Chapter 452

Although this novel didn’t need translation, the editor still had to revise the manuscript, and choosing the illustrator was crucial—there was no way Wei Ming’s second English work would be seen before year’s end.

Melinda sighed—why couldn’t he just write pure fiction and spare himself the trouble? But this story was truly brilliant!

She recalled taking Wei Ming to the British Museum for the first time—back then, he must’ve already had this idea.

Besides replying to letters and sending Wei Hong to mail the new manuscript to Melinda, Wei Ming also sent some photos from the filming set back to Xiao Hong.

They included personal photos and group shots, beautiful natural scenery from Ya’an, and a rare candid shot of a wild giant panda mother with her cub.

Wei Ming was very keen on documenting these moments, and since the crew had two cameras, he’d have Chen Kaige film behind-the-scenes footage of the “Shepherd’s Class” production while he was shooting.

Even the film stock used for behind-the-scenes footage was imported, deliberately training Zhang Yimou and Chen Kaige—they might even make a documentary someday.

Spending his own money however he liked, and actually spending it—that feeling was wonderful; Wei Ming loved the co-production model.

But the imported film stock Li Zhi sent from Hong Kong cost Hong Kong dollars; Wei Ming still hoped to attend Cannes next year and sell the overseas rights for a good price, then use the profits to buy low in Hong Kong’s stock and property markets.

Wei Hong saw the photos her brother sent and thought—what’s the point of sending these to me? Shouldn’t you be sending them to A Min?

So she picked a few and mailed them to A Min in Hong Kong—it was already November by the time they arrived.

On the weekend, Zhou Hui Min finally had time to have dinner with her new friend, Anita Mui.

She now preferred socializing with friends older than herself, hoping to keep up with A Ming’s thinking and avoid appearing childish.

Though only two of them, they still requested a private room to avoid being recognized by fans.

Of course, the main reason was Zhou Hui Min’s trouble—Anita Mui was fine; champions didn’t draw as much heat as eliminated contestants.

Last month, both their albums were released nearly simultaneously; Zhou Hui Min’s was her first full album, featuring all of Wei Ming’s old songs except “My Favorite,” and among the new tracks was “I Like You,” co-written by Hui and Wong—equally popular, matching “My Favorite.”

Now nearly a month after release, sales reached 180,000 copies, heading straight for quadruple platinum—this was just Hong Kong sales; because the album included Mandarin songs, it performed strongly in Taiwan too, possibly even outselling Hong Kong.

This result already surpassed Tan Yonglin and Zhang Guorong’s personal bests, now chasing Xu Xiaofeng and Zhen Ni.

Zhou Hui Min’s fans felt they rarely saw A Min on TV or at events, so buying albums was their only way to show love—and the album cover was her stunning photo anyway.

A Min still listened to her mother, keeping her exposure extremely low, unlike Anita Mui, a full-time singer; getting dinner with A Min now was a rare steal of free time.

Honestly, Anita Mui couldn’t help but envy A Min’s success—same Hui-Wong collaboration, they wrote her “Heart Debt,” the theme song for the hit TV drama “Hong Kong Wanderer,” but this six-song mini-album sold under 25,000 copies, failing to reach gold record status.

The gap was simply too wide.

Of course, “I Like You” wouldn’t suit her voice as well as A Min’s; Anita Mui felt she still needed to find her own style and identity.

“Wow, this is delicious!” Anita Mui exclaimed after tasting the drink A Min brought.

A Min smiled: “It’s my mom’s newly developed QQneinei Delicious Mochi Tea.”

Anita Mui was baffled—what on earth had she just heard?

A Min laughed: “Actually, the name was given by A Ming—don’t worry about it.”

Anita Mui envied A Min’s relationship with her boyfriend; unlike herself, after becoming famous, her relationship with her boyfriend had grown distant, barely communicating anymore.

“Is this available at Roland?” Anita Mui asked.

“Not yet—but drink less anyway; it’s high in sugar, makes you gain weight,” A Min sipped and warned.

She only drank it occasionally; achieving her current figure took tremendous effort—she didn’t want to turn back into Fatty An.

She loved the feeling of A Ming caressing her slender, fair legs.

Sipping milk tea and eating, they talked about upcoming work plans.

“Are you planning another album next?” Anita Mui smiled. “Next time I want to space mine out—otherwise I’ll look too pathetic.”

Zhou Hui Min: “Probably not. My most important task now is getting a grade my mom will be satisfied with on my final exams—otherwise no shows at all.”

She still hoped to participate in the Top Ten Chinese Gold Songs and Top Ten Golden Songs Awards—if she won, it would be a joint honor for her and A Ming.

Anita Mui’s eyes were full of envy—what a wonderful mother; hers only asked how much money she’d made and whether she’d handed it all over for household expenses.

“Actually, I’m studying too—my company wants me to learn Japanese, but it’s incredibly hard.”

“Japanese? I know a bit,” A Min said seriously—she’d listened to many Japanese songs. “Is Huaxing planning to send you to Japan?”

“Maybe—they’re thinking about it. The market there is huge; who wouldn’t want to be Deng Lijun?” Anita Mui said. The European and American market was unthinkable—there was no precedent—but Deng Lijun had already paved a path in Japan.

Yet Deng Lijun’s dazzling success in Japan now seemed insignificant compared to what it would become in a few years.

Anita Mui added: “Also, my company’s already preparing my new album—this time they plan to cover established Japanese songs.”

Hong Kong’s music scene had no shortage of lyricists, but composers clearly lagged behind in both quantity and quality.

Importing music from Japan’s thriving scene had become a lazy but unavoidable tactic.

Li Xiaotian thought: Japan’s decades of musical accumulation should be enough to defeat A Min’s behind-the-scenes A Ming.

And this time, Huaxing targeted Yamaguchi Yoshiko’s classic “Red Doubt,” the theme song of “Blood Relation.”

More than half of Anita Mui’s new album might consist of old Japanese songs.

After returning home, Zhou Hui Min received a package from Wei Hong and read her letter.

Red Sister wrote: “I’ve sent your new album—I’ve heard it, and so has my brother. Also sending you a few of his photos—anything you want to give him, just pass it to me.”

Zhou Hui Min carefully examined every photo of Wei Ming—the man working hard looked so handsome; some were actually taken by Feng Xiaogang, with extremely flattering angles, many low-angle shots.

A Min thought a moment, then mailed the latest issue of “Maniac Comics,” along with a few of her own photos and a copy of the popular romance novel “My First Half of Life,” by Yi Shu.

Recently Yi Shu had praised “The Most Distant Distance,” so A Min bought her new book.

Finally, a Rolex watch—since their birthdays were coming up.

The issue of “Maniac Comics” A Min mailed was historically significant—it was the first weekly issue.

Starting Monday, November 1, “Maniac Comics” officially became a weekly publication, released every Monday, with a discounted price of one dollar less during the promotion.

The promotion lasts until Chinese New Year!

That means this month, five issues of “Maniac Comics” will be available—normally only two!

This news dropped like a bomb in Hong Kong’s comics industry.

It caused massive impact among readers and huge shockwaves among competitors.

Huang Yulang had already guessed that weekly comics were Liu Rulong’s next move, so he wanted to get ahead of Liu Rulong and make “Yulang Comics” the first—so he even spent heavily importing Japanese manga to strengthen his own lineup.

He’d brought in Japanese manga years earlier than in the original timeline.

But Huang Yulang still lost—he’d been misled by Liu Rulong, who seemed to be preparing all along for the Spring Festival relaunch.

So Huang Yulang planned his own relaunch for New Year’s Day, unveiling a major new work: “Chinese Hero.”

But Liu Rulong moved even earlier—launching in November.

This relaunch of “Maniac Comics” lowered prices without reducing volume—page count unchanged, and three new comics added, one concluded.

The concluded comic was “School’s Out,” not because of poor sales, but because the humor genre had drained cartoonist Gan Xiaowen too severely—he could manage biweekly releases, but weekly was unsustainable, so they decided to pause temporarily and relaunch as a sequel after accumulating more material.

The three new comics were no small matter.

First: Jin Yong’s authorized “The Legend of the Condor Heroes,” illustrated by Li Zhiqing—coinciding with TVB’s current adaptation of “The Legend of the Condor Heroes,” with joint promotional efforts.

Second: Wei Ming’s global hit sci-fi epic “District 9,” illustrated by newcomer cartoonist Shao William.

Third: “Dragon Ball,” the two founding creators of “Maniac Comics”—Wei Ming as editor-in-chief, Liu Rulong as lead artist.

With page count unchanged but three new comics added and only one removed, each serialized comic’s page allocation inevitably decreased, causing some readers to complain—“I barely got into it, and it’s already over.”

Not satisfying enough.

“So thrilling! So awesome!” Super comic fan and diehard “Maniac Comics” collector Zheng Yijian had just finished reading the latest “Feng Yun” installment.

After a year of serialization, as Ma Rongcheng’s personal style matured, his art improved, and the conflict between Feng Yun and Xiong Nu intensified, “Feng Yun” became increasingly compelling—Zheng Yijian’s favorite comic, with “Qin Shi Ming Yue” ranking second.

He immediately turned to “Qin Shi Ming Yue”—this issue’s cover featured “Dragon Ball,” so he already knew it was Liu Rulong’s new work, and couldn’t help worrying Liu Rulong might be distracted, leading to “Qin Shi Ming Yue” being abandoned.

Opening “Qin Shi Ming Yue,” he first glanced at the lead artist: “Liu Rulong & Long Aotian”—oh? Two lead artists!