Chapter 274: The Right Path of Humanity Is Change

In his past life, Wei Ming had dealings with Ma Weidu; he suggested Ma submit his debut novel to China Youth Daily because it had originally been published there, resonating strongly with young readers and achieving considerable influence—essentially a smash hit.

Thanks to this work, he rose to become an editor at China Youth Daily's sister publication, Youth Literature magazine, where he met writers Wang Shuo, Su Tong, and Liu Zhenyun during his tenure, building his literary network.

After reading Ma Weidu's manuscript, Wei Ming continued writing the screenplay for The Burning of the Old Summer Palace.

The next morning, he woke to find the world blanketed in snow, a vast white expanse.

Old Wei had watched the News Broadcast the night before, which predicted heavy snow the next day, so he'd already covered the motorcycle and bicycles downstairs with plastic sheeting.

But riding a motorcycle to school wasn't advisable now—the snow hadn't been cleared yet, and it was too slippery; Wei Ming chose to take the bus.

On the snowy morning, Wei Ming received a letter from Sister Xue.

On the bus, he found a seat and sat at the back to read the letter, along with a photo: Sister Xue standing in the courtyard of an old Western-style house, smiling and making a peace sign.

In the letter, she told Wei Ming: "The house is fully renovated. I used your leftover money to buy some furniture that matches the house's character—you can see for yourself next time you come. Oh, I also bought a record player and some vintage records; we can dance in the living room then."

Wei Ming guessed he'd soon be heading to Shanghai; he planned to finish revising the second volume of The Right Path of Humanity Is Change before the New Year, though he wasn't sure if Sister Xue would still be in Shanghai then—if she wasn't, he could revise in Beijing without needing to stay at a guesthouse.

She added: "Location scouting in Shanghai is complete. Shanghai Film Studio provided considerable help. I, the director, and the art director plan to go to Subei next week. If the chance arises, I'll visit the little boy you mentioned, Dongzi."

These tasks didn't normally require an actress's personal involvement, but Gong Yu wanted to immerse herself earlier in the story's atmosphere to better embody her role.

Finally, Sister Xue wrote some sentimental words, but there were things she didn't say.

For instance, the person who took the photo was Zhu Lin; and the mention of dancing in the living room subtly implied Wei Ming dancing with Zhu Lin. Hmph, she'd dance too—and learn yoga as well.

When Gong Yu returned, Zhu Lin was about to travel with the Happiness Team crew to Shandong; on Zhu Lin's last day before leaving, Gong Yu invited her to visit the old Western-style house.

Two stories high, with about ten rooms and five bathrooms alone; the courtyard was so large it could accommodate two cherry trees and two flowering cherry trees, not counting other potted plants and flowers.

Upon learning the house's price, Zhu Lin's hands trembled as she took photos of Gong Yu, and she sucked in a sharp breath.

Shocked, trembling, breathless!

Gong Yu patted Zhu Lin's shoulder to comfort her: "It's not like you can find a suitable apartment in Shanghai—he splurged on this big house so you can stay here when you come to Shanghai to film."

"Not 'when you come'—today."

That night, Zhu Lin stayed with Gong Yu in the old house, making Gong Yu beg and plead for mercy; the next morning, the two emerged from the same bed, disheveled and half-dressed.

Shanghai had no central heating; they had to generate warmth by rubbing against each other.

Unfortunately, Wei Ming never saw this scene.

After trying out the bed, Zhu Lin said: "An old Western-style house is just so-so—it's no better than my little apartment. I dare live alone in my tiny place; do you dare live alone in this big mansion?"

Gong Yu dared not.

After Zhu Lin left, Gong Yu quietly returned home; it was too dangerous outside now, and she wouldn't dare live alone. But if she invited Ying along, her parents would worry—how could two unmarried girls live outside all the time?

For the past half year, Gong Ying had maintained her romance with Liu Long through letters, without ever meeting in person.

But Long said he'd still come to Meiyingchang for his winter break internship, so they'd be together again.

Gong Ying was already planning to borrow the old house keys from her sister to meet Long—after all, her sister had said the servant's room downstairs was reserved for her.

Gong Yu was also calculating when Wei Ming would come to Shanghai to revise his manuscript; she'd return from Subei the moment he arrived, and then they could do many things in the old house—like tango, or yoga.

Meanwhile, at the Harvest editorial office, the leadership was discussing the initial print run for the first issue of Harvest in 1981.

This issue featured the first part of Wei Ming's novel, along with works by Chen Rong and Gao Xingjian—quite a strong lineup.

Yet they still dared not challenge the 1. million copies sold for the finale of Years of Wandering, since Harvest's usual circulation was only 400, 00 to 500, 00.

In the end, Ba Lao set the number at 600, 00—a relatively conservative figure: first, because The Right Path of Humanity Is Change wasn't currently the most popular genre.

Second, the issue of Huacheng that published Mom, Again I Love You had sold about 600, 00 copies.

Third, printing materials were tight; the state had repeatedly ordered an end to printing waste—selling out was fine, but unsold stock would cause negative repercussions.

So better to print less than too much.

After finalizing the print run, Ba Lao hurriedly flew to Beijing—Mr. Mao Dun's health was worsening, and no one knew if he'd survive the Spring Festival.

If Mr. Mao Dun passed away, the authorities intended for Ba Lao to take over the Writers' Association.

January 13th, the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month.

Wei Ming asked the security chief if he wanted to go out; the chief declined, so Wei Ming went alone to the Beichi Zi Sihe Academy to help his parents build a stove, cook Laba porridge, and soak Laba garlic—all the glass jars left over from canned food found new use.

Xu Shufen cooked a huge pot, with extremely rich ingredients; Manager Mei had said: add whatever you have, no cost limit.

So the large iron pot contained dried fruits like jujubes, raisins, goji berries, and silver ear fungus; nuts like peanuts and walnut kernels; legumes and grains like red beans, lotus seeds, glutinous rice, wheat kernels, rice, and white fruits (ginkgo nuts) from their own courtyard.

Xu Shufen said she'd never cooked such a lavish meal.

When the eight-treasure porridge was done, the entire Sihe Academy filled with fragrance; the dog, Ginkgo, barked excitedly, and the porridge was incredibly nutritious and nourishing.

Most of the porridge was sent by Wei Jiefang to Dongfang Xintiandi; the rest, besides what they ate themselves, was packed into two lunchboxes for Wei Anping and Xiao Hong.

Xiao Hong hadn't returned home recently due to final exams.

Xu Shufen: "Take this jar of Laba garlic to Uncle Anping too."

Wei Ming smiled: "Auntie Xiaoyan made her own."

"She made hers, I made mine—these are purple garlic, perfect for Laba garlic," Xu Shufen insisted.

She believed her son's current success stemmed largely from Uncle Anping arranging his job at Peking University—people must be grateful.

Wei Ming obediently complied; in the afternoon, he returned to Peking University and delivered the porridge to Xiao Hong's dormitory. It seemed like a lot, but six girls shared it—each got little.

Hong Kong.

On the rooftop of a tall building.

Old Ghost, wearing sunglasses, climbed up; Liu Bin, also wearing sunglasses, had been waiting.

"Uncle Ghost, in less than three months, I've mastered the McHamburger production process—can I go back now?"

"Not yet. Try this eight-treasure porridge," Old Ghost pulled out a lunchbox. "Along with it, some small dishes made by Afen—you've worked hard these past days."

"Not hard at all—I've eaten so many hamburgers I'm sick of them. These dishes are pure bliss," Liu Bin ate without caring for his cultured image.

Then Old Ghost asked: "How much monthly revenue and profit does McHamburger generate? Have you found out?"

Liu Bin paused eating: "Boss, I'm only in charge of frying chicken. The shop operates 24/7, and I work only one-third of the shifts—how could I know all that?"

Old Ghost: "Keep infiltrating. Don't expose yourself."

"Huh?"

"That's all. Your salary and dividends have already been deposited into your account."

"Wait, dividends too?"

"I told you—if you do well, you'll get dividends. This is just the beginning."

Liu Bin excitedly said: "Yes, sir! I'll complete the mission!"

Old Ghost calmly descended the building, confirmed no one was following, then hurried away.

But just as he was about to enter the Holiland restaurant, he suddenly stopped, turned away calmly, and hid nearby, watching the entrance.

After about twenty minutes, an older man, a few years older than him, emerged from the store—wearing glasses, leaning on a cane, supported by a woman in her thirties, followed by two sharp-eyed young men who clearly were military elites.

As for the old man's identity, Old Ghost recognized him—not just recognized, but knew him well; during both the Anti-Japanese War and the Civil War, they'd had frequent dealings.

Shen Zui—Old Ghost could recognize him even if he were reduced to ashes!

They had once been close friends on the surface; Shen Zui had always believed Old Ghost was his superior's younger brother and treated him like a little brother—until the nation was liberated, he never knew this "little brother" was a Communist underground agent.

Old Ghost wondered: wasn't he imprisoned in Gongdelin? When was he released?

But even if released, he was still a war criminal—how could he freely come to Hong Kong? Has mainland policy become this lenient?

Old Ghost didn't know: last year, Shen Zui had transformed into a defected general and now held a fairly high rank, so he was permitted to come to Hong Kong to meet his ex-wife and children in Taiwan.

Shen Zui's wife had believed he was executed after capture, so she remarried in Hong Kong.

Old Ghost didn't dare follow Shen Zui as he walked away, fearing he'd come for him; only after Shen Zui vanished did he enter the restaurant, asking Zhou Ma about the man.

"Did he ask about me?"

"Why would he ask about you? He just came to eat—he's from Hunan, loves spicy food."

Old Ghost: "Do you know why he came to Hong Kong?"

"Why would I ask that? When have I ever been so nosy?"

Old Ghost, embarrassed, returned home early—unexpectedly, one day brought him so many surprises.

"Lingling?"

Below, Old Ghost saw a beautiful girl, pale-skinned, tall, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, in her twenties, with a cold, aloof aura that kept strangers at bay.

Wei Lingling gave him a faint nod: "I'm returning to Taiwan for the Spring Festival. Auntie asked me to deliver you a letter."

She pulled a thick letter from her Chanel bag and handed it to Old Ghost—it seemed to contain more than just a letter.

Old Ghost took the letter and smiled: "Won't you come up for a while?"

"No, I have to catch a flight. I didn't plan to stay in Hong Kong," Wei Lingling replied coldly.

Old Ghost asked again: "When will you graduate? Do you plan to stay in the U. .?"

Wei Lingling snorted: "You don't even know what grade I'm in—does my living place matter to you?"

"I'm humbling myself to speak to you, and you won't even speak nicely? Get out!"

Old Ghost's sudden outburst startled Wei Lingling; she turned and walked away, tears welling in her eyes. Only when she was far enough that Old Ghost couldn't see her did she begin to sob quietly.

Suddenly, a delicate white hand offered a tissue: "Sister, are you okay?"

Wei Lingling glanced at Zhou Hui, who carried a backpack, took the tissue, and said, "I'm fine, thank you," then walked away.

Zhou Hui thought: such a beautiful sister crying so hard—could she have been hurt by a scumbag?

Old Ghost stared at the direction his daughter had left, still standing there long after she vanished, his heart filled with mixed emotions—he had only one daughter. Even if his marriage to her mother had been forced, watching her grow up, how could he not love her?

But he resented being bound to Taiwan by his brother's manipulation of family ties—his heart still belonged to the north.

"Uncle Ghost!" Zhou Hui called out cheerfully, "You got mail?"

"Ah, yes. Go play. I'm going upstairs to open the letter." Old Ghost rushed upstairs to open it.

Zhou Hui pouted—Aming hadn't replied to her in a long time. Last time he wrote, he said he was busy writing a screenplay for Li Hanxiang—he must be very busy.

And he's truly talented—living on the mainland, even big directors like Li Hanxiang ask him to write screenplays; doesn't that prove no Hong Kong writer can match him!

But from what she knew, Director Li Hanxiang often made romantic films; though she'd never watched one, she was familiar with titles like "Wind and Moon Tales," "Flower Stream Anecdotes," "Golden Phoenix Double Beauties," "Bridal Chamber Secret History," and "Sights, Sounds, Dogs, Horses."

"Could Ah Ming not be able to write romantic screenplays? Whatever—it doesn't matter. Even if it's a romantic film, I'll still buy a ticket to support it. I'll just bring a few sisters along to keep me brave."

And he said he might come to Hong Kong this year—it's already this year, so when will he arrive?

To give him a surprise, Ah Min had restrained herself from sending him any photos.

Ah Ming sneezed—he was reading a letter.

He held two letters: one from Lin Jie in Jinan, who had begun experiencing life—since there was little farm work left, she was learning to burn firewood, hand-sew shoes, and even said she'd make him a pair of a thousand-layer soles.

The second was from his cousin Long Xiaoyang in Chengdu.

In the letter, he told Wei Ming that more and more villagers around him had started raising quail; he and his uncle had come to Chengdu to study feed technology and machinery.

He also mentioned two new things he'd encountered in Chengdu.

"That cola you treated us to in Beijing—I saw it in Chengdu too, called Tianfu Cola. You don't even need to go to Friendship Store to buy it, though it's not cheap. I wonder how its taste differs from Beijing's cola."

It seemed this kid ultimately couldn't bring himself to buy a bottle of Tianfu Cola.

Wei Ming was surprised—Tianfu Cola already existed this early?

At this time, Coca-Cola hadn't been fully released in China; besides Friendship Stores, Overseas Chinese Stores, and foreign hotels, it had just started being sold inside the Forbidden City, but most people still couldn't get it.

Tianfu Cola seized this opportunity to rapidly dominate the market.

Long Xiaoyang also mentioned a film.

"Even though I didn't drink Tianfu Cola, my uncle and I watched a movie called 'The Mysterious Buddha,' starring Liu Xiaoqing in a martial arts film—it was amazing! But I think Brother's 'Heroes Emerge from Youth' is even better. Biaozi and Yanzi's fight scenes must be far more exciting than Liu Xiaoqing's. I just don't know when I'll get to see it—if possible, I'll come to Chengdu to watch it."

Wei Ming hadn't seen any announcements about "The Mysterious Buddha" screening in Beijing—the market was still dominated by "The Herdsman," its popularity undiminished.

It must have been an Emei Studio test screening—they were being heavily criticized, and reportedly even the film printing factories had stopped making copies.

They probably hoped to counter criticism with audience approval, shouting back: "The people love it—who are you to object?"

After reading the letters, Wei Ming began replying—to Zhu Lin, to Long Xiaoyang, and also selecting some replies for young readers of "Black Cat Detective."

Wei Ming had long finished writing the January issue's story for "Children's Literature," but when he gave the "Rabbit Village" story to Xiao Yan Auntie, she felt it perfectly matched the recent momentum of the new Marriage Law, so she moved it to the January publication.

Fortunately, the two stories had no sequential dependency—swapping their order didn't matter.

After the "Black Cat Detective" story was published, it delighted young readers, and many parents even slipped their own letters into their children's envelopes, discussing the severity of population issues with Wei Ming.

Of course, Wei Ming preferred reading letters from young readers in Sichuan and Chongqing.

They confidently declared: "Rabbits breed a lot—that's a good thing! We'll eat as many as they produce, absolutely no waste!"

As "Children's Literature" became a monthly, the number of letters from young readers kept growing. Today, Wei Ming specifically organized all the 1979 reader letters, packed them into a large bag, and delivered them to the Sihe Academy—just in time, as Old Wei had bought some antique cabinets to store them.

January 20, the fifteenth day of the twelfth lunar month, Great Cold.

"Mom, I'm back!" Wei Ming brought Xiao Hong and her dorm belongings home on his motorcycle—the first semester's final exams were over, and Wei Hong was officially on break.

Xu Shufen said: "Now that you're on break, you can help out. Two choices: help your father and me prepare meals, or take a temporary job at Xintiandi."

Wei Hong knew helping her parents meant no pay, while working at Xintiandi meant wages—but she firmly chose to help her parents.

Xu Shufen was pleased, but Wei Hong added: "But I can only help for a few days—I want to go with Brother when he heads to Shanghai, to broaden my horizons."

Wei Ming froze: "What are you coming for? I'm going to revise manuscripts—how am I supposed to take care of you?"

Wei Hong: "But I heard Shanghai used to be the nation's financial center—I want to see how people used to do finance."

"That's not a strong reason—Shanghai doesn't even have finance now."

Wei Hong pouted: "Brother, can't I just go for fun? You took Ah Long—you can't take me? Brother~"

Wei Ming shuddered: "Fine. But we can't stay in the Writers' Association's free guesthouse—I'll find a friend in Shanghai with space, and we'll stay together."

"Won't that be too much trouble?" Wei Hong said shyly.

Wei Ming spread his hands: "What else can we do?"

"You're the best, Brother!"

Taking Wei Hong along would also serve as cover—otherwise, living openly with Xue Jie carried risks. He'd have Wei Hong stay in the downstairs maid's room and forbid her from going upstairs.

Xue Jie had written that the bed in the master bedroom upstairs didn't creak.

Hong Kong's Kai Tak Airport.

Shen Zui and his younger daughter Shen Meijuan were returning to Beijing after spending over ten days in Hong Kong. Both he and his ex-wife Su Yanping had remarried; this meeting fulfilled their daughter's wish to meet her biological mother, and they'd even visited Hong Kong Ocean Park together.

The child had suffered—right after birth, Chiang Kai-shek lost the war, and she was left behind on the mainland. Luckily, someone adopted her, sparing her the fate of her older sister, who starved to death.

As for his relationship with his ex-wife, they now called each other brother and sister—what else could they do? Both were over sixty; this might be their final meeting.

He slept on the plane. Once landed, the two guards' duties ended. Shen Zui returned home with his daughter—he was completely free in mainland China.

"Dad, how was your rest?"

A day later, Shen Meijuan entered with a literary journal—today's newly released January issue of "Harvest."

Shen Meijuan worked at the Historical Materials Publishing House under the CPPCC and was a literary enthusiast who regularly read such journals.

"Hmm, feeling refreshed," Shen Zui inhaled deeply. "The air under socialism is better."

He was eccentric and witty—this was why Old Ghost had targeted him as a breakthrough point.

On leave today, Shen Meijuan read the novel right there in the living room, flipping directly to the chapter "The Right Path of Humanity Is the Vast River."

After nearly a year of silence, the new literary star Wei Ming had published another novel—this time a full-length one. Everyone was eager to read it; she had to read it immediately.

But the subject was about KMT-CPC relations. Thinking of her father's role during the KMT-CPC split, Shen Meijuan quietly slipped back to her room.

Yet by afternoon, she was again reading the novel in front of her father, hesitating as if wanting to speak.

"Xiao Juan, do you have something you want to tell me?"

"Dad, do you know someone named Jiang Limin?"

"Jiang Limin?" Shen Zui thought. "Alive or dead?"

…

(Today's minimum)

(End of chapter)