Chapter 309: Zhu Lin: I

Zhu Lin called Gong Rui, but two heads popped up—looking somewhat alike—so she invited Gong Ying along too.

Gong Ying assumed Zhu Lin was her sister's good friend from Beijing, surprised at the quality of her sister's friendships; indeed, a great beauty's friends were also great beauties.

"Sister Zhu Lin, how did you meet my sister?"

Zhu Lin: "We met on the same bed."

Gong Rui's face flushed crimson—what an unfiltered Beijing hooligan, and a medical worker too.

The shy little Xue hurried to clarify: "Earlier, when I was in Beijing, I stayed temporarily at Sister Zhu Lin's place, so we gradually got to know each other—we first met at the Beijing Film Studio; she also acted in their films."

"Is this the movie today?" Gong Ying asked again.

Zhu Lin smiled: "No, the Beijing Film Studio made 'A Story of Loss,' which was finished long ago—it'll be screened for the centenary of Lu Xun's birth. This one is from the Shanghai Film Studio: 'Happy Family,' a rural theme."

Though a rare and non-trendy rural theme, when China Film held a screening, the film received an outstanding response; provincial film companies rushed to order copies, making it the top-selling 35mm film of the first half of the year.

These film company screening officers had sharp eyes; the number of copies ordered already signaled 'Happy Family' as a blockbuster.

When Beijing officially premiered it, the film had already been screening for days in its "production base" Shanghai and its "filming location" Shandong, with wildly enthusiastic reactions—nearly every show sold out, and many newspapers mentioned it.

But hearing is believing, seeing is knowing; after Zhu Lin and the two entered the cinema, audiences who had just finished watching 'Happy Family' were chatting enthusiastically, praising it as an excellent film.

Suddenly someone shouted, "Shuilian!"—and all eyes turned to Zhu Lin, filled with curiosity and goodwill.

Shuilian was her character in 'Happy Family'; she froze for a moment, then Gong Rui nudged her: "They're calling you."

Gong Rui had been through this herself—during 'Good Things Take Time,' audiences called her Liu Fang; by 'The Herdsman,' more and more people began calling her 'Gong Rui.'

The film's female lead chatted briefly with her fans, and when they learned the actress playing Shuilian was a local from Beijing, the elderly Beijing residents were delighted, insisting her portrayal of the virtuous second daughter-in-law was authentically local!

Their show was about to start; after waving goodbye to the fans, Zhu Lin happily entered the theater with the Gong sisters.

Only then did other audience members realize: Had they just seen Gong Rui?

The film opened with the heroine Shuilian marrying Renwu, making her the second daughter-in-law of the Chen family, with an elder sister-in-law, a younger sister-in-law, a grandfather, and a mother-in-law.

The film's main conflicts and joys revolved around relationships between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, sister-in-law and sister-in-law, and sisters-in-law.

This was Lao Mao's second marriage on screen—he was experienced.

His first marriage with Gong Rui had been simple and hasty; this one at least looked proper—with music, singing, and lively celebration.

Though a rural wedding wasn't grand, Zhu Lin thought if she and Xiao Wei could have a wedding like this, she'd be content.

Gong Rui, staring at the big screen, said: "Me too!"

Soon after the film began, laughter erupted in the theater—sometimes quiet chuckles, sometimes loud bursts.

The film wasn't a comedy, but it had many funny moments; the dialogue had been polished for years by the screenwriter and director—concise and delightful.

Mainland cinemas hadn't seen a film this laugh-out-loud funny yet still thought-provoking in a long time.

Since emerging from the model opera era, cinema had remained an extension of politics—either reflective or critical, its themes mostly tied to those years.

Such films had an audience, but weren't light; profound works rarely attracted the broadest viewership.

Though 'Happy Family' was set in the countryside, its essence was human relationships—mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, sister-in-law and sister-in-law, and sisters-in-law—relationships that existed in cities too, and caring for the elderly was an issue nearly everyone would eventually face.

The elder sister-in-law Qiang Ying stood in direct opposition to Shuilian in caring for the elderly; hiding dumplings from the grandfather and forcing him to eat cornmeal buns became a defining scene of the era.

Many viewers laughed with anger, but some lowered their heads in shame after watching.

Gong Ying whispered to the two sisters: "This scene was shot so well—laughing, then crying."

The film ended with Qiang Ying's dream, leading her to repent—a touch forced in its family-reunion ending, but since the title was 'Happy Family,' why burden the audience?

This film had grasped the essence of family-friendly cinema, though such films had always been a minority in Chinese-language cinema.

When the film ended, Zhu Lin immediately pulled the Gong sisters out of the cinema—she feared being surrounded.

Then Gong Ying parted ways with them; Eastern New World was hosting an employee dinner today, and she, though unofficial, had been invited.

"You took me to the movies; let me treat you to dinner," Gong Rui suggested.

Zhu Lin gladly accepted; she also wanted to ask Gong Rui about what female actors should watch out for after becoming famous.

She had a hunch that once 'Happy Family' rolled out nationwide, she'd likely become famous; she couldn't guarantee a Golden Rooster nomination next year, but at least a Hundred Flowers nomination was possible.

But what Gong Rui really wanted to tell Zhu Lin was about Wei Ming.

"Yesterday, A Long sent Xiao Ying a telegram saying Xiao Wei has gone to England, and A Long is also handling some work matters in Hong Kong."

"A Long? The painter A Long?"

"Yes, he's Xiao Ying's boyfriend," Gong Rui said.

Zhu Lin's mouth hung open in regret—too bad her own sister was already married, and Xiao Wei had no other single male friends around.

"So he's finally going to England," Zhu Lin sighed. "I hope he can resist the foreign sugar-coated bullets."

Gong Rui's expectations were lower: "Even if he eats the sugar coating and kicks the bullet back, that's fine."

In a London West End apartment, Wei Ming was peeling off Melinda's sugar coating, while the bullet itself had been devoured by Melinda's fiery red curls.

After a ten-hour flight, Wei Ming rested three hours at the hotel; as soon as night fell, he eagerly went to Melinda's address from their letters, giving her a big surprise.

Then came another three hours—the energy restored by three hours of rest was completely spent.

It was a evenly matched battle; both were thoroughly exhilarated.

Wei Ming sighed: "After flying ten hours, if this is all I accomplish, it's still worth it."

"Can your good sister in China compare to me?" Melinda challenged.

Wei Ming: "Two good sisters."

She knew only Zhu Lin, unaware of Gong Rui.

Melinda shifted slightly, eyes brimming with curiosity: "Leonardo, you've impressed me—tell me more."

Wei Ming was a man with shame; he had no intention of boasting his charm using two kind sisters—he knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help himself.

He declined the invitation to elaborate and asked instead: "When are you arranging my meeting with Weber?"

Melinda: "Thursday. There's a performance of 'Cats'—you can meet Mr. Weber and Sarah after the musical. Before that, you need to come with me to our company; the children's book department head wants to meet the mysterious Mr. Why from the East, and we also need to discuss the new royalty split."

Thanks to the success of 'The Game of the Brave' and 'The Lion King,' Wei Ming was now an internationally known children's book author and deserved the treatment of a renowned writer.

"Fine. I'll bring my lawyer. What do you think of 'Jurassic Park'?"

"The novel hasn't been translated into English yet—he wouldn't know a thing. I'm very optimistic, but it's a sci-fi adventure with too many technical terms; I've already found a suitable translator."

Wei Ming was glad Melinda didn't overreach—translating this novel without paleontology knowledge was indeed difficult.

"Also, I think we should focus this novel on America; the Americans, with no deep history, love these creatures from hundreds of millions of years ago—it perfectly matches the U. . book market's taste," Melinda analyzed.

After speaking, Melinda changed the subject: "Where did you find a freelance lawyer? Don't trust me?"

"How could I? My works are your works—but this lawyer is free, so why not use him?"

"What lawyer? Male or female? How old?"

"Female. Around your age. American-Chinese. Also very beautiful."

"Could she be the second good sister?"

"Not a good sister—a good aunt. My father's half-sister." Wei Ming stopped there, offering no further explanation.

London Goring Hotel.

When Wei Ming's aunt Wei Lingling had adjusted to the time difference and planned to take her nephew out to enjoy London's night scenery, she found no response from his room.

No need to ask—he'd gone to see his ex. Hmph, I shouldn't have come here!

So Wei Lingling ate a British meal she couldn't even enjoy, then returned to her room to sleep, wishing now that Lao Gui would open Haur Li to Britain—even McDonald's or Burger King would do.

The next day, Wei Lingling was woken by Wei Ming knocking on her door.

"Back already?" said a woman in pajamas, hair messy.

"You knew I went out?"

"Get to the point."

Wei Ming: "Melinda knows you're here—and it's your first time—so she suggested taking us around London today."

The meeting with Macmillan's executives was postponed.

Wei Lingling's dull eyes instantly lit up: "Where is she?"

"Waiting in the lobby."

"You two have breakfast first. I'll change clothes."

Gong Rui and Zhu Lin changing clothes meant just changing clothes; Zhou Hui's changing clothes included outfit coordination and makeup time; Wei Lingling's changing clothes started with a shower.

So Wei Ming and Melinda leisurely enjoyed a hotel breakfast.

The Goring Hotel was a historic, well-known London hotel offering French-style breakfast, so Wei Ming and Melinda ate happily.

When they returned to the lobby and had some tea, they finally waited for Wei Lingling—though not dressed to the nines, she was exquisitely elegant, her clothing style perfectly suited London.

Her two large suitcases weren't for show.

Seeing Wei Lingling, Melinda—who deeply understood Eastern aesthetics—was relieved: Thank goodness they were aunt and nephew; otherwise, last night's partner definitely wouldn't have been me.

Wei Lingling also admired Melinda, especially her naturally curly fiery red hair; though British people saw such hair as a sign of northern barbarism, Wei Lingling loved it—Chinese people intrinsically loved bright red.

She even suspected her nephew's first love was Melinda because she symbolized Chinese festivity.

Melinda first expressed regret: "If you'd arrived a few days earlier, I could've taken you to Cannes—the film festival just ended."

Wei Lingling: "Isn't Cannes in France?"

Melinda: "Would the French dare object if the British went to French territory?"

The aunt and nephew exchanged glances—here it comes! The classic "la France" routine again!

That was just a joke; the real point was how easy it was to travel between Britain and France—like traveling between provinces in China. The EU hadn't formed yet, but its predecessor, the EEC, had been established since Britain joined in 1973.

Film was a topic everyone was interested in—more worth discussing than London's weather.

Melinda drove them straight to the British Museum, chatting along the way about Isabelle Adjani's award-winning film 'Possession,' which had just premiered in Britain.

"It's quite a unique film—if you have time, you should watch it."

Wei Lingling: "I like French films. The most memorable recent one was 'The First Kiss.'"

Melinda: "The lead is Sophie Marceau."

"Yes, yes, yes."

Listening to them discuss two generations of France's national treasure actresses, Wei Ming couldn't interject or keep up.

But when they reached the British Museum and saw those Chinese artifacts, Wei Ming entered his domain.

Although he didn't collect antiques himself, his family's sihe courtyard was packed with old objects, and because he wrote novels and screenplays, he had broad historical knowledge—far surpassing the two young women.

Gazing at the numerous Dunhuang murals and sutras, only a select few displayed, Wei Ming sighed: "Taken by Stein during the late Qing."

Chinese historians must come to London to study Dunhuang culture.

Seeing the Shang Dynasty bronze double-goat zun, Wei Ming sighed: "Taken from Yuanmingyuan by the Anglo-French Allied Army."

And it's one with inscriptions—whether a bronze vessel has characters or not makes a world of difference in value.

Wei Ming walked over to the Tang dynasty copy of the "Admonitions of the Instructress to the Court Ladies," and as someone who loved painting, he couldn't help but examine it closely, murmuring: "Still from Yuanmingyuan."

They could also see jade cong from the Liangzhu culture, the Xuande Jingtai blue-and-white dragon-patterned vase, and bronze sword hilts cast during the Eastern Zhou.

Seeing these ancestral relics displayed here, Wei Ming felt mostly regret, but Wei Lingling thought it fine—better for the whole world to admire them here.

"If these relics had gone to Taiwan with Chiang Kai-shek, they might've become private collections of the elite, never shown to the public. If they'd stayed on the mainland, they might've vanished by now. And look—how well they're preserved here."

Wei Ming had no reply. If she were just being unreasonable, it'd be easier. But the fact she had a point made it even more painful.

Afterwards, Melinda guided Wei Ming and Wei Lingling through the Egypt Gallery, and Wei Ming instantly felt better.

We only lost our antiques. The Egyptians lost their ancestors—apparently, some were even ground into medicine. These are just the leftovers.

Of course, the Rosetta Stone and the Parthenon sculptures were inevitably included.

The British Museum's most precious artifacts were almost all looted or purchased from China, Egypt, and Greece.

Chinese visitors to London find it hard to resist coming here to see their ancestors' treasures—your things stolen, then you pay to see them. It's infuriating.

So Wei Ming wanted to make money from the British Museum too, to balance his psyche. Obviously, outright theft was out of the question.

One day wasn't enough to see the British Museum. Since they wouldn't stay long, they only skimmed the highlights, then took the subway to see Big Ben and the Tower of London—this day was over.

That night, Melinda moved into Wei Ming's hotel room, next to Wei Lingling's. She listened for a long time but heard nothing.

She thought these two were reserved—until late at night, when Wei Ming and Melinda, recovered from shopping, started stirring. Wei Lingling heard faint creaking, and her sleep quality plummeted.

The next day, the three arrived at the London headquarters of Macmillan Publishers.

This family-run enterprise, led by a former British Prime Minister as president, was a global publishing giant.

Just consider this: the academic world's famed journal "Nature" was published by Macmillan.

Walking with Melinda past the covers and titles, Wei Ming and Wei Lingling truly felt the strength and depth of this veteran international publisher.

"Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," "The Little Prince," "The Jungle Book," "Lost Horizon," and more.

Children's books were Macmillan's flagship category, with multiple titles selling in the millions and long-term partnerships with numerous children's authors.

Although Wei Ming's "The Lion King" hadn't yet launched global marketing, its UK sales had already surpassed 100, 00 copies and was considered a work with million-copy potential.

Of course, they meant the Macmillan-published "The Lion King" picture book—any future French or German editions would be developed from this version.

Today's new contract and revised royalty split covered not only "Jurassic Park," but also "The Rubik's Cube? You Can Play It With Your Hands," already translated and illustrated.

And because of the global Rubik's Cube craze, and since the book's preliminary work was complete, today's focus was really on this title.

The children's book director sincerely invited Wei Ming to the Frankfurt Book Fair this October, where both "The Lion King" and "The Rubik's Cube" would be Macmillan's featured titles.

Going abroad again? Wei Ming verbally agreed and asked Melinda to send him an invitation—given time, he'd go. He wanted to try German sausages and beer too.

Finally, they discussed the new book's royalty split—the most direct point: Wei Ming's royalty rate increased by five percentage points…

(End of Chapter)