Chapter 492

Hu Weili chose to take a check directly: “My son wants to study abroad—can this money be withdrawn overseas?”

Wei Ming: “As long as there’s a HSBC branch, it’s fine—this bank has wide international coverage.”

“Then it’s settled,” Hu Weili solemnly shook Wei Ming’s hand. “Teacher Wei, you’ve done me a huge favor—I never imagined my few songs could be worth so much!”

He had written music for many years, and many pieces remained unpublished.

Wei Ming said seriously: “As long as you use your talent in the right place, it’s a treasure. I won’t disturb you further—I’m going to Hong Kong in a few days, and I’m also going abroad to study.”

“Ah? You’re going to Hong Kong?” Hu Weili was dazed—he was actually born in Hong Kong and still had cousins there.

During his childhood, amid chaos, his parents feared Hong Kong would be invaded by Japan, so they brought him back to the mainland, and later he became a disciple of the famous musician Ma Sichong, who was also the first president of the Central Conservatory of Music.

Later, Master Ma moved to the United States via Hong Kong, while Hu Weili developed a lower back ailment during his years in Shaanxi, which still ached in damp weather.

After seeing Wei Ming off, his wife asked: “Old Hu, are we still going to Hong Kong?”

Since they had relatives in Hong Kong, Hu Weili thought they could quit their current jobs and go there to work—he and his wife both worked in music, so finding employment wouldn’t be hard, and their income would surely be higher than now, allowing their children to afford studying abroad even without public sponsorship.

Hu Weili fell silent for a moment, then suddenly slapped his thigh: “I’m such an idiot—I was so stunned by all that money I didn’t even ask Teacher Wei what he’s going to Hong Kong for. I’ll go see him again later—maybe he’ll need our help.”

He still longed to leave—he was nearly fifty, and didn’t know how many years he had left to waste.

On the mainland, though he was a university professor, he was exhausted and worn out—he just wanted a place where he could purely make music.

After leaving Hu Weili’s home, Wei Ming hurried straight to the Sihe Academy in Houhai—this place had a new lock, likely much safer—he went inside, changed his bicycle, and in the dark rode to Nánluógǔxiàng, where they had arranged to meet that night.

Gong Ying opened the door for him; Zhu Lin was tidying the table and chairs, preparing leeks.

Wei Ming looked at the leeks—he didn’t trust his own abilities? Come on, after being cooped up in Hong Kong for so long, he was dying to eat meat.

But before eating meat, Wei Ming had to give the two sisters some warnings.

“What? You’re going to study abroad? Not just as a companion?” Zhu Lin put down her chopsticks.

“How many years will you stay?” Gong Ying asked—they had assumed they’d accompany him for one or two months until Wei Hong adjusted, then return—but if it was actual study abroad…

“I’m doing graduate school—it’ll take at least two or three years.” Hearing “two or three years,” the two sisters lost their appetite—how old would they be by then?

“Are you ditching us? Running away?” Zhu Lin spoke bluntly.

Gong Ying also felt hurt—was he already involved with someone in America?

Wei Ming laughed: “How could I? Even if I could bear to leave you, I could never leave my beloved motherland!”

Seeing Wei Ming still joking, Zhu Lin and Gong Ying felt somewhat reassured.

Wei Ming added: “Besides, it’s just going abroad—not launching into space. There are weekly flights between Beijing and San Francisco, and I’m not short on money, so I’ll return to China at least once a month. I just worry you won’t have time to accompany me.”

Hearing Wei Ming would return monthly, the two sisters picked up their chopsticks again, piling leeks onto his plate, and feigned concern: “Won’t that be too tiring?”

“I can fly first class—I’ll just sleep on the plane,” Wei Ming gently stroked their legs. “Publicly, I’m saying I’m going abroad to learn and improve my literary skills, but only here can I tell you the truth.”

They both stared at Wei Ming—was he on a secret mission to America?

Wei Ming glanced nervously outside: “Have you noticed there are more patrol officers on the streets lately, and lots of old ladies in red armbands carrying flashlights walking through alleys?”

Zhu Lin nodded; Gong Ying felt nothing—she’d only just returned and had been staying home.

“It’s true, but it’s good—it makes me feel safer coming home,” Zhu Lin said.

Wei Ming tapped the table: “That’s exactly the problem—because security is poor, patrols keep increasing, but can that solve the root cause?”

Both shook their heads—no, it could only offer slight relief.

Wei Ming snapped his fingers: “So I predict strict measures will follow this trend. Do you think our behavior counts as illegal or disorderly conduct?”

“Ah!” Zhu Lin and Gong Ying’s faces changed—they had always thought this was their private matter, as long as they kept it secret and no one found out.

But if things turned as severe as Wei Ming suggested, with more and more patrol officers and old ladies on the streets, neighbors might even report them—what then…

“Oh no!” Gong Ying remembered her childhood experiences—she stood up abruptly. “Xiao Wei, why don’t you leave now? We won’t keep you tonight.”

Zhu Lin, though reluctant, nodded along.

Wei Ming calmly picked up a bite of leek with scrambled eggs: “It hasn’t officially started yet, so no need to panic now—but after I return from America, we definitely can’t go out together anymore. From now on, it’ll be one-on-one—if caught, we can say we’re dating.”

Gong Ying sat back down. Seeing her gloomy expression, Wei Ming sighed: “I should’ve waited till after dinner to say this—I’ve ruined your appetite. My fault.”

Gong Ying picked up her chopsticks: “I’ll eat. I’ll eat.”

Wei Ming comforted her: “Don’t worry—once the storm passes, we’ll go back to how things were. It’s just a pity.”

He glanced at the outdoor pool: “It’s a shame we haven’t swum together this year—no more paired swimmers like butterflies in flight.”

Zhu Lin rolled her eyes: “That’s not ‘butterflies flying in pairs’—it’s clearly three…”

Wei Ming’s forehead broke into sweat: “Your Majesty, watch your words!”

After dinner, the two sisters urged Wei Ming to brush his teeth.

Hmph—you were the ones who made him eat leeks, and now you’re complaining.

When he came out of the bathroom, the two sisters had changed into light, comfortable pajamas—thin enough to see through—and the TV was on, playing the VHS tape of The Blue Lagoon that Gong Ying had brought back from Hong Kong.

She had held off watching it, waiting for all three to watch together—but now, with this situation, they might never again watch a movie together outside.

Wei Ming hugged each of them and turned on the film.

During the movie, Gong Ying asked: “When are you going to Hong Kong? The Little Herd’s Spring is premiering in two days.”

“Oh? July 1st?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Wei Ming: “I’ll leave after the premiere—I’ll spend these days with you.”

Gong Ying said: “You should focus on accompanying Linjie—once we’re in Hong Kong, we’ll have plenty of chances, and we won’t need to hide anymore.”

Wei Ming thought: Better to keep hiding—I’ve only just calmed down Amin.

They agreed: tomorrow Zhu Lin would return to her Tuanjiehu residence; if Wei Ming wanted to experience Zhu Lin’s queenly skin, he’d have to go there to find her.

While Wei Ming was with his sisters, Wei Hong was distributing gifts to her dorm mates.

Besides various plush toys, stationery, and small gifts bought from Langning Gift Shop, there were also several Nintendo handheld consoles—all of which she had completed.

The girls were envious—Ning Xin declared: “Redie, wait for me—I’m definitely going to America next year!”

She could even imagine studying abroad, while Qiao Cui, Guo Qian, and the others didn’t dare dream it—Peking University had over two thousand undergraduates per class, but only a handful of study-abroad slots each year.

Besides, they all wanted to get jobs quickly and earn money to support their families.

Wei Hong patted Ning Xin’s shoulder: “When that time comes, I’ll be an old overseas student—if you come to the San Francisco area, mention my name.”

Qiao Cui said: “To celebrate Redie studying in America, let’s all go see The Little Herd’s Spring on the first.”

“Good, good, good!”

Everyone agreed—it was the preferred final group activity for many 1979 graduates about to part ways: watch a movie and say goodbye.

Fortunately, this film was about education, and its theme was perfectly fitting.

Both Xiao Ming and Xiao Hong had their most important tasks at hand; only Xu Shufen remained in the Overseas Chinese Apartment—she was nearly asleep when Old Wei returned.

He smiled and reported to his wife: “I checked—the ginkgo was paired up, the tǔsōng with tǔsōng—pure bloodline. In a few months, there’ll be puppies—I’ll pick one. I also saw a tricolor cat leading several kittens near the alley entrance—all of them cow-patterned—probably offspring of our police chief. I’ll ask whose female cat it is—I’ll get one to carry on the police chief’s lineage.”