Chapter 235: The Literary Silver-Spear Tyrant and the Cinematic Mountain Demon

After the plane took off, Grandma by the window and Xu Shufen kept gazing at the sky and clouds, never tiring of it, and Wei Ming even took a photo of them together with a rainbow in the sky.

Three hours later, the plane landed at Shuangliu Airport, and they had eaten a meal mid-flight.

After arriving in Chengdu, they went to the bus station to find a coach back to Baoxing, their hometown; they got off at the county town along the way, and after walking two hours, they could reach the village—this was the experience Uncle Da had taught Wei Ming.

Unfortunately, Wei Ming didn't see his younger brother Gangdan or Gangdan's mother along the way, but the mountain air was truly good.

Grandma said the vast plains of Hebei were indeed enviable for farmers, but after seeing them too long, they became dull; yet the mountains and trees of their hometown never grew tiresome, and on the homebound mountain path, this old woman walked faster than Wei Ming and Xu Shufen.

By the time they reached Dagou Village, it was already dark; Uncle Da and Auntie Da immediately prepared a new dinner upon seeing their three relatives return.

Their cousins Pingping and Fangfang circled Wei Ming, knowing their cousin had countless candies.

After handing out the candies, Wei Ming asked about their school grades, but their mouths were stuffed with sweets, and they could only stammer incoherently.

Then Wei Ming opened his suitcase and took out the generous gifts Mei Wenhua had prepared for his in-laws, plus his own.

Uncle Da had already received Yunyun's letters and remittance slips, knew his daughter had found a boyfriend from Beijing, and that he was Xiao Ming's friend, with impeccable character and family background—it had deeply moved the couple, and thanks to their nephew, their eldest daughter had finally escaped hardship.

"This is Mei Wenhua," Wei Ming said, pulling out the photo he had prepared.

Uncle Da was very satisfied: "Such a tall guy, wearing glasses—how could he be uncultured? Clearly cultured!"

Auntie Da was mobility-impaired, so Uncle Da carried the photo to the stove so she could take a look; Wei Ming added: "These are Mei Wenhua's parents and older siblings—all of them are from the military."

"Good, very good!" Auntie Da's eyes grew slightly moist. "We're not worthy of them at all."

Wei Ming: "Why not? Yunyun's personality and looks—no one could find her even with lanterns. Mei's mother's afraid Yunyun will run off, and they're planning to hold the wedding this year."

This was another huge shock for Uncle Da and Auntie Da—was their daughter really getting married?

Previously, Wei Ming had suggested they raise quails, and with the money he lent them and Yunyun's contributions, they'd invested everything—but still hadn't seen any return; their home was destitute—how could they afford a dowry?

Xu Shufen said: "Big brother, don't worry about that—we'll definitely give Yunyun a grand wedding."

Hearing his second aunt's promise, Auntie Da wiped away happy tears and quickly brought out the dishes.

"It's a pity the quails haven't grown yet and aren't laying eggs—if they were, we could add half a meat dish," Auntie Da said apologetically.

Wei Ming laughed: "It's already great—we've got cured pork."

Hey, Wei Ming took a bite, chewed thoughtfully—it was the same cured pork they'd brought over for the New Year, damn, it had been half a year and they still hadn't finished it.

While they were eating, Village Secretary Wang Cai and his wife Cai Feng heard the news and came over to visit, along with some elderly women who knew Grandma.

Everyone laughed and passed around the photos of Mei Wenhua and Yunyun, envious of Yunyun's new in-law, all praising how cultured and tall the young man looked.

Too bad Xiao Mei wasn't here—he'd be ecstatic.

Back in the dormitory group at Peking University's south gate, Wei Ming, Biaozi, and Feng Ge were all over 1. meters tall, while Xiao Mei was noticeably shorter—it had become his psychological wound.

Of course, the villagers were even more astonished that Grandma's group had returned by plane—planes! How could ordinary people afford to fly? Only someone as capable as their nephew could manage it.

Uncle Da's house grew increasingly lively, with people staying overnight; Wei Ming didn't sleep until late, and when he woke the next morning, he saw his cousin Long Xiaoyang from Auntie's house.

Living in the neighboring village, he'd rushed over upon hearing Grandma had returned, and sure enough, he saw Cousin Ming.

Now Long Xiaoyang also raised quails with Uncle Da and Uncle Da's brother-in-law, and this kid had studied Wei Ming's breeding books more thoroughly than anyone else.

Wei Ming had come specifically to assess how their quail farming was going—if things looked promising, he'd provide additional startup funding.

In the original timeline, the Liu family of Hope Group started with 1, 00 yuan raised by selling watches and bicycles, beginning with quail farming, and only entered the feed industry after years of accumulation.

Wei Ming didn't expect them to grow that big, but at least lifting themselves out of poverty and toward a moderately prosperous life shouldn't be a problem.

With money, even Uncle Da himself would have a better chance of finding his lost younger sister.

Of course, Wei Ming had promised his mother, so he wouldn't give up—he brought a letter this time, from a possible lead, and had written to the person to learn more, but received no reply.

Fortunately, the person was also in Sichuan, so he planned to visit and verify.

"Cousin Ming, why don't you sleep at my place tonight? You can tell me all about Sister Yunyun and her husband."

Wei Ming: "I'm afraid I can't—I'm leaving today."

"What? Already?"

Wei Ming said: "I need to go to Jiuzhaigou first."

"Where's Jiuzhaigou?"

Wei Ming: "In Aba Autonomous Prefecture, near Gansu. My friend is shooting a film there—I plan to visit, then head to Zigong to look for my younger aunt."

"Shooting a film? Do they fly there?"

"Train."

This kid, having heard Grandma flew, was utterly envious—his head was full of planes; he'd never flown or seen a film shoot, because their area was so remote that film crews rarely came—once in a while, they might catch a screening in town.

Seeing Long Xiaoyang hesitate, Wei Ming smiled: "What? Want to come along and see the world?"

"Really?" Long Xiaoyang's eyes widened.

Wei Ming said: "Sure. Tell your Auntie, and we'll leave right away."

These days, traveling alone meant your luggage could easily vanish—you couldn't even sleep safely at night. More people meant more vigilance, and young people should see more of the world.

Before coming, Wei Ming had already contacted Biaozi and knew the exact filming location: originally along the Yangtze River in Hubei, then Guizhou, now Sichuan, primarily shooting in Jiuzhaigou—basically capturing all the best scenery of the southwest.

He'd heard even mainland scenic documentaries sold well in Hong Kong—this was one major reason why "Shaolin Temple" had been such a box-office smash there in his past life.

Hong Kong's geographic limitations were too great; even if they could film in Taiwan, it still couldn't match the diversity of mainland landscapes.

But roads were still difficult then; Wei Ming and Long Xiaoyang traveled two days, changing transport multiple times, passing through Wenchuan, Maoxian, and Songpan, before arriving at Nanping County, where Jiuzhaigou was located—it wouldn't be renamed Jiuzhaigou County until 1998.

"Because there are nine Tibetan villages within the area, the place is called Jiuzhaigou."

Wei Ming explained the origin of Jiuzhaigou's name to Long Xiaoyang, who was deeply impressed—he was from Sichuan-Chongqing and hadn't known about this place, yet his cousin knew so clearly.

At this time, Jiuzhaigou was still obscure; years ago, it had mainly been a forest farm called Rize Forest Farm, also known as Forest Farm 126.

Only two years ago had it been designated a national nature reserve, primarily to protect rare animals like giant pandas and golden snub-nosed monkeys and their habitats; its natural scenery was still unknown, no scenic area had been established, and no tourists were welcomed.

Probably many people knew of the place only because Wei Kuangren had placed several key fight scenes from "Heroes Born from Youth" here and raved about its breathtaking beauty.

He was essentially giving Jiuzhaigou's stunning scenery a preview—he always carried his camera when traveling, and this time he planned to take several photos of Jiuzhaigou's beauty and write two essays to maintain ties with major literary journals.

He'd previously published several essays on cuisine; publishing a collection on gourmet food wouldn't be a problem.

A writer's pen could be powerful—like his earlier suggestion that giant pandas be rented, not given away, which had sparked considerable debate in newspapers and might help accelerate implementation of the policy.

Arriving at Zhangzha Town, after asking around, the two finally found the film crew's base.

There were no guesthouses here; previously, there had been several logging camps, but since the area became a nature reserve, logging had decreased, loggers had been reduced, and the camp had been left vacant and assigned to the film crew—this influx of people brought significant income to the town.

Arriving at the logging camp, it was empty; before Wei Ming spotted Biaozi, he saw someone familiar.

How is he here?

He looked much younger than Wei Ming remembered—only in his early twenties, tall and thin, struggling to communicate with a young man speaking Cantonese, head bowed.

"Who you lookin' for?"

Seeing Wei Ming and Long Xiaoyang enter, the Cantonese-speaking man asked; his posture suggested a leg injury.

Wei Ming replied in Cantonese: "I'm Wei Ming, screenwriter of this film, here to visit."

The man relaxed: "Oh, Master mentioned you. Come in—they're shooting in the mountains."

Then Wei Ming looked at Han Sanping and asked, feigning ignorance: "How should I address this gentleman?"

Hearing Wei Ming speak Sichuanese, Han Sanping sighed in relief—he finally had someone he could talk to.

"Hello, I'm Han Sanping, director at Emei Film Studio," he said nervously; actually, his highest position so far was assistant director—he'd never directed a film independently.

"Ah, Director Han, nice to meet you. I'm Wei Ming, screenwriter of this film. This is my cousin Long Xiaoyang."

"Wei Ming?" Han Sanping paused. "Isn't there a writer named Wei Ming?"

Wei Ming smiled: "That's me." "Oh my!" Han Sanping gripped Wei Ming's hand tighter. "Didn't expect you to be the screenwriter of this film—my apologies for my ignorance!"

Wei Ming had come to visit friends; as for Han Sanping, when Wei Ming asked, the director felt a bit embarrassed.

"I started as a lighting technician. Recently, a lighting technician from Beijing Film Studio fell ill, and they couldn't send a replacement, so they contacted our Emei Studio nearby—I volunteered to come, hoping to learn from Hong Kong colleagues' advanced techniques."

It was normal for "Heroes Born from Youth" to seek help from Emei Studio when filming in Sichuan; in his past life, this film was co-produced by Emei and Qingniao, but this time, Emei had gotten "The Mysterious Buddha," so they weren't at a loss.

Although Han Sanping's future reputation was mixed, he was at least a doer—innovative and diligent in his role.

His willingness to join "Heroes Born from Youth" as a lighting technician showed his ambition—he was building connections with Beijing Film Studio and Hong Kong filmmakers, and those relationships might prove useful someday.

Now he'd met Wei Ming, the Silver-Spear Little Tyrant of the Literary World, and felt his trip was worthwhile; the two quickly bonded.

Coincidentally, Wei Ming's mother was from Sichuan, and Han Sanping's mother was from Hebei.

"Didn't expect me and Writer Wei to be so fated—I saw a small restaurant on the way. Today I treat you—let's have a proper drink!"

Since the crew wouldn't return anytime soon, Wei Ming agreed; Han Sanping then asked Wei Ming to invite the injured stuntman to join them for dinner.

!

This guy knew how to handle people—the injured young man, though limping, picked up his homemade wooden crutch and followed when he heard someone was treating.

To ease mainland colleagues' resentment, Hong Kong crew members had to eat and live with them—he hadn't eaten meat in ages.

During conversation, he introduced himself: "I'm Lin Di'an—you can call me Anzi. Director Xu is my master."

Wei Ming froze, studying the young man closely—he really was him, but now Lin Di'an was only seventeen or eighteen, nothing like the suave man Wei Ming knew.

Lin Di'an and Gu Zhaoxuan were both protégés of Xu Xiaoming; later, both joined the Yuan Clan, like Zhen Zidan, among the few non-Yuans in the group.

Lin Di'an's achievements were also impressive—he later joined Yuan Heping in breaking into Hollywood, working on major films like "The Matrix" and "Spider-Man 2," specializing in action choreography for fashion and comic adaptations, with stylish, imaginative fight designs.

Watching his cousin effortlessly switch between Cantonese and Sichuanese, Long Xiaoyang was awestruck—this was the calmness of a true master.

Wei Ming mainly asked Lin Di'an about filming conditions, especially injuries.

Fortunately, minor injuries were common, but no one was seriously hurt; except for Lin Di'an, the other stuntmen were veterans of the Yuan Clan, extremely experienced.

The main and supporting actors were all selected from major sports schools and martial arts teams, with excellent physical conditioning and fearless spirit; under Hong Kong's advanced wirework techniques and martial arts design, they delivered results far exceeding expectations.

Biaozi and Yanzi had also earned the respect of these Hong Kong stuntmen through their own skill—otherwise, even Xu Xiaoming and Yuan Xiangren's reputations alone wouldn't have been enough to command them.

Watching Wei Ming order dishes with such ease, Han Sanping didn't mind the cost—he was also from an official family, not short of money; he just confirmed the literary rumors: this Writer Wei was indeed a gourmet.

After the appetizers arrived, Han Sanping ate and asked: "Writer Wei, how long do you plan to stay?"

Wei Ming: "Just taking a look—I'll head to Zigong to find relatives afterward, and must return to Beijing for work by month's end."

"Zigong?" Han Sanping chuckled at the mention. "I know that place well—my father used to work there, and a few of his old subordinates still hold leadership positions. If you run into any trouble, just mention my name."

Afterward, he told Wei Ming about the people he knew in Zigong.

Though Wei Ming might never need them, he still accepted Han Sanping's favor.

"I won't waste words thanking you," Wei Ming said. "When you come to Jingcheng, just say the word—I'll make sure you're taken care of." He then gave Han Sanping his home phone number.

Han Sanping looked genuinely flattered—Wei Ming was a literary supernova, someone even Ma Shitu, Old Ma, had praised endlessly.

Lin Di'an said the crew shot in the mountains all day, ate lunch right on location, and often didn't return until nightfall.

So Wei Ming and Han Sanping decided to walk over and find them.

Lin Di'an knew the exact filming spot; they just needed a local guide. They randomly picked a Tibetan girl named Zhuoma from a small eatery—of course, guiding came with a fee.

The girl was bold—she simply followed three outsiders into the mountains.

The filming site was called "Wuhuahai," named for the mineral deposits in the lakebed that created a rainbow-hued water surface—pale yellow, deep blue, dark indigo, ink green—looking down, it resembled a fully fanned peacock, hence its alternate name, "Peacock Sea." It would later become one of Jiuzhaigou's signature sights, famed as "the crown jewel of Jiuzhaigou."

Oh, the spider spirit scenes in the CCTV version of "Journey to the West" were shot here. The picky location scouting and the single-camera limitation were major reasons why filming took so long.

As the four began climbing, a breathtaking scene greeted them: a beautiful lake surrounded by lush green arrow bamboo forest.

Even Han Sanping and Long Xiaoyang, both Sichuan natives, were awestruck. Wei Ming stopped to take photos.

Long Xiaoyang thought his cousin was going to photograph him—he immediately struck a pose and pulled Zhuoma, the little girl, beside him. Wei Ming asked them to move aside, not to spoil the shot.

At the time, photographing scenery instead of people was a luxury, especially in color—yet Han Sanping, a filmmaker, understood. It was too beautiful. This place was perfect for film—it would look stunning on screen.

It did look stunning: in the future, Li Lianjie and Liang Chaowei would fight here in "Hero," and Zhang Dahu's "The Legend of the Condor Heroes" would also film here. This place was called "Arrow Bamboo Sea."

Calling lakes "seas" seemed to be a local tradition in the southwest. Zhuoma introduced them to other lakes: Rhinoceros Sea, Reed Sea, Swan Sea, Mirror Sea.

Because Wei Ming had been distracted by the scenery and taken many photos—and snapped pictures of people when the views were ordinary—they arrived late. The crew was just wrapping up.

This scene didn't involve Zhao Debiao—he was the big boss, but his acting was mediocre, so his role was small and pivotal; he was mainly here to keep his girlfriend company.

Two months away from Yanjing and their familiar circle had accelerated their relationship. When Wei Ming arrived, he saw from afar that Zhao Debiao was biting into the apple that Yanzi had taken just two bites of.

He didn't know how far they'd gone.

The first to notice their approach was Zhen Zidan—he'd shaved his head and glued on a braid, playing Zhao Debiao's right-hand man. Though a subordinate, he had many fight scenes, especially with Yanzi's character, the young wife, who was Zhao Debiao's primary target.

But Zhen Zidan was a notch below Zhao Debiao—he shot with strict discipline. Wu Jing, however, being young, often demanded Yanzi hug him or lift him up, making Zhao Debiao fume and glare helplessly.

"Brother Ming? Is that Brother Ming?" Zhen Zidan called out. Zhao Debiao, who'd been squatting in front of Yanzi as they ate the apple, immediately stood up.

"Where? Where?!"

It had been nearly two months. Zhao Debiao had missed Brother Ming terribly. He shoved the rest of the apple into Yanzi's mouth and ran over to give Wei Ming a bear hug.

He was already muscular, and for the role he'd gained even more weight and muscle—he looked like a black bear. This hug was terrifying; Long Xiaoyang worried his cousin might vomit his lunch.

But Wei Ming wasn't helpless. For his future happiness, he never slackened his physical training. He calmly extended a finger and jabbed hard into Zhao Debiao's armpit.

"Ahh~" Zhao Debiao groaned and instantly released his grip.

Wei Ming smiled. "How's life on set?"

"What set? I haven't even acted much—I just do odd jobs." He said it with a grin, clearly not complaining.

Martial arts director Yuan Xiangren walked over. "Nonsense—you helped design moves too. Many of Danny's moves were designed by Ah Biao—fierce, powerful."

Zhen Zidan nodded beside him—he thought Brother Biao had real talent as a martial arts advisor.

Zhao Debiao waved it off humbly—he'd just read Wei Ming's novel thoroughly and understood these villains better, so he'd designed some brutal moves.

Later, Wei Ming chatted with the two directors, Xu Xiaoming and Yang Qitian, and the leads Yanzi and Jingzi, and introduced Han Sanping, the assistant from Emei Studio.

But Wei Ming noticed Yanzi's posture and gait—something was off, very off. It reminded him of the transformation Lin Jie had undergone after her first night at his home.

Could it be…

Wei Ming looked at Zhao Debiao. He decided he'd have a long night talk with him.

Dinner was the usual communal pot meal. To welcome Wei Ming and Han Sanping, they'd added a bit of meat.

But Zhao Debiao said it wasn't as good as Koro Noodles.

"Brother Ming, these Hong Kong guys brought a lot of Koro Noodles—you've probably never seen them. I won some off them before—so delicious. I'll get more from them later."

Koro Noodles were instant ramen. Zhao Debiao treated them like a delicacy, but they were just a few Hong Kong stuntmen who'd brought them because they feared poor food in mainland China—and they didn't have much left. They treasured them dearly.

Wei Ming said calmly, "If you want some, I'll ask my Hong Kong pen pal to send you some. It's not even valuable."

"Not valuable?" Zhao Debiao asked. They'd made it sound so high-end.

Wei Ming: "People with low incomes—too busy to cook or think restaurants too expensive—use this simple, convenient instant ramen to fill their stomachs. Of course, since the flavor's decent, it's better than dried noodles."

Zhao Debiao looked like his worldview had shattered. This… this amazing thing was for the poor?!

Then Hong Kong's poor must be incredibly lucky!

(Yesterday's guaranteed two-in-one)

(End of chapter)