[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-rising-in-1979":3,"chapter-rising-in-1979-rising-in-1979-chapter-50":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Rising in 1979",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2260758,4412,"Chapter 50: The Tale of Pacifying the Demons","rising-in-1979-chapter-50",50,"\u003Cp>Hearing that Debiao had been beaten, Wei Ming couldn’t eat another bite and rushed downstairs to check on him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pushing open the dorm door, he saw Zhao Debiao with his head wrapped in gauze, jumping around and boasting to his comrades about how he got beaten.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That girl played dirty—I’m strong in bare-knuckle fighting, but she insisted on weapons. Fine, weapons it is—but she wouldn’t let me use long weapons. My best weapon is the red-tasselled spear, but I was forced to fight with a sword, and I truly couldn’t match her with a sword…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just as he was getting into his story, he spotted Wei Ming and immediately shooed everyone away—they’d already heard it dozens of times, and now they wanted to hear it again? Annoying.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Watching Debiao’s condition, Wei Ming asked Mei Wenhua, who was barely holding back a laugh: “Did he hit his head?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua nodded vigorously: “The doctor said concussion. His brain’s definitely badly hurt—he’s actually enjoying this! I had to carry him back; he was dead weight.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Debiao snorted at Mei Wenhua: “That’s just because you’re out of shape. How come Yanzi can carry me just fine?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At this point, Debiao finally revealed the truth: he’d dodged Huang Jiaoyan’s sword by accident, banged his head on the parallel bar, started bleeding and feeling dizzy—so Huang Jiaoyan personally carried him to get treated. That was the real point he wanted to make.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was still warm at the end of September, and both were dressed lightly for the match. For Zhao Debiao, having his first intimate contact with a girl, even if his brain had been shaken clean out, it was worth it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And she cried right beside my hospital bed, Ming-ge—you know what? This is the first time a girl has cried for me!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “How did she cry?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“She said: ‘Zhao Debiao, you absolutely cannot die!’”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming cut straight to the point: “She was just afraid of criminal liability.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua slapped his thigh, laughing until he couldn’t breathe.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Wei Ming still had one question: “Debiao, you’re nearly 1.8 meters tall and built like a tank—how could this Yanzi even carry you? Is she some kind of female strongwoman?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If this was the Huang Jiaoyan he knew, she clearly had an ordinary build.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, Yanzi carried me in front, and behind her was a junior brother dragging me—that little Li you mentioned before.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming imagined the scene and thought: Holy shit, you three really know how to have fun!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another thing that made Debiao happy: “Yanzi said she’d come visit me in two days.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua grinned: “Then your injuries are too mild. If you stayed in the hospital for a month or two, she’d visit you every day—your relationship would skyrocket.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Debiao’s eyes lit up instantly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “Little Mei, don’t give him bad ideas—you say it, he’ll believe it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Mei Wenhua wasn’t wrong—this really did deepen feelings. In the original timeline, Yanzi had successfully won over Ajie this exact way when he got injured.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After confirming Debiao was fine, Wei Ming checked the time—it was nearly time for his patrol shift. He changed into his uniform and headed to the cafeteria to see what snacks were left.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To his surprise, he ran into Liu Zhenyun holding a small notebook like he was writing court chronicles: “Hey, why are you only coming back now?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sorry, Lao Liu, I’m late. We’ll have to reschedule dinner till tomorrow.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No problem—she hasn’t eaten either. She’s been waiting for you specifically. Let’s go, let’s go.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua muttered sourly from the side: “Your Chinese Department girls are so forward—they’ve been starving themselves just to invite Wei Ming to dinner?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Zhenyun smiled: “Miss Mi said she’d rather go hungry than eat without Wei Ming.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua: “Who?! Who’s treating today?!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now it was Debiao’s turn to laugh at him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before leaving, Mei Wenhua pulled Wei Ming aside and lectured him at length: “Ming-ge, you can’t get involved with Qingqing-jie!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming: “It’s just dinner. Nothing’s going to happen.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mei Wenhua still wasn’t reassured, so he gritted his teeth: “Before you buy a bike, you get first pick of mine—ride it however you want, I won’t use it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming chuckled: “I definitely won’t get involved with her!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What could happen? This Miss Mi had nothing but big breasts—her face was average at best in the Chinese Department, nowhere near the beauty of Gong Zhu he’d met before.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But in terms of generosity, Gong Zhu couldn’t compare to her either.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Damn, why did I just think of her? We’re both in Beijing, but Beijing’s too big—seeing each other is nearly impossible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the General Political Department Drama Troupe, Gong Zhu had just finished a full day of rehearsals and eaten dinner when she received a call from her sister, Gong Ying.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sis, guess what I just saw!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re not even giving me context—how am I supposed to know?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gong Ying: “Lately I’ve been flipping through Dad’s newspapers and noticed he’s been reading a novel these past few days.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The novel’s called ‘Spring River Water Warm, Ducks Know First.’ The author is… Wei Ming.” Gong Ying paused, disappointed by her sister’s lack of reaction. “Do you think it’s the same Wei Ming you know?” Gong Zhu replied calmly: “Probably just the same name. He’s revising a manuscript for ‘Shouhuo’—it’s not like ‘Shouhuo’ rejected it and dumped it onto… which newspaper did you see it in?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“‘Wenhui Daily’—it’s been serialized for three installments.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, so ‘Shouhuo’ rejected it and passed it to ‘Wenhui Daily’?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gong Ying had rushed to tell her sister the moment she found out, only to be met with such indifference—it was disappointing. Could it really be that they had nothing to do with each other?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But she’d also seen the magazine with that man’s poem written to her sister—addressed “To Gong Zhu, by Wei Ming”—all those foreign-style flourishes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After hanging up, Gong Zhu immediately went to the troupe’s reading room. ‘Wenhui Daily’ was a major national paper, and the troupe subscribed to every issue. Sure enough, she found ‘Spring River Water Warm, Ducks Know First’—all three installments.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After reading them, she was almost certain: this author Wei Ming was the same Wei Ming she knew.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Modern literary works rarely had such playful, lively tones—the style matched Wei Ming’s way of speaking.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he’d told her he submitted a novella to ‘Shouhuo’—this was clearly a short story. Had he written it after arriving in Shanghai?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That seemed too fast. Gong Zhu rested her chin in her hand, lost in thought.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liang Zuo was also lost in thought.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why has Wei Ming stopped standing guard and switched to patrol duty?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d watched from upstairs as Wei Ming escorted Mi Qing back to the girls’ dorm, then entered Building 32.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Patrol duty included dorms, of course—but he couldn’t very well enter the girls’ dorm. He’d start with the boys’.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At this time, Peking University dorms had no curfew—students decided for themselves when to sleep or stay up late.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Along the way, people greeted Wei Ming; many introduced themselves and invited him in to sit and chat, eager to get to know him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming declined them all: “On official duty. No trouble in the dorms, so I won’t go in. If you need anything, just say so.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only when Wei Ming walked out of the dorm building did Liang Zuo finally breathe a sigh of relief—his mother had told him about himself; Wei Ming must know he was Chen Rong’s son. What if he forced him to call him “Uncle”?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ugh, this is so annoying!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After checking a few male dorms, Wei Ming went to Langrun Garden for patrol, where he met a senior officer. The two walked together with flashlights, the senior continuing to recount Peking University’s old stories.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Today he’d cycled nearly five hours, including one stretch carrying someone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then he patrolled on foot for another six hours. Even though he could sit and rest occasionally, he was utterly exhausted—his legs felt swollen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Back at the dorm, it was already 1 a.m. Debiao wanted to ask him for dating advice; Mei Wenhua worried whether he’d mentioned himself during dinner with Qingqing-jie; Feng-ge had news about secondhand bikes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Wei Ming heard none of it. He didn’t wash up—just collapsed into bed and fell asleep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He woke once in the night, remembering the tiger bone wine had a powerful effect on strengthening bones and tendons. He pulled it out, poured a small capful, drank it, and went back to sleep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The next morning, Wei Ming woke up refreshed, all discomfort gone—clearly, the wine wasn’t poisonous.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had no patrol duty in the morning and planned to audit a class, so he got up at seven.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>During yesterday’s patrol, Wei Ming had gathered some class schedules from students and, with the senior’s help, familiarized himself with the campus buildings.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a light breakfast, he grabbed his bag and headed to the Russian Language Building for his English class.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though Wei Ming had scored high on his college entrance English exam, that was merely high school level—and high school English back then was far simpler than in the future, with no listening component.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the future, Wei Ming had undergone intensive one-on-one training and excelled in listening and speaking, but his reading and writing were weak.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was a major gap for reading foreign originals and understanding foreign cultures—he wanted to fix it. Who knew? Maybe he’d one day make money off foreigners.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was a freshman class. If time allowed, Wei Ming planned to follow it through.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since his English was already far stronger than the freshmen’s, he found the class effortless and natural.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After two classes, Wei Ming considered auditing an advanced English class—but as he stepped outside, he saw the girls from Class 77 Chinese.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They greeted each other, and the girls exclaimed: “Hey, you’re taking English but not coming to our Chinese class?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Someone added: “No wonder your English is so fluent.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Ming smiled: “What class do you have today?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Professor Qu Yude’s Chinese Folk Myths and Legends.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing it was Professor Qu’s class, Wei Ming had to attend: “Let’s go! I’m coming too!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because he’d been to Shanghai last week, Professor Qu had rescheduled—today he was teaching four consecutive classes to make up for last week’s missed session.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The girls said today’s lecture focused on Ming Dynasty supernatural fiction; the first two classes had covered ‘Investiture of the Gods,’ and the next two would likely switch to another book.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They guessed it would probably be ‘Journey to the West.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But when they entered the classroom, they saw the previous lecture’s board had been wiped clean—and rewritten in three large characters: ‘Ping Yao Zhuan’…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1800,"2026-06-19T16:30:57.111Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","10b9be252565c66427280a7a94ea0c13980cde47c25654197fd2ceefacacd372","rising-in-1979-chapter-51","rising-in-1979-chapter-49",509,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Frising-in-1979-cover.jpg"]