Chapter 282: The Magical Journey of the Original Manuscript of *The True Path of Humanity*

After Xia Yan obtained Wei Ming's permission through Wei Tao, the second volume of *The True Path of Humanity Is Suffering* was quickly borrowed by a senior figure he knew well.

He also told Old Xia to save the final third volume for him.

It was 1981, and many of the old leaders were still alive.

Among them, a large number came from the Huangpu faction—three of the four surviving senior leaders had ties to Huangpu.

Although Wei Ming did not focus on portraying them, he mentioned them all; his principle was that those with substantial roles were mostly deceased, and he could not fabricate or distort details, since they all had descendants.

Later, when Old Xia asked for the second volume back after lending the third to this military elder, the man said he had already lent it to another comrade.

"Oh, it's just too good—everyone wants to read it," the elder said. "The second volume mainly covers the War of Resistance, the most thrilling section."

Wei Ming absorbed the essence of many later anti-Japanese film and TV masterpieces: Jiang Limin displayed brilliant military prowess and made outstanding contributions to underground warfare, with tense and thrilling scenes that stirred intense passion.

Even if they had no scenes in the plot, the veteran officers found it fascinating to see their former comrades and rivals portrayed.

Xia Yan sighed helplessly: "Then at least remember to get it back for me—it's not mine."

"Don't worry, I've got it under control."

And so Wei Ming's subsequent 400, 00-word manuscript began its strange journey, sometimes inside the sea, sometimes outside it.

But no one ever thought to photocopy it—these big figures could easily get their hands on a photocopier.

They simply felt the manuscript hadn't been officially published yet; if they photocopied it and it leaked, it would be disrespectful to the creator, and even young people shouldn't be treated lightly.

But as the influence of this issue of *Shouhuo* grew and the first volume of *The True Path of Humanity Is Suffering* spread wider, more people wanted to read it; originally, the second and third volumes circulated separately, but eventually they were passed around chapter by chapter, like how students in later years would tear apart pirated web novels to share among themselves.

After all, they were all retired or second-line elders with plenty of free time, and rarely did they encounter a novel so closely tied to their own lives, so well-written, neither pretentious nor obscure, and long enough to satisfy.

They were so delighted they wanted to throw monthly votes or leave chapter comments.

Wei Ming had temporarily forgotten he even had a manuscript; besides writing screenplays and playing with cats and dogs, he returned to Peking University and resumed work, but his job didn't interfere with his screenplay writing.

Plus, the rare books library was right next door, making it convenient for him to consult late Qing materials to refine his screenplays.

Yet during work hours, colleagues from the library—or even other departments—often came over to chat with him, discussing history and figures from the 1920s to the 1940s, treating Wei Ming as an expert on the subject.

Wei Ming truly deserved the title—he had read extensively in his past life, accumulating decades of knowledge.

Although their chatter somewhat delayed his writing, Wei Ming didn't mind; the project was nearly complete, and Director Li Hanxiang had no time to shoot in the near future—he was still working for Shaw Brothers.

One day, after chatting with colleagues and having dinner outside with Brother Feng, he returned home and received a call from the Beiyingchang guesthouse.

"I've arrived in Beijing," came Gong Ying's voice.

"That's wonderful!" Wei Ming exclaimed, "You don't know how much I missed you—I couldn't sleep."

How could he not sleep holding Zhu Lin? Gong Ying didn't believe his nonsense.

She had received Zhu Lin's letter and knew Melinda had written to Wei Ming again, sending extremely revealing photos—nearly naked—and in her reply, Gong Ying joined Zhu Lin in teasing Melinda, as if united in shared outrage.

But Gong Ying didn't know Zhu Lin had later bought Western-style sexy underwear, and the amount of activity they'd had those days was easy to imagine.

Yet strangely, hearing Wei Ming say this, she sensed his sincerity and didn't feel he had been tainted.

She sniffed lightly: "Don't flatter yourself. I'm telling you—Ying is here too. I can stay at the Beiyingchang guesthouse, but I don't know how you plan to accommodate her."

Wei Ming told her: "Leave it to Xiao Mei—I've already had him rent a place. But Ying's workplace isn't Dongfang Xintiandi; it's the clothing factory where Biao Ma works, designing clothes. Does A Long know Ying is here?"

"Ying left her luggage with me and has already gone to the Film Academy to find A Long," Gong Ying smiled.

"Wow, Ying is so proactive. So, won't you come find me too?" Wei Ming teased.

"Sure. Where to?"

"Either the Overseas Chinese Apartments or the Sihe Academy—right now I'm alone."

Gong Ying: "Let's go to the Sihe Academy tomorrow. The cat and dog are still there, right?"

"Yes, but why not today?"

Gong Ying sighed: "Today Ying and I are staying at the guesthouse—I can't leave her alone."

Wei Ming sighed: A Long, can't you just try harder and stop dragging me down?

After hanging up with Gong Ying, Wei Ming realized he hadn't congratulated her yet.

Soon after, Gong Ying met with Director Wang Haowei and others, and Director Wang added his own "Congratulations."

Congratulations on her topping the *China Youth Daily*'s list of "Ten Most Beloved Youth Screen Images."

The *China Youth Daily* announced the results that very day Gong Ying arrived in Beijing, as if to welcome her.

The voting period coincided with the peak popularity of *The Herdsman*, when audience enthusiasm was still fresh.

Although the film hadn't yet reached rural audiences, Wei Fenfang's gentle, virtuous, and morally upright character, despite limited screen time, earned her the praise "If you marry, marry Wei Fenfang," making Gong Ying famous nationwide in cities big and small.

Although its screenings and viewership were fewer than *Love on Lushan Mountain*, Gong Ying had a slight edge over Zhang Yu in looks and aura, narrowly surpassing her; Zhang Yu ranked second.

Other actresses like Chen Chong, Li Xiuming, and Liu Xiaoqing also made the list.

A prestigious newspaper's poll, featuring the era's most popular actors, though the top spot stirred some controversy for Gong Ying, clearly announced her entry into the ranks of today's top female actresses—now she must consolidate her position.

Gong Ying humbly downplayed it, praising Director Xie and Wei Ming's writing.

Wang Haowei nodded: That's the right way for a southern girl to respond. If Liu Xiaoqing had won first place, she'd have said: "Of course I deserved first."

Then Director Wang Haowei added: "Shooting is tentatively scheduled for late March; we still have plenty of time to memorize the script and experience life."

At this point, Gong Ying raised a question: "I'd like to visit the real-life prototype of the character."

Wang Haowei asked: "Do you know where she lives?"

Gong Ying smiled: "Just ask Teacher Wei—he'll know."

How insane was the Mad Mother? What form did her madness take?

After the New Year, Gong Ying had visited the Shanghai Mental Hospital, but the patients there were wildly varied, and she couldn't quite gauge the right tone.

Although Wei Ming's script described her in detail, she still wanted to see the real-life prototype.

Wang Haowei agreed: "Then let me go with you personally. Also, the young actress should come too. I'll call Wei Ming right now to discuss."

But the call didn't go through—Wei Ming wasn't home.

Last time Zhu Lin had complained the Sihe Academy was cold, and recently no stove had been lit, so Wei Ming had gone ahead to start a fire—he was staying there tonight, and tomorrow it should be warmer.

Opening the Sihe Academy gate, Wei Ming introduced Gong Ying to the ginkgo tree; the police chief she had already met.

The cat and dog tilted their heads, watching Wei Ming and Gong Ying enter, wondering: Was this the same one?

Wei Ming first showed Gong Ying Old Wei's collection—the porcelain pieces with exquisite paintings left her awestruck.

Wei Ming offered generously: "If you like anything, I'll give it to you."

Gong Ying shook her head: "If I like it, I can always come see it—no need to own it."

"Of course you can come anytime," Wei Ming said. "This place was bought for you to live in, but now my parents run a catering business and have basically taken it over. Still, I truly don't want you staying at the guesthouse."

Gong Ying: "It's fine—I won't be staying long anyway."

"Huh?"

Gong Ying: "I want to see the lotuses."

"What? You're going to Zigong?!"

Gong Ying nodded seriously: "Yes. The director will come with me, and he wants to bring Xi Zi too."

Wei Ming gently squeezed Xue Jie's shoulder—he was reluctant to let her go so far.

But Xue Jie wasn't asking—she had already decided.

"Then good—I'll send you some money. I earned royalties from the lotus story, so I should contribute. Also, once you confirm the date, I'll write to my cousin—he'll take you there; he knows the way."

"Thank you for supporting my career," Gong Ying threw herself into Wei Ming's arms—those ninety-nine eighty-one chest muscles felt wonderful.

Wei Ming gently stroked her hair: "That's unnecessary. You and I don't need to say that. Besides, this is my screenplay too—I want the film to succeed."

Gong Ying solemnly said: "I won't let your story down!"

"We can talk about that later. First, let me see how your yoga is coming along."

Gong Ying's face flushed immediately: "How can I practice at home?"

She couldn't practice in front of Gong Ying.

"So we really need our own space," Wei Ming thought, wishing he could move Gong Ying into Zhu Lin's apartment.

But he realized that would be too inappropriate, so he dropped the idea—better to find another apartment later.

After admiring Old Wei's collection, they entered the bedroom, where the red bed and red quilts had been neatly arranged, showing no trace of their previous encounter.

But another battle was about to begin!

Since they wanted to see where Gong Ying stayed, Gong Ying couldn't spend the night with Wei Ming—they could only indulge in daylight passion, accompanied by cat meows and dog barks.

Afterwards, Wei Ming and Gong Ying visited Gong Ying, who rented a courtyard house right next door to Biao Ma's place, convenient for Biao Ma to look after her, and the neighbors were all familiar—no lowlifes, at least.

Innovative clothing design was crucial for the shop, and Gong Ying truly had talent—even when copying Hong Kong fashion magazines, she copied them better than the originals, and they regarded her as the secret weapon ensuring Dongfang Xintiandi's vitality.

That night, Gong Ying stayed with her sister, so Wei Ming had A Long sleep over at the Sihe Academy; they could discuss progress on *The Bright Moon of Qin*.

When school officially resumed and his team returned, they could begin drawing properly, assigning roles and testing a comic production line.

Wei Ming had one requirement: "When we go to Hong Kong, we must have at least ten chapters ready."

"When can we go to Hong Kong?"

Wei Ming: "Uncertain."

The next day, Wei Ming and A Long were woken by the ginkgo's cries—someone was at the door.

A Long opened it and exclaimed: "Uncle, what are you doing here?"

Wei Ming stepped out and saw his father—he let out a deep breath.

Just barely—he and Xue Jie had almost been caught in bed by Old Wei.

Old Wei laughed: "A Long, we got back to Beijing yesterday, but the Overseas Chinese Apartments were empty, so I guessed Xiao Ming was here—and didn't expect you too. Come have dinner at home later."

"Uncle, I'd love to, but I've got plans with my girlfriend today—another time."

"What? You've got a girlfriend too! Where's she from? What does her family do?" Old Wei was deeply interested.

Look at his son's friends—all young, all found partners, but this troublesome son of his insists on finding two.

It's as if we have none at all.

Long said sweetly: "She's a girl from Mo Du, also studying painting. She…"

Here he glanced at Wei Ming, then added: "Her older sister is the actress Gong Yu."

"Ah, Gong Yu!" Old Wei exclaimed in surprise, nearly blurting out, "So you two are connected then!"

He held it back just in time; Long took the opportunity to take his leave, while Wei Ming returned to school to resume work, agreeing to have dinner together that evening.

The semester resumes on the sixteenth of the first lunar month; today is the thirteenth, and Peking University already has students returning in staggered waves, including international students.

"Leonardo!" Li Aiguo, emerging from Shao Yuan, spotted Wei Ming and called out while rushing over.

Wei Ming was also delighted to see him; though they hadn't communicated since their last meeting, the expression on Li's face told him the deal was done.

"Li Aiguo, you look in great spirits."

"Of course—if this song sells well, I could make at least ten thousand dollars!" For a student, that's a solid return.

If he could make ten thousand, Wei Ming knew roughly how much he himself would earn—would it be a hundred thousand dollars?

But that prerequisite was the song selling extremely well.

"Can you tell me the details?"

Li Aiguo didn't mention the initial $5, 00 buyout contract; he went straight to the second one.

The kind of deal a musician with real recognition gets.

"There's no upfront payment now, but we receive mechanical reproduction royalties, public performance royalties, synchronization licensing fees—all the benefits any well-known songwriter can expect."

Then Li Aiguo explained each term in detail.

Mechanical reproduction royalties are fixed payments to songwriters whenever their songs are physically pressed onto records—currently mainly vinyl and cassette tapes, with CDs coming later.

The standard rate is nine cents per song; if one million copies are produced, that's ninety thousand dollars.

Of course, selling a million copies is a huge achievement—not easily attained.

But Li Aiguo's father secured twelve cents per song for Wei Ming, which is the rate for a songwriter with established recognition.

Public performance royalties are paid whenever a song is broadcast on radio, TV, or played in public venues; each payment is small, but they add up—and sometimes become very substantial.

In the future, Sister Niu will retire on her song "All I Want for Christmas Is You," because every Christmas, every store plays it—and she earns money every time, accumulating until she makes sixty million dollars.

Synchronization licensing fees are paid when a song is used in films, TV dramas, or commercials; there's no fixed rate—it depends on negotiations between the music company and the film studio, ranging from a few thousand to tens of thousands of dollars, or even more.

Although Li Aiguo didn't bring back any cash, he brought back two contracts; the Jiafang, MCA, had already signed—once he signed, they'd take effect.

The contracts even included Li Aiguo's ten percent share, which would be deducted directly and sent to Wei Ming.

But the contracts were in English, so Wei Ming said he'd take them home to study; Li Aiguo had no objection—he thought that was only right.

So Wei Ming took the contracts to the Class of '77 Law Department.

The Class of '77 Law Department at Peking University produced many talents—legal giants like Tao Jingzhou and He Qinhua were from this cohort, and of course, Qiang Ge.

Wei Ming didn't know them well, but they all knew him, even held him in some admiration; when he said he was signing a contract with a major American company, not just the students but even their professors came over to help review it.

Later, realizing there were too many technical terms, they brought in classmates from the Foreign Languages Department.

As they read through, they marveled at how incredibly meticulous American corporate contracts were—so many details!

But surprisingly, there were no traps.

Wei Ming told them not to idealize foreigners: "I hired an American lawyer at great cost."

His ten percent share was essentially protection money paid to Li Aiguo's father.

If MCA capitalized on John Lennon's death with a successful marketing campaign, the song's earnings would far exceed one hundred thousand dollars; and though Lennon died only once, as a legendary musician, each anniversary of his death would likely spark a wave of tributes, keeping the song valuable year after year.

After confirming the contracts were clean, Wei Ming, accompanied by two classmates from the Class of '77 Law Department and Spanish Department, went to Shao Yuan to find Li Aiguo; in the presence of Li Aiguo and Li Kui, they signed the contracts.

Only after signing did Wei Ming realize another critical question.

"Aiguo, do you know who MCA plans to have sing this song?"

Li Aiguo looked slightly embarrassed: "It's a young British female singer—only twenty-one, but don't underestimate her; her group's debut album sold five hundred thousand copies in the UK."

Finally, Li Aiguo revealed her name.

"Her name is Sarah Brightman."

Wei Ming sucked in a breath—Li Kui! It was this voice of heaven! Imagining her singing "Moonlight Shadow," Wei Ming felt this was going to be brilliant.

Wei Ming first learned of Sarah Brightman through her rendition of "Scarborough Fair"—it was like a sonic massage, pure auditory bliss.

Later he heard her "Time to Say Goodbye" and the Barcelona Olympics theme song, "Amigos Para Siempre."

Of course, most Chinese people wouldn't recognize her until 2008, when she sang "You and Me" with Liu Huan.

Leaving aside the song's quality, to perform the Olympic opening ceremony theme with Liu Huan—and to be the only person ever to have sung two Olympic theme songs—her vocal ability was unquestionable.

One word: phenomenal!

Wei Ming had only wanted to ride a wave of hype, make a little money, and test the waters of the Western music scene—but he'd accidentally landed on Sarah Brightman. His confidence in the song's earning potential soared.

That evening, Wei Ming returned home and had dinner with his parents, his grandmother, and Xiao Hong; Mei Wenhua also came along with Yunyun—it was quite a crowd.

Xiao Mei remarked: "Only your living room is big enough for this many people—mine would be too cramped."

He sat on the sofa with Old Wei watching "Eighteen Years in the Enemy Camp." Old Wei had finally gotten hooked on TV—this was what life was meant to be!

(End of Chapter)