Chapter 439: The Young Mistress

With ATV’s current advertising revenue, two or three minutes of ad time in a single program wasn’t much; he understood sponsorship meant simply adding a brand name at the start—nothing significant.

If this was truly a great idea that could slightly turn the tide against TVB, Qiu Degen felt he wouldn’t lose out.

“But since you asked suddenly, I haven’t prepared anything. How about this—I’ll finish my current drama, then draft a detailed proposal for you before we discuss partnership details.”

“Fine, I’ll wait for your good news.”

That night, Wei Ming told Lao Gui about the program sponsorship and advertising: if this show lasted three years and aired passionately every weekend, it would be enough to make Haoli Lai a national fast-food brand in Hong Kong.

“Oh no, we’ve got to rush and shoot the ads then!” Lao Gui didn’t worry whether Wei Ming’s idea would impress Qiu Degen—he immediately started fretting about the ads, having long wanted to make TV commercials, though they were expensive.

“Why not let Amin star in the ad? She’s already the heiress of Haoli Lai—she can endorse her own brand,” Lin Ni added.

If you considered the shares Lao Gui had given Wei Ming, Zhou Ma was actually Haoli Lai’s largest shareholder, owning forty percent, while Lao Gui and Wei Ming together held fifty percent.

Wei Ming shook his head: “Amin hates being in the spotlight—find someone else. But I can help you shoot the ads myself and save a fortune—I can film several in the gaps between my drama shoots.”

Lao Gui didn’t bother being polite with Wei Ming—after all, Haoli Lai was his own business too.

Wei Ming added: “If this actually works, remember to rotate the ads regularly with fresh, creative ones—otherwise viewers will grow tired and even develop aversion to the product.”

“I know—I’ll hire a professional ad agency when the time comes.”

“Hmm, you could hire Huang Zhan,” Wei Ming recommended.

Huang Zhan wasn’t just brilliant at writing songs—he was a master of ads; his line “When Rémy Martin opens, good things naturally follow” made Rémy Martin Hong Kong’s most prestigious brand of foreign liquor.

He even helped the American cosmetics brand Revlon enter the Chinese market by naming it “Lu Hua Nong”—instantly elevating a budget brand to one radiating class.

A few years ago, Huang Zhan and his girlfriend Lin Yanni co-founded an ad agency called “Huang & Lin,” which quickly rose to become Hong Kong’s seventh-largest ad company.

The next day, Amin went out as usual with Xiao Hong; over recent days, the Hang Seng Index had been falling steadily, and they’d made good profits. Wei Hong had been thinking more deeply about the stock market and planned to make some moves on a specific stock today.

Wei Ming, during a break from filming, told Li Zhi about the Lanning Toy Factory ad.

“Transformers need promotion in Hong Kong—you can run ads on ATV.”

“Ads? Brother Amin, do you need actors? I’ve done ads before.”

At some point, Li Jiaxin suddenly appeared behind Wei Ming and Li Zhi, volunteering herself.

She had indeed done ads, and thanks to her good looks, she’d improved her family’s living conditions before officially debuting as Miss Hong Kong.

Wei Ming smiled: “Alright, I’ll call you then.”

Wei Teacher didn’t want to admit he was a good person, but he was genuinely kind—he’d never deliberately take advantage of Li Jiaxin by hiring her for the ad.

But Li Zhi sounded the alarm, fearing Li Jiaxin might try to take advantage of Wei Ming.

Where was Zhou Hui? Why hadn’t that girl shown up lately?

If she were here, at least she’d make Li Jiaxin behave!

She’d never wished so desperately for Zhou Hui to be by her side—luckily, filming at Chongqing Building was only three days, and tomorrow was the last day.

Today’s shoot ended early; Wei Ming didn’t linger outside but returned home planning to take Amin shopping and to the movies—only to find the whole family, including the Zhou household, preparing to go out together.

He asked what they were doing.

Wei Hong said: “We’re going to the movies. I passed the cinema today and saw that ‘North China Air-Land-Sea Exercise’ is screening in Hong Kong—I told Grandpa, and he invited everyone to watch.”

Lin Ni grumbled: “Even if you don’t want to go, you can’t refuse—he insists on giving us ideological education.”

Wei Ming and Xiao Hong had already been educated in Beijing—it was a documentary based on last September’s military exercise involving a hundred thousand troops in Zhangjiakou, broadcast that same year; now it was finally reaching Hong Kong, shown on left-wing cinema circuits.

“It’s worth watching—look at this now, then look again decades later at new military exercises, and you’ll see how clearly the country has progressed.” Wei Ming joined them, letting Amin ride in his car.

Actually, the left-wing cinemas had decent attendance for this film; though a documentary, with rumors swirling that the British Hong Kong government was negotiating Hong Kong’s return to the mainland, ordinary people wanted to see just how strong the mainland had become.

Hadn’t Britain just won the Falklands War? If Britain didn’t intend to return Hong Kong, and negotiations failed, would China and Britain go to war?

So even people not sympathetic to the mainland were watching—like Ni Kuang.

After watching, even his son Ni Zhen, who’d come back to Hong Kong for summer vacation, noticed his father seemed unusually moved.

In Hong Kong, this documentary was titled ‘North China Air-Land-Sea Exercise’; on the mainland, it was called ‘Iron Great Wall’!

When hundreds of thousands appeared on screen, when their resolute expressions filled the frame, when tanks and planes slowly rolled and swiftly glided past, anyone with thoughts of resistance changed their mind.

Re-watching this film, Wei Ming wondered: was the mainland using it to subtly pressure Hong Kong?

Having spent recent days with Wei Hong in the stock market, knowing the real reasons behind the market’s decline, Amin wondered—if Hong Kong’s return brought economic recession, and many families went bankrupt from stock trading, could that really be a good thing?

Today, seeing those soldiers, those weapons, Amin felt a tangible sense of security—if China had possessed such military strength back then, perhaps her grandparents and great-grandparents wouldn’t have fled their homeland, and Hong Kong wouldn’t have been lost.

When they left the cinema and returned home, cooling off in the neighborhood courtyard, Amin told Wei Ming how her thoughts had changed these past days—he smiled and patted her head.

“Your awareness is rising—back on the mainland, you’d definitely be a Communist Youth League member by now.”

Amin grinned: “So will they give me a red scarf?”

“You even know about that?”

“Of course I do.” She beamed proudly.

Wei Ming said: “Over the past thirty years, the state has poured immense effort into building this sense of security—investing heavily in strengthening it. That’s why Jin Yong didn’t understand why atomic bombs mattered more than pants—it was all from decades of being bullied, a kind of ‘insufficient firepower fear.’ But that won’t happen again; future investment in economy and livelihood will increase.”

Amin listened intently, and Wei Ming added: “Also, reunification will bring another clear benefit—the triads will vanish from Hong Kong.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. When the army steps onto the island, all ghosts and demons will be swept clean.”

“That’s wonderful!” Amin laughed. “I hate those gangsters—I never dared go out alone at night.”

Wei Ming thought: you wouldn’t dare go out alone in Beijing or Shanghai either.

But in two years, things would improve much more. Though Wei Ming feared 1983, he also longed for it to arrive—he loved walking freely on the streets without fear.

Watching this documentary, the one most deeply moved was surely Lao Gui—he was a veteran who’d lived through the Anti-Japanese War, the Liberation War, and the Korean War; especially during those two years on the Korean battlefield, he knew better than anyone how vast the gap was between Chinese and American weaponry.

That enormous gap cost the lives of countless comrades—he often woke in tears, haunted by the horrors of those two years.

But now we have our own planes, tanks, artillery, and nuclear weapons—the country’s strength has grown, and in the future, even more advanced weapons will give soldiers and civilians greater security!

Insufficient firepower fear will become history forever!

Then came another piece of good news: Liao Gong wrote an open letter to Comrade Nicholas, appealing to him as a childhood friend and classmate—there seemed to be a glimmer of thaw between the two sides.

When the Wei brothers in Hong Kong and Taiwan read the news, both were moved to tears—they finally saw the possibility of returning to their homeland in their lifetime.

Especially Wei Muchun—he, as an elder, had learned Nicholas’s true reaction to the letter and knew hope was within reach; he must live longer, must cherish his health.

From today on—he would quit drinking!

Old Wei back in Gouzitun felt none of the two elders’ joy or sorrow—he’d just finished escorting all the village’s college entrance exam candidates; the three-day mission had gone smoothly.

Thanks to him, the students ate well and rested well; he’d taught them to follow Wei Ming’s example: “Worry before the world worries, rejoice after the world rejoices.” Guess what? The college entrance exam essay topic was exactly that!

The students praised Old Wei for predicting the topic—five of them used Wei Ming as evidence in their essays.

Before returning home, Old Wei was stopped by reporters from the provincial capital, who wanted to photograph and interview him.

It was County Magistrate Qin who leaked the story—the reporters were from the Hebei Daily; now Old Wei would become famous on his own, far outshining his son.

He chatted nonstop with the reporters, giving them rich material; that same day, on the train back to the provincial capital, they wrote an article titled ‘Father and Son on the Frontline: The Philanthropic Journey of Wei Ming’s Father!’—not a single mention of “Liberation.”

When he returned to the village, the final exam results were out; Old Wei personally presided over the award ceremony, handing out not just scholarships but generous prizes.

This year, Qi Delong entered the top three in his class for the first time, earning a study trip through merit alone.

“This time we’re planning a trip to Shanghai—but I’m heading back to Hong Kong soon, so you’ll have to wait. When Teacher Wei Ming returns from Hong Kong, he’ll arrange it. So don’t wander far this summer—if you can’t find anyone, we’ll replace you with the next in rank.”

He feared that if he didn’t return to Hong Kong soon, his son might come back too.

So the next day, he departed for Beijing, preparing to head to Hong Kong again.

In Hong Kong, Wei Ming had finished filming his scenes at Chongqing Building; that night, he knocked on Li Jiaxin’s door—her mother opened it.

Li Jiaxin rushed out from behind: “Brother Amin.”

Wei Ming smiled: “We’re going to shoot the ad tonight—let’s go.”

“Great! Great!”

“It’s so late,” Li’s mother frowned.