Chapter 314: One Man Equals Hong Kong

Eighteen-year-old Li Lianjie wore a backpack and a sun hat; because he was short, he looked like an elementary school student.

Among this group, the person he knew best was his senior brother Zhao Debiao, but his gaze lingered only a moment on Biaozi before shifting to Li Zhi, then awkwardly turning to Wei Ming.

Wei Ming noticed all these details; in his view, his aunt's face was far prettier than Xiao Li's, and her aura utterly outshone hers—perhaps Ah Jie simply preferred Xiao Li's type, and even meeting her years early, his taste remained unchanged.

But Ah Jie was still a shy, inexperienced boy; he first greeted Senior Biao and Teacher Wei, then patted Wu Jing's head as he chatted about Teacher Wei's achievements in Hong Kong.

"Oh, you've heard of my legends in Hong Kong?"

"Yes, on the way to the airport I bought a Ming Pao—it covered your life story, including how one song shocked the international music scene."

Of course, what Li Lianjie admired most was the story of one song earning a million Hong Kong dollars—an unimaginable sum to athletes like him; he'd won countless championships and performed abroad multiple times, yet never even became a ten-thousand-yuan household.

Having traveled abroad often, he understood the importance of money well—he'd just returned from a performance tour in Singapore, stopped over in Hong Kong when director Zhang Xinyan called him back to reshoot a scene, so he got separated and had to shave off his newly grown hair again.

Biaozi hurriedly said: "Where's the newspaper? Let me see."

The good-looking Li Lianjie pulled the newspaper from his bag and added: "Senior brother, you're also famous in Hong Kong—I may have arrived late, but I've heard about your tug-of-war with an elephant, and I've even seen your commercial."

At this, Biaozi immediately pulled Li Lianjie aside, casting a shadow over him: "What commercial?"

He'd shot plenty of commercials lately.

"The one with the leather jacket," Li Lianjie said innocently.

Biaozi sighed in relief—he'd feared Ah Jie had seen his underwear ad. Thank goodness.

At this point, the Ming Pao had passed from Biaozi's hands to Wei Ming's, but was quickly snatched away by Wei Lingling, who read it side by side with Li Zhi.

Ah Jie seized the chance to ask: "Who are these two?"

Wei Ming: "This is Wei Lingling, Director Wei; this is her assistant, Miss Li Zhi."

Director Wei! So young and already a female boss—Ah Jie's thoughts shifted slightly, then he realized: she's also surnamed Wei?

But Wei Ming didn't elaborate further; he walked over to Li Zhi and asked: "What did Ming Pao say about me?"

"Oh, Ming Pao first mentioned the writer Wei Ming's literary achievements on the mainland, calling him the first person since Weng Weng, then highlighted his serialized novel 'The Righteous Path of Humanity Is Vast Change,' followed by introducing several works by Wei Shénme, calling him the 'Fairy Tale King of the Mainland,' with influence reaching Europe and America…"

Li Zhi spoke with admiration: "But the article also said Wei Shénme is far less flamboyant than Wei Ming; aside from Elton John's remark, there's no other evidence proving Wei Ming is Wei Shénme."

Wei Ming praised: "Precise." Other media blindly followed TVB, outright declaring Wei Ming was Wei Shénme—but Ming Pao still considered it debatable.

Li Zhi added: "The article concluded by noting that 'The Youthful Hero Emerges from Ancient Times,' which broke the Hong Kong box office record of ten million, was based on a novel by Wei Kuangren and scripted by Wei Ming—perhaps these two are the same person."

Wei Ming paused—he was impressed. The writer had some insight.

He asked: "Who wrote this?"

Li Zhi: "Oh, it's Yi Shu."

Wei Ming smiled. This trip to Hong Kong truly connected him with the Ni family—Yi Shu had already published 'Hibiscus Town' and 'The Story of a Rose,' establishing her position in Hong Kong's literary scene.

Li Lianjie quickly asked: "So, is what the paper says true?"

Biaozi laughed heartily: "Wei Shénme, Wei Kuangren—they're all Brother Ming. They can't even imagine how awesome Brother Ming is."

The outside world didn't yet know Brother Ming ran a comic company, and Biaozi himself didn't even know Wei Ming had started a company overseas.

Ah Jie stood with his mouth slightly open—pathetic in Li Zhi's eyes.

Meanwhile, Wei Ming was thinking: the news that he was Wei Shénme was bound to leak—once Hong Kong knew, the mainland wouldn't be far behind. It was time to get Zhu Wei the reporter moving.

"Come on, Ah Ming, let's go to the VIP lounge," his aunt said, checking the time.

Wei Ming replied: "Aunt, no need to upgrade me this time—I'll stay with my brothers."

Li Lianjie: Aunt? He'd thought they were siblings—turns out they were aunt and nephew!

Wei Lingling: "Then Li Zhi, come with me—I'll upgrade your cabin."

"Oh, thank you, Director Wei," Li Zhi had never flown first class—she waved at Wei Ming brightly, "Goodbye, Master Ming."

Ah Jie stared, transfixed, and waved too—but Li Zhi's eyes held only Master Ming.

In the end, four men and one child boarded economy class.

In first class, Li Zhi whispered to Wei Lingling: "Director Wei, did you see the old man in front of us?"

"I saw him. What about it?"

Li Zhi: "That's Jin Yong!"

In July 1981, Jin Yong had been invited to Beijing by the Chief Architect for a chat, accompanied by his third wife and his second wife's young daughter.

As the plane took off, Jin Yong gazed out at the clouds, lost in thought—perhaps remembering the clouds of his hometown.

On the plane, through sweet talk, Li Lianjie swapped seats to sit beside Wei Ming and his group—he wanted to find out about Miss Li Zhi.

Like whether she was single, whether she was from Hong Kong, how old she was, and so on.

But Wei Ming gave him no chance—he pulled Li Lianjie aside and asked about 'Shaolin Temple,' teasing him: "Get ready for massive fame—your Biao brother played a villain and still mesmerized Hong Kong; you're the hero, prettier than him, and your fight scenes must be stunning."

Li Lianjie kept protesting modestly: "I'm nowhere near my senior brother—I'm just flashy technique; he's the real strength."

Yet inwardly, he hoped 'Shaolin Temple' would be as successful as 'The Youthful Hero Emerges from Ancient Times'—if a Hong Kong businessman wanted him for a commercial, maybe he could finally become a ten-thousand-yuan household!

While Wei Ming and the others chatted on the plane, Ah Min was preparing to go to Dai Sicong's house for a lesson—her mother had finally agreed to let her study vocal music for the theme song of Haoli Lai.

But just as Ah Min was about to leave, the phone rang—it was Ah Lun Tan Yonglin, whom she hadn't heard from in ages.

"Ah Lun, what's up?"

Tan Yonglin excitedly said: "Ah Min, isn't Ah Ming Wei Ming? The one who wrote 'Moonlight Shadow'?"

Zhou Hui min exclaimed: "How do you know that?"

"Yay! I guessed right!" Tan Yonglin beamed. "Because Ah Ming wrote Mandarin songs—I first thought he was a Taiwanese musician, but recently Wei Ming's been hot, and his name has 'Ming' in it, so I couldn't help connecting the dots."

"You're pretty smart," Ah Min regretted her hasty reply.

Tan Yonglin smiled: "Ah Min, as Ah Ming's agent in Hong Kong, you must've met him already."

"Of course," Ah Min said, slightly proud.

"Can you help me arrange a meeting? I want to thank Ah Ming personally," Tan Yonglin added—though mostly he wanted to commission a song; Wei Ming's two versions of 'Water Flower' had opened new territory for him in the music industry.

"Unlucky—he's already returned to the mainland. Left today."

"Oh, so unlucky."

"He was supposed to leave long ago—he was invited to Britain, then came back to Beijing for a brief stopover in Hong Kong, so he stayed an extra day," Ah Min explained in detail to prove she wasn't lying.

Hearing Wei Ming had been invited to Britain, Tan Yonglin thrilled—could this musical genius be writing English songs again?

If he could write a song like 'Moonlight Shadow' for him, wouldn't that mean he might finally reach a million sales?

"Ah Min, even though Ah Ming's returned to the mainland, my admiration for him hasn't changed—please convey my respect. Next time he comes to Hong Kong, tell me—I'll treat."

"Alright, alright," Ah Min brushed him off—but she'd still tell Ah Ming. Hmm, she'd write him a letter. They'd only been apart a day and she already missed him.

…

A month later, Wei Ming returned to his faithful Beijing. After riding economy class with his poor brothers, he couldn't accompany them further—he had to take his aunt to the Beijing Hotel, so he parted ways with Biaozi, Ah Long, and the others.

Wei Lingling, as a foreign guest, faced more complicated customs procedures, so Wei Ming waited outside for her. When he saw his aunt, he also spotted Jin Yong behind her.

But everyone was in a hurry to get in the car; no introductions were made. This was the Beijing Hotel's vehicle for its guests. On the way, Li Zhi recounted how she'd recognized Jin Yong and wondered why he was in Beijing.

Wei Lingling observed the streets of Beijing—much as she remembered: poor, backward, few cars, mostly bicycles.

Yet the people's spirits weren't downtrodden—unlike her expectation. She'd imagined such poverty, so far behind the world, would breed deep anxiety.

Only when they reached Wangfujing Street did things improve slightly—modern commercial scenes appeared. The driver was clever—he deliberately took the most modern, bustling route to show the foreign guest before dropping them at the hotel.

At check-in, they met again—Jin Yong's family was staying there too. Since Wei Ming didn't know his family well, he couldn't tell which was his wife and which was his daughter—they were nearly the same age.

This time, Jin Yong initiated the greeting. Since 'The Youthful Hero Emerges from Ancient Times,' he'd been watching this name; as owner of Ming Pao, Wei Ming had been a hot topic, frequently appearing on the front page—he naturally recognized him.

"Are you Mr. Wei Ming?" Jin Yong's Mandarin was quite standard.

"Yes. Hello, Master Cha."

"You recognize me?"

In a past life, I tried to buy the rights to adapt your works into web films—unfortunately, I failed.

"Of course. When I first started as a gatekeeper at Peking University, I bonded with my coworkers by telling stories from 'The Legend of the Condor Heroes.'" Wei Ming smiled.

At the time, there were no legitimate Jin Yong martial arts novels on the mainland—he wouldn't get them until after this trip—so Wei Ming had only read pirated or Hong Kong editions.

"Do you stay here too?" Jin Yong asked.

"No, I have a home in Beijing—I'm here just to drop off friends."

Jin Yong glanced at the two women—couldn't tell which was friend, which was family.

But he was mainly curious about the relationship between Wei Ming and Wei Shénme—since he'd met the real person, he could finally settle this mystery.

"Wei Shénme is me. Wei Kuangren is me too—pseudonyms I use for works published overseas." Wei Ming was utterly candid.

Jin Yong was astonished: "So Wei Kuangren really is you!"

"So you write martial arts novels, serious literature, fairy tales, and compose lyrics and music?" Jin Yong mused. "I've also heard you're a gourmet who's written many essays about food?"

Wei Ming nodded: "I wouldn't call myself a gourmet, but I do have a greedy palate—I sampled many fine restaurants in Hong Kong and could write a whole series now."

Jin Yong laughed: "So you alone nearly match Hong Kong's Four Great Talents—except you don't write science fiction."

Jin Yong rarely mentioned Hong Kong's Four Great Talents—he was a generation apart from the other three—but Wei Ming's versatility reminded him of this famous Hong Kong quartet.

The four were authorities in martial arts novels, music, science fiction, and gourmet writing respectively.

But Wei Ming replied bluntly: "Though I haven't written much science fiction, I recently published two stories under the pen name Wei Shénme—and I've already prepared their English editions."

"What are they called?"

"Jurassic Park. About dinosaurs."

Jin Yong noted it down, promising to read them later: "So you're stronger than all four of us combined!"

Wei Ming shook his head: "I just know a lot—I'm not an expert. In martial arts novels, no one after me will surpass 'Flying Snow, Connecting Heaven, Shooting White Deer; Laughing at the Gods, Leaning on the Green Parrot.' In music, I'm a latecomer, relying on inspiration—I dare not compare myself to Master Huang Zhan, a true master. As for food, I love to eat but not to cook—I hear Master Cai Lan has already recreated Huang Rong's 'Twenty-Four Bridges Under the Moonlight'—in appetite, I'm vastly inferior."

Wei Ming paused. Jin Yong thought he'd continue humbly—but he shifted tone: "After thinking it over, I'm confident I can surpass Ni Kuang in science fiction. The 'Wei Sili' series, in my view, lacks high-level sci-fi quality—it's easier to surpass."

Jin Yong didn't resent Wei Ming's dismissal of his friend—he found it reasonable. Such a versatile talent couldn't help being arrogant. He'd almost thought this boy was overly Confucian, too moderate.

Seeing Wei Ming reveal his edge, Jin Yong smiled: "May I publish your remarks in Ming Pao?"

"Since I said it out loud, there's nothing I'm afraid for others to know."

True to his youthful vigor, Jin Yong added, "Could you leave me your contact? We might have a chance to collaborate."

"Sure." Wei Ming gave him the phone number of the Overseas Chinese Apartment.

Jin Yong was thinking of reprinting Wei Ming's work in the Ming Pao, while Wei Ming was thinking of adapting Jin Yong's wuxia novels into comics.

In the 1990s, both Huang Yulang and Li Zhiqing, who was then lying low at Kuangren Comics, had done this—and both had succeeded greatly.

Huang Yulang illustrated Jin Yong's wuxia novels in the traditional Hong Kong comic style, while Li Zhiqing used the brushwork of classical ink painting to construct a martial world of extraordinary artistic beauty.

After parting with Wei Ming, Jin Yong's eighteen-year-old daughter Cha Chuanne turned back to look at him; she had heard every word of their conversation. This man was so young, yet so learned and talented—he was even more impressive than her father!

After seeing his aunt upstairs, Wei Ming didn't stay long. He said, "Rest well today. You can stroll around with Xiao Li. Tomorrow I'll arrange for you to meet my father, then we'll set a date to go to Mo Du."

Wei Lingling: "And Wei Anping—I want to see both of them."

"Alright." Wei Ming thought it made sense. He would have to confess to Uncle Anping about his grandfather, and that would inevitably involve Wei Lingling—so they really should meet.

Wei Lingling added, "He works at a university—should be on summer break by then. Have him come with us to Mo Du."

"Huh?" Wei Ming was confused—why did they need to bring Uncle Anping to Mo Du?

Wei Lingling dropped a bombshell: "The house—Auntie said we three will split it equally."

What?!

"Sis, Wei Ming's back!"

Among Gong Zhu and Gong Ying, Gong Zhu was the first to hear the news of Wei Ming's return to Beijing.

She received a call from her sister Gong Ying at the Beiyingchang dormitory.

At that moment, Gong Ying was with Liu Rulong, and she immediately passed on the information.

Xiao Wei hadn't stayed in Britain or become a British citizen—Gong Zhu was delighted. After a month of unease, the heavy stone in her chest finally settled.

"Do you know where he is?"

Gong Ying handed the phone directly to Ah Long to give a full report.

Ah Long took the phone: "Snow Sister, here's the situation: After Ah Ming landed, he split from us. He went to the Beijing Hotel to drop off relatives—I don't know where he went after that."

There were only three possible places: the Overseas Chinese Apartment, the Beichi Zi sihe courtyard, and the Tuanjiehu residence—but none of them belonged to her.

Gong Zhu sighed and could only wait in her guesthouse room, hoping he'd find her once he was done.

Wei Ming used the Beijing Hotel's phone to call the Zhongqing Bao and asked for reporter Zhu Wei.

He said little—his core message was one: I've been exposed.

Without eating, Wei Ming immediately asked the hotel's car to take him—his luggage was too much to carry.

At the Overseas Chinese Apartment, the gatekeeper, Old Sun, was astonished to see Wei Ming returned by car. Hadn't he been gone a month? Had this writer been promoted?

Wei Ming handed the old man a cigar and warned him: "Don't inhale this."

Old Sun immediately opened the gate and let the car drive to the building's entrance. Wei Ming went upstairs to call out—but only his grandmother was home.

"Your mother went out to deliver meals. Your father and sister went back to the hometown. They'll return tomorrow. Once he's back, I'm heading to Sichuan too."

Wei Ming remembered the Sichuan floods were likely imminent. He smiled: "Grandma, here's what I'll do—I'll send Xiao Yang over to escort you back. Otherwise I won't rest easy. And my father and I are going to Mo Du soon—you'll just have to wait a little longer~"

The driver downstairs was urging him. Wei Ming said: "It's settled. I brought you gifts from Hong Kong—wait a bit~"

(End of Chapter)