Chapter 332: Done and Done, Hong Kong Sleepless Through the Night

Before the choir began, Xia Meng and her husband were the first to respond, donating a check for HK$200, 00.

Jin Yong didn't know how much they donated; upon seeing it, he immediately added a HK$1, 00, 00 check, surely intending to surpass them.

But others responded sparingly—after all, donating now only showed face; the public didn't know how much you gave, and it wasn't glamorous at all, so if you were going to donate, do it early; now, just listen to the songs.

Behind the scenes, Wei Ming wore headphones, lost in writing, occasionally picking up his guitar to play—no one disturbed him, only Melinda kept watch.

Zhou Hui min longed to be the one guarding him, but it was her turn to perform.

Wang Qingquan pointed to the banner above: "Tomorrow Will Be Better, Hearts of All Chinese Connected."

"This Mandarin song is titled 'Tomorrow Will Be Better,' and it carries Ah Ming's heartfelt wishes for Sichuan, for China, and for world peace."

She stepped aside, and then a tall, slender girl in St. Stephen's Girls' College uniform stepped forward onto the stage first.

The camera zoomed in on her slightly nervous face; many viewers, especially the young, gasped: "So beautiful!"

She had that good-girl vibe—not necessarily loved by every boy, but deeply admired by parents.

Zhou Ma and Lao Gui and others immediately stood up cheering for Ah Min; while other stars had fanatical fans, Ah Min's entrance was quiet—her own family had to support her.

But Zhou Hui min didn't notice them; she focused on the intro, counting beats, then opened her mouth at the right moment—it was a Mandarin song.

"Gently knock awake the sleeping soul, slowly open your eyes~"

A clean, girl-like voice; after singing that line, others joined in—Zhang Mingmin: "Look at the busy world, does it still spin alone?"

Zhen Ni: "Spring wind doesn't understand romance, stirring the heart of youth."

Luo Wen: "Let the tears on yesterday's face dry with memory's breeze."

Tan Yonglin: "Look up, seek the wings in the sky, the migratory birds appear in shadow."

Zhang Guorong: "Bringing news of distant famine, merciless war, still present."

Chen Baiqiang: "Snow drifts over Shu Mountains, burning the heart of youth."

Zhong Zentao: "Turn true emotion into notes, whispering distant blessings."

Chorus: "Sing out your passion, stretch out your hands, let me embrace your dream, let me hold your sincere face."

At this point, stars gradually took the stage, while Zhou Hui min, who had sung the first line, had already stepped back, standing with her classmates to provide backing vocals.

Though this was a Mandarin song, the lyrics were easy to understand; most live audience members could follow, and even young children who didn't grasp the words found the melody delightful.

Listening to this song, when the donation box reached him, Cheng Long patted his pocket—his cash was scarce, so he simply placed his newly bought Rolex inside, truly stretching out his hands.

Seeing his junior show his support, Hong Jinyao emptied all his cash, displaying the elder brother's grandeur.

On TV, Liu Jialiang saw Hong Jinyao's actions and thought: Thank goodness Wei Ming invited me—I didn't go, or I'd have had to spend again. But this song really has something.

The song was long—over five and a half minutes—and other singers took turns, one line after another, creating a true music scene.

Thanks to the song's quality and the stellar performances of numerous powerhouse singers, VIP audience members began donating one after another.

Chen Peter, as a Taiwanese singer, felt this most deeply—if only this song could be released in Taiwan; he longed to gather all Taiwanese singers to record a version—it would surely soothe hearts profoundly.

This song also changed many young Hong Kongers' views on Mandarin songs, those who previously only listened to Cantonese and resisted Mandarin.

Eighteen-year-old Anita Mui watched TV with her brother, sister, and mother; whenever a new song came out, they copied down the lyrics and planned to sing them at Liyuan tomorrow.

Because when she was four, her father went to sea and never returned, her mother and five children struggled to survive; Anita Mui started singing on stage with her sister from a young age to earn money, mostly at Liyuan Amusement Park, singing mostly Cantonese songs.

But tonight, Wei Ming's Mandarin and Minnan songs left a deep impression on her, especially this final one, "Tomorrow Will Be Better"—the lyrics, melody, and the star-studded chorus format were all profoundly moving.

She looked at her family's cramped living space, clasped her hands together: "Tomorrow will surely be better, and I will surely become a great star!"

Zhou Hui min wished this song could last longer—if only it could be twenty minutes, it would give Ah Ming more time to write songs behind the scenes—but it had to end.

"Let me hold your sincere face (your sincere face), let our smiles be filled with youthful pride (youthful pride), let us look forward to tomorrow being better~"

The front-stage stars and the back-stage choir completed this final segment flawlessly; as the last lyric ended, the teenage boys and girls, aged fourteen to fifteen, excitedly held hands.

At first they'd feared they'd been tricked—who could have imagined they'd participated in such a grand event? This alone would make them proudly recall their entire high school years on graduation day.

This was simply awesome!

Meanwhile, Li Xiaotian and Cheng Yuling, in charge of donations, exchanged glances and arrived at a surprising result—another ten million had been raised in just this short time!

On stage, Wang Qingquan continued to stall, solemnly introducing the choir as from St. Stephen's Girls' College and thanking them for their cooperation.

As she spoke, Wei Ming walked out from behind, guitar on his back; the crowd erupted in deafening cheers and applause. Wang Qingquan, unaware, turned around and saw Wei Ming confidently walking to her side.

In this moment, this big boy utterly charmed everyone!

Even if he'd created something like "I am a spinach, cai cai cai cai cai," everyone would probably forgive him.

Wang Qingquan: "Ah Ming, have you already written a song?"

Wei Ming nodded: "But I haven't memorized the lyrics yet—A-jie, could you hold them for me?"

Wang Qingquan: "Of course no problem."

Wei Ming handed her a scribbled sheet of paper.

A-jie said: "Would you like to tell everyone how you came up with this song?"

Wei Ming said: "I know Zhen Ni has a song called 'Pearl of the Orient'—it's incredibly beautiful. I think 'Pearl of the Orient' perfectly describes Hong Kong, so I named mine 'Pearl of the Orient' too—but this one is a Mandarin song."

No one held him to account for this—he was from the mainland, and in such a short time, he could only have written a Mandarin song.

Their expectations were low: if it was half as good as "Tomorrow Will Be Better," it would be enough.

Wei Ming didn't know if it was half as good as "Tomorrow Will Be Better," but it was the perfect choice for this moment, this scene.

Wang Qingquan held up the lyrics: "Then let's begin."

Wei Ming: "Thanks, A-jie."

This was an a cappella performance; Wei Ming had to play and sing alone.

Behind him, everyone including Zhou Hui min watched the stage eagerly—this was a song no one knew, full of uncertainty.

Wei Ming began; his fingers strummed. No one knew his singing ability, but his guitar playing was already masterful—not inferior to most musicians on site.

After a moment, Wei Ming finally opened his mouth under the gaze of all.

"The little river bends southward, flowing to Hong Kong to take a look."

Hmm—the melody was good, his vocal technique was lacking, no wonder he didn't compete with singers; indeed, no one is perfectly flawless.

"Pearl of the Orient, my lover, does your charm still remain romantic?"

Comparing Hong Kong to a lover—this approach was rare; listeners found it fresh.

"The crescent moon over the harbor, deep night, lights shining bright—the Pearl of the Orient stays awake all night, guarding the promise of sea and land transformed."

The emotion in the lyrics grew richer; for those born and raised in Hong Kong, or who had lived here most of their lives, this feeling was especially profound.

Then came: "Let the sea breeze caress for five thousand years, every tear seems to speak of your dignity; let the tide accompany me to protect you—never forget I always have my yellow face."

As he sang this part, the camera cut to many VIPs' faces—everyone was deeply moved.

Zheng Yuling, holding the donation box, was suddenly called over—it was Lin Baixin, father of Lin Jianyue, boss of Lai Sun Group.

Lin Baixin came to Hong Kong in his twenties, lived here over forty years, and had experienced the painful Japanese invasion—those were days without dignity, unforgettable, never to be relived.

He handed Zheng Yuling a check; she looked—it was HK$3, 00, 00!

"The boat curves into the harbor, turning back to see the vast sea—the Pearl of the Orient embraces me, warming your lonely chest…"

Wei Ming's voice wasn't technically refined—just a natural, untrained tone—but his sincere delivery moved every Hong Konger present.

Then Guo Bingxiang, who had donated nothing before, gave HK$2, 00, 00.

Next, He Chaoqiong pulled out a large sum of pocket money; Xu Jinheng saw it and immediately donated again.

Even Tan Yonglin and others backstage, who had performed, were moved enough to reach for their wallets.

More and more people began generously donating—for charity, for this gentle, sincere song, and for the Pearl of the Orient.

Wei Ming had thought he'd need to read the lyrics, but once he started singing, he barely glanced at them, even began moving around the stage while playing and singing, his emotion growing fuller.

After singing the final two lines—"Never forget I always have my yellow face, never forget I always have my yellow face~"—Wei Ming closed his eyes, strumming his guitar, slowly bringing the performance to a close.

When the song ended, exhausted viewers poured their last ounce of energy into their hands, clapping wildly.

Hong Kongers sang about Hong Kong with "Lion Rock," with Zhen Ni's "Pearl of the Orient"; today, Wei Ming sang another angle of Hong Kong with his "Pearl of the Orient"—she was like a long-suffering, yet gentle lover, this was Hong Kong as seen by outsiders.

The three hosts returned to the stage; all participating singers, choir members, backup dancers, and musicians also took the stage.

Wang Qingquan: "Then, tonight's performance ends here. Ah Ming has given this show a perfect finale. Thank you all, thank everyone tonight. We will now tally the total donations and details, and publish them in Ming Pao, Ta Kung Pao, and other newspapers. Goodbye."

On and off stage, everyone waved goodbye; organizers and audience alike were thoroughly satisfied. For just HK$100, the experience felt like a HK$10, 00 luxury—worth it, absolutely worth it!

But as the audience began orderly exit, they saw again the donation box that had stood at the entrance since arrival.

Why did it feel like they'd taken advantage of the organizers?

The first audience member suddenly had this thought, then, inexplicably, stuffed his few hundred dollars in loose change into the box. Seeing this, later viewers quickly prepared their own loose change; some even brought bundles of cash—several thousand at least.

Such a performance deserved greater return.

The same thing happened at other exits; queues that should have moved quickly now slowed as people donated.

Liang Jiahui and his girlfriend Li Dianxin waited in line and spotted a familiar face—they stood in adjacent queues.

Li Hanxiang, about to donate, also saw them.

"Dad~" Li Dianxin let go of Liang Jiahui's arm and introduced him to Liang Jiahui, who was launching a magazine.

Li Hanxiang asked: "What kind of magazine?"

Liang Jiahui said: "'labouche,' a fashion magazine."

"Using foreign words? Never heard of it."

"Just a small magazine, small magazine," Liang Jiahui said nervously to this famous director, "Also, I'm studying acting at TVB's training class."

"Acting?" Li Hanxiang began seriously sizing up this boy with small eyes and no great looks.

On the other side, Liu Dehua, Qi Meizhen, Lian Jin, and other classmates were excitedly chatting while waiting in line to leave.

Then they saw Xu Jinjiang in a parallel queue.

Liu Dehua wondered: "Ah Jiang, why isn't your seat next to ours? We thought you didn't come."

Xu Jinjiang scratched his head: "Oh, the tickets weren't consecutive."

Qi Meizhen gratefully said: "Thank you so much for the tickets—if I had the chance to come in person but could only watch on TV, I'd regret it for life."

Wu Jiali added: "Yes, this is definitely the most unforgettable concert experience of my life!"

Xu Jinjiang grinned sheepishly: "As long as everyone likes it, I told you my friend is amazing, didn't I?"

A friend of a friend is a friend—he had already accepted Wei Ming as his own friend.

And Wei Ming simply regarded him as an idol.

At the exit, several young men from the wireless training class pulled out money and dropped it into the donation box, each giving at least a hundred.

Then everyone stared at Xu Jinjiang, hands in his pockets, offering nothing.

Xu Jinjiang froze, finally realizing what their glances meant.

"What's with you guys? I already donated when I came in—I only kept enough for my fare home."

But he couldn't bear their "No way, no way" looks, so in the end, he reluctantly donated his own fare too.

Luckily, after leaving, Xu Jinjiang met his senior brother Liu Rulong—this was a true fellow disciple—and he casually told Ah Long about his embarrassment.

Uncle Liu Bin chuckled: "Ah Jiang, just ride with our car—I'll drop you off at home."

"Thank you, Uncle Bin."

"No need to thank me. Have your parents moved to Hong Kong too?"

"No, they're still working as doctors in Guangzhou. I came here on my own."

"Impressive, impressive."

Old Ghost, beside him, said to Zhou Ma, who kept looking back: "Don't worry—Ah Ming will take Ah Min home. The performers won't be able to leave anytime soon."

Zhou Ma sighed and nodded: "Then let's go first."

Backstage.

Everyone first took a group photo, then those interested formed smaller groups for pictures—most wanted to take photos with Wei Ming, who reminded them to print him an extra copy; it would be such a meaningful keepsake.

Then, as the organizer, Wei Ming personally saw off each singer—he stayed behind last, even as Melinda and Sarah left first.

But Zhou Huimin, who could have ridden home with her classmates on the school bus, chose to stay and keep Wei Ming company.

Zhang Guorong asked Tan Yonglin curiously: "What's their relationship?"

Zhong Zhen Tao also wondered: "Isn't that red-haired beauty Melinda? Isn't she Ah Ming's ex-girlfriend? Didn't he write that song just for her?"

Tan Yonglin pushed them along: "Don't ask what you shouldn't. Let's go, let's go."

In the end, only Zhou Huimin remained, along with Wei Ming and the official staff.

The branch director warmly shook Wei Ming's hand and exclaimed excitedly: "Comrade Wei, heroes always emerge young!"

"Director Wang, you flatter me. If not for the state's backing, how would so many wealthy tycoons have bothered to come here—or donate generously for charity? Ultimately, it's the strength of the state they respect, and they hope to gain its support and recognition."

"Too modest, too modest." Then Director Wang invited Wei Ming to visit the office tomorrow—to tally the charity concert's results and to introduce him to a few people from China Resources and the Bank of China.

Though Wei Ming was just a commoner, today's achievement was too brilliant, too dazzling—such a young man deserved serious cultivation; he was truly a pillar of the nation!

Wei Ming nodded in agreement, then watched Director Wang and the others leave. Before departing, they glanced once more at the little girl Zhou Huimin, nearly asleep.

By the time he finished these final tasks, it was already midnight. Wei Ming hurried over and called: "Ah Min, it's time to go home."

"Oh." Zhou Huimin stood up, but today she seemed overexerted—her body swayed slightly, and Wei Ming quickly steadied her.

"You've worked hard today."

Ah Min: "What hard work? You're the one who worked hard. Ah Ming, didn't we raise over a hundred million?"

"Yes. Over a hundred million."

"So can this save a lot of people?"

"Yes. This money will free millions from hunger and post-disaster epidemics, and give them the strength to rebuild their homes." Wei Ming said firmly—he had told the branch staff from the start that these funds must be used exclusively for this purpose, or else he would break the hearts of Hong Kong's people.

But they hadn't expected such a huge sum—he'd have to reiterate this tomorrow.

In truth, Wei Ming hadn't expected it either. This concert had been meticulously planned—his first step was Guo He Nian.

Once he confirmed Guo He Nian would attend, Wei Ming replaced the Mandarin song originally planned for Zhang Mingmin with the Minnan song "Love Is What Makes You Win."

He knew Guo He Nian loved this song and often quoted: "Three parts fate, seven parts hustle—only love and hustle win."

So this was a targeted appeal to his tastes—just to secure a strong opening.

But he hadn't expected it to go this far—it hit five million right away, and the following songs were all carefully chosen to stir the tycoons' emotions, so the donations kept climbing.

Of course, the rich second-generation couldn't be ignored, so several young singers tailored their performances to their tastes.

But no one expected Ho To Wang to deliver an unexpected boost—single donations soared into the tens of millions.

Then, with each hit song, the donation total kept rising.

Finally, several tycoons seemed to compete for the title of "Top Benefactor" of this historic charity concert, pushing donations past one hundred million—and nearly sparking a feud between two shipping magnates.

Indeed, no matter how well Wei Ming planned, he could never outmatch "heaven's favor."

As Wei Ming reflected, he held Ah Min's hand as they walked out—she was now slightly dizzy from overexcitement; he had to hold her or she might stumble.

It was chilly at night, and Ah Min still wore her school's short skirt uniform. Wei Ming gallantly took off his leather jacket and draped it over her.

Ah Min happily slipped her hands into the jacket's pockets—and felt something.

In the car, she pulled it out: a small square wrapped in plastic.

She had just realized what it was when Wei Ming snatched it back: "Come on, close your eyes and rest. I'll wake you when we get there."

Ah Min pouted—she understood now. It was a modern contraceptive pill. Ah Ming and Melinda had definitely rekindled their romance, hadn't they?

Or was it just a brief release?

If it was only the latter, she still had a chance.

As the car pulled away from the stadium, Ah Min, eyes closed, suddenly said: "Ah Ming, it's late."

"Don't worry—I'll walk you up to your floor."

Ah Min whispered carefully: "I mean… what if I stayed at your hotel tonight? You could book me a room—I've never stayed in a hotel before. Or if you don't want to book one, we could just… make do."

"Screech!" Wei Ming slammed the car to a stop.

"Do you know what you're saying?"

Ah Min wouldn't look up, but her voice was firm: "I know—it's late. I don't want to wake Mom."

Wei Ming smiled: "Don't worry—if a daughter doesn't come home, her mother won't sleep."

Zhou Huimin finally lifted her head and looked at Wei Ming: "Then what if it's not because of that? What if I just… want to stay with you…"

Wei Ming flicked her forehead sharply—the sharp crack echoed in the car, cutting off her words.

Ah Min winced, clutching her head, while Wei Ming restarted the car and changed the route.

(PS: Song list and donation amounts by person below ↓)

(End of Chapter)