Chapter 461: The Bold Open It, the Cowardly Walk Away

To let Wei Ming know the news of their award as soon as possible, Zhou Hui min sent him a telegram this time.

Ah Min’s popularity in Hong Kong’s music scene exceeded Wei Ming’s expectations; he knew her records had sold out and was certain her new songs in 1982 were outstanding, but he never imagined the title of Most Popular Female Singer could go to a part-time singer like her.

This honor, combined with Karen Carpenter’s death, seemed to spark in Ah Min a serious desire to pursue music wholeheartedly.

She knew her voice, limited by natural conditions, could not match those powerhouse female singers; even if she perfected technique and emotion, it still fell slightly short in impact.

So she felt the path of a singer-songwriter suited her better, and in this telegram she seriously asked Wei Ming for advice on how to write her own songs.

Wei Ming thought carefully and replied to her.

Just like writing web novels, beginners are best suited to fan fiction—creating secondary works within someone else’s established framework saves a lot of effort, and once you understand the patterns of creation, you can move on to original work.

So Wei Ming’s advice was: “You might as well read more classical poetry and lyrics; their ‘lyrics’ are already ready-made and extremely refined. These classical poems, including the Book of Songs and Han Yuefu, were originally passed down through singing in ancient times, but since there were no phonographs back then, their melodies were not preserved. This is an opportunity for musicians. You mentioned in your letter how Deng Lijun’s ‘Dan Dan You Qing’ deeply moved you—why not emulate it?”

After sending the letter, Wei Ming quickly finished the Chinese version of “Night at the Museum” and submitted it to Xiao Yan shen for review.

Xiao Yan shen took the manuscript straight to her office, but because the publisher called her to a meeting and Zheng Yuanjie was watching over it, he ended up reading it first.

Zheng Yuanjie read it while cursing: Damn, how could someone write this well!

Because “The King of Fairy Tales” featured Wei Ming’s work, Zheng Yuanjie had always been too embarrassed to say his own stories drove sales, too embarrassed to ask for a raise, and never entertained the idea of striking out on his own.

But Lu Xiaoyan had already raised Zheng Yuanjie’s rate to the top tier of ten yuan per thousand characters, the same as Wei Ming’s; further increases would violate regulations, so any extra compensation could only come through salary, year-end bonuses, and employee benefits.

Because he wrote quickly and in large volumes, and sometimes submitted to other publications, Zheng Yuanjie’s monthly income had long surpassed 300 yuan—a very high amount for a young man like him.

After completing the Chinese version of “Museum,” Wei Ming used the family computer to finish another English story and mailed it to Melinda.

For the past two days he had been in seclusion; after emerging, he was supposed to help his parents prepare for the New Year shopping, but Zhao Debiao returned from Tianjin.

Lao Wei waved his hand: “Go play with them—I’ve got your mother and your sister.”

Debiao returned even later than Huang Jiaoyan, and after the New Year, the couple still had to join the production team to complete the remaining scenes.

This filming experience had truly delighted him: he played the male lead and also served as martial arts director; since the crew couldn’t do without him, after finishing his own action scenes he had to coach others, so even though he was in Tianjin, he stayed until just before the New Year to return home.

Upon returning, he immediately met up with Wei Ming and Mei Wenhua, opening with: “I missed you guys so much!”

In Tianjin, Debiao had heard of “Wei Baiman’s” name and proudly pointed to Wei Ming’s name on the newspaper to the crew: “That’s my big brother!”

Even now, recalling the incident still excited him; he found the donations of Hong Kong tycoons unimpressive, but Wei Ming was someone close to him, and one million yuan was an astronomical sum for a mainland Chinese.

Some newspapers even claimed that besides the one million donated to Peking University, Wei Ming had also donated substantial sums to his hometown’s education and infrastructure, effectively donating away everything he had.

But Debiao knew his big brother wasn’t that foolish—he had donated at most half of his personal wealth.

Honestly, Debiao still thought too highly of his big brother.

Including Wei Ming’s overseas assets, he had donated less than one percent.

All three were owners of the wildly profitable “Oriental New World” store; from the scholarship donation, Wei Ming took the opportunity to explain to them the social responsibility of entrepreneurs.

“When you have money later, you can do some charity work—but for now, keep it low-key,” Wei Ming said. He wasn’t low-key because his immense wealth came from writing, not business.

Although last year’s constitution recognized individual economy, businessmen still couldn’t openly flaunt their wealth for several more years; the rites hadn’t collapsed, and music hadn’t decayed yet.

Of the three, Mei Wenhua had the best chance of becoming a proper businessman; he asked: “Big brother, people hate the rich. I’ve been reading the news lately and heard some wealthy households in certain areas are suffering after being reported on.”

“Oh.”

Mei Wenhua said: “As local pioneers of wealth, once their stories are publicized, they first face public envy. Envious people relentlessly find excuses to report them, and local cadres and minor officials also try to squeeze benefits from them.”

Wei Ming nodded, not surprised at all.

So Mei Wenhua couldn’t help asking: “Won’t the conflict between the early rich and the late rich grow even larger? Will anyone truly appreciate donations and good deeds?”

“I believe most people will appreciate it, but there will always be some who won’t—and they’ll say terrible things. But the primary purpose of donating isn’t to make everyone like you,” Wei Ming told him. “First, donating is for your own happiness. Helping others is deeply joyful. For example, someone has a terminal illness and can’t afford treatment; if you give just one day’s income, you save a life and a family. Would you do it?”

“Of course I would!” both replied in unison.

Wei Ming: “Would you be happy after doing it?”

“Such great merit—I’d be overjoyed!” Debiao blurted out. Mei Wenhua nodded in enlightenment.

Wei Ming: “If you approach charity with this mindset, you’ll be much happier. Second, good deeds bring good returns. If you make a name for yourself through charity—say, by building teaching buildings in every university across the country—I’m sure the state will grant you corresponding political status. In our country, political status matters more than money.”

Mei Wenhua nodded deeply in agreement, but he couldn’t imagine how one could donate a building to every university—even Wei Ming couldn’t possibly do that!

That day, Liu Rulong and Li Zhiqing, the comic artist for “The Legend of the Condor Heroes,” left TVB; they had just visited the “Condor Heroes” production team, and Li Zhiqing had drawn comic portraits of the four main actors for promotion in “Maniac Comics.”

The drama would air after the New Year, but it wasn’t finished yet—this was normal in Hong Kong.

“Maniac Comics,” with its high sales and strong fan loyalty, was excellent for promoting entertainment products; this year’s Spring Festival releases, “The New Legend of the Sword and the Sorcerer” and “Project A,” had also been promoted in the magazine.

Action films, xianxia films, and comics go well together, but their rival was “Project A 2,” which made things difficult.

Although “The New Legend of the Sword and the Sorcerer” was directed by Xu Ke, who was one of the Seven Weirdos of Xinyicheng, the film was produced by Shaw Brothers because Xinyicheng’s bosses refused to fund such a costly fantasy epic, while Shaw’s Zou Wenhuai wanted to split Xinyicheng, so he generously invested.

Now “The New Legend of the Sword and the Sorcerer” and “Project A 2” are opening on the same day; although “Project A 2” performed worse than its predecessor, it’s still expected to gross over 20 million.

That result would crush “The New Legend of the Sword and the Sorcerer,” but “Sword and Sorcerer” still has potential for over ten million.

“Project A,” also under Shaw Brothers, will release later; both Shaw films will screen on Shaw’s theater chain, and Shaw’s alliance with Shaw Brothers to counter Xinyicheng is now unmistakable.

Zhou Hui min and Lin Ni had just watched “The New Legend of the Sword and the Sorcerer” and returned home; Lin Ni was boasting about her connections.

“Lin Qingxia? I know her well—if you like, I’ll get you a few signed photos when I go back.”

They thought “The New Legend of the Sword and the Sorcerer” was thrilling and the special effects stunning, but the plot didn’t hold up under scrutiny—it was definitely inferior to “Project A 2” they’d seen yesterday.

“Project A 2” not only nailed the comedy and had a smooth plot, but its special effects were also excellent.

This made Ah Min worry slightly about Ming’s screenplay for “Project A,” but she would support it first and foremost.

They had just returned home when they saw Wei Lingling, who had come to say goodbye to her mother.

“I’m going to the U.S. on business and will head straight to Taiwan for the New Year.”

"You're going on business after Little New Year?" Lin Ni worried about her daughter's overwork. "You don't even have a younger brother—why push yourself so hard?"

Wei Lingling said: “Foreigners don’t celebrate the New Year, and this collaboration is crucial—we’re adding car logos to Transformers. It’s a huge sum of money.”

Given that Transformers’ popularity had spread from North America to Asia and Europe, the auto market saw the toy’s enormous potential.

To cultivate customer loyalty from childhood, American automakers decided to partner with Langning Factory, combining their car logos and designs with Transformers; Wei Lingling’s trip to the U.S. was to hear quotes and choose a suitable partner.

Not only American car brands, but Japanese and European ones would also participate, and she’d also visit her aunt to offer early New Year greetings.