Chapter 496: My Cousin Became My Sister-in-Law—What a Mess

Wei Ming’s money in Hong Kong was all in US dollars; after the second phase of the Sino-British negotiations began, the cash flows of Langning, Haoli Lai, and Minglong were also converted into US dollars, eliminating the impact of the Hong Kong dollar’s sharp depreciation.

The departure of Jardine Matheson was just the beginning—Britain, seeking advantage in the negotiations, would surely let Hong Kong descend into chaos for a while, and Wei Hong, holding nearly a hundred million Hong Kong dollars, was perfectly positioned to take advantage of the turmoil and hone her skills.

But soon another matter caught her attention: that day, her aunt Wei Lingling arrived at her grandfather’s house with a box, waiting until she, her grandfather, and Xi Zi were all present before opening it.

“This is…”

Wei Lingling: “Correct—it’s Nintendo’s new home console, the Family Computer, abbreviated as FC.”

Due to its red-and-white color scheme, many called it the “Red and White Machine,” compact and beautifully designed.

Nintendo produced over 400,000 units of the Red and White Machine in its first batch; Wei Lingling secured ten outright, along with several accompanying game cartridges, keeping one at home, sending one each to Wei Hong and her father, and planning to dismantle the rest.

In Wei Lingling’s mind, handhelds were merely temporary substitutes for home consoles when away from home, so her true focus remained the home console market.

Wei Hong quickly connected it to the TV, then exclaimed: “Why is everything in Japanese?”

Old Ghost said: “No problem—I’ll handle the translation.”

Working underground in the Japanese-occupied zone required at least some knowledge of Japanese.

Xi Zi loved beautiful young ladies most, followed by game consoles, and he joined his sister and grandfather in playing.

They casually inserted the Donkey Kong cartridge; though it was a port from the handheld, the handheld’s screen was so tiny—now playing on the TV felt entirely different.

“Wow, so smooth!” Wei Hong was a gaming expert; she instantly knew this crushed the Atari 2600—even the Atari 5200 fell short.

Both the Nintendo FC and the Atari 2600 were 8-bit consoles, and Atari had recently launched a 16-bit console, the Atari 5200, but market acceptance remained low.

The FC launched with seven titles; Mario Bros., which Wei Ming cared most about, wasn’t among them—likely reserved for later releases.

All these games were developed in-house by Nintendo and couldn’t be played on any other platform.

Besides the classic Donkey Kong (Donkey Kong), there was Popeye, licensed from the US; these two were the flagship titles.

The others included Donkey Kong Jr. Learns Math, an educational game; Wei Hong tried it: “Xi Zi, this one’s perfect for you—you should play it more.”

Xi Zi looked miserable: “If I have to study while playing games, what’s the point of playing?”

Lin Ni picked up a cartridge: “Can you play mahjong on this console?”

These launch titles also included mahjong, five-in-a-row, and baseball—targeted games designed to appeal to every demographic.

They tried the mahjong game; Lin Ni loved it, because the single-player mode meant she could play even when no one else was home.

Back in Taiwan at the Wei Mansion, she often played mahjong with her sister and the two Wei ladies, honing her skills—she always lost with perfect artistry.

Whenever she returned to Taiwan, all three would say they missed her terribly and could never find a better mahjong partner.

Wei Lingling communicated with testers while taking notes, confirming the Nintendo FC’s performance utterly crushed the Atari 2600—and it achieved this while slashing the unit price so dramatically.

Moreover, their games were exceptionally fun; Atari’s best-selling titles, Space Invaders and Pac-Man, were both made by Japanese companies, while their own E.T. was nothing but roadside trash compared to them.

Spielberg probably regretted selling the rights for over twenty million dollars—this garbage game severely damaged the reputation of the original, critically acclaimed film.

With Xi Zi’s intelligence, his favorite among these games was Five-in-a-Row: simple, classic, just connect five in a line—it was fun, but he insisted on playing only with Ni Nai, never with Sister Hong.

Old Ghost, Xi Zi, Wei Hong, and Lin Ni were all fighting over control of the console, turning the room into chaos; Wei Lingling regretted not bringing a second console.

While they were playing, Zhou Ma arrived, seeing the whole family gathered around the TV: “Has Amin and Aiming not come back yet?”

Everyone shook their heads; Lin Ni was about to say not to worry, but then checked the time—it was already ten p.m., and they hadn’t eaten yet.

“Aifen, do you have any leftover food?” Lin Ni asked sheepishly. “I’m hungry.”

Xi Zi: “Me too!”

Zhou Ma shook her head and went straight to the kitchen to prepare something simple; Wei Lingling followed to help.

As for Wei Ming and Amin, they were recording “Zhi Zhu Zhi Zhu” today; after finishing, Wei Ming and Amin took Zhang Guorong out for dinner, with Mei Yanfang also present, and Wei Ming handed her the song he’d promised to write.

The song was called “Like Flowing Water,” yes—the theme song of the film starring Xue Jie; the original was composed by Kitaro and lyricized by Cheng Guojiang.

“Gazing at the sea, vast and still, /

Filled with weariness, no tears, no words. /

Gazing at the sky, endless and blue, /

Only feeling my heart in chaos. /

My heart is like a small wooden boat…”

The song perfectly matched the heroine’s inner state in the film.

Wei Ming gave the song to Mei Yanfang, but insisted it must be the theme for her film “Paper Butterfly”; though the film was shot on the mainland and would surely upset the Free Association, Mei Yanfang didn’t hesitate—she agreed immediately.

In the original timeline, she sang this song too—it was one of her signature works.

Wei Ming felt proud: helping Amin while also helping Xue Jie—killing two birds with one stone. Oh yeah!

He turned and saw Zhang Guorong watching him expectantly; Wei Ming said: “Don’t worry—you’ll get one too.”

Amin’s album needed Zhang Guorong to duet on two songs; though he was eager to help for free, even appearing in “Little Ghosts,” Wei Ming still promised to write him a song.

After Wei Ming’s promise, Zhang Guorong smiled: “Could I make a few extra requests?”

“Go ahead.”

“A Mandarin song.”

“Oh?”

Seeing Tan Yonglin had already released two Mandarin albums to conquer Taiwan, Huaxing was restless and planned to produce Zhang Guorong’s first Mandarin album, co-produced by Li Xiaotian and Taiwan’s Chyi Yu.

Though Chyi Yu was highly talented, she still lagged slightly behind Wei Ming; if Wei Ming lent a hand, Zhang Guorong would feel far more confident about the album.

“Mandarin songs? Great—I find writing them much easier than Cantonese ones.” Wei Ming agreed readily.

After dinner, it was late; Wei Ming and Amin took a drive before dropping her off.

Unexpectedly, when they arrived home, Zhou Ma wasn’t there—so Amin invited Wei Ming to sit in her room.

“Maybe not.”

“Come on, I’ll show you the photos I shot for ‘Yes!’”

The magazine hired Hong Kong’s most professional photographer, capturing Amin’s pure, vibrant side; one photo showed her in a basketball uniform dribbling—Wei Ming was instantly reminded of Chi Muyu, those legs—long, straight, pale—he couldn’t help but reach out again.

As he touched her, they tumbled onto the bed and kissed; Amin pulled his hand, guiding him upward.

Just as they were getting carried away, Zhou Ma’s voice came from outside: “Amin, you’re back?”

She remembered turning off the lights when she left.

“Mom, uh, just got back.” Zhou Huiyan adjusted her clothes as she answered.

Wei Ming pressed down: “Auntie, you’re back? That’s a relief—I’ll be going now.”

A son-in-law always fears his father-in-law; Amin never had a father, so Zhou Ma was both mother-in-law and father-in-law, radiating authority at all times.

Wei Ming had already reached the door when Zhou Ma added: “Your aunt just went downstairs—she probably wants to talk to you.”

“Oh, alright, I’ll go down and find her.”

He went downstairs—Wei Lingling had already driven off; Wei Ming decided to visit Langning Company tomorrow.

But when he returned to his home in Tung Lo Wan, Gong Ying was shyly entertaining Wei Lingling.

Wei Ming checked the time: “It’s past eleven—can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

Wei Lingling laughed: “Sorry, I must’ve interrupted you. I just came to tell you I’ve got the FC, and the Tetris game is done—want to come over and try it tomorrow?”

“Oh, really? Sure. Why didn’t you just call? You didn’t have to come all the way—I’ll see you off.”

Wei Lingling thought: If I hadn’t seen you hiding a beauty here, I’d have stayed up all night talking—this Nintendo has shaken me to my core.

The next day, Wei Ming arrived at Langning; since their own handheld wasn’t ready yet, he tried it on the computer.

His earlier game design was extremely detailed—exactly what he wanted, identical; but since it was called “Chinese Tetris,” the art added some Chinese elements—the top featured a giant dragon spitting blocks.

“Good job—very well done. I’m satisfied,” Wei Ming said. With his experience, he lasted ten full minutes before dying; during his play, Wei Lingling seemed to sense the game’s appeal—it required strategy and risk.

The engineer responsible for development said: “I’m also satisfied. While making it, I realized how highly playable this game is—I’m certain it’ll stun the gaming world!”

Indeed, for a long time, this remained the best-selling game globally, especially on handhelds, where it became a sensation.

Wei Lingling said: “Want to try the FC again?”

“Sure.”

Wei Ming checked the cartridges—no Mario Bros. yet—so he chose Donkey Kong 2; the original Donkey Kong was a direct port from the handheld, but this “2” was designed specifically for the home console.

Wei Ming played calmly; having experienced many AAA titles, he suspected only Super Mario Bros. would truly surprise him.