Chapter 316: The Storm Is Coming, Siblings Reunited

Wei Anping felt puzzled—had his nephew from Hong Kong secured business for Fangzheng, with a major client in Shanghai?

At the dinner table, Wei Ming did not continue; Anping uncle could only suppress his curiosity for now, watching Xi Zi and Le Le play joyfully.

Wei Ming bought Le Le an electronic keyboard, a high-end model that could simulate a piano.

Wei Ming had wanted to buy his cousin a real piano, but the living room wouldn't allow it.

Xi Zi played various toy guns that emitted lights and sounds—products from Langning Toy Factory.

Too bad Transformers still existed only on paper; Xi Zi would surely love them—no little boy could resist the lure of transforming mechs.

During dinner, Xiao Yan aunt hesitantly brought up work matters.

"Zheng Yuanjie's 'Magic Cube Building' has been serialized for two chapters; though its influence doesn't match yours in 'Black Cat Detective,' the children's letters are plentiful. I hear magic cubes are now sold in department stores, and youth palaces have started magic cube interest classes—all because young readers became curious after reading the novel."

Wei Ming smiled: "Looks like this novel has helped popularize the magic cube."

Lu Xiaoyan sighed: "Little Zheng says he'll write one chapter for every piece of the cube—monthly, so the serialization will last at least two years."

"That's great—Zheng Yuanjie's novel is high-quality and fast-written; two years of serialization means over twenty issues without worrying about manuscripts." But Wei Ming noticed Xiao Yan aunt showed no joy.

Lu Xiaoyan said: "Normally, our 'Children's Literature' fairy tale section features only three or four stories per issue. Now your two long serials occupy two slots—the editorial team is strongly opposed."

Although 'Black Cat Detective' greatly boosted 'Children's Literature's circulation, this isn't a private magazine—it's state-run. Beyond providing children with excellent, age-appropriate literature, its core mission includes discovering more children's literature writers.

Now, with Wei Ming and Zheng Yuanjie dominating each issue, at most one or two other authors' fairy tales can appear, hindering talent discovery.

"So the chief editor called a meeting and decided to cut the fat—new rules: if a novel hasn't finished serialization after three issues, it will be published as a book upon completion, based on quality. So I'm telling you—'Black Cat Detective' can't continue serialization." Lu Xiaoyan spoke shyly, even unsure how to face Wei Ming—she'd just accepted his gift.

Wei Ming remained calm—a single issue of 'Black Cat Detective' paid only a few dozen yuan; he didn't need the money, but he pitied the young readers.

Previously, children got a new Black Cat Detective story every month; now, under the new rule, they'd have to wait until a full book was compiled—like suddenly switching from daily web novel updates to monthly ones; young readers would curse.

And Zheng Yuanjie, being money-driven, would stop submitting to 'Children's Literature' without serialization fees.

Wei Ming thought a moment: "Xiao Yan aunt, could we establish a new children's literature magazine under China Children's Publishing House, dedicated solely to long serials, freeing up space in 'Children's Literature' for more new authors?"

"Huh? Another magazine?" Lu Xiaoyan mused.

"Yes—and you become chief editor. I've already named it: 'Fairy Tale King.'"

Hearing this, Lu Xiaoyan stirred with excitement; she'd recently been promoted, and higher-ups had hinted at making her deputy chief editor—but being second-in-command was nothing compared to being the boss.

She began seriously considering the possibility: "If we launch a new magazine with long-form children's literature, sourcing manuscripts will be a huge problem."

Children's literature mostly consists of short stories—not only due to writing difficulty, but also for children's reading convenience.

Wei Ming smiled: "If it really happens, I'll write you another long fairy tale series."

Lu Xiaoyan, the daughter of a military family, slammed the table: "You said it—I'll talk to the director tomorrow!"

"If funding is an issue, I can offer some paid assistance," Wei Ming said meaningfully.

The state tightly controls publishing; magazines must be affiliated with state-owned publishers—including Zheng Yuanjie's future 'Fairy Tale King.'

If Xiao Yan aunt's new magazine faced financial resistance, Wei Ming had no objection to owning it outright.

Over dinner, a few words had ignited Xiao Yan aunt's passion; after eating, she insisted on seeing her nephew downstairs.

Wei Anping said: "Watch Xi Zi and Le Le—I'll see him off."

Downstairs, he couldn't wait: "Now you can tell me—what's this big gift?"

Wei Ming pulled him a few steps further, to an open area, confirmed no one was within ten meters, then said: "Uncle, my father and I have kept a huge secret from you."

Wei Anping, a sharp man, guessed: "You didn't contact your uncle in Taiwan, did you? That's a principle issue!"

"No."

Wei Anping exhaled in relief.

Wei Ming: "It's worse than that."

Wei Anping: "..."

"Can I not listen?" Wei Anping hesitated—he feared he might be compelled to turn in his own kin; ignorance was safer.

Wei Ming smiled: "You can't—not this time. It involves you."

"Then tell me quickly." Wei Anping scanned the surroundings warily.

He'd prepared for the worst—but when Wei Ming said, "My grandfather Wei Senhao is still alive," he jolted in shock.

"What!"

"Shh~"

Wei Ming concisely explained his grandfather's fate after being severely wounded in Korea.

"And he remarried there, had a daughter named Wei Lingling, who now lives at the Yanjing Hotel. She's American, graduated from Stanford, and is close to Auntie. Auntie owns a valuable old Western-style villa in Shanghai—legally reclaimable. Little Aunt came back specifically to handle this."

Wei Anping had calmed down: "Does your father know all this?"

"He doesn't know about Little Aunt or the villa—he's back in the hometown. I haven't seen him yet, but he may have returned."

Wei Anping decided: "Let's go now and discuss this with him."

He climbed onto Wei Ming's motorcycle and continued asking: "What do you mean by sending me to Shanghai?"

Wei Ming: "Auntie said if we reclaim the villa, Little Aunt, your brother, and you—three of you—will split it equally."

"What!"

This was Wei Anping's second shock of the day.

His first reaction, like Wei Ming's, was: this made no sense.

Though he and Wei Jiefang were as close as brothers, they weren't actually close kin—his father and Wei Ming's were cousins; Wei Ming and Xi Zi's children were already beyond the fifth degree of kinship.

Wei Ming smiled: "One-third of this villa is worth at least ten or twenty thousand yuan. Uncle, aren't you happy?"

Wei Anping warned: "I'm just worried there's a trap. With my current position, if this is true, I must report it upward."

"Aren't you exposing Grandpa then?"

Wei Anping thought: "Then I'll give up my share. If I suddenly inherit overseas property, I can't explain it—just like Grandpa's past, which can't be explained."

Compared to one-third of a Shanghai mansion, Wei Anping cared more about not jeopardizing his current job.

Wei Ming sighed: "Let's wait until we meet Little Aunt."

Beijing Film Studio.

Zhu Lin spent the morning with Wei Ming, then in the afternoon filmed 'Little Courtyard' at the courtyard, and after wrapping, went to Beijing Film Studio to find Gong Ying.

Seeing her room had more items, she smiled: "You've met him?"

Gong Ying nodded: "Judging by your look, you've met him too."

Zhu Lin touched her rosy cheeks: "Is it that obvious?"

Gong Ying glanced at the mirror; as someone who'd been there, she could instantly tell the difference between a woman well-loved and one who wasn't.

Zhu Lin sat beside Gong Ying on the bed, which creaked loudly.

"You didn't meet there, right? You went to the Sihe Academy?" Zhu Lin asked curiously.

Gong Ying dodged: "Who says we didn't meet here? He left everything here."

"Then there's a second location—this place is impossible for anything."

Gong Ying quickly covered Zhu Lin's mouth—she spoke too freely; what if someone was eavesdropping?

Zhu Lin still beamed: "I didn't get out of bed all day."

Gong Ying pinched her cheek—shame on you! I was worn out all night—did I boast about it?

"Does he support you taking 'Du Shiniang'?" Gong Ying asked Zhu Lin.

The Changchun Film Studio director had come to Beijing to meet Zhu Lin, had her in period costume for photos—she looked perfect as an ancient figure, though her posture and demeanor were too modern and needed correction, which she could get at the Central Academy of Drama.

"Oh!" Zhu Lin slapped her thigh, "I was so distracted I forgot to mention this!"

She'd completely forgotten—thank goodness Gong Ying reminded her.

"Forget it—I'll go to the Overseas Chinese Apartment and see if I can catch him."

Zhu Lin hid outside the Overseas Chinese Apartment and actually spotted him—but Wei Ming's motorcycle carried Wei Anping, so she retreated; with others present, she'd call later.

Wei Ming and Anping uncle arrived just in time—Old Wei had just come from Li Guangfu's place; this year's students visiting Beijing still stayed there. His Sihe Academy still had a few stubborn holdouts—he'd give them another intense summer training.

Wei Jiefang, having enjoyed his stint as principal, now wore a Liberation cap with a pen pinned to his chest—looking quite official.

"Hey, you two came just right—listen to me: this year, five of the top ten students from Gouzitun Primary School advancing to junior high are from our village—five! I've decided to bring all five to Beijing to broaden their horizons."

Wei Ming said: "That's great. Later, let's talk—I want to donate to the commune junior high and the county No. 1 High School."

These were his alma maters.

"Huh?" Both Wei Anping and Wei Jiefang were stunned—so suddenly?

Wei Ming: "I've been earning too much lately—I need to give some away."

After speaking with the journalist, he estimated 'China Youth Daily' would soon report on his other alias and his international achievements as a musician. Though he downplayed the one million, other tabloids might dig up the truth.

"Brother, come out—let the men of our Wei family have a meeting," Wei Ming said. Wei Anping spoke up. Wei Jiefang's eyes darted—he guessed it was about Grandpa. He put down his chopsticks: "Let's go downstairs."

"Hey, what are you talking about? I'm not a Wei family man?" Wei Hong followed.

Wei Ming: "But you're not a Wei family man—I'll tell you about overseas publishing later. You've got good news too."

He brushed her off; the three went downstairs and found an open spot. Wei Jiefang gave the order, and nearby stray cats scattered.

Wei Ming pulled out a photo: "This is my photo with Grandpa."

Wei Jiefang snatched it instantly; Wei Anping rushed over too.

Old Wei's eyes filled with tears: "They said life was better over there—why has he aged so fast? He's not even sixty!"

Wei Anping's eyes also reddened: "But his eyes still shine—unchanged after all these years."

Wei Ming: "Grandpa was severely wounded—he nearly died. If Uncle hadn't taken him to Taiwan and found the best surgeons, he wouldn't have survived. But he still felt guilty, believing he'd betrayed the Party and the country. So in Hong Kong, he refused Uncle's aid, took the lowest jobs, and lived hard these years."

Old Wei wiped his tears: "Go on."

Wei Ming: "But in Taiwan, he was forced to marry a woman and had a daughter—just a few years older than me—named Wei Lingling."

Moved, Old Wei suddenly turned into Wei Anping: "What!"

Wei Anping: "Shhh~"

Wei Ming: "He lives at the Beijing Hotel. Shall we meet tomorrow?"

"No way, now there's a little sister too? This is just too much." Old Wei felt conflicted—he and Anping had always longed for a little sister as children, but to suddenly have one at this age? It was absurd.

Wei Ming then told him about the old Western-style house in the Magic City. When Old Wei learned Wei Anping was also an heir, he wasn't surprised—he figured the old man was just making amends to Anping, given how he'd treated Auntie back then.

"Alright then, let's meet tomorrow," Wei Jiefang said. "At the Beijing Hotel?"

Wei Ming shook his head: "That place is too tightly guarded and too crowded. Better to meet at the sihe courtyard. I'll call her right away to confirm."

Wei Jiefang nodded: "Fine. I'll leave the tour guide duties to your sister—and have your mom prepare some good wine and dishes to entertain her."

Then Old Wei took Wei Ming's car keys and drove Anping home himself. The brothers surely had things to discuss about the old man.

Upstairs, Wei Ming immediately scheduled a time with his aunt.

"I'll come pick you up then."

After hanging up, Wei Ming told Xiao Hong: "Your book's about to be published, and it's been selected as a key title for the Frankfurt Book Fair in October. The publisher's already invited me—I'll see if I can bring you along."

"Bring me? Abroad?" Xiao Hong couldn't believe it.

Wei Ming nodded: "Of course."

Xiao Hong immediately pressed against the wall, staring at the world map: "Germany—here. Where's Frankfurt?"

Wei Ming pointed it out. Xu Shufen and Grandma also came over: "That far?"

Xiao Hong laughed: "My brother's already been to England—farther than Germany!"

Ding ding—the phone rang again. Xiao Hong answered it herself.

"It's for you, Brother—it's Zhu Lin," Xiao Hong shouted, then added into the phone: "Miss Zhu, I love you as Shuilian!"

After her confession, she handed the phone to her older brother.

Hearing it was about a role offer, Wei Ming said plainly: "I think you should try it—it'll broaden your acting range."

Wei Ming strongly urged her to take it. Changying Studio, one of the Big Three, needed no introduction. "Midlife" and "Du Shiniang" were Changying's two strongest films of 1982—one award-worthy, the other wildly popular with audiences.

As for Zhu Lin's concern about playing a prostitute, the film's biggest criticism was how clean it was—turning a courtesan into a Li Qingzhao-style scholar. It was a flaw, but it also lowered the difficulty of her performance.

Playing these two Changying films would be pivotal for Zhu Lin's acting career—though it was a shame for Pan Hong.

Pan Hong: "Are you done yet?!"

With Wei Ming's approval, Zhu Lin felt reassured. Then she asked softly if he'd come again tomorrow.

Grandma, Mom, and Aunt were all watching him. Wei Ming laughed: "Let's leave it there. I've got things to do tomorrow—I need an early night."

Zhu Lin: "I understand. You're busy tomorrow."

The next day, before dawn, eighteen-year-old Long Xiaoyang slung his backpack over his shoulder and set out alone.

When he left his village, the sky was clear—but by Chengdu, clouds had gathered thickly.

But rain was common in Sichuan this season. He didn't sense anything unusual about this rain; his mind was full of excitement—he was heading to the capital again, even if just to bring Grandma back home. It showed his cousin valued him.

Long Xiaoyang's departure coincided with the first day of the 1981 college entrance exam.

This year's exam takers dropped sharply from last year's, to just 2. 9 million, but admissions stayed the same—universities and majors hadn't changed. The biggest shift: English scores rose from 30 to 50 points, part of a steady upward trend.

Wei Ming read this while eating breakfast. This year's admission rate would reach about 10%, yet over two million youths still faced rejection.

Rural candidates fared better—they had land, something to do. Urban youths could only hope their fathers would hand over their jobs—but usually, several children waited for each father's position.

Wei Ming sighed: "It's hard for everyone."

He didn't rush to the Beijing Hotel. First, he took Xiao Hong to Li Guangfu's house and met this year's outstanding elementary student.

Li Guangfu shook Wei Ming's hand: "Teacher Wei, you've been so busy—we haven't seen each other in ages."

Wei Ming smiled: "I was just thinking of visiting the People's Art Theatre."

"You must come. The new students are rehearsing 'The Two Donkeys'—they all want to meet you, the great writer."

Wei Ming guessed these new students were Dan Dan and Liang Xiaopang's cohort—old acquaintances he ought to meet.

"Sure. Once I'm done with this stretch, I'll come pay a visit."

"By the way, you asked me to keep an eye on the sihe courtyard—I…"

Li Guangfu lowered his voice to whisper, but Wei Ming spotted Qi Kexiu walking out.

"Uncle Qi?"

Qi Kexiu hung his head: "Oh, Xiao Ming. I'm the team leader this time."

Qi Kexiu was from Beijing, but his parents and brothers had no room for him—so he didn't go home. He just stayed with the students.

Wei Ming nodded: "I was worried Xiao Hong wouldn't be a good guide. With you, I'm at ease."

He then spoke with the students. This year's group was almost entirely new—over half were fresh faces. Even elementary schools were getting competitive now; staying in the top three wasn't easy.

Beijing Hotel.

At breakfast, Wei Lingling met Jin Yong's family and exchanged greetings.

Newspapers still served as advertising platforms. If Wei Lingling planned to make toys in Hong Kong, how could she not know this media tycoon?

If Jin Yong were merely a famous novelist in the Chinese world, the Chief Designer wouldn't have invited him. His real value lay in the Ming Pao newspaper.

Since the meeting time hadn't come yet, Jin Yong went to Xinhua Bookstore after eating—he wanted to buy books by Wei Ming and Wei something.

Wei Lingling told Lizhi to go out and explore on her own—she no longer needed company.

So Lizhi wandered until she reached Oriental New World. She'd heard of this brand often in the Magic City—today she'd finally get to see it properly.

Half an hour after Lizhi left, Wei Ming found Wei Lingling in the hotel lobby.

"Let's go."

Wei Lingling asked: "Need the hotel car?"

"No. I'll drive."

Then Wei Lingling saw a motorcycle. She seemed excited, took the helmet, and told her nephew: "I'll drive. You point the way."

"Can you even ride?"

"Stop nagging. When I rode motorcycles, you were probably still in diapers," Wei Lingling retorted.

Sihe courtyard. Lunch was ready. Wei Jiefang found an excuse to send his wife away—this matter must stay secret. It concerned Anping and his son's future.

The food simmered on the stove. The two paced nervously back and forth, making the police chief dizzy. Meanwhile, Yinxing trotted after them around the courtyard, full of energy.

She hoped to get a bone when dinner came.

Hearing the motorcycle, Old Wei rushed to open the door—and saw Mei Wenhua.

"Uncle, is Ming here? He came back but I didn't even get to see him."

Old Wei: "You're going to the shop? I'll have him come find you later."

At the alley corner, Wei Lingling said: "He's gone. Can we go now?"

"Go ahead."

As Old Wei was about to close the door, he heard another motorcycle. He thought Mei Wenhua had returned—but turned to see a graceful female rider, with Wei Ming behind her, stopping at the gate.

"Dad, we're back," Wei Ming said. Wei Lingling removed her helmet. The three—Wei Jiefang, Wei Anping, and Wei Lingling—locked eyes.

A strange feeling stirred among them. Each seemed to see traces of themselves in the others' faces.

Wei Ming broke the silence: "Stop staring. Come inside and talk."

(End of Chapter)