Chapter 505: Zhou Hui

After the interview ended, Wei Ming asked Liang Jiahui about the initial print run of the first issue of “Yes!”

He told Wei Ming: “The debut issue was 60,000 copies total! We printed 30,000 for the launch, quickly added 20,000 more, still wasn’t enough, so we did one final print of 10,000.”

For a new magazine, this was an excellent result, but the first issue had heavy promotion and drew massive traffic from Amin and the Youth Stars; maintaining 50,000 copies for the next issue would count as success.

The main entertainment topic in the second issue was Zhou Hui’s debut Mandarin album “Mo Mo Mo”; half of the interview content Liang Jiahui had done with her earlier was reserved for this issue.

“I expect you to hit 100,000 copies,” Wei Ming told the “Yes!” staff, “and lead the youth trend.” This was the height “Yes!” had once reached in his past life.

He then went to Long’s office; Long had just finished reading the script for “Bikku the Demon King” and was deeply moved—the plot grew increasingly passionate, each climax higher than the last.

He had only known the general plot before, but now Wei Ming had written out nearly everything, including the storyline for the upcoming “Super Saiyan” arc, giving Long a heads-up.

Long had figured it out: “This manga will take at least two or three more years to finish.”

Wei Ming thought: Long, you’re too naive.

Though he couldn’t stretch a manga like Japanese editors did—binding Akira Toriyama for ten years—he knew five or six years was the bare minimum; for a long-form work, the longer it ran, the more it fermented.

Wei Ming noticed several copies of “China & Foreign Film & Television” on Long’s desk and asked: “Why suddenly interested in film? Looking for inspiration?”

Long shook his head: “The film and TV industry is booming right now; the company wanted to launch a professional entertainment magazine, but after thinking it over, we lack the talent—better to buy one outright, since our cash reserves are very strong.”

The Hong Kong dollar’s depreciation meant Minglong could profit.

“Yes!” had an entertainment section too, but it wasn’t specialized—its positioning was different.

It seemed Long had set his sights on “China & Foreign Film & Television,” which later became the first Hong Kong film and TV magazine to enter the mainland market.

“I heard this magazine was started by a few young entrepreneurs—would they sell it?” Wei Ming asked.

Long said: “If the price is right, I believe even Huang Yulang would sell his soul to me.”

Wei Ming laughed: “Then go negotiate—I’m sure you’ll become Hong Kong’s media tycoon sooner or later.”

“That’s not my ambition,” Long stood up excitedly. “Come, let me show you how our animation is coming along.”

The “History Miao” TV animation had already started production; Long was making it to meet mainland standards, hoping to recoup some costs, but the main target was ATV.

Since TVB had its own animation department, ATV found it hard to catch up from scratch—luckily, Liu Rulong came knocking, and the two sides hit it off immediately.

At the animation department, Wei Ming first saw a small, busy man who looked familiar.

Most people here were from Shanghai Animation Studio, but this guy was new; Long introduced him: “This is intern Xu Chengyi, a current student in graphic design at Hong Kong Polytechnic. He’s passionate about animation and previously submitted work to ‘Maniac’—he’s got real talent.”

Wei Ming nodded: Xu Chengyi—later known mainly for the controversial “Monster Hunt,” but actually he’d been working for DreamWorks Animation since the late 80s, contributing to the “Shrek” series.

He hadn’t expected Long to move so fast—the first episode, “Creation of Heaven and Earth,” was already done; its protagonist, Nüwa Miao, was one of the hardest to collect in the blind box series.

To reduce the difficulty of collecting History Miao dolls, Longning divided them into different series—Ancient Era, Pre-Qin Era, etc.—and also developed cheaper cards, letting Hong Kong youth experience the joy of “Water Margin” cards ahead of time.

The animation quality of this episode, frankly, couldn’t compare to “Transformers,” nor even to “Black Cat Detective.”

But it didn’t matter—“Transformers” had huge budgets, millions of Hong Kong dollars poured in, achieving international standards.

Though “History Miao” had Longning’s investment, it targeted the local market; no need for excessive polish—just entertaining and watchable while teaching.

Even so, it was quite fun; Wei Ming felt if the IP was properly built, an animated feature film like “Old Master Q” might one day be possible.

Though none of the “Old Master Q” animated films were massive hits, each earned several million Hong Kong dollars, and there was also some market in Taiwan.

After touring Minglong Media, Wei Ming continued writing novels, accompanying Amin, and visiting film sets—all three fronts moving forward.

Of these, accompanying Amin yielded the first achievement: Wei Ming’s acting debut was coming!

That evening, Wei Hong and Amin were both at Wei Ming’s home; the three waited together for TVB’s “Jing Ge Jin Qu” program.

On this episode, Amin performed, singing the album’s lead single “Zhi He Zhi He” with Zhang Guorong—visually stunning and melodious, instantly stirring excitement among Hong Kong’s teenage boys and girls.

Amin also announced on the show: “Tomorrow at 8 a.m., all major music stores and stalls across Hong Kong will release my debut Mandarin album ‘Mo Mo Mo’—you’ll hear ‘Zhi He Zhi He’ and many other excellent Chinese-style songs, all written and composed by me and Wei Ming.”

From this album onward, Zhou Hui aimed to transform into a singer-songwriter; though her own composition skills paled next to Wei Ming’s, she hoped each album would include at least one decent song she wrote herself.

After the show, a surprise bonus was released: the narrative music video for “Yue Man Xi Lou.”

Amin nudged Xiao Hong urgently: “Look! Your brother’s on TV!”

Wei Ming had appeared on TV many times, but this was his first time as an actor—he felt slightly embarrassed; Amin, blissfully nestled against him, seemed to be declaring ownership over Wei Ming through this MV.

Many viewers at home might not have caught the implication, but the fusion of song and narrative short film felt fresh to them.

“Yue Man Xi Lou” had been released two months prior and was already the most popular Mandarin song of the period; now with the MV, audiences felt the quality had risen another level—their imagination of the song had become concrete.

The first reaction of PolyGram’s CEO, Cheng Tung-han, was: Shoot! Immediately make a narrative MV for Tan Yonglin too!

Meanwhile, Capital Records, due to its ties with TVB, was already in planning stages; Zhang Guorong and Anita Mui would also shoot MVs, but they didn’t plan to make them as elaborate as “Yue Man Xi Lou”—big directors and film production were too expensive.

After all, this wasn’t a revenue product; it could only serve as promotion, so costs had to be kept low.

At Liu Rulong’s home, Gong Ying and her mother were also watching TVB, seeing Zhou Hui and Zhang Guorong duet; Gong Ying’s mother even praised the song as beautiful.

Only when the “Yue Man Xi Lou” MV aired—showing Wei Ming and Zhou Hui entering the bridal chamber, then their tender married life—did Gong Ying’s mother feel slightly stunned: Xiao Wei doesn’t seem like he’s acting.

Fortunately, Wei Ming and Gong Ying’s romantic relationship hadn’t been fully revealed to her mother, but Gong Ying knew.

And she’d long suspected this “sister-in-law” had an unusual connection with Zhou Hui; Hong Kong had so many singers, yet others struggled to get Wei Ming to write one song—Zhou Hui kept getting album after album written for her.

But in front of her mother, she held her tongue; just then, Liu Rulong returned, and she dragged Long into the bedroom for interrogation.

“Tell me—what’s the real relationship between your buddy and Zhou Hui?”

“Which buddy? Xu Jinjiang or Liang Jiahui?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“Pen pals—that’s something you already know.”

“Anything else? Tell the truth!” Gong Ying’s eyes widened, her expression stern, one hand gently resting on her belly—as if holding the crown prince hostage.

Long was scared, but Wei Ming was his brother, so he said: “Why don’t you ask him yourself? I don’t hang out with him every day.”