Chapter 226: Animal Version of the Prince

Under the witness of intermediary Li Chengru, the down-and-out Manchu nobleman Nari Lang handed over all the keys to the 400-square-meter single-court courtyard on Beichi Zi to Wei Ming.

Wei Ming also paid him the final installment; the two were now settled in money and goods.

Nari Lang clutched the U. . dollars lovingly: "These things are truly beautiful—there can't be any counterfeits here, right?"

Knowing he was joking, Wei Ming didn't mind; he asked, "You're giving me the house now—where are you going to live next?"

Nari Lang: "I've already gotten the paperwork. Tomorrow I'm buying a plane ticket. For now, I'll crash at Chengru's place for a few days."

Li Chengru was more than happy to host him; now that Nari Lang had money, even a little spillage would be enough to keep him comfortable.

But he himself was only drinking the broth—he couldn't compare to the wealthy writer Wei.

He sighed to Wei Ming: "I even went to Oriental New World. Amazing! How on earth did you come up with this?"

In truth, Li Chengru himself was the pioneer of this model in Beijing; during his peak, he had over a hundred female sales assistants and daily sales exceeding 500, 00 yuan—Oriental New World still lagged behind him.

Of course, Wei Ming now dared not let his own shop earn that much; even if he could, he wouldn't. Too conspicuous. Now sales had stabilized at around 5, 00 yuan per day—perfect.

Wei Ming patted Li Chengru on the shoulder: "Thanks, Brother Li, for speaking up for us in front of the factory director and helping us produce the goods—we'd have run out of stock otherwise."

This was true, but to Nari Lang it sounded like bragging, making him regret not holding out for ten thousand dollars—that bastard was rich!

After the handover, Nari Lang and Li Chengru pushed their bicycles, loaded with belongings, and left.

Nari Lang didn't care about the junk in his house—he carried only one bag; the rest had already been hauled away by Li Chengru over the past few days. This was a perk for the intermediary, and now only a few final items remained.

Their taking it away saved Wei Ming the trouble of disposing of it; the house needed major repairs to be habitable.

Take the floor, for instance—it's all dirt. At least it needs brick paving. It's the rainy season now; mud is unbearable.

The house itself has some damaged and broken spots too—need to find a renovation crew.

At the very least, I need to clear out one bedroom for myself, to have a safe retreat.

Next, Wei Ming entered Oriental New World. He hadn't been there in days; at the entrance stood a seamstress pedaling a sewing machine under a sunshade, a pregnant woman. Though plain-looking, she was pitifully delicate, reminding Wei Ming of Snow Sister from "Under the Bridge."

Inside, Mei Wenhua told him: "This is our after-sales repair. I let her use the entrance space for free. She takes her own jobs, but when our customers need alterations or hemming, she helps for free."

As business grew, customers began returning clothes for repairs, so Mei Wenhua devised this win-win solution.

Wei Ming said: "Why not let her work inside? It's scorching hot out there—she's pregnant, after all."

Mei Wenhua lowered her voice: "If she comes inside, won't she become one of us? Then things get messy."

Xiao Mei glanced at the current staff setup: five regular workers, plus Xiao Hong. Now Xiao Hong wasn't even allowed to wear the uniform—afraid of being turned into a poster child.

Wei Ming nodded. Though a bit cruel, he understood Xiao Mei's dilemma. Oriental New World was too conspicuous now. Xiao Hong said a supervisor had come by for an inspection yesterday; Xiao Mei was walking on eggshells.

He then told Xiao Mei about the Sihe Academy: "I've got the house."

"Hey, ask Old Li to keep an eye out for me too—I'll take one for myself. Doesn't need to be big, just enough for me to move out." Xiao Mei said hopefully. He was a child of the big courtyard, his parents never supported his private enterprise—he'd long tired of living under others' roofs.

"Sure. I'll have him keep an eye out. Also, introduce me to the renovation crew you hired—I want to completely redo the interior."

"Sure. Most of them are returned urban youths, but the boss—this old guy—really knows his craft. Heard his ancestors did this too." The old man had seized the reform-and-opening opportunity, teamed up with three fellow returned youths, and started a renovation business.

Wei Ming got the address, but today was too late—he still had to go to the Beijing Film Studio.

Before leaving, he told Xiao Hong and the others not to rush home to cook for him tonight—whether Zhu Lin succeeded or failed, he'd take her out to eat, to comfort or reward her.

"I'm off!"

Wei Ming came and went like a gust of wind.

At the Beijing Film Studio gate, he greeted the gatekeeper as usual.

"Oh, it's over. Everyone's gone."

"Did they announce the results?"

"How would I know?" The old man chuckled bitterly.

Not knowing where Zhu Lin had gone, Wei Ming decided to visit Factory Director Wang Yang. His excuse was ready.

"Old man, how's our 'Heroes Rise in Youth' coming along?"

Wang Yang adjusted his glasses: "Last week we received a letter from Director Yang Qitian. He said initial tensions arose over pay between the mainland and Hong Kong crews—led by your guy Zhao Debiao. Then Director Xu Xiaoming resolved it by having everyone eat and live together, calming the conflict."

As expected, whenever mainland and Hong Kong co-productions happened, this always occurred. It wasn't about scarcity—it was about inequality. Everyone poor was fine, but if some ate meat and drank wine while others choked on bran and chaff, who could bear it?

Wei Ming added: "Eating and living together—doesn't that raise costs a lot?"

Old Wang waved his hand: "Not by raising mainlanders' pay, but by lowering Hong Kong crew's pay, then making up the difference as back pay after returning to Hong Kong. Of course, if they want to spend their own money buying cured pork from local villagers, no one can stop them."

Wei Ming gave a thumbs-up. Brilliant. In co-productions, how such conflicts were handled depended entirely on the director's vision and wisdom—those like Zhang Xinyan or Xu Xiaoming could manage it.

But some directors only inflamed tensions—like Liu Jialiang, who nearly drove Li Lianjie to quit.

"Then I'm relieved. When I get time, I'll go visit them. After all, Sichuan is my second homeland." Wei Ming truly wanted to be fully involved, but he was tied up with other matters—he could only lay the groundwork at the script level.

He could also join later. A good edit could save a film, especially action films—editing was especially crucial.

After circling around, Wei Ming finally brought up the casting for "Shang Shi."

"You know, I'm a devoted reader of Mr. Lu Xun. I'm deeply concerned about film adaptations of his works. I heard Shanghai Film Studio has already started 'Ah Q Zheng Zhuan'—we can't fall behind."

Wang Yang knew exactly what he was after. Jiang Huaiyan had already told him: Zhu Lin was his friend.

"No final decision yet. Originally I favored Fang Shu, Lao Shui wanted Lin Ying, but after screen tests, we all leaned toward Zhu Lin—she seems born to play Zijun. Her age is just right—but there's one small problem."

The old man paused, sipped tea slowly: "If we cast Zhu Lin, Wang Xingang looks too old. They don't seem like the same generation."

Indeed—they were twenty years apart.

Fang Shu had the same issue, especially since she'd previously starred with Wang Xingang in "Eternal Life in the Flames." Wang Xingang playing a love interest with a child he'd once portrayed? He couldn't accept it himself.

So Wang Xingang had already said: if they cast Fang Shu, replace him too. Not a threat—just for the sake of the film's quality.

Now the same problem arose: should they replace Wang Xingang, one of the Twenty-Two Great Stars? If replaced, the cast would drop a tier.

And who else was older than Zhu Lin, handsome and refined, with both scholarly grace and a rogue's charm, capable of matching her?

Wei Ming first thought of Pu Cunxin, his former colleague at the People's Art Theatre—could play both righteous and rogue—but he was too young, even younger than Zhu Lin.

After learning the situation, Wei Ming rose to leave. Though not finalized, Zhu Lin was the top candidate with the highest odds. He'd say no more—too deliberate, might trigger resistance.

As he left the Beijing Film Studio, he met Jiang Shan, holding a freshly printed issue of "Children's Literature," and greeted her.

"You're in middle school now, still reading 'Children's Literature'?" Wei Ming chuckled.

Though Jiang Shan was only one year younger than Wei Hong, born in early year versus late year, she'd experienced the shift from 5-2-2 to 6-3-3 schooling, and Xiao Hong had skipped a grade—so despite the one-year age gap, Jiang Shan was six grades behind. By the time Xiao Hong graduated university, Jiang Shan wouldn't even be eligible for college.

Jiang Shan's mouth was sharp: "I'm reading 'Black Cat Detective.' You, Mr. Wei, are already a world-famous children's writer. Mr. Wei Ming, you've got to work harder."

Wei Ming laughed: "Alright, I'll keep pushing. You go on."

As soon as Wei Ming left, Jiang Shan resumed reading the latest "Black Cat Detective" story.

The third installment of "Black Cat Detective" was growing popular among ten-year-old readers, teaching them much about animals. This issue told the story of the dove usurping the magpie's nest.

Even adults could relate deeply—especially now, with housing shortages, people often threw others' belongings out to seize apartments. Wei Ming wanted to use this animal tale to criticize such social phenomena.

Young readers might not grasp it, but adult readers with similar experiences would feel outrage.

Wei Ming felt many social issues could be woven into "Black Cat Detective" using animal traits. But stories like the praying mantis bride eating her groom—childhood trauma—should wait a while. Too shocking for kids.

Wei Ming had already finished the fifth "Black Cat Detective" story, with another ten or so outlined. He could write dozens more without issue.

This steady, reliable output made "Youth Literature" in Shanghai envious. "Children's Literature" now sold over 600, 00 copies per issue—thanks entirely to "Black Cat Detective."

Meanwhile, Jiangsu's "Youth Literature" was aggressively expanding, so "Youth Literature" desperately hoped for another hit like "The Game of the Brave."

Then they received Wei's latest submission.

Senior editor Ren Dalin, upon seeing Wei's manuscript, rejoiced like a child. He'd been about to leave, but stayed until dark to finish reading.

"Brilliant! No wonder it's Wei! An animal version of the Prince's Revenge—how did he think of this? A vivid African panorama, feels like you're standing right there." Ren Dalin wanted to discuss it with someone, but everyone had left. He carefully filed the manuscript titled "The Lion King," planning to propose publishing it in the August issue.

This time Wei Ming didn't prepare illustrations—let "Youth Literature" commission them directly.

At this moment, another manuscript was likely still aboard a ship bound for Britain.

Hearing Melinda say British children's books were trending toward classic retellings—Grimm and Andersen reimagined by contemporary authors—Wei Ming got the idea.

But he adapted Shakespeare's far more famous work: "Hamlet."

Wei Ming knew of the controversy in his past life between "The Lion King" and "Kimba the White Lion," but having seen both, he couldn't understand how it was plagiarism.

Some netizens pointed to one-to-one image matches, weeping, defending Osamu Tezuka—this wasn't plagiarism, it was copy-paste!

But forget this: everyone copies nature. Animals in nature are what they are. The African photo books and materials Wei Ming consulted alone contained many scenes matching "Kimba."

And "Kimba," the 1, 00-minute theatrical version, nearly covered every African animal and iconic landscape. "The Lion King," at 90 minutes, couldn't avoid overlap—unless you wrote "The Tiger King."

But tigers weren't as iconic in the West, so Wei Ming stuck with lions.

!

Besides, "Kimba" had a 1997 version. When people debated plagiarism, they compared the 1993 "Lion King" with both the original and the 1997 version—some creations came before, some after. That's cheating.

"Kimba" mainly explores human-animal bonds; humans play a vital role. The theme is humanity's relationship with nature; the plot centers on the white lion's return home.

"The Lion King"'s theme is "the circle of life," emphasizing nature's balance and harmony—revenge is merely the surface plot.

As for both having lion kings, it's like China's "Tiger King" saying. In the West, lions are seen as the strongest animals—hence "Richard the Lionheart," "Charles the Lionheart." Lion and king are synonymous.

The similarity between "The Lion King" and "Kimba" is less than that between "Avatar" and "Dances with Wolves."

Those who've seen "Kimba" know the most similar elements are the comic duo: a gazelle and a parrot, mirroring "The Lion King"'s warthog and meerkat—both comic relief.

Also, the one-eyed lion in "Kimba" and Scar in "The Lion King" look somewhat alike, but their functions are entirely different—one's a clown, the other the ultimate villain.

So Wei Ming believed it wasn't plagiarism, but Disney's staff must have seen "Kimba," perhaps even borrowed from it.

What they truly disgusted and discredited was their PR team lying through their teeth, claiming no one had ever seen "Kimba"—only to be repeatedly exposed.

Disney's legal team would never tolerate anyone touching their property, yet freely took from others.

To avoid controversy, Wei Ming deliberately avoided characters resembling those in "The Lion King" and "Kimba." The main villain's uncle lost Scar's look—he suffered from alopecia; his magnificent mane was actually a wig.

Very British.

Also, Simba's friends during his exile weren't the warthog and meerkat—they were the honey badger, never seen in "Kimba."

Because of its fearless, explosive temper, Wei Ming gave it many comedic moments—likely to become a popular side character.

When Wei Ming rode his motorcycle back to the Overseas Chinese Apartment, he saw Zhu Lin outside the compound—clearly waiting for him.

Wei Ming quickly stopped in front of her: "Sister, get in the car."

After getting in the car, Zhu Lin told him: "The audition's over. They told me to wait for word—it feels like I didn't get it. I watched Fang Shu's performance; no wonder she's a child star and a graduate of the Film Academy, her skills are solid."

"Oh?" Wei Ming was surprised. She felt this way? Clearly the director hadn't hinted at anything during the audition.

Wei Ming didn't tell her what Wang the factory director had said—after all, the final result wasn't confirmed yet. No point getting her hopes up for nothing.

"As long as you did your best, let's go celebrate with Western food today."

"You, though~" Zhu Lin hesitated, wanting to say something. She truly wanted to pay her own way, to be an independent woman not reliant on him—but with the way he ate, how could she ever be independent? She'd go bankrupt!

"It's not just about your audition—I passed my driver's license test today too. Double good news." Wei Ming told Sister Lin.

"Why not invite Xiao Hong and Yunyun?" His sister-in-law was still thoughtful.

But his brother was too cold-blooded: "Why call them? This isn't a small car—it can't fit that many people."

The next day, Wei Ming hired people to begin renovating the sihe courtyard. He entrusted the renovation work to the team recommended by Mei Wenhua, while he himself went shopping at trust markets and furniture stores, even exchanging some U. . dollars on the black market.

Two hundred dollars instantly turned into over a thousand yuan—more than enough, with money left over.

While talking with Master Lei from the renovation team, he said they could build an outhouse in the courtyard, and have sanitation workers come regularly to empty and clean it.

"But it'll cost money—quite a bit—since it's outside the sanitation workers' official duties."

That was why the previous owner never did it—it was too expensive.

But Wei Ming wasn't afraid of spending money—he was afraid of inconvenience. An outhouse was fine for now; they'd upgrade to a toilet later when major renovations were allowed. After all, this wasn't his primary residence.

"But could you add a lid to the outhouse, and run a wire for a light? So it's usable in the rain and at night."

"Got it, sir—you're a man who knows how to live." Master Lei said it was no problem.

During the renovation, Wei Ming treated Li Guangfu to another meal. Old Li deserved top credit for helping him acquire such a high-quality residence in such a prime location.

"You thank me, but I want to thank you too," Li Guangfu said, sipping wine at night, his face beaming.

"Why's that?"

Li Guangfu laughed heartily: "After the kids from your village left, another family moved out of our courtyard soon after—they moved into their son's unit building—and I got back another room. Isn't that worth celebrating?"

"That's truly cause for joy. Let's drink another round—to your Zaorishouhuizijidezhaizi."

Li Guangfu wiped his mouth: "There's another piece of good news—our unit has decided to adapt 'The Tale of the Two Donkeys.' Maybe we'll see the play next year."

"Oh, that's wonderful! I'll definitely bring my whole family to support it. Oh, one more thing—my buddy Mei Wenhua wants to buy a house too. He doesn't ask for much—just something livable. Old Li, do me a favor and help him out."

Li Guangfu: "Ah, here we go again!"

Wei Ming passed on Mei's request, then invited him over for barbecue at the sihe courtyard that evening.

Though the renovation wasn't yet complete enough for occupancy, the end of the month was near, and he and Xiao Hong planned to return to their hometown to check results, then bring their mother and grandmother to Beijing for a while, returning them before school started at the end of August.

So Wei Ming set the date for the 28th to invite Uncle Anping's family over for a meal and to show them around.

"Alright," Mei Wenhua said, though busy—he could hand over his bookkeeping duties to his most trusted salesgirl that day, since it wasn't Sunday.

That afternoon, Wei Anping and Lu Xiaoyan finished work, each riding a bicycle, with Xi Zi and Le Le on board, starting from Peking University.

Along the way, the two kids chattered nonstop, clearly eager to see Brother Ming.

"Should be here?" Wei Anping checked the address he'd written down.

Turning into the alley, they saw an open courtyard gate. Xi Zi rushed straight to the stone lion at the entrance—perfect size.

Le Le stepped inside and saw Brother Xiao Ming busy with something.

"Oh, you're here! Not quite ready yet—wait a bit." He was building a barbecue platform with bricks; the ingredients and charcoal were already prepared.

After all, he was the capital's most devoted foodie—every restaurant knew him well—so he easily bought these supplies: lamb, chicken, vegetables, and a blended barbecue seasoning. Though he had to grill it himself, the atmosphere was the point.

"Wait a little longer—Xiao Hong and the others should be arriving too. Today, besides Mei Wenhua, it's all family."

Mei Wenhua was eager to join this family. He hopped on his motorcycle, beaming, and invited the girls to get on.

Xiao Hong and Yunyun pushed and shoved, until Yunyun sat behind Mei Wenhua—but far back, nearly pushing Xiao Hong off the back.

Mei felt frustrated—his sisters still didn't trust his character.

Just as they left, a stunning woman appeared at the shop entrance, dressed in the current popular Zhang Yu style.

Gong Ying had just finished filming her scenes in 'Good Things Take Time' and returned to Beijing immediately, wanting to surprise Wei Ming.

She first called Wei Ming's home, but no one answered. Thinking the shop must be too busy, she went straight to Xidan.

Then she saw the two massive posters—on the left was herself; on the right, a woman she didn't recognize, yet somehow familiar~

…

(More tonight!)

(End of Chapter)