Chapter 384

"Gangdan, Bas, come here!" Old Wei waved to the two giant pandas with a basket of apples, then let them perform eating apples in front of the tourists.

He deliberately took an odd number of apples—one for you, one for it—leaving one last apple, then grinned mischievously and placed it between the two pandas, asking, "Who gets the last one?"

Gangdan snatched it up instantly, then pushed it toward Bas's face, nudging it gently to urge her to eat.

The outside audience burst into laughter—licking dogs they'd seen, but licking pandas? First time ever.

Though it was Monday, there were still plenty of tourists come to see the two little giant pandas; even the zoo's original pandas were neglected, partly because Gangdan and his mate knew how to entertain, and partly because every day now was one day fewer.

Newspapers had long reported that the zoo's two new young pandas were to be gifted to Hong Kong compatriots, in gratitude for their fundraising efforts for Sichuan's disaster victims.

Today, the departure date was finally set; Xu Shufen rushed over to tell Old Wei: "Director, Director…"

Old Wei tensed: "Why'd you shout out my ambition like that?"

Xu Shufen caught her breath: "The director wants to see you!"

Old Wei went to the director's office he'd long wanted to replace—he'd just received a call from the Hong Kong Office: "Comrade Jiefang, go home and make arrangements—you're preparing to head to Hong Kong!"

There was hardly anyone left at home now; once the two of them left, only their daughter and a pair of cat and dog remained.

After work, the couple specifically went to Peking University to tell their daughter.

"Stay at school until your brother comes back—don't come home; traveling alone isn't safe."

Wei Hong felt utterly forlorn—she'd become a left-behind child. Luckily, her parents had left her enough pocket money and food coupons.

Then they called Xiao Mei, asking her and Biaozi to stop by the Sihe Academy each day on their way to the shop to bring food and water for the ginkgo and the Chief.

"That's all, right?" Old Wei asked.

Xu Shufen: "Shall I make some stinky tofu to take along? Mom said Dad always loved her tofu—fresh tofu doesn't keep well, and I don't have the tools, so I'll just make stinky tofu instead; I learned the method from Mom."

Old Wei: "Why does Mom tell you everything?!"

"Fine, fine, do as you like. I'll tell Ping'an too—this trip, we don't even know when we'll be back."

Today is Monday, the fourth day of "A Mistaken Seven Days of Love"'s release, and the promotional campaign is now clearly gaining momentum.

First, "Film Double Weekly," which Wei Ming had not arranged.

Shu Qi, after watching the film, immediately contacted Ye Tong to take a photo shoot, making her the cover star of the magazine's second issue this month; inside, he and several key staff members—Luo Ka and Shi Qi—also published articles praising this year's biggest December surprise.

Luo Ka rated Tan Jiaming's "A Mistaken Seven Days of Love" as "retaining the author's perspective, but wrapped in commercial sugar."

Shi Qi called "A Mistaken Seven Days of Love" a film that infused the New Wave's realism into popular comedy, subtly reflecting the anxiety hidden beneath Hong Kong's economic boom.

Founder and editor-in-chief Shu Qi, beyond evaluating the film's content, also lavished praise on newcomer Ye Tong's performance, saying she had blended the fiery temper and fragility of a wronged wife into a seamless whole—given time, her potential was limitless.

"Film Double Weekly" was a key battleground for Hong Kong's New Wave cinema, championing New Wave films and providing theoretical backing; it wasn't interested in celebrity gossip, so sales were low, but everyone in the film industry—especially those with artistic aspirations—bought every issue without fail, earning it elite reputation among niche audiences.

For example, Wang Jing went to see "A Mistaken Seven Days of Love" after reading "Film Double Weekly"—at this point, he and Shu Qi hadn't yet become enemies.

Wang Jing himself had an artistic soul, but he was pragmatic enough to know such things couldn't bring him wealth or glory, so he didn't make them himself—but when conditions allowed, he'd support artistic directors.

Now 26, he graduated from the Chinese University of Hong Kong and had written screenplays for five years; this year, he directed his first film, "The Thousand Kings vs. The Thousand Tyrants," for Shaw Brothers, earning 5 million in box office and landing in the annual top ten; Shaw Brothers immediately greenlit another film for him, "The King of Thieves," again starring Xie Sige.

Having achieved commercial success in his twenties, plus his father Wang Tianlin's position at TVB, Wang Jing's path in the film industry was smooth sailing.

After watching "A Mistaken Seven Days of Love," and combining his own evaluation with audience reactions, he knew his "The Thousand Kings vs. The Thousand Tyrants" would have to yield its box office ranking—and with Hung Chin-bao's new film coming soon, he feared he'd drop out of the top ten entirely.

And strangely, isn't today Monday? Why are so many schoolkids here?

Sigh, how I wish I had a film this successful—when he got home, he began brainstorming a new script, another urban romantic comedy, with a male lead modeled after Chung Chun-tao.

Other New Wave figures like Xu Ke, Yan Hao, and Zhang Guoming also watched the film; Xu Anhua hadn't seen it—he was in Hainan.

Though some felt it wasn't sufficiently New Wave, having added commercial elements, all agreed the film's box office would be strong and its public reception high.

So how much had it earned?

Xia Meng told Wei Ming over the phone: "The three-day total is about 3. million!"

3. million was nearly enough to recoup costs—everything after was pure profit!

This result matched the opening weekend of "Heroes Born in Youth," and public reception was excellent; urban, emotional, light comedy was now selling better than action films—there was a real chance it might hit ten million.

Also, Xia Meng had confirmed her trip to Hainan to visit "Sailing Into the Wind": "I'm thinking of going the day after tomorrow—want to come with me?"

Since Old Wei wasn't sure when he'd arrive in Hong Kong, Wei Ming declined, preferring to wait for his parents.

Also, he still had a date with Amin after school—but Hong Kong friends knew Wei Ming was here, so he had another lunch appointment: the Wynners' Three Tigers were treating him to a meal.

At the venue, Wei Ming first congratulated Brother B and Chen You on the box office success, then congratulated Ah Lun on winning the Golden Horse Best Actor.

Who could have imagined that a pop idol would be the first Hong Kong actor to win a Golden Horse Best Actor award?

Tan Yonglin looked slightly uneasy: "Will the mainland authorities be upset about me acting in this film?"

His film that just won him the Golden Horse Best Actor was "If I Were True."

The film was intriguing—it adapted the core of Gogol's "The Government Inspector," rewritten by Shanghai theater writers like Sha Yexin based on a real Shanghai case: the original was about impersonating a government inspector; this version was about impersonating a second-generation official.

Because its satire was too sharp, it sparked controversy and was quietly banned shortly after publication.

Eventually, Taiwanese director Wang Tong discovered the script, recruited Hong Kong actor Tan Yonglin, and turned it into a film, which swept the Golden Horse Awards, winning Best Picture, Best Actor, and Best Adapted Screenplay.

Wei Ming only saw this film later online; though its Golden Horse sweep undoubtedly had political factors—it was a film satirizing the mainland—his personal evaluation was that it was absolutely worth watching.

In response to Tan Yonglin's concern, Wei Ming reassured him: "Don't worry—the original play had plenty of official supporters on the mainland. Even if criticized, the blame would fall on the director—you've done good work fundraising, so they won't target you."

Hearing this, Tan Yonglin relaxed—Hong Kong's future was still uncertain, and as a minor artist, he didn't want to offend anyone.

Let's drop those risky topics—Tan Yonglin brought up the upcoming Chinese Top Ten Golden Melodies Awards: "You'll probably attend, right? I can't even imagine how many of the ten songs will be yours."

"When's it being held?" he asked.

"Early January."

Wei Ming shrugged: "I probably won't make it—I'm leaving by month's end, but I hope you all win awards."

He silently added: and Amin.

In the classroom, Zhou Hui-min had just seen a classmate holding the new issue of "Maniac Comics," and several boys were passing it around, whispering excitedly.

She exclaimed: "It's early!" Usually it came out on the 15th.

So at lunch, Zhou Hui-min hurried to the bookstore and bought a copy; she liked most of the comics except "Li Wang."

Then she saw the center color spread promotional comic—she snapped it shut, remembering the awkwardness of that day watching the movie with Amin; the thought made her legs feel warm again.

She overheard the boy in front, admiring the art, whispering to his seatmate: "Let's go see this after school!"

"Great, great~" The two boys looked like thieves, eyes gleaming with excitement.

The art in this comic was truly excellent; Zhou Hui-min objectively evaluated it from an aesthetic standpoint, then noticed the author's name: "Liu Ruyan."

Liu Ruyan? Amin understood—it must be A-Long's pseudonym.

"Unfair! Libel! It has nothing to do with me!"

At lunch in the office, Gong Ying also saw the comic and gave A-Long a wounded look: "Do you think I'm too young?"

A-Long was stunned: "A-Ying, you're four years older than me."

"I mean here!" She pointed to the half-naked woman's chest in the comic, then pointed to her own chest—she was certain Liu Ruyan was A-Long.

A-Long protested his innocence, then finally gave Wei Ming away—after all, it wasn't a big deal; as long as Amin didn't find out, there'd be no problem.

But after learning the truth, Gong Ying began pondering: Did Wei Ming think his sister was too young? And the comic character didn't resemble the film's female lead—especially in body type—then she stared harder, and it began to resemble someone she knew.

"Yes—it's me!"

Without a boss to serve, Li Zhi also bought a copy of "Maniac Comics" to pass the time—and saw Liu Ruyan's comic.

She felt the short-haired, sexy woman in the comic was herself—her face wasn't identical, but her figure was perfectly rendered.

If she wasn't mistaken, Liu Ruyan must be Wei Ming—so that day, he'd been sketching her in the kitchen.

Li Zhi felt flattered, annoyed, and delighted—she still had undeniable appeal to Teacher Wei.

Bored and lonely, she called Wei Ming's hotel room—unfortunately, Teacher Wei wasn't there—but no matter, she could deliver it herself!

She had the hotel name and room number, and Lingling had left her the car.

Meanwhile, Wei Ming's lunch with the Wynners' Three Tigers had ended; they'd mainly discussed last year's hit songs and lamented the Top Ten Golden Melodies organizers.

Last year's music scene had already been thriving, and Wei Ming had given it an extra boost—there were far more than ten truly acclaimed songs.

Then, suddenly inspired, Wei Ming drove straight to Shao Liushu's office at TVB after parting ways.