Chapter 47

These people didn't care where Wei Ming came from or where he was going; instead, they asked him questions in a chaotic clamor.

"Can I take a picture of you?"

"It's free."

"Just do me a favor, buddy."

Gu Changwei used his youth and short stature to his advantage, squeezing to the front and being the first to grab Wei Ming's arm.

However, Wei Ming retreated a step with reserve and pointed at the fellow behind the crowd who looked like an old farmer.

"Let him take it for me."

Everyone looked at Zhang Yimou in the back; Zhang Yimou hadn't expected this person to choose him.

They were puzzled: why him, of all people?

Wei Ming: "He's older, so he looks like he has more experience."

Hearing this, Zhang Yimou immediately flashed his signature smile, his face crinkling up; he was 29 at the time, just a sophomore, married with no kids, but he had wrinkles.

Hearing Wei Ming's decision, Gu Changwei took off running; he had to go find Zhou Lijing from the acting department, as that guy's face also had a very "story-filled" look.

Because assignment models couldn't be repeated, this was a case of "he who strikes first wins"; if he went too late, he'd only be left with Zhang Tielin.

Zhang Yimou actually didn't care about the model; in his class, he was the most skilled at photography, and he could make even an ordinary person look brilliant in a photo.

If he didn't have that bit of talent, he wouldn't have been able to go from an auditor to a formal student in the first place, and he was the only one in the class who hadn't entered through the college entrance exam.

"We're from the photography department, shooting an assignment," Zhang Yimou explained first what they were doing, then asked, "My name is Zhang Yimou, what should I call you, classmate?"

"Wei Ming, 'Ming' as in tomorrow," Wei Ming asked, "Can you give me a copy of the photo when it's developed?"

Wei Ming knew a bit about photography and could coax Professor Qu and Sister Chen into exclamations of wonder, but compared to this guy, he was at an elementary school level.

Zhang Yimou readily agreed: "Sure, I'll print an extra copy when the time comes."

Zhang Yimou took Wei Ming to find a willow tree on campus, and Wei Ming asked: "Should I shoot under the tree or in the tree?"

Zhang Yimou: "Why get in the tree? Just lean against it."

Wei Ming: "I've gotten used to being in trees lately."

Zhang Yimou had Wei Ming adjust his posture and expression: "With your temperament, it would be better if you were holding a book." Unfortunately, there wasn't one on hand.

"If you're only shooting my head and neck, I can pretend I'm reading."

"Acting without props, huh? Fine, fine, fine," Zhang Yimou snapped a photo and was very satisfied, "Your sense of belief is very strong. You're not from our school, are you?"

Wei Ming: "No."

Since he said no, Zhang Yimou didn't press him.

"Can I shoot one more set?" He felt quite a connection with Wei Ming.

"Alright then."

"Next, I want you to pretend you're holding a small knife, carving the name of the girl who abandoned you into the tree." Zhang Yimou assigned a prompt, turning up the intensity.

Wei Ming had, after all, spent so many years in the Beijing People's Art Theatre; although he hadn't become an actor, this was still a piece of cake for him. Moreover, he was experienced, and in his thirties, he too had had the experience of giving his heart to the wrong person and being abandoned.

"Ah, not bad, very good, very good!" Zhang Yimou only framed his side profile from the shoulders up, but the look in his eyes and the muscles in his face were very dramatic—even better than the last shot.

To prevent him from wanting to shoot a third set, Wei Ming hurriedly asked: "By the way, I'm here looking for someone. Do you know anyone named Liu Rulong?"

"Don't know him."

"Then do you know where the animation class of the Fine Arts Department has their lessons?"

"I do, but all the students from the Fine Arts Department went to see an exhibition today."

"Ah, an exhibition?"

"Yeah, the '30th Anniversary of the Founding of the Nation National Art Exhibition' at the National Art Museum of China. It seems they just left, so I guess they aren't taking the same road as you." "Thanks, Old Zhang. Just give the photo to Liu Rulong later." After saying this, Wei Ming prepared to make another trip.

Zhang Yimou didn't think about continuing to shoot either; film costs money, developing costs money, and his own pockets were tight. Right now, he was relying on his wife's meager salary back home, so he saved where he could.

However, what Wei Ming never expected was that just as he rode to the gate, he saw a big boy with a slightly round build, medium height, and a pigeon-toed gait pushing his bike back.

"A-Long?"

The dejected Liu Rulong was startled; he looked up and his eyes widened: "A-Ming!"

A-Long met A-Ming on a morning without stars. The two were overjoyed at the school gate, but since they were both pushing bikes, they couldn't get close. So, they parked their bikes and chatted while hooking arms.

"When did you come to Beijing?!" Liu Rulong blurted out in Cantonese in his excitement.

"I came the same time you came to university," Wei Ming laughed, "My uncle found me a job at Peking University."

"Ah, then you're not taking the exam anymore?"

Wei Ming: "Not taking it anymore. I've found another way to live."

Actually, what Liu Rulong worried about most was that his good brother would be completely crushed by failing the college entrance exam three times and never recover.

!

Since he had already found another way to live, Liu Rulong was happy for him.

"By the way, I heard your department all went to see the exhibition. Why did you come back?"

Liu Rulong sighed: "Look, the tire got punctured. Luckily I hadn't ridden far. Usually, there's an old man repairing bikes outside the school, but he didn't set up his stall today."

Wei Ming took a look—good heavens, a brand-new Phoenix-brand bicycle, likely costing quite a bit more than the Flying Pigeon Mei Wenhua had.

"Is this exhibition very important?"

"The '30th Anniversary of the Founding of the Nation National Art Exhibition'—of course it's important. It's the first large-scale art exhibition held since the 'Buzzing'," Liu Rulong said, then added, "But it doesn't matter. It's not like it closes tomorrow. I'll accompany you today."

Wei Ming laughed: "Where you stay is where you stay. Let's go then. Get on, I'll take you."

"Oh my, your bike isn't bad either."

"It's a colleague's."

Once on the bike and out the gate, Liu Rulong looked at his wrist: "We'll take turns riding. It's exactly 10 o'clock now; let's grab a bite to eat over there before seeing the exhibition."

Wei Ming glanced sideways and almost let out a "holy crap."

If he remembered correctly, the watch on Liu Rulong's wrist should be a Rado Swiss watch!

It was the same billboard he had seen in Shanghai, and also the first product to advertise on domestic television. Because of its style, which was vastly different from domestic watches, Wei Ming recognized it at a glance.

This all-gold watch was touted as "never wearing out," and because it was a foreign product, it could sell for around a thousand yuan—several times the price of the top-tier domestic Shanghai-brand watch!

"A-Long, where did you get the watch coupon?"

"Oh, you mean this watch? My dad gave it to me after I got into university."

"And your bicycle?"

"Oh, that was bought. But I didn't use a coupon; my dad sent me money—Hong Kong dollars—and then I exchanged it for overseas remittance coupons and bought it at the Overseas Chinese Store."

Wei Ming knew his dad had faked a divorce to protect the mother and son, and later the two even had a younger sister for A-Long in Hong Kong, but he hadn't expected that Dragon Dad would already be this powerful.

Wei Ming, who had originally wanted to take A-Long to earn some pocket money from "Children's Literature," felt a bit embarrassed to even bring it up.

At this moment, there was a slope ahead, and Wei Ming found it a bit strenuous to ride.

"How about I walk for a bit?" Liu Rulong felt a bit embarrassed; he was 10 centimeters shorter than Wei Ming, but their weight was about the same.

Wei Ming said stubbornly: "Don't bother, sit tight!"

Then Wei Ming started pedaling standing up, pedaling so hard sparks were almost flying.

At the Nanmen of Peking University, Mei Wenhua wasn't volunteering today but was sitting in the guard post on duty. He felt a thumping in his heart; he had a bad premonition, always feeling like something was shattering.

Just then, a phone call came through.

Mei Wenhua: "Hello, this is the Nanmen guard post of Yanjing University. What? What! Alright, alright, alright, we're heading over right now..."

(End of chapter)