Chapter 378

But since it was company money, Wei Ming didn't object—it was too good a deal to pass up, given how wildly profitable Pacific Company was!

A cassette cost six yuan and ninety fen; Wei Ming's two albums this year contributed over five million cassettes, roughly 30 million yuan in revenue, with profits exceeding ten million—Pacific Company's exorbitant profits were staggering, and monopoly businesses were truly profitable.

If Hong Kong musicians knew this, they'd be envious to death—in their world, fifty thousand copies meant a platinum record, though two cassettes equaled one vinyl, counted as one sale.

But Pacific's monopoly on cassettes would last only another two years; both Modu and Yanjing were applying to establish audio-visual companies, and China Records was seeking resource integration—soon, three music centers would emerge from north to south, allowing recording and cassette release anywhere.

Hearing Liao Mingzu's apologies, Wei Ming said he understood: "It's not your business, and you've had it hard."

"Sigh!" Liao Mingzu sighed deeply, venting his grievances. "We made good profits this year, so I wanted to import new foreign equipment to improve our cassette production and recording quality—but Guangdong TV set its eyes on that money and plans to use it to build a TV station building."

So he took advantage of the funds still on the company's books to create the Skylark Award, using his authority to secure benefits for music teachers—by tomorrow, nearly all China's famous musicians would gather here, and over dinner Wei Ming had already spotted several familiar faces.

But Liao Mingzu had another matter.

"Wei Teacher, the song 'Rugged Rose' has been talked about for ages—why hasn't anything happened yet? Are there difficulties? Tell me."

The song had been circulating for over half a month through the volleyball team's mouths, but only its name was known, never its sound.

Wei Ming said: "The difficulty is that no known singers suit its style, so I and Teacher Gu Jianfen have found a new vocalist—once she's trained, we'll record it."

"Oh, then I'm relieved—the whole nation is waiting," Liao Mingzu said, unconcerned about fading hype; with the volleyball team's popularity, unless they lost their next match spectacularly, the song's momentum wouldn't fade.

The next international volleyball championship was the World Championship next autumn—he was confident he could sell two million copies of this song, even without having heard it yet.

Wei Ming added: "I've written another song recently—dedicated to the Class of '77 at Peking University—called 'Wishing You a Safe Journey.'"

Liao Mingzu beamed: "That's perfect! We should record it quickly so the first graduating class after 'Weng Weng' can hear it."

Wei Ming: "I've got the sheet music—I'll give it to you later."

So over dinner they focused entirely on 'Wishing You a Safe Journey'; Wei Ming also tasted several new gourmet dishes, gathering material for a food manga—each dish cost more than his song.

The next morning, Wei Ming attended the Skylark Award ceremony and received a 1, 00-yuan prize—about ten people received this award.

Since he was eager to go to Hong Kong, he skipped lunch and left immediately.

Later, he heard that Guangdong's top official had published a letter in the newspaper congratulating these ten musicians—with the youngest, Wei Ming, listed first.

Guangzhou wasn't far from Hong Kong, so Wei Ming took the train directly—the train still carried the flavor of everyday life, letting him truly sense the locals' mindset and spirit.

In inland and northern regions, people still needed to liberate their thinking—but Guangdong people didn't; they'd already broken free completely, now focused solely on making money, with a vibrant, bold market—on the train ride, Wei Ming bought a bagful of small goods.

At the station, after some procedures, Wei Ming finally entered the territory governed by the British Hong Kong government.

Compared to flying, taking the train meant Wei Ming missed the chance to eat at the Hong Li Lai airport branch—outside the station, only snacks were available.

After a light meal, Wei Ming hopped in a taxi and headed for Hong Kong Island.

Weighing priorities, he decided to check on Lao Gui and A Min first.

The taxi drove straight to the Hong Li Lai store in Central—this store was open 24 hours, and it wasn't late yet; inside, Hong Li Lai Princess's new song 'The Maiden's Prayer' played.

Many teenage fans ate burgers while listening to A Min's music, holding copies of 'Maniac Comics.'

Seeing such customers, Wei Ming felt warmth—they were quality patrons!

There were also parents who ordered kids' meals; the children's happiest moment was pulling out a plastic toy from inside—the toys all came from Langning Toy Factory.

"Where's your boss?" Wei Ming noticed Lao Gui's Mazda parked outside.

The store manager recognized Wei Ming and bowed politely: "Young Master Ming, the boss had a few drinks and took a taxi home."

Wei Ming smiled: "Do you have the car keys?"

The manager immediately handed them over; Wei Ming grabbed the keys and turned to leave, then suddenly turned back: "Do you know why he drank?"

"He won money betting on horses—celebrating, I guess."

"Oh." Wei Ming's smile faded—he went upstairs to find Lao Gui.

"Who is it?"

It was Lin Ni, Hou Nainai's voice.

"Little Ming! You've come to Hong Kong!" Hou Nainai peered around the doorway. "Didn't your father come with you?"

"No. I heard Grandpa drank—how much?"

"I'm fine, just had a little," Lao Gui spoke up, then told Lin Ni, "Go across and tell A Min that Ming is here."

"But there's a phone—why not just call?"

Lao Gui: "You never exercise. Climbing stairs is good for you—you're a nurse, don't you know that?"

After much coaxing, Lao Gui got Lin Ni out the door; Wei Ming quickly asked: "You rarely drink— I heard you bet on horses—did you win or lose?"

Lao Gui sat down: "I bet on animals—I can't lose. I won. A lot."

Wei Ming believed him: "Then why are you drinking alone? Winning money should make you happy."

Lao Gui sighed: "When I was young, I was reckless. Once, during a mission, I gambled briefly at a den—I was followed by thugs, nearly missed delivering vital intelligence, and caused a comrade to be exposed—his entire network was ruined. I swore then never to gamble again—and I never touched it after that."

"Then why break your vow now?" Wei Ming asked. "Is it because the company needs expansion funds?"

"We got a loan—we're renovating our fourth and fifth stores," Lao Gui said. "I wanted to buy a house, but I couldn't raise enough cash. Seeing your father and mother coming soon, I broke my vow once."

Wei Ming understood: the promise to buy his son a house in Hong Kong had forced him to betray his own oath—he felt deep guilt, as if he'd abandoned his faith, hence the drinking.

Wei Ming could only pat his shoulder: "It's a peaceful era now—you don't need to be so tense. Relaxing a little benefits longevity. You want to live to see five generations under one roof, don't you?"

Lao Gui looked up: "Your father and I had children young. Step up your game—we might even see five generations."

Wei Ming laughed: "Fine, it's settled. You can't die before we reach five generations."

Lao Gui shook his head: "It's just that A Min is still too young—I've got a long wait ahead."

It didn't have to be A Min, Wei Ming thought guiltily, changing the subject: "So how much did you actually win betting on horses?"

Lao Gui: "Two million."

"What?!" Wei Ming's voice nearly cracked—were you the God of Gambling or the Saint?!

"Don't overreact," Lao Gui said. "My stake was 500, 00 yuan, and I didn't bet once—I bet over half a month, winning and losing, finally accumulating 2. million. Now I've studied the horses thoroughly—future win rates will be even higher."

Wei Ming thought: Why bother running fast-food shops? Betting on horses makes money so fast!

Faster than writing songs—even a hit song needs time for market response.

But then he reconsidered: this was morally wrong—it'd corrupt children—so he dropped the idea.

"You have 500, 00 yuan in capital—surely that's enough for a house."

"Enough for a small one in a bad location—but our whole family—me, your step-grandma, your parents, your aunt, your Ping'an uncle's family, and you—would be too cramped."

Wei Ming laughed: "You're overthinking. I can stay at a hotel or at the manga company. Your parents will likely get dorms at Ocean Park. Your Ping'an uncle won't bring his whole family to live here long-term."

"You don't have to live here, but I must have one," Lao Gui insisted. "It's my duty as a father."

"Alright," Wei Ming asked eagerly, "Now you have 2. million—how big a house are you planning to buy? Any ideas?"

At this, Lao Gui grew hesitant again: "I'm still deciding—buy one big house, or two small ones?"

Wei Ming said directly: "Buy two."

"You think so? Won't that make your father feel distant?"

"Living apart makes everyone happier. If you're afraid he'll drift away, take him to bet on horses twice—he'll bond with you," Wei Ming advised, thinking Lao Gui deserved his own marital life—living with his young wife and his son's family was too inconvenient.

At that moment, A Min's energetic voice came from outside.

"Ming!"

Wei Ming: "A Min, wait a sec—I need to talk to Lao Gui."

Lao Gui opened the door and ushered A Min in: "No need—let A Min listen. You can pass on a message to your mother."

"What message?"

Lao Gui said: "I know your mother wants to buy a house but lacks funds—tell her not to worry—I'll lend her whatever she's short."

"Really?!" A Min nearly jumped for joy—these public housing units were meant for the poor without property; now that their family had opened so many stores, continuing to occupy public resources was inappropriate—she'd long wanted a better living environment.

But she knew the shops kept expanding, and her mother had little cash on hand.

"Wait!" Wei Ming suddenly remembered something. "Don't buy a house now!"

"Why?!" both old and young exclaimed together.

Wei Ming: "Buying now means losing money. Rent first—wait for prices to drop, then buy at the bottom."

A Min: "You understand property? How can you be sure prices will fall?"

Wei Ming: "You clearly don't follow mainland developments. By next year at the latest, China and Britain will begin negotiations over Hong Kong. Within three years, Hong Kong's return will be settled—and it will definitely be returned. Given how Hong Kong media has demonized the mainland for decades, guess what'll happen to property prices then."

A Min was still blinking, but Lao Gui had already judged: "It'll crash—plummet!"

"Exactly!"