my career—I can't avoid mentioning her."

Zhu Wei: The key point was—she was a British exchange student. Wei Shénme had once dated a foreign girl? That was still astonishing.

The reporter asked again: "What about the fact that Wei Ming and Wei Shénme are the same person?"

If framed as "Wei Ming dated a foreign exchange student," the news would be explosive—Wei Shénme's fame paled next to Wei Ming's.

Wei Ming didn't mind. He'd never deliberately hidden it—his works all used Liu Rulong for illustrations, leaving clues for readers, and he'd used his real name as the animation screenwriter. But...

He told the reporter: "If I were a journalist, I wouldn't dump every explosive point of an exclusive story at once. I'd release some now, save some for later—keep readers eager, keep them coming back."

Hearing this, Zhu Wei—graduate of Peking Broadcasting College's journalism program—suddenly grew serious.

Wei Ming continued: "If I'm right, this article's main focus should be 'The Game of the Brave' successfully entering overseas markets and winning readers abroad. Build the story around that, then slowly release other points later. What do you think, Reporter Zhu?"

The reporter's mouth hung open, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Mr. Wei, have you studied journalism?" He felt Wei Ming understood more than his own professors.

Wei Ming waved his hand: "I just like reading. I've dabbled in some journalism texts."

Zhu Wei decided he'd write this article carefully—foreign ex-girlfriend, Wei Ming's second identity—all could be held back for later stories.

"You're saying this is an exclusive, right?" Zhu Wei confirmed one last time.

"Yes. I won't tell other reporters." Wei Ming smiled.

China Youth Daily had enormous influence among youth—Wei Ming subscribed to it. This Zhu Wei might be useful later. After this interview, the two became close friends.

Today there was no time to buy a TV—Wei Ming could only eat and go home, then return tomorrow.

The next day at noon, Wei Ming rode his motorcycle to Wangfujing Department Store and headed straight for the appliance section.

He didn't even glance at the few-hundred-yuan black-and-white TVs—went straight to color TVs, and only looked at foreign brands.

Seeing the nearby cassette recorder, Wei Ming couldn't help thinking of his first meeting with Zhu Lin—wondering how things were going with Mrs. Mu Rong.

"What? You say you're just friends?"

"Yes, just really good friends. Xiao Mu, don't listen to him—he's just a kid," Zhu Lin said awkwardly, denying it.

Only when directly questioned about her feelings for Xiao Wei did Zhu Lin realize admitting it required real courage.

After all, they were nine years apart—admitting this relationship meant enduring odd glances for liking a boy. When she was twenty and a grown woman, Wei Ming was still a primary school student!

Mu Rong thought: Xiao Wei, you're in trouble—she won't even admit you two were together. Did you commit the mistake every man makes?

She noticed Zhu Lin now seemed far more feminine than before her departure—likely their relationship had grown deep and intimate. She should try to mediate.

Mu Rong added: "If you're just friends, then tonight my husband and I are treating you—want to join?"

"Will Wei Ming be there?"

"Of course—we're all friends."

"No, I bought tickets to the Beijing People's Art Theatre tonight—I'm seeing a play." She waved her tickets—she'd bought them yesterday.

"Why two tickets?" Mu Rong noticed the anomaly—was Zhu Lin already found a new date?

"I bought one for my sister, but she suddenly said she couldn't come." Zhu Lin sighed—she'd been trying to find a colleague to go with.

"What play is it?" Mu Rong's eyes twinkled.

"'The Miser,' Molière's masterpiece—one of the four great misers. The others are 'Eugénie Grandet,' 'Dead Souls,' and 'The Merchant of Venice.'"

This year's main productions at the People's Art Theatre were 'Teahouse,' 'Camel Xiangzi,' and 'The Miser.' The first two were too popular—she couldn't get tickets, so she settled for this foreign classic adaptation.

Mu Rong clapped: "I love this play! I want to see it too. Can I have your extra ticket?"

Zhu Lin wasn't stupid—she knew Mu Rong was here to mediate. This ticket would inevitably end up with Wei Ming.

"Fine. No charge—take it. Let the little one get some artistic enrichment," Zhu Lin smiled, handing over the ticket, pretending ignorance.

In fact, two days ago she'd gone to Wei Ming's home under the pretense of retrieving her things—but he wasn't home, so she couldn't get in.

She waited a long time, then was questioned by neighbors Wu Zuoren and his wife about what she was doing—she fled in humiliation.

Should've kept that key.

Knowing she'd see Wei Ming again tonight, Zhu Lin carefully dressed before the mirror—she'd even used the skin-whitening products he'd brought from Hong Kong.

Zhu Lin arrived early, took the bus, and went straight in to secure her seat—she even used her handbag to reserve it. In those days, many people ignored seat numbers and sat anywhere.

Just before the play began, someone finally squeezed in beside her.

Mu Rong: "Phew, barely made it—so crowded! Has the play started yet, Linjie?"

Zhu Lin stared at Mu Rong's pregnant belly—her surprise nearly slipped through. Wait, it's really you?! Pregnancy makes you stupid—can you even see properly?!

Mu Rong: I didn't want to come—I'm so clumsy now. But I called Wei Ming's home, Peking University's south gate, the school publication office—no one answered. I had no idea where he was. I had no choice—I couldn't waste the ticket money.

Since it wasn't the person she wanted to see, Zhu Lin found the play dull. But Mu Rong watched with delight, stroking her belly, hoping her baby absorbed the art.

When the two left the People's Art Theatre, Mu Rong suddenly clutched her forehead: "This theater has terrible ventilation—I feel like I'm suffocating."

Zhu Lin quickly supported Mu Rong: "Are you okay? Should I... should I take you back to Peking University?"

Mu Rong: I've been waiting for you to say that!

Once at Peking University, she'd find a chance to warn Wei Ming—she'd gone through so much for both of them.

They boarded the bus. Few passengers—both had seats. Looking at Mu Rong's heavy frame, Zhu Lin smiled: "When are you due?"

"September—right when Peking University starts. That's when my husband's busiest," Mu Rong replied cheerfully.

Watching Mu Rong's happiness, Zhu Lin couldn't help wondering what her own child would be like—and whether she'd ever have one.

Choosing to be with a boy so much younger carried huge risk—by the time Wei Ming reached legal marriage age, she'd be thirty-one, past her prime childbearing years.

At Peking University, Mu Rong glanced at the south gate guard post—she spotted two motorcycles. That meant Wei Ming was here!

"Linjie, wait—I'll check if there's mail for us." Mu Rong went inside and came out quickly.

Then Zhu Lin helped Mu Rong back to their dormitory building. Passing a newly constructed apartment block, Mu Rong paused, clutching her belly.

!

"What are you looking at?"

Mu Rong's face glowed with happiness: "One of these apartments will belong to us. It's nearly finished—we should move in before New Year's."

When Zhu Lin arrived at Mu Rong's home and saw the cramped dormitory building, she understood why Mu Rong longed so desperately for that apartment—it was barely bigger than Wei Ming's bathroom.

Zhu Lin didn't stay long; she feared missing the last bus.

If she really missed it, she'd have to grit her teeth and walk to the Overseas Chinese Apartment.

Zhu Lin increasingly despised herself—how few days had passed? Her former pride had turned entirely to softness.

When she stepped out the south gate and reached the bus stop, a familiar rumbling sound suddenly came from behind; she turned and saw Wei Ming parked on his motorcycle before her.

He handed her the helmet: "Get on, I'll take you home."

Just now, all four of them were in the dorm, discussing opening a shop at Dongfang Xintiandi, when the gatekeeper came down to tell Brother Feng: "Sister said she's back, and it was a former colleague from her old unit who brought her—this sister is incredibly beautiful."

Hearing this, Wei Ming knew it was a signal from Sister, so he immediately rode over and waited in the shadows for Zhu Lin to appear.

After days of cold war, when Wei Ming appeared unexpectedly, Zhu Lin lost all capacity to resist or refuse.

As soon as she took the helmet and sat on the motorcycle, she clung tightly around his waist from behind.

She truly feared this brat might actually take her home—but thankfully, the motorcycle headed toward the Overseas Chinese Apartment.

Zhu Lin pressed her cheek against Wei Ming's back, thinking she was in her safe period; in two days her period would come, and for several days she wouldn't be able to do anything.

Maybe… maybe tonight she should let him have a taste of sweetness?

As she thought this, Wei Ming had already parked the motorcycle downstairs.

"It's too late; going home now might wake up your uncle and aunt. Stay here tonight—I promise I won't do anything improper." He assumed Zhu Lin was still the same girl who had left in a huff.

Zhu Lin softly said, "Mm."

When they stepped inside, Zhu Lin softly exclaimed, "Ah!"—she immediately spotted the television in the living room, and it was quite large.

"A 20-inch Philips color TV, just installed today—we can watch before bed." Wei Ming turned it on, breaking the silence of the living room.

The TV plus installation cost him a full 2, 00 yuan; now his cash was running low.

A 20-inch TV measured 45 centimeters wide and 30 centimeters tall—still too small for Wei Ming. If a larger one had been available in the store, he would have bought it even if it meant spending foreign exchange coupons.

There was no choice—the living room was too big for such a small TV. He'd swap it to the bedroom later when larger color TVs appeared on the market.

Zhu Lin thought this was already big enough; her family owned a domestic Changhong black-and-white TV, only 14 inches, and later they'd bought a color film overlay—but the effect was nothing compared to this real color TV.

The TV was now playing last year's old movie "Sweet Business," directed by Xie Tian, starring Li Xiuming and others.

TV production was still too scarce; domestic TV series hadn't even emerged yet, so they had to fill time with movies. Zhu Lin watched with great delight—watching on such a big screen was truly different.

As they watched, they chatted.

"Where did you and Sister Mu Rong go today?"

"The People's Art Troupe. We saw a play."

"What play? … How was the acting? … Do we know anyone at the People's Art Troupe?"

As Wei Ming spoke, he drew closer to Zhu Lin, eventually mentioning Li Guangfu.

"You couldn't get tickets for 'Teahouse'? No problem—I'll tell Old Li, he should be able to arrange something."

"Oh~" Zhu Lin replied coolly, pretending to be aloof.

When he placed his hand on Zhu Lin's shoulder, she stood up to go to the bathroom—and made another discovery.

"You bought a washing machine?" The washing machine instantly pulled Zhu Lin's attention away from the sink where Melinda had once leaned.

"Yeah. Washing clothes is a big problem for a single man—better leave it to the machine."

The washing machine was imported; Wei Ming picked it up directly at Friendship Store, spending 1, 00 foreign exchange coupons.

Zhu Lin kept wondering if he was subtly scolding her for not washing his clothes.

After discovering the washing machine, Zhu Lin unsurprisingly also spotted a refrigerator in the kitchen.

Like the washing machine, it was a Toshiba bought at Friendship Store, costing 2, 00 foreign exchange coupons—she'd missed Mu Rong's call because she'd been busy with this all afternoon.

With the three major appliances purchased, his home had finally achieved basic modernization—he hoped both he and Zhu Lin could live more comfortably.

Zhu Lin thought the only thing missing now was a sewing machine—she knew how to use one.

As she thought, the TV screen turned to snow—not because the TV broke, but because there were no more programs. It seemed to be reminding them it was time to sleep.

Zhu Lin walked into her small bedroom and began making the bed.

At that moment, Wei Ming entered with pajamas.

"Do you still want this? If not, I'll throw it out." He'd checked—it carried no trace of Melinda's perfume, no red hairs.

Zhu Lin gave a soft hum, took them, and had grown accustomed to these silk pajamas—these past few nights, sleep had been uncomfortable without them.

Seeing he still didn't leave, she said: "I'm changing clothes—would you mind stepping out?"

Wei Ming stepped out, closing the door loosely—not fully shut—but Zhu Lin didn't mind; she immediately changed, then sniffed the pajamas—Melinda's scent was gone.

Dressed in the pajamas, feeling light and refreshed, Zhu Lin began her nighttime routine. Throughout, Wei Ming remained in his bedroom, door slightly ajar, light on.

Zhu Lin wondered curiously—since he wasn't writing, why wasn't he sleeping?

She stole a glance and saw Wei Ming holding a very elegant book.

Could it be something Melinda left him? Was he missing her?

As she watched, Wei Ming suddenly got up, book in hand—Zhu Lin quickly stepped back two paces, pretending to pass by.

"Sister Zhu, you're not asleep yet?"

"Just about to sleep."

Wei Ming: "If you're really not sleepy, how about we find some fun?"

Hmph—finally, the mask is off!

Zhu Lin raised an eyebrow at him: "What kind of fun?"

Wei Ming waved the book: "You know I wrote a novel called 'The Game of the Brave,' right?"

"Of course I know," Zhu Lin nodded—it was her favorite of Wei's works, though children clearly preferred "Black Cat" and "Heavenly Book."

Wei Ming: "The game we'll play is exactly that—The Game of the Brave."

Hearing this, Zhu Lin became interested.

"What's this book? Why is it all in English?"

"The British edition of 'The Game of the Brave.' Come on, let's sit on the bed and play."

Wei Ming unfolded the modified game board: "I take black, you take white—you go first."

Before Zhu Lin could examine the penalty rules, Wei Ming urged her to roll the dice.

"Five! I can move five steps!" Zhu Lin was delighted, hopping her little white pawn five spaces—then she saw the square's instruction: Remove your undergarments…

…

(Yesterday's guaranteed update—late but here, requesting monthly votes! Now it's time to pay back the debt!)

(End of Chapter)