Chapter 484

Wei Hong did not quite understand the status and standing of this old foreign man. When Wei Ming explained to her that he was "equivalent to Mr. Cao Yu in the American theater world," she understood; this was a big shot.

After completing the localization and directing work for *Death of a Salesman*, Arthur Miller had to return to New York. This flight route was Yanjing → Shanghai → San Francisco → New York.

Although Miller had not produced any masterpieces for many years, the few plays he created during his golden period were enough to sustain him for a lifetime. Now, a New York film company wanted to remake *Death of a Salesman* and had already locked in Dustin Hoffman for the lead role, so he had to go back to revise the script.

"So we're on the same flight!" Arthur Miller shook his boarding pass. "That's great; the journey won't be boring."

Perhaps because Wei Ming had brought glory to his country, he had successfully applied for first-class this time. It was equivalent to first-class, certainly not as luxurious as in later generations, but the seats were wider, the armrests were adjustable, and the flight attendants' service was more attentive.

For a long-haul flight of over ten hours, first-class was indeed the reward a hedonist like Wei Ming wanted most.

This kind of first-class was like a soft sleeper on a train; you couldn't buy it even with money unless you had reached a certain rank or were a foreign friend.

After boarding the plane, the seats for Wei Ming, Wei Hong, and Arthur Miller were not together. However, the passenger in the seat next to them was an American backpacker who had heard of Arthur Miller's great name, so he had his seat swapped by Miller in exchange for a signed copy of *Death of a Salesman*.

This way, the three of them were closer together, but before Wei Ming could say much to Miller, Wei Hong had already started practicing her spoken English with the old man.

"Arthur, please sit."

Then Wei Hong began to ask what Miller's works were about. Miller naturally brought up his proudest work, *Death of a Salesman*, which he wrote during the Great Depression.

Wei Ming also listened carefully, listening to the original author's understanding of his own work.

In fact, Wei Ming felt that Chinese people of this era might not quite understand why a salesman would seek death. If it were forty years later, middle-aged men burdened with families and mortgages during an economic downturn might find it easier to empathize.

On a smaller scale, this play is about the tragedy of a little man.

After 30 years of running around, with old age and declining health, falling performance, and a plummeting ability to earn money, plus two good-for-nothing sons and a mortgage to pay off, the protagonist Willy finally decides to use suicide to defraud insurance and squeeze out his last bit of utility.

On a larger scale, it reveals the spiritual dilemma of an era through the last 24 hours of an ordinary salesman's life.

Willy's tragedy lies in his belief that the success of the first half of his life was actually largely a dividend of the era; it lies in his desperate desire for success, and when he failed to achieve it himself, he pinned all his hopes on his two sons; it lies in the fact that one must learn to reconcile with oneself, otherwise constant inner conflict easily leads to destruction.

This is a work written more than 30 years ago, but even looking at it 30 years later in the 21st century, one can still find parallels in reality. This is the power of a classic text. Wei Ming felt that even fifty or sixty years from now, one could still see middle-aged men like Willy.

Before the meal was served, Miller talked about the ending of the story.

"At Willy's funeral, only his family and two neighbors attended; the scene was desolate. His son Biff finally decided to leave the city and return to farming, while his wife Linda lamented sadly at Willy's grave that they had finally paid off the mortgage on the house, but there was no one left to live in it."

Wei Hong could already feel that immense desolation: "I know Americans have the habit of consuming in advance, and many people carry mortgages. Arthur, do you have a mortgage too?"

Miller laughed: "I also started my own company. As long as you run a company, it's inevitable to deal with banks. However, owing money to banks is also an art of dealing with banks. You are going to study in the United States; if you didn't have your brother's financial support, you would certainly need to seek a bank loan."

Wei Hong: "I don't need to. I wrote a book before, sold over a million copies, and then invested in the stock market. Now I have hundreds of thousands of dollars."

Miller: "..."

Is this what they call "other people's children"?

After lunch, everyone rested for a while. Seeing Wei Hong's strong thirst for knowledge, Miller began to tell her about another of his representative works, *The Crucible*. This play had been brought to the stage two years ago at the Shanghai People's Art Theatre by the master Huang Zuolin, father of Huang Shuqin.

Although this story uses the past to satirize the present, intended to attack the political persecution and high-pressure atmosphere of the McCarthy era, he still had to remind Xiao Hong later: when you go to the United States to study, you can respect your classmates' religious beliefs, but you must never touch them.

There are quite a few cults in the US, and even Hollywood stars find it hard to avoid them.

After flying for more than ten hours and crossing the Pacific Ocean, the sun was just peeking out when they landed in Los Angeles.

Wei Ming and his sister said goodbye to Miller and parted ways. The old man invited them to visit Broadway in New York when they had time and expressed his hope for a chance to collaborate.

During his time at the Beijing People's Art Theatre, he had learned about Wei Ming's *Donkey Gets Water* and felt that Wei Ming was also very talented at writing plays.

When they walked out of San Francisco Airport, Gong Biyang, who had had dealings with Wei Ming and now had business dealings with him, came to pick them up in person.

Gong Biyang said: "The old lady is waiting at home. Shall we go home first?"

Wei Ming: "Okay."

Looking at the unfamiliar city, Wei Hong tightened her bag. When they went abroad, Lao Wei had just returned, and then he had them bring a century-old wild ginseng, which was right in the bag.

The car headed straight for the Tiburon estate. On the way, Gong Biyang couldn't help but talk about Wei Ming winning the Palme d'Or at Cannes.

"I was dumbfounded when I saw the news. How can there be a genius like you? Every novel you write sells over a million copies, and you just shoot a movie and win the highest award in Europe!"

"I was also very surprised to win the award. Consider it my good luck."

"Luck is also a part of strength. Will this movie be released in the United States? According to American filmmakers who attended Cannes, it's very good."

Wei Ming thought to himself, has Amblin already started promoting it?

"Yes, Spielberg's Amblin Entertainment has bought the American distribution rights for this film."

"Amblin Entertainment," Gong Biyang remembered something, "Some time ago, the old lady even inquired about the price to Amblin, but the other party wouldn't sell at all."

Of course they wouldn't sell. Amblin is equivalent to Spielberg's incarnation, having produced the box office champion *E. T. *, and projects in preparation include *Back to the Future* and *The Goonies*, all of which are potential blockbusters. How could they sell? Even if he sold DreamWorks in the future, he wouldn't sell Amblin.

Moreover, if Amblin lost Spielberg, it wouldn't have much significance.

Wei Ming was more curious: "Is Great-Aunt trying to enter the film and television industry?"

"Yes, it seems she was inspired by you."

Wei Ming nodded. This direction is not bad. Now that Reagan has taken office, the US economy is improving in all aspects. The film and television industry, especially the once-sluggish film industry, has begun to enter a period of rapid development, and its influence is growing. It is indeed worth entering.

Moreover, film and television involve ideology. The number of Jews and Chinese in the United States is comparable, but their influence is worlds apart. Apart from different starting points, the fact that Jews control Hollywood and the mouthpiece of global propaganda is also an important reason.

Even Arthur Miller, whom he met on the plane, although he is a well-known left-wing intellectual who sympathizes with the Communist Party and is friendly to China, and is praised as the conscience of American society, because of his Jewish background, he also wrote *Playing for Time*, which sings praises for Israel.

"Then did she eventually buy the film company?" Wei Ming asked.

"Haha, this matter is quite interesting. You can talk to her about it yourself when you meet."

When they arrived at the Shi family estate in Tiburon, Wei Ming unexpectedly found that his Little Aunt was also there, with Li Zhi by her side.

"Great-Aunt, I've come to see you. This is my sister, Xiao Hong."

Wei Hong looked around at the luxurious estate all the way. When she saw Great-Aunt Wei Lindi, she felt that only this old lady's temperament could match such a mansion.

No wonder she was willing to give away that old Western-style house in Shanghai. This mansion could probably top several of those old houses.

"Great-Aunt, this is the wild ginseng my father dug up himself in the Changbai Mountains. It's over a hundred years old. He almost got eaten by a bear while digging it." After meeting Great-Aunt, Wei Hong hurriedly presented the gift.

Wei Lindi said in surprise: "Ah, you ran into a bear? Didn't you bring me a pair of bear paws?"

Wei Hong was stunned, and then Wei Ming and Wei Lingling all laughed out loud. They laughed, and Xiao Hong laughed too. She didn't expect the old lady to be so humorous.

After the joke, she really opened the wooden box and looked at the huge ginseng root, full of whiskers.

Young people don't know much about this stuff, but Wei Lindi was once the young mistress of a wealthy family and had managed the Shi family for so many years, so her eye was still very sharp.

"It really is a century-old ginseng. Your father has a heart. Why didn't you bring him along this time?" Great-Aunt asked the housekeeper to put the ginseng away.

Wei Ming replied: "When we bought the tickets, he was still in the Changbai Mountains and hadn't returned. Next time, definitely next time."

"He really went to the Changbai Mountains to dig it himself?" Wei Lingling was surprised.

"I wouldn't dare lie to Great-Aunt. My dad accompanied Xizi to the Changbai Mountains to film *Journey to the West*," Wei Ming explained to Great-Aunt, "Xizi is my Uncle Ping'an's son. He is a little child star, known as the mainland's male version of Shirley Temple, playing Red Boy in the CCTV drama *Journey to the West*."

"I know, I know. I heard he even won Best Actor. This is all inherited from his grandmother. If there's a chance, he can come to Hollywood to develop. You write a script for him," Great-Aunt laughed.

She mentioned Hollywood, and Wei Ming asked directly: "I heard you are going to enter the film and television industry and want to buy a film company?"

Wei Lingling: "We were just talking about it. I only arrived last night too."

Wei Ming: "Then did you buy it? How much did it cost?"

"It's not that fast, but an intention has been reached. The other party quoted 30 million," Wei Lingling said.

"30 million dollars, which company?" Wei Ming asked. This order of magnitude is certainly not a big company, but it is definitely not a particularly small one. It is estimated that it will have a certain degree of popularity.

Wei Lingling said: "AMC, have you heard of it?"

Wei Ming: "That's not a film company. That's a cinema chain company."