Chapter 403: From Hong Kong to Los Angeles

Wei Ming drove, Lin Zhengyi sat in the back, Old Liu sat in the front passenger seat holding Wei Ming's backpack, then spotted a small item sticking out of the side pocket.

"What's this? Made in Japan?"

"Just consider it a tiny tape player—for listening to music. Try it," Wei Ming said; it was his Walkman, which he always carried when traveling, easier than reading on the road.

Good habits are forced by real-life conditions—who reads when they can listen to music, who listens to music when they can scroll short videos?

Wei Ming showed him how, and Old Liu put on the headphones and heard the sound: "Why's it all foreign language? Boring, boring."

Lin Zhengyi in the back said, "Maybe it's to know yourself and know your enemy?"

Wei Ming chuckled, "You've got it right, Brother Yifu. This trip to America for the awards, I need to understand their music style. Master, rummage through the bag—you'll find tapes from Taiwan and Hong Kong."

"Oh my, Deng Lijun! You've got guts, kid!" Old Liu tore off the cassette cover, slipped it in, and began listening, occasionally offering commentary.

Hearing Deng Lijun, Lin Zhengyi paused slightly; when they reached the airport waiting for the flight, he noticed Wei Ming wasn't using the Walkman, so he finally spoke up.

"Teacher Wei, may I listen to your Walkman?"

"Oh, go ahead," Wei Ming said, picking up a newspaper—he read about how the film "Shaolin Temple" had sparked nationwide interest and boosted incense offerings at Songshan Shaolin Temple, and also saw reports on Director Yang Jie and her crew.

Lin Zhengyi heard Deng Lijun's familiar voice again—it seemed to be a new song, one he'd never heard before.

He'd met Deng Lijun himself; when she visited Jinmen to boost troop morale, they'd shaken hands.

His wife also loved Deng Lijun's songs; hearing her voice made him miss his family even more.

Once in America, things would be better—he couldn't return home, and his wife and children couldn't come over, but in America, it would be fine; he'd just transition and bring them back to Yanjing later.

"Brother Yifu, your accent sounds like it's from Fujian."

Before boarding, Lin Yifu returned the Walkman to Wei Ming, and Wei Ming chatted with him.

"Yeah, sort of. I really like your song 'Only by Striving Can We Win.'" He volunteered to carry Wei Ming's luggage; in his eyes, Wei Ming was a frail scholar, while he himself was military-trained—he saw himself as an unofficial bodyguard for Teacher Wei.

If economics didn't work out, he still knew a bit about fists and firearms.

Their seats were side by side; the plane would first fly to Shanghai, make a short stop, then fly to Hong Kong, where they'd switch planes with a longer layover, then fly directly to Los Angeles.

Wei Ming had known the exact schedule in advance and sent a telegram to ask Ah Long to inform his parents they could meet at the airport's Holiland store.

On the plane, Wei Ming began discussing mainland China's economic development with Old Lin; he'd read Wei Ming's "Days of Sunshine," where Wei Ming predicted the emergence of the dual-track system and the elite class in the novel's ending.

But Lin Zhengyi was more optimistic than Wei Ming, a native of the mainland, and held the opposite view—he believed the authorities would handle it properly.

Still, both agreed on the overall trend of China's economic development: they both expected rapid improvement in material living standards after reform and opening-up.

In Shanghai, some passengers disembarked, others boarded, including a few foreign faces.

By afternoon, the plane landed at Hong Kong's Kai Tak Airport; Wei Ming and Lin Zhengyi got off, with a five-hour layover.

Wei Ming told Lin Zhengyi, "My parents work in Hong Kong—we'll meet up soon. Where are you planning to go?"

"Your parents work in Hong Kong?"

Wei Ming: "My father's a temporary worker at North Animation. He and my mother were assigned to Hong Kong to deliver giant pandas—they'll have to help care for them for a while after delivery."

"Oh, where will you meet?" he asked responsibly.

"Inside the airport—right at the Holiland fast-food counter in the terminal. It's my friend's family business. Want to come try it?"

Lin Zhengyi shook his head with a smile: "I just ate, not hungry. I'll wait for you right here in the terminal."

They entered the terminal; Lin Zhengyi picked a seat with a clear view of Holiland and watched Wei Ming go inside.

When Wei Ming walked in, he found Zhou Huimin sitting in a window corner, a few snacks and a stack of textbooks and homework on the table.

He walked up, delighted: "Did Ah Long tell you I'd be here?"

"You finally came!" Huimin nearly lunged at him, then shook her head. "Uncle and Auntie told me, but they're still working this afternoon, so I came early."

"How early?"

"I came at noon—it's the weekend, no class anyway." Wei Ming ruffled the little girl's curly hair.

Wei Ming: "I'm leaving in four and a half hours."

"That's such a pity—I really want to go to America with you, but I've got class tomorrow."

"Even if you didn't have class, you couldn't come," Wei Ming pointed out the window. "Don't look—just know this: out of high priority, the state sent Zhongnanhai bodyguards to protect me. It wouldn't be convenient for you to tag along."

"Whoa, Zhongnanhai bodyguards? Are they all masters like Li Lianjie?"

"Oh, you know Li Lianjie? I thought you'd say Cheng Long."

"Li Lianjie's huge now—'Shaolin Temple' made 15 million at the box office! Almost all my classmates have seen it!"

As for Cheng Long's "Dragon Boy," it's still struggling to hit 10 million; Jiahe gave its theaters a direct order: Cheng Long's films must not fall below 10 million.

Wei Ming chuckled: "Little Li really suits the Zhongnanhai bodyguard role, but he's still a bit green. Let's not talk about him—tell me what's new at your school. Maybe I can write it into 'Happy Ghost.'"

"The biggest new thing is everyone's playing blind boxes—not just our school, but others too. I bet Linggu is making a fortune!"

"I wonder if she'll show up too—I'd really like to hear how much she's earned." Wei Ming mused; the blind boxes might actually pair well with Zhu the Scholar's ghost abilities—could be promising.

"Does an aunt need to report her earnings to her nephew?" Huimin giggled.

"Of course she does—I own half the toy factory."

"Ah!?"

"Shh—I only told you."

Huimin quickly covered her mouth, feeling the happiness of being trusted by her crush.

A while later, Old Wei and Xu Shufen arrived; Huimin moved to sit beside Wei Ming, facing Old Wei and his wife, and ordered food for them.

When you don't see your son, you miss him; when you do, it's just… so-so—this son is just too easy to manage.

Wei Ming mainly asked when they planned to return to Beijing.

Xu Shufen, ever obedient to her husband, complained: "Your father's having too much fun—he's been blinded by capitalism."

Wei Ming was surprised: "Dad, you don't want to go back?"

"Who says I don't? I just can't bear to leave Grandpa, or Gangdan and Basi." Of course, he also couldn't bear the society where money bought almost everything, the ease of driving around shopping, the rich cultural and entertainment life—all unmatched on the mainland.

Of course, there are downsides here too—because his Cantonese is poor, sometimes service staff are rude when eating or shopping, but overall, they're still far more polite than the clerks at state-run stores and restaurants.

Wei Ming said: "Once Xiao Hong graduates next year, I'll definitely follow her abroad for studies. When we're both gone, whether you return or stay doesn't really matter."

"What? Xiao Hong's going abroad next year? Isn't she only in her third year?"

"Don't you know how fast she learns? She'll graduate early and go abroad—three years is plenty."

Plus, Wei Ming's correspondence course ends this year—he can smoothly go to America to upgrade his credentials and avoid the turbulence of 1983—perfect for both.

Hearing this, Xu Shufen's desire to return home faded a little—though she'd still prefer if Ocean Park let them visit the mainland for holidays, even if they paid for the tickets themselves.