Chapter 266

Tuanjie Lake.

Wei Ming glanced at Xiao Mei and Biaozi's room as he passed by; both lights were on, curtains drawn—probably still savoring the afterglow of their honeymoon.

He walked straight into Zhu Lin's house in the other building and found Sister Lin already in her pajamas, leaning against the bed reading.

"Look what I brought you!" Wei Ming shook the bag in his hand, faintly hearing the sound of glass clinking.

Zhu Lin put down the book she was reading for leisure: "Peach in syrup?"

Wei Ming pulled out two glass jars of peach syrup—but inside were chili sauce.

"This one's made by my mom, this one by my grandma—they're just a little something from them."

Zhu Lin was about to smile, then suddenly retracted it: "Does Gong Rui have some too?"

"Gong Rui? Oh right, you reminded me—I'll send her a jar too. Don't think she's from Shanghai; she lived in Jiangxi for years—she likes sweet and spicy, unlike you, who prefers sour."

Zhu Lin threw a pillow at him; he caught it, and they both laughed.

This answer mostly satisfied Zhu Lin—he didn't deliberately avoid Gong Rui's name, but the chili sauce was first meant for her.

So Wei Ming took off his coat, crawled into bed, and hugged Sister Lin tightly, burying his face in her chest.

At that moment, Zhu Lin was still thinking about Gong Rui—wondering if there was some ambiguity between them, but nothing crossed the line; wondering if Gong Rui didn't even know the true nature of her relationship with Xiao Wei, and wasn't deliberately trying to steal him.

It's all the men's fault!

But then she remembered this man was leaving tomorrow—those messy thoughts suddenly became unimportant. She gently hugged his fuzzy head, closed her eyes in comfort, and soon let him have his way.

He roared; she cried out; the Simmons mattress roared!

"Tell me about your movie script—what's it called?"

After their first round, just before Wei Ming was about to start a second, Zhu Lin suddenly brought up the topic.

Wei Ming didn't hide anything: "It's called 'Mom, Love Me One More Time.' Before I tell you the plot, let me tell you a story…"

Zhu Lin: So it's the name Gong Rui mentioned—clearly they've communicated before!

When Wei Ming finished telling the story of the mad mother he'd met in Zigong, the script's plot was already clear—no need to elaborate further. Zhu Lin's eyes were already wet.

She was defenseless now, so Wei Ming took advantage—Sister Lin cried even harder.

At the same time, she realized this pitiful mother character was perfect for Gong Rui—she looked so delicate, so lovable; someone like her, a Beijing girl with Shandong roots, had no trace of weakness or vulnerability.

Maybe this script was Wei Ming's gift to win Gong Rui's heart—custom-made for her!

Thinking of this, Zhu Lin cried even harder—her tears held both bitter resentment and the body's instinctive excitement.

Then the third time was Zhu Lin's idea—simple and pure: she wanted to feed him full, so he'd return to Shanghai with no more such thoughts.

Though she knew it was her own wishful thinking—Wei Ming was young, strong, recovered quickly; no matter how much he spent that night, he'd replenish fast by morning—she still did it, for the psychological comfort it gave her.

Wei Ming was utterly confused—why was his sister rewarding him?

And there was another reward first thing tomorrow morning!

She slapped her butt and headed to Beiyingchang for work; Wei Ming, however, lay there for a long while before getting up—Oh no, he still had to catch his flight!

Refreshed and energized, Zhu Lin rushed to Beiyingchang, then saw Gong Rui at the gate, registering.

Zhu Lin frowned—thought the woman had come looking for her. Such a little thing couldn't possibly be a rival, especially since she'd just been infused with energy this morning.

Then she heard the gatekeeper point Gong Rui toward Director Wang Yang's office.

"Comrade Gong Rui." Zhu Lin put on a smile and greeted her.

Gong Rui paused: "Oh, Comrade Zhu Lin, hello. Don't you live at Beiyingchang?"

"I'm a local—I sometimes go home to stay." Zhu Lin walked in beside her.

"Oh, right—I used to go home often when I was at Shangyingchang too," Gong Rui smiled.

"What do you want with the director?" Zhu Lin asked.

Gong Rui didn't answer directly: "There are some official matters between our unit and Beiyingchang."

Zhu Lin didn't know what official business the two units had, but between them, there were private matters to settle.

"Will you have lunch at Beiyingchang? I'll treat you," Zhu Lin invited.

Gong Rui clenched her fist slightly, but kept her expression calm: "How about we eat outside? I saw a small restaurant."

Zhu Lin thought for a moment: "Fine."

By now, Wei Ming had gotten up. Going home before heading to the airport was too late—but his things had all been brought over yesterday.

So he grabbed his luggage, went downstairs to Biaozi and Xiao Mei's building, and shouted: "Mei Wenhua! Zhao Debiao! You home?"

Then he saw both of them appear on their respective balconies.

Wei Ming was surprised: "What's going on? It's this time of day and you're not at work?"

"I was going to go—I'm already dressed," Biaozi said.

Mei Wenhua was still in pajamas, dark circles under his eyes—probably just woken up.

Wei Ming: "Biaozi, take me to the airport, then bring the motorcycle back to Huajiao Apartment."

Soon, both Biaozi and Xiao Mei came downstairs.

Mei Wenhua yawned, looking drained from too much sex: "For safety, I won't see you off—I'll just meet you at the shop later."

Wei Ming didn't even bother replying—addicted to lust, what could he ever accomplish?

Biaozi chuckled: "You two planning to have kids? Haven't seen you leave the house these past two days."

Mei Wenhua: "Of course! My parents are frantic—I've already handed out five red envelopes. With this momentum, maybe she'll get pregnant."

Biaozi was stunned: "I gave five too—fifty yuan total—but my wife's already pregnant! So I wasted my money!"

As the instigator, Wei Ming quickly changed the subject: "By the way, remember to hang your business license in the shop—it's good publicity."

Mei Wenhua nodded and handed him yesterday's People's Daily.

Page three reported on the East New World and this shop's two young managers, with photos of them holding their individual business licenses.

They'd been officially promoted as positive role models—chances they'd end up in textbooks were higher now.

Wei Ming told them: "Since the higher-ups are treating you so well, now's the time to raise your political standing. Aren't there elections for representatives happening in every district? Put in some effort—you might have a shot. With that status, we won't abuse privilege, but at least we'll have more self-protection."

Mei Wenhua listened, nodded seriously.

Biaozi started up Wei Ming's motorcycle: "Brother Ming, let's go."

These past two days had been consumed by wedding chaos—little time to talk. Now, on the way, Wei Ming could chat with Biaozi.

"Yanzi's pregnant now—what are her plans for her career?" Wei Ming asked.

"She definitely won't have an abortion. There was a national competition at year-end, but she's not entering anymore. I'm thinking she should help out at the shop," Biaozi said.

It was still a pity—this was supposed to be Huang Jiaoyan's prime years for winning championships, now gone.

Wei Ming: "Health and the baby matter most—it's unavoidable."

Biaozi added: "She says she really likes acting—it's hard, but she gets to travel. Still, she'll think about it after the baby's born."

Wei Ming could help here—mainland China had never produced a major female martial arts star; Huang Jiaoyan had the potential.

"What about you, Biaozi?"

Biaozi thought: "I'm lost. I'm not as smart as you or Xiao Mei—I'm bad at business. For acting, I've got good looks, but my acting's worse than Yanzi's. I don't even know what I'm fit for."

Wei Ming smiled: "At least you can start by being a good father."

Biaozi was enlightened: "Yes, yes! I can be a great dad! I've decided—I'll have five kids with Yanzi. I'll teach them literature and martial arts every day, raise them to be talented!"

"Get real—you'll be fined to death."

"Why?"

"Just wait for the new policy."

At the airport, Biaozi watched until Wei Ming boarded before leaving.

Meanwhile, Zhu Lin finished work and walked to the factory gate—Gong Rui was waiting outside for her.

The two silently went to the small restaurant, ordered two bowls of noodles and two side dishes.

Zhu Lin pulled out a jar of chili sauce from her bag.

"I heard you did rural labor in Jiangxi—you can handle spice, right? Try some."

"Sure," Gong Rui accepted Zhu Lin's goodwill and praised it effusively: "Delicious! So fragrant! Did your mom make this?"

"My mom couldn't do this," Zhu Lin replied. "This is from Aunt Xu."

"Which Aunt Xu?"

"Wei Ming's mom."

Gong Rui's noodle-eating motion froze.

Zhu Lin smiled triumphantly, calmly eating her noodles—so delicious!

Gong Rui looked at Zhu Lin: "Comrade Zhu Lin, how old are you?"

"I was born in '52—birthday this month. Why?" At the mention of age, Zhu Lin grew sensitive.

Gong Rui smiled: "I was born in '53—so I'll call you Sister, like Xiao Wei does. I'm transferring to Beiyingchang—I'll be working here often, so I'll need your help."

"What? You're transferring to Beiyingchang?" Zhu Lin put down her chopsticks. "That's why you came today."

Gong Rui nodded: "Yes. Our unit is restructuring. My superiors asked if I wanted to stick with theater or switch entirely to film. I thought about it—I prefer film, so I need a film studio to transfer into."

Earlier, she'd been torn between Wei Ming and his family's hometown—but now that their relationship had crossed the line, she understood: she belonged to him completely. Where he was, she would be.

She'd invited Zhu Lin to lunch today to hint at her relationship with Wei Ming—she was defending the happiness she'd fought for.

She could see Zhu Lin also had feelings for Wei Ming—no surprise, he was too outstanding. But sorry—I got here first. So you'll be our good sister.

But Zhu Lin thought the same—she wanted to make clear her relationship with Wei Ming to scare Gong Rui off. Yet Gong Rui didn't retreat—she charged forward.

Now both had put down their chopsticks, staring intently at each other.

"You…"

"I…"

Both spoke at once; Gong Ying said gently, "Sister, you go first."

Zhu Lin lowered her voice: "Do you know what my relationship with him is?"

Gong Ying shot back: "I think you probably don't understand my relationship with him either."

Zhu Lin smiled, then rubbed her belly.

Gong Ying's face turned pale; she pointed at Zhu Lin's stomach.

Zhu Lin said softly: "That's right—I'm full."

"..." Gong Ying wiped sweat from her forehead, nearly thinking the other had just unleashed her ultimate technique.

"I thought we could be friends, but now it seems we're better off as rivals," Zhu Lin stood up. "Let's each rely on our own merits from now on—see who he chooses."

"Wait." Gong Ying called out to Zhu Lin.

Zhu Lin turned back. What? Scared? Ready to back out?

Gong Ying pointed at Zhu Lin's bag: "Can I have one more spoon of that chili sauce?"

What a greedy little glutton, Zhu Lin thought, speechless. She walked back and gave her another spoonful. "Eat, go on."

Zhu Lin left immediately. Gong Ying devoured the noodles in big bites; as she ate, tears began to plop into the bowl.

"So spicy!"

Gong Ying ate every last drop of broth and noodles, self-punishingly, her throat burning from overeating.

Though she didn't know how far Wei Ming and Zhu Lin's relationship had gone, she sensed she wasn't the only one in Wei Ming's heart.

Fine, she'd never been his only one—he'd always kept a place for Melinda, first love, she could understand, even tolerate, especially since they were oceans apart. But now there was another: Zhu Lin.

Does falling for an outstanding man mean you must face endless challenges?

And what about Zhang Yu? Is she going to fight me for him too?

Hmph, I'm not someone to be trifled with. After shedding tears and breaking into a sweat, Gong Ying stepped out of the noodle shop, ready to regroup.

Zhu Lin, just wait—we'll see who laughs last!

Right now, Wei Ming and I have already had a physical relationship, and we even have a love nest in the Magic City. We've shared so many experiences and memories—I don't see how I could lose!

The only solution Gong Ying could think of was to move their relationship to Beijing, to stay by Wei Ming's side and absolutely refuse long-distance.

She guessed that during her time in the Magic City, Wei Ming had felt lonely, and Zhu Lin had taken advantage. She didn't blame Zhu Lin—she might have been unaware.

Zhu Lin, too, wasn't sitting idle. She believed in knowing yourself and knowing your enemy, so after finishing work that afternoon, she immediately went to the Jingshan Clothing Factory to find her classmate Li Chengru.

"Oh my, Zhu Lin, what brings you here?" Li Chengru, seeing the envious glances from his coworkers, felt his vanity swell.

"I forgot when classes start—I came to ask you."

"Classes begin in January," Li Chengru said.

"Oh, January? By then our crew should be wrapping up—we can focus on studying," Zhu Lin smiled, then asked, "Chengru, you still help people find apartments, right? I heard you were the one who introduced Wei Ming to his Sihe Academy."

"Funny thing—back then, a childhood friend of mine was moving abroad, so he sold his ancestral home to Writer Wei. I just passed along the message."

"When was that?"

"Man, that was about half a year ago."

Zhu Lin's lips twitched. Half a year? Already half a year!

Half a year ago, she and Wei Ming had been struggling to decide where to have sex—but back then, Wei Ming already had a Sihe Academy, yet he'd kept it secret. Was there some secret about that Sihe Academy he couldn't tell her?

Originally, Zhu Lin thought Gong Ying was the third party intruding on her and Wei Ming's relationship. Now she was confused—who was the real third party?

After returning to the Magic City, Wei Ming immediately went to the Harvest editorial office to collect the next hundred thousand words of manuscript and revision notes. He started working fast before Xue Jie returned—maybe he could still make it in time for Lin Jie's birthday.

He no longer lacked money, yet he was burdened with too many debts to live easily.

The next morning, he received a letter from Director Wu Tianming, mailed from Xi'an. In it, Wu expressed his desire to film "The Ancient and Modern Battle of the Terracotta Lovers."

"I've never tackled fantasy material before, but since it's about the Terracotta Warriors—and since it's your story, Teacher Wei—I'm willing to give it a try, and I hope for your permission. You should write the screenplay..."

Great, another creditor. Wei Ming thought for a moment, then wrote Wu Tianming a reply, discussing how the film should be made.

He still hoped the film could be a co-production with Hong Kong, made stylishly, then promoted overseas—at least to Hong Kong—to use the movie to publicize the Terracotta Warriors as Xi'an's signature attraction.

Two more days passed, and Gong Ying returned from Beijing. The two met outside immediately and had dinner.

Gong Ying's expression was calm; she didn't mention her confrontation with Zhu Lin at all.

Though she felt hurt inside, she remembered Wei Ming's age—young men were naturally playful, fickle. But he was truly devoted to her.

He'd handed over nearly thirty thousand yuan for that old Western-style house, plus thousands more for renovation, without blinking. Such a man was hard to find even with a lantern.

"Sister Xue, let's go check on the house renovation tonight," Wei Ming suggested after dinner, proposing some post-meal activity.

Gong Ying gave him a look. "All you think about is that. Do you want me—or just that?"

"I want to do that with you. Sometimes I don't know how to express love—words feel too empty. So I just act."

Gong Ying thought: Your "action" has specific moves—you've corrupted me completely.

On the way to the old Western-style house, Gong Ying recommended Xi Zi to Wei Ming.

"What do you think of Xi Zi playing Little Gourd?"

Wei Ming worried: "Little Gourd has a lot of crying scenes. Can Xi Zi handle it?"

Gong Ying: "If you eat candy in front of him but don't give him any, he bursts into tears immediately—I've got experience."

Wei Ming stared at Sister Gong. So this is how you play sister-in-law!

"Alright, when the studio comes looking, I'll recommend you both together—bundled sale." Speaking of bundling, he wondered how well his sister would take to that kind of play.

Wei Ming stroked his chin and drifted into fantasy.

He didn't wait long. A few days later, the final issue of Flower City for the year was released.

Peking University.

At the wedding, Liu Zhenyun had told Wei Ming about writing a book review in advance. Wei Ming promised to lend him his backup draft after returning from the Magic City.

But Liu Zhenyun hadn't expected Wei Ming to have other works.

Before class, Dai Jinhua walked into the classroom holding a copy of Flower City, sat behind Liu Zhenyun, and told a classmate: "Hey, this issue of Flower City has a piece by Teacher Wei."

The classmate laughed: "What delicacy is Teacher Wei writing about this time?"

She assumed Wei Ming had written another food essay, but Dai Jinhua said: "Not an essay—a screenplay. The title doesn't sound like Wei Ming at all, but I haven't read it yet."

"What? A screenplay by Wei Ming? Let me see, Old Dai." Liu Zhenyun turned around.

Dai Jinhua: "We're in class."

"Moral education class doesn't matter—I've got high moral character anyway."

Dai Jinhua, who planned to pay attention anyway, had no time to read, so she lent him the magazine: "Return it after class."

"Thanks, Old Dai!" Liu Zhenyun beamed—he'd just saved money on buying the magazine.

This issue of Flower City had no standout works or big-name authors. Though it included Shi Tiesheng's short story "Brothers," it wasn't representative—everyone knew Shi Tiesheng's essays were better.

So even though Wei Ming had only submitted a screenplay, from the table of contents, it was clearly the most compelling piece.

But after reading for an hour, Liu Zhenyun decisively closed the magazine and assumed a posture of attentive listening.

Behind him, Dai Jinhua was puzzled. Had Teacher Wei finally failed? Was it that bad?

Of course—novels and screenplays are different. Someone who writes great novels isn't necessarily good at screenplays.

But after class, Liu Zhenyun immediately reopened the magazine.

Dai Jinhua tapped Liu Zhenyun: "Zhenyun, time to return the magazine."

Liu Zhenyun turned around—Dai Jinhua was horrified: "You—you've been crying?"

Liu Zhenyun wiped his nose: "No! Real men don't cry easily!"

Dai Jinhua replied: "Only when the heart is broken. What's wrong?"

Liu Zhenyun pointed at the text in the magazine: "It's... it's so damn moving!"

During class, when Liu Zhenyun realized Wei Ming had planted an emotional bomb, he stopped reading immediately—otherwise he'd have burst into tears right there.

But the story was addictive. His resistance failed. As soon as class ended, he opened the magazine again.

Seeing him like this, Dai Jinhua let him finish.

That night, Dai Jinhua finally retrieved the magazine and read it quietly in her dorm.

Other roommates had also bought the issue; since they'd read it earlier, they were already crying.

This sight startled Dai Jinhua. Should I even read this?

One roommate, still sniffling, said: "If you're expecting something like 'The Herdsman' or 'The Children of the Choir,' don't bother—its literary and artistic merit is far behind. But it's just so heartbreaking."

Dai Jinhua scoffed: "I'm the coldest person alive. A screenplay won't make me cry. Impossible. Absolutely impossible."

After lights out, roommates called out: "Old Dai, are you done crying? We've got early class tomorrow!"

(End of Chapter)