Chapter 244: Debut on the New York Bestseller List

When Wei Ming arrived at the South Gate, he held a book and a cassette tape—Animal Ferocity and The Spring of the Sheep Herding Class—both obtained from a classmate of Liang Zuo, with Wei Ming promising to repay him later with a signed seal.

Sato Masashi was delighted with the gift and told Wei Ming he had come from Yuanmingyuan and planned to visit the Summer Palace next; coincidentally passing Peking University, he dropped by to see his new friend.

Wei Ming showed him and the interpreter around Peking University, introducing its historical and cultural landscape, with special emphasis on the university library.

"Our great leader once worked here—this is also where I work."

Upon hearing this, Sato Masashi bowed deeply in respect; this great man's name echoed across the world, and Sato admired him greatly.

Finally, Wei Ming treated Sato and his party to a meal at the faculty cafeteria—four dishes and one soup, with fish and meat.

Sato Masashi first praised the food as delicious, though much of it was polite formality.

Then he recalled the Shandong restaurant Huifeng Tang from the day before, raving about its braised fish slices, clearly still enchanted by the high-end restaurant's culinary skill.

Every country has its own culinary preferences; Wei Ming never expected foreigners to obsess over Chinese food, but it seemed Sato genuinely loved Chinese cuisine—he'd assumed they only ate raw fish.

So Wei Ming enthusiastically recommended to him Huazeyuan, Taifenglou, and other Shandong restaurants along with their signature dishes.

This put the interpreter in a bind, especially with dish names like clear-simmered fish fin and clay-pot fish bladder—he'd never tasted them himself, so he could only convey Wei Ming's descriptions by transliterating the names and adding explanations.

In the end, Wei Ming summed up: "Beijing's local cuisine isn't abundant, but as the nation's political and cultural center, it hosts the country's finest chefs; all major regional cuisines have established roots here. I've lived and worked in Beijing for over a year, yet I still haven't eaten at every restaurant—and every so often, an old-established place reopens."

Hearing this, Sato sighed deeply: "I didn't realize Wei Sang was so passionate about cuisine! I only regret I can't stay in China longer."

The interpreter added: "Teacher Wei has written many articles on Chinese cuisine—he's an authority on this subject."

Sato Masashi: "Sōdesu ne!"

Wei Ming: "No need to translate that—I understood."

Besides discussing food and music, Wei Ming also talked with Sato about Japanese literature and manga, topics Sato knew a little about.

His trip was part of a Japanese delegation, which included members from music, anime, film, business, and other fields.

One of the delegation's tasks was to introduce Osamu Tezuka's Astro Boy into the Chinese market.

This was a 1963 animation, yet it still felt fresh; after airing in China, it immediately caused a sensation and became a childhood memory for a generation.

Meanwhile, domestic animation had no outstanding TV series to match this impact, aside from the puppet film Afanti; Wei Ming felt this was an opportunity for him—Black Cat Detective, now in its fourth installment, was perfect for adaptation into a TV animation.

After seeing Sato Masashi off, Wei Ming continued writing his novel; it was nearly 200, 00 words now, a thick stack that filled him with pride.

When he grew tired in the middle, he casually wrote the song he'd promised to the New Star Concert—the lyrics were simple, but the melody still needed polishing.

Today was Saturday; tomorrow was a day off, and Wei Hong was going home. Her older brother directly rode his motorcycle to the dorm and took her away in front of his roommates.

Even Wei Hong's two roommates in Beijing envied her; according to Wei Hong, her brother lived in a 150-square-meter overseas Chinese apartment, where neighbors were either great painters or eminent professors.

After returning home, Wei Hong immediately turned on the TV and told Xu Shufen: "Mom, today's Japanese concert will be broadcast on TV—come watch! You might even see me!"

Xu Shufen brought out dinner: "What? You're on TV?!"

"Maybe. My brother's definitely going to be on TV—he got a guitar as a gift from a foreign friend."

Wei Ming felt uneasy—had they filmed him with Lin Jie? Even if they had, would Xue Jie even see it?

Just as Wei Ming's family prepared to watch TV, in Gong Yu's home in Shanghai, the family was about to eat dinner.

Gong Yu usually stayed at the Shanghai Film Studio guesthouse, where she had a private room—more comfortable and convenient for filming.

Today, rare as it was to return home, her mother prepared a full table of her favorite Shanghai dishes; her father, wearing reading glasses, read the newspaper—mostly local news.

"Wow, look at this couple—they had a baby weighing over ten catties!" Gong Yuandong exclaimed.

His wife Zhuang Che leaned over: "Let me see—this baby's as big as two of our little Xue."

When Gong Yu was born, she weighed only slightly over five catties—the lightest of all the children; hearing her mother tease her, she pouted immediately, and if Wei Ming saw it, he'd surely kiss her.

Gong Yuandong said: "Not surprising—their parents are both basketball players; the father is over two meters tall, the mother nearly one meter ninety."

Zhuang Che: "No wonder—this child will surely be no shorter than two meters when grown."

"Definitely a great basketball player," Gong Yuandong said, putting down the newspaper to eat. At that moment, their son Gong Xu turned on the TV—it was time for the News Broadcast.

After dinner, they finished watching the weather forecast—tomorrow would be another sunny day.

Gong Yu had returned home specifically to ask about her sister's progress with Ah Long, so after dinner she immediately pulled her sister into the bedroom for interrogation.

Gong Ying: "Oh, we just chat, since he can't come and I can't go."

Unlike Gong Yu, who traveled far and wide, Gong Ying had never left Jiangsu-Zhejiang-Shanghai; her farthest trip had been to Suzhou and Hangzhou—she couldn't imagine living in dry northern China.

"Sis, how about you?"

"We're fine—he's coming to Shanghai to revise his novel once he finishes this one," Gong Yu blushed; this was what Wei Ming had written in his last letter—a perfect excuse for a short stay in Shanghai.

And a long novel might take a month or more to revise.

As the sisters talked, they heard singing—Japanese music—and immediately went out to see a bespectacled, refined man playing and singing to himself on TV.

"What's this?" Gong Ying asked.

Mother Zhuang Che said: "They say he's a famous Japanese singer—Sato, Sato…"

"Sato Masashi," the sister-in-law said.

"Yes, sounds nice."

The whole family sat down to listen; the camera showed not only the singer but also the audience below.

Suddenly, Gong Yu exclaimed: "Ah!"

"What's wrong?"

Gong Yu: "I just thought I saw Xi Zi!"

The sister-in-law laughed: "Your little boy?"

Perhaps because Xi Zi naturally looked amusing, the cameraman gave him a long close-up—and the man holding him looked like Wei Ming's younger sister, Xiao Hong!

"Not surprising," said Mother Zhuang Che. "His little sister is a little pop star, after all." She remembered this bold little kid vividly.

Shortly after her mother spoke, Gong Yu saw Lu Xiaoyan holding a little girl; she didn't know Le Le well—only met her a few times—but she had lived side by side with Lu Xiaoyan for a long time and wouldn't mistake her.

Seeing Lu Xiaoyan and her husband, Xi Le, and Wei Hong made Gong Yu certain Wei Ming was present—and perhaps she'd see him next.

So Gong Yu stared fixedly at the TV, no longer listening to the songs, cursing the screen for being too small, afraid she'd miss Wei Ming.

In this era of long-distance love, with no video calls, seeing your loved one's moving image was extremely rare.

But when the concert ended, Gong Yu still hadn't spotted Wei Ming, and felt disappointed; her mother Zhuang Che sensed her daughter's mood shift immediately.

But then, unexpectedly, the broadcast showed behind-the-scenes footage after the concert; a voiceover explained that the renowned young writer and musician Wei Ming had gifted Sato Masashi a set of lyrics, and Sato Masashi returned the favor with a guitar he'd used for over ten years.

This segment was meant to symbolize Sino-Japanese friendship—it was Wei Ming's first appearance on TV, but given the limited reach and clarity of television media then, its impact was probably less than his previous appearance in the People's Daily.

Gong Ying frantically winked at her second sister: "Tsk tsk, your man's on TV now!"

Back in her room, Gong Yu began writing a letter, planning to discuss the concert with Xiao Wei—too bad she hadn't listened carefully.

In Beijing, Wei Ming also breathed a sigh of relief after watching the segment—he'd been filmed, but Lin Jie hadn't.

The next day was a lucky day—two joys coincided, both tied to the surname Mei.

First thing in the morning, Wei Ming received a package from Melinda in the U. .; he immediately rode his motorcycle to the Beichi Zi Sihe Academy, closed the door, and opened it.

The package was mostly books.

There was the American edition of The Game of the Brave, nearly identical to the British version.

There was also Stephen King's The Burning Gaze, the top-selling novel in North America at the time—a horror-thriller; this guy had been a regular on bestseller lists for years.

Another was Risk Investment: Opportunities and Profits in the Great Depression, a finance book even more popular than The Burning Gaze.

Previously, Wei Ming had written to Melinda asking her to buy his sister a finance book; she chose this bestseller.

One, to learn knowledge; two, to learn English.

Alongside these was a copy of Playboy, something Wei Ming had absolutely no use for—pfft, I have a girlfriend.

After reading, Wei Ming hid the magazine in a secret corner of his study.

Among these publications was also $1, 00 in cash and a HSBC bank deposit slip for $20, 00!

Adding this to his previous savings, Wei Ming now had $25, 00 deposited at HSBC—he could use it in Hong Kong; he couldn't buy a house, but a car was no problem.

This was the royalty income from The Game of the Brave's North American market—and this was only the first payment; further printings might follow depending on sales, and each reprint meant more money; Wei Ming still had high hopes for this story's financial potential.

After all, it was a market of over 200 million people with strong purchasing power; Melinda said the first print run reached 100, 00 copies, though all were paperbacks.

The package also included foreign newspaper reviews of The Game of the Brave and data from the New York Bestseller List.

Though not matching Lin Yutang's achievements, as a Chinese writer, reaching the top twenty in the first week—and still remaining on the list, peaking at #8—was already worth boasting about.

After all, it was a top-ten spot on the prestigious New York Bestseller List, and #1 in the children's category, praised by critics.

Melinda sent these newspapers to Wei Ming to help him promote himself; having lived in China for two years, she understood how desperately China needed external validation—these newspapers would solidify his title as "King of Fairy Tales."

Additionally, Melinda wrote in her letter that she was urgently studying African culture to better capture the spirit of The Lion King in translation.

She could have handed it to a professional translator, but to earn that translator's fee, she was determined—this wasn't a small sum, and she believed in the sales potential of Wei Ming's work.

After reading Melinda's letter, Wei Ming replied immediately; besides thanking her for her hard work, he asked her to find him books about dinosaurs—his next creative direction.

Cutting-edge paleontological science was richer in the U. ., and since his primary market was overseas, he should follow Western perspectives.

After writing the letter, Wei Ming mailed the international letter, then went to China Youth Daily and called his old friend reporter Zhu Wei, handing him the newspapers Melinda had sent.

"What's this?"

Wei Ming: "The Game of the Brave made it onto the New York Bestseller List—peaked at #8 weekly, #1 in children's books—and here are some reviews; I've circled them."

Zhu Wei's face lit up—this was incredible!

"No wonder you're Wei the Writer—you conquered the British, now you're taking on the Americans!"

Wei Ming smiled: "Are these enough for you to write an article?"

"One article? I'll write several!" Zhu Wei said. "But I'll need help with translation—it won't be quick. Wei Writer, these newspapers you provided are invaluable!"

He gripped them tightly, eyes gleaming.

This wasn't just Wei Ming's victory; on a larger scale, it was a victory for Chinese children's literature!

"It's my duty—I'll leave you to it."

Zhu Wei hurriedly said: "Wei Writer, let me treat you to dinner."

Wei Ming laughed: "I've always been the one treating others to meals—how could I let you pay? But today I've got something to do; let's reschedule. Next time, it's on me."

"Alright then."

Zhu Wei watched Wei Ming ride away on his bike, marveling that Writer Wei was truly a model for China's youth—this story deserved not just a feature in the China Youth Daily, but also promotion in China Youth magazine.

After leaving the China Youth Daily, Wei Ming went to Dongfang Xintiandi, where Wei Hong was also present.

Another piece of good news today was the wedding of Mei Wenhua and Xu Yunyun.

The proof from their hometown in Sichuan had arrived, so Yunyun and Mei Wenhua would officially register their marriage.

Wei Ming and Wei Hong planned to accompany them through the process—it might be useful later, and Wei Ming wanted to familiarize himself with the procedure ahead of time.

They'd get the certificate now, but the wedding could wait; once Wei Jiefang and Zhao Debiao returned to Beijing, they could invite relatives from Sichuan to host the ceremony. Registering now was just for peace of mind—they feared marriage policies might change.

It was Sunday, and the shop was busy. Little Mei, holding the certificate, beamed: "We need to get back quickly. Let's treat everyone to dinner tomorrow."

Wei Ming: "I might not be free tomorrow—Feng Ge is moving."

"His place is ready?"

"Yeah."

Mei Wenhua also thought of his own new apartment—it wasn't ready yet. The family planning supplies he'd been given hadn't been used yet, and now he'd just received three more.

The next day at noon, not only did Wei Ming come to help Feng Ge move, but Mei Wenhua came too. They finished the job in one trip on the school's tricycle, since Feng Ge hadn't owned much to begin with.

Feng Ge was the first to move into the new faculty housing block, hoping his child could be born into a new home with good fortune.

Though the apartment was only about forty square meters inside, it could be divided into two bedrooms—far more spacious than before. Feng Ge could finally move back home; since Wei Ming and the other two had left the dorm, he'd found living there meaningless.

Feng Ge's mother-in-law smiled at the new apartment: "Wait, I'll go prepare something for you to eat."

Mei Wenhua joked: "Auntie, such a big occasion as a housewarming—why not treat everyone to a restaurant?"

"Waste money on that," the old lady snapped. In truth, she was now an unofficial member of Dongfang Xintiandi and very wealthy.

To ease Feng Ge's financial burden, Dongfang Xintiandi had let her pick out the best of the defective clothes before returns, selling them at cost price at markets around Hai Store—her monthly income now exceeded Feng Ge's, yet her frugal nature remained unchanged.

Just as the old lady left, Mu Rong suddenly cried out: "Oh no!"

Feng Ge: "What's wrong?"

Mu Rong: "My water broke."

Naturally, the housewarming dinner was canceled. They'd planned to take her to Peking University Affiliated Hospital, but Mu Rong's labor came too fast—she was screaming loudly.

So, under the gaze of students on campus, they wheeled her straight to the school clinic. Mu Rong said their Dean Su would deliver the baby.

Little Mei had planned to leave after dinner, but now she stayed, curious to see what the baby would be.

Wei Ming said: "Go get us some food from the cafeteria—childbirth can take hours."

"Got it." Little Mei shook his stylish jacket.

Wealth without returning home is like wearing brocade in the dark—he'd come back today to show his former colleagues how well he was doing now.

Later, Little Mei came back with the old lady, carrying food boxes. Wei Ming smiled: "Auntie, congratulations—you're a grandmother now!"

Mei Wenhua: "So fast? I just ate a meal."

Of course, they passed around cigarettes, showed off, and received a chorus of congratulations.

Old Lady Mu hurriedly asked: "What is it? Boy or girl?"

"A girl," Wei Ming said, not seeing anything wrong with it—but both the old lady and Mu Rong, still recovering, couldn't hide their disappointment.

Both women wanted a son. Feng Ge wanted one too, but not as desperately.

And yet—it was a daughter.

Wei Ming tugged at Mei Wenhua's sleeve; they slipped away quietly.

Mei Wenhua muttered: "A daughter's great—daughters are little cotton-padded jackets for their parents. My own parents always wanted a daughter."

Wei Ming shook his head: "That's because they already had two sons. But now they have no grandchildren—ask them again: do they want a grandson or a granddaughter?"

The brother-in-law's question left Mei Wenhua stunned—it did make sense.

"Ah, forget it—I'm not even thinking about having kids yet," he said, eager to enjoy his two-person world. "Let's have a small gathering tonight—bring Xiao Hong. I'm craving Lao Mo."

Wei Ming: "Fine. I've got a gift for you two."

After Mei Wenhua left, Wei Ming called Sha Ping at the Yanjing Evening News to pick up the song—and to take a few more concert tickets.

This new star concert was being held at the Capital Sports Arena, with over ten thousand tickets per show—far more seats than the Beizhan Theater. Since he'd contributed a song for free, asking for extra tickets was perfectly reasonable.

But this time he was smarter: there were two shows—he'd take more tickets for the first, to go with family and friends, and only two for the second, just him and Lin Jie.

That night at Lao Mo, only the new couple and the brother-in-law and sister-in-law were there. Wei Ming and Xiao Hong didn't hold back—ordered braised beef, cream-baked fish, black caviar—everything expensive.

Even if next month's dividend dropped sharply, it wouldn't break him. Even if he only got a thousand yuan a month, it still exceeded the combined salaries of their entire family.

Of course, Wei Ming's gift was even more valuable than the meal—a painting by Qi Baishi of mandarin ducks. Though modest in quality and size, the ducks carried auspicious meaning; right now it was worth more than the meal, and in the future, easily worth hundreds of thousands.

Everyone enjoyed the meal, but after, a conflict arose.

Wei Ming: "I've got something urgent—I'll need you to take them home, Xiao Mei."

"Big brother, the shop isn't closed yet. Yunyun and I have to finish up. You go."

Wei Ming: "I can't—I'm in a hurry. Take them home first, then come back."

"Big brother, could you just run there once?" Mei Wenhua refused to budge, frantically signaling Wei Ming.

Wei Hong didn't understand—she felt hurt, as if rejected.

But Wei Ming understood—they wanted to do the same thing.

Considering they'd already registered their marriage, Wei Ming gave in—he first took Wei Hong home, then went to the Beijing Film Studio guesthouse to find Lin Jie.

Meanwhile, Mei Wenhua and Yunyun announced early closing at the shop, sent the staff home, then shut the door and turned off the lights.

"Mu Rong had the baby!" Zhu Lin exclaimed happily. "I need to go see her."

"Didn't you start filming?" Wei Ming asked, hands still moving.

"We started, but Da Shichang's scenes are heavy at first—I'm not busy yet. I'll go see her tonight."

Wei Ming: "I'll pick you up, go with you, and bring you back."

"Mm."

Wei Ming kissed Lin Jie's lips: "I'm this good—let me stay, okay?"

Zhu Lin glanced at the wall, lowering her voice: "Don't even think about it. You have to leave before ten."

Wei Ming: "Then you've got to let me out before ten~"

(End of Chapter)