Chapter 421: The Celebrity

The Peking University anniversary on May 4th had just ended, and on May 8th came the 80th anniversary celebration of the university library.

Wei Ming attended as a library staff member and was praised by Director Xie Dao, which made him embarrassed—he was just likable and diligent, far from outstanding in duty, but fortunately, expectations of him were low.

Right after the event ended, a young man named Ding Wu rushed up to Wei Ming.

After several days of spread, the song "Goodbye" had reached every major university in Yanjing; Ding Wu was a recent graduate of the Yanjing Academy of Arts and Crafts, loved the song, and came specially to find Wei Ming—it wasn't his first visit, but due to Wei Ming's high absence rate, this was the first time he'd actually seen him.

"Teacher Wei, I've finally met the real deal!"

This future lead singer of Black Panther and Tang Dynasty bands, one of the foundational figures of Chinese rock, faced Wei Ming like a fan—he studied art and played rock, so he should've been cool and aloof, but before Wei Ming he smiled warmly, speaking with caution.

"You want to sing 'Goodbye'? Then sing it."

"Teacher Wei, it's not just singing—we might record an album and perform too. I've decided: with two months left before graduation, we'll make this song known across all Chinese universities, not just Yanjing—we're going to Tianjin, even to the Magic City!"

At this time, recording and releasing songs brought little profit—mostly just fame, useful for dating and forming bands later—and Wei Ming knew Ding Wu's talent well; he'd listened to "Dreaming Back to Tang" countless times.

Besides, the song was naturally suited for a band, and drums were essential, so Wei Ming agreed to let Ding Wu's Locust Band perform "Goodbye," as long as they didn't claim to be the sole original performers.

"Just give the song back to me when your band breaks up." Wei Ming knew their band wouldn't last long, and he didn't sign a contract—signing wouldn't earn them money anyway.

"Don't worry, Teacher Wei, my guys and I won't break up—thank you so much!" Ding Wu was overjoyed.

But Wei Ming let the rockers' promise to never split drift out his right ear—he'd seen Ding Wu join at least four bands before finally settling with Tang Dynasty.

Next, Wei Ming listened as Ding Wu explained the current rock scene in Yanjing.

At Beijing Foreign Studies University, there was a band called "Wanli Ma Wang," named after the surnames of its four founders, mainly covering Beatles and Bee Gees songs.

Last year, several students from the China Conservatory of Music formed the Aris Band, primarily covering Japanese rock songs.

"Our Locust Band is the first to make Chinese rock!" Ding Wu boasted.

"Wow, that's amazing—go for it! Hope you explode like thunder out of nowhere."

After seeing Ding Wu off, Wei Ming rode his motorcycle to the outskirts of the Forbidden City, bought a ticket, entered, and found the set of "The Empress Dowager," filming in the inner palace.

Their production was titled "The Empress Dowager," later to be edited into two films; what they were shooting now was still "The Burning of the Old Summer Palace."

At this point, the Anglo-French forces hadn't yet breached the city; Yehe Nara had just entered the palace and was in the early stage of cultivating affection with Emperor Vanguard Commander.

When Wei Ming arrived on set, staff from Beijing Film Studio recognized him and brought him inside to observe—tourists weren't allowed here.

Liu Xiaoqing's acting spoke for itself—years of rigorous refinement; Liang Jiahui, though younger and without prior leading roles, and with a language gap from mainland actors that made dialogue feel like chickens talking to ducks, still managed passably.

Wei Ming knew his talent—his progress in a single film was enormous; by the latter half, during the "Empress Dowager" portion, he was clearly better than in "The Burning of the Old Summer Palace," and became the youngest Best Actor in Golden Horse history.

Li Hanxiang had noticed Wei Ming's arrival long ago but said nothing until after the scene finished.

Wei Ming: "I just came to see if the script needs any adjustments."

Also, to check on Liu Xiaoqing—she'd recently been swarmed by rumors, sparking huge controversy, but after watching the lead actors' scenes, he saw no issue.

Li Hanxiang said: "No, but the lead actress will take leave soon—we'll focus on shooting her scenes."

"Why take leave?"

"She says she's going to Xi'an for the Golden Rooster and Hundred Flowers Awards ceremony."

"Oh." Wei Ming exhaled in relief—he'd feared Liu Xiaoqing was about to ditch the director.

After filming, Liang Jiahui hopped onto Wei Ming's old 28-inch bicycle: "Ah Ming, you're here? I'm going out to eat—come with me, my treat."

Liu Xiaoqing immediately said: "Just him?"

Liang Jiahui quickly added: "All of you, come along—Zi, you too."

So the young group left the Forbidden City; Wei Ming observed Liu Xiaoqing's expression—calm as ever, truly strong inside.

Recently, rumors had spread about Liu Xiaoqing's film "Wild Field" from last year: some claimed it had both international and domestic versions, with the domestic version allegedly failing censorship, and the international version even more scandalous—saying Liu Xiaoqing performed nude.

Since "Love in Lushan," kissing scenes were no longer taboo, but nudity might still take years to become normal in the arts.

The rumor had even appeared in some official newspapers; Wei Ming had read it in the Peking University Library and came to check her mental state.

But now, Liu Xiaoqing seemed unfazed, even enjoying free meals—Liang Jiahui ate meat every meal, something even this top mainland star couldn't match.

While eating Liang Jiahui's food, she patted her chest and declared that if Ah Hui ever failed in Hong Kong, he could come to Beijing Film Studio and rely on her.

Also dining with them was a simple-minded young man, Zhang Fengyi, who, thanks to "Rickshaw Boy," already held a place in China's film industry despite still being in college; among the four, he felt he had the lowest status and narrowest knowledge.

Hearing Liu Xiaoqing say that, he asked puzzled: "But Ah Hui's first film was as the male lead under Director Li Hanxiang—how could he possibly fail in Hong Kong?"

Liu Xiaoqing, who'd just boasted, felt uneasy: "I meant 'if,' but that possibility is tiny."

Wei Ming smiled: "Wrong—not a small possibility, but a very high one—he likely has no future in Hong Kong's entertainment circle."

"Why?" Liu Xiaoqing and Zhang Fengyi asked in unison.

Wei Ming looked at Liang Jiahui: "Do you know why?"

Liang Jiahui nodded: "I know—but I'm not afraid. I'm Hong Konger, I'm Chinese—why shouldn't I film in mainland China?"

Seeing their confusion, Wei Ming explained the intimidation of the phrase "Free Association" in Hong Kong; both were stunned—Taiwan really was outrageous.

Liang Jiahui laughed: "If I can't make it in Hong Kong, I'll come to Teacher Wei—I'm sure you won't let me starve."

Wei Ming smiled: "Sure, you've got magazine experience—I can get you into 'Madman Comics.'"

Liu Xiaoqing chuckled, masking her embarrassment from her earlier boast.

But soon she was even more embarrassed: days later, the Golden Rooster and Hundred Flowers Awards sent invitations for the upcoming ceremony; Gong Ying and Zhu Lin both received notices, meaning they'd both been nominated—even Xi Zi was invited; her uncle and aunt were too busy, so Wei Ming was to take Xi Zi to Xi'an.

Wei Ming was invited too.

This meant Liu Xiaoqing, with two major works last year—"The Mysterious Buddha" and "Xu Mao and His Daughters"—received no nominations at all, and worse, she'd already taken leave early; it made her furious.

She didn't know if the rumors were to blame, but she'd already considered writing an autobiography to clear her name.

It was time to clarify—Gong Ying and Zhu Lin were already discussing the gossip together.

"Do you really think Liu Xiaoqing filmed a nude scene?" Gong Ying found it unbelievable—even kissing on screen was hard for her to accept.

Zhu Lin: "It must be true—the newspapers said so."

In this era, people still deeply trusted newspapers and TV—hence the panic-buying frenzy after Shanghai TV aired an ad for Gui Gui Yang Rong Wine; now, people believed anything, the golden age of advertising.

Gong Ying sighed: "Liu Xiaoqing really sacrifices for art—I'm nowhere near her."