Chapter 307: The Good Brother Is the One Who Listens

Zhang Weiping first blinked in surprise, then grabbed Lao Mouzi’s hand, his face lighting up with joy:

“Pregnant? That’s wonderful! This is such great news!

Congratulations, Mouzi! You’re going to be a father again!”

Upon hearing this, Lao Mouzi chuckled softly.

Zhang Weiping hugged Lao Mouzi and asked, “Mouzi, do you have any idea if your wife is carrying a boy or a girl? Do you want a son or a daughter?”

Lao Mouzi had clearly thought about this before and replied with a smile: “If it’s a boy, I’ll name him Zhang Yiding; if it’s a girl, I’ll name her Zhang Yijiao.”

Zhang Weiping punched Lao Mouzi lightly on the chest: “Hey, looks like you’re hoping for a boy, huh?”

Lao Mouzi now has two children: his elder daughter, born to his ex-wife, is already twenty; his eldest son, born to Chen Ting in 2001, is named Zhang Yinan and is only two years old.

Just listen to the names he wants to give his child—if the boy is named Zhang Yiding, then combined with his eldest son’s name, it spells “Yinan Yiding,” meaning “male heir.” His traditional farmer-like obsession with having sons is unmistakable.

So Zhang Weiping went along with it: “Yiding is perfect! When you get another son, it’ll expand your family line and make your clan even more prosperous!”

Lao Mouzi nodded with a smile but said nothing.

Then Zhang Weiping chatted on for a while longer, until he finally paused—only then did Lao Mouzi speak up: “Weiping, now that Chen Ting is pregnant and I’m away from home, she has no income…”

Here, Lao Mouzi hesitated, then finally said it: “About the money I’m owed…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, feeling awkward, but he trusted that Zhang Weiping had already understood his meaning.

Of course, Zhang Weiping understood perfectly—he was asking for his overdue screenplay fee.

Since 2000, Lao Mouzi had received almost nothing from Zhang Weiping.

According to official investigations during his later over-quota birth scandal, Lao Mouzi’s household annual income in 2000 was only 2,760 yuan, coming solely from his basic salary at the Guangdong Western Film Studio.

A director of his stature earning just 2,760 yuan a year—can you believe it?

But that’s exactly how Lao Mouzi lived—quietly enduring, never once asking Zhang Weiping for money. He wouldn’t have spoken up now unless his wife Chen Ting was pregnant again, and especially since it was an illegal second child. He was the kind of traditional, prideful man who valued brotherhood and face, preferring to suffer in silence rather than speak up.

During the filming of “Hero,” the investors led by Jiang Zhiqiang had invested $30 million; Lao Mouzi’s salary wasn’t low—though undisclosed, it must have been several million. But that money never reached him—it was all held by Xin Huamian Company.

When Zhang Weiping heard Lao Mouzi mention money, his face immediately twisted into a look of distress. “Mouzi, it’s not that I don’t want to pay you—it’s just that our company is barely scraping by right now!”

Knowing Lao Mouzi so well, Zhang Weiping had already anticipated this moment the moment he mentioned Chen Ting’s pregnancy. He’d been dodging the topic, knowing Lao Mouzi’s pride made him reluctant to bring it up.

But now that Lao Mouzi had spoken, Zhang Weiping had his reply ready:

“Look, last time ‘Hero’ made so much money, everyone in China assumed we got rich—but only you and I know we just made noise. All the real profits went straight into the pockets of Jiang Zhiqiang and the other investors.”

“That’s why we absolutely have to invest in ‘House of Flying Daggers’ ourselves. All of Xin Huamian’s money has been poured into this film—I simply can’t access any cash right now!”

Zhang Weiping spread his hands helplessly, then suddenly pulled Lao Mouzi into a hug, his expression resolute:

“Here’s what I’ll do: I’ll call my wife right now and have her send 50,000 yuan to your wife! And if she needs anything else, I’ll have my wife prepare it all—I’ll even have her stay with your wife, take care of her properly!”

Lao Mouzi quickly waved his hands: “No, no need! Chen Ting is only three months along, and we have people at home to help.”

“Come on, Mouzi, you’re being too polite with your brother! I can’t give you big money now, but you must take this 50,000—otherwise, you’re insulting me!”

Zhang Weiping gripped Lao Mouzi’s hands tightly, locking eyes with him firmly.

Lao Mouzi finally nodded.

Zhang Weiping smiled: “That’s better! Who are we to each other? We’re closer than blood brothers! If you need anything, just say the word—I’ll do it, or even risk my life to make it happen!”

Lao Mouzi squeezed Zhang Weiping’s hand and nodded gratefully: “Thank you, Weiping!”

Zhang Weiping thought the matter was settled, but the next moment Lao Mouzi spoke again:

“Weiping, I didn’t want to bring this up, but if it were just about having a child, we could manage—we wouldn’t let my wife and child go hungry. But now, with the state promoting family planning, this isn’t my first child anymore—I have to pay a fine.”

Lao Mouzi paused, then looked directly at Zhang Weiping: “I, Zhang Yimou, can be poor—but I must live with dignity. I can’t be the one to break national policy!”

Zhang Weiping was momentarily stunned by Lao Mouzi’s gaze—he wondered if this was a veiled jab at him, or if the old man was using this as an excuse to force him to pay up.

But Zhang Weiping’s inner thoughts didn’t show on his face—he looked deeply moved, patted Lao Mouzi’s shoulder, and raised his thumb:

“Mouzi, you’re absolutely right! That’s truly admirable! I’m proud and honored to have a brother like you!”

Then Zhang Weiping widened his eyes, swore solemnly, and pounded his chest:

“Mouzi, don’t worry—I’ll handle everything for you, I’ll make sure it’s all taken care of!”

Lao Mouzi hesitated: “But…”

Zhang Weiping immediately countered: “What? You don’t trust your brother?”

Lao Mouzi quickly waved his hands: “No, Weiping, this is my personal matter, and the over-quota birth…”

Zhang Weiping cut him off loudly: “What personal matter? Do you still consider me your brother? Your problems are my problems!”

Zhang Weiping patted Lao Mouzi’s hand: “Besides, didn’t we agree years ago—you handle the art, I handle all the logistics and protect you? Haven’t we been doing this for years? Have I ever broken my word?”

Lao Mouzi shook his head: “Brother, you’ve always done well—I’m not doubting you. I just think it’s too much trouble for you to handle Chen Ting and me. I’ll pay the fine myself, and then everything will be…”

Zhang Weiping abruptly stood up, flinging Lao Mouzi’s hand away, feigning anger: “Mouzi, if you still call me brother, I’m taking charge of this!”

At these words, Lao Mouzi fell silent, then quickly grabbed Zhang Weiping’s arm: “Weiping, you’re definitely my brother!”

Zhang Weiping’s expression softened. “That’s better! Leave it to me.”

He added: “Chen Ting is only three months along—she won’t give birth until next March or April. Once our film is finished and we sell the rights, I’ll pay your fine the moment we get any income!”

“So right now, the most important thing is that you focus on making this film great!”

Lao Mouzi nodded in agreement.

After Zhang Weiping left, Lao Mouzi sighed—he knew the company had tied up all its money in “House of Flying Daggers,” and if not for the over-quota birth, he never would have asked for the money.

As for whether Zhang Weiping would deceive him, Lao Mouzi refused to believe it. Even though others had hinted at Zhang Weiping’s suspicious behavior, after eight years of unwavering support, care, and loyalty, he couldn’t believe his trusted brother would betray him.

……

Meanwhile, back in his room, Zhang Weiping’s face instantly darkened, his expression grim.

People always judge others by their own standards—he kept replaying the conversation, wondering if Lao Mouzi had used this excuse just to demand money.

He’d dodged it this time—but what about next time? What if he has another child? He’ll come back asking again.

But that wasn’t the main issue. For years, Lao Mouzi had always obeyed him, never questioned finances, and left everything in Zhang Weiping’s hands. But today, Lao Mouzi had repeatedly challenged his decisions and brought up money—this was a bad sign for Zhang Weiping.

What had Zhang Weiping originally valued in Lao Mouzi? Besides his extraordinary film talent, wasn’t it precisely that he was easy to control?

To achieve this control, he and his wife had worked hard to break up Lao Mouzi’s marriage with Gong Li—how could he allow Lao Mouzi to slip from his grasp?

Zhang Weiping paced back and forth, thinking of a strategy. Then he picked up his phone and called his wife:

“Hey, Mouzi’s wife—Chen Ting is pregnant. Take out 50,000 yuan and deliver it to her today. Also, spend more time with her, visit often, build a close bond—even move in with them if you can. Make her feel grateful, make her trust you completely.”

“Weiping, I’ve interacted with Chen Ting before—she’s not naive. I’m not sure this will work…”

Zhang Weiping frowned: “Try harder. Pregnancy is when women are most vulnerable—this is a perfect opportunity. Put in the effort; it might work. If it doesn’t, do what we did before—engineer a divorce between them!”

“I know this old man too well—he values his reputation above all. He’s about to have his second child, yet he hides it from everyone, refuses to register their marriage, and lets Chen Ting live without any legal status. Don’t you think she must harbor resentment?”

And there’s his daughter—he’s still hiding the truth from her, pretending to be a good father, ha!

With all these family secrets, if we play our cards right, separating them won’t be hard!”

“Alright, Weiping, I’ll go over there right away.”

After hanging up, Zhang Weiping still felt it wasn’t enough—he needed another plan to make Lao Mouzi feel threatened, to cut off all his trust in others, so that when Zhang Weiping stepped in to “rescue” him, Lao Mouzi would have no choice but to rely on him alone!

……

Wu Yuchen didn’t care at all about the troubles facing the “House of Flying Daggers” crew. His full attention was on “Pirate King,” now entering its final shooting phase.

But Wu Yuchen received a call from home: “Director Wu, can you return by December this year?”

Wu Yuchen thought for a moment: “December? I can’t promise, but I’ll try. What’s going on?”

According to the current schedule, filming should wrap by the end of November. But he couldn’t be sure—such a large crew could face delays from accidents, like a lead actor getting injured…

So Wu Yuchen couldn’t give a definite answer. Even if filming finished, he’d still need to oversee post-production. Unless it was absolutely necessary, he didn’t want to waste time and energy on a round trip.

He wanted to finish post-production on “Pirate King 2” before the New Year and return home for a peaceful holiday.

“Director Wu, you’ve been selected as one of this year’s Ten Outstanding Youth of China—you’re a top contender and likely to win. The award ceremony will probably be in December, and we hope you can attend.”

Hearing “Ten Outstanding Youth of China,” Wu Yuchen understood its weight—it was a major state-sponsored event, with top officials expected to attend.

Wu Yuchen asked: “Can you confirm the exact date?”

“Director Wu, we can’t give you the exact date yet—it depends on the leaders’ schedules. Usually, it’s held at the end of December or early January. The final list of winners is typically announced by the end of November.”

Wu Yuchen now understood the timeline. He replied: “In that case, I should be able to return. Please notify me immediately once the date is confirmed.”

“Of course! We’ll contact you right away if you can make it!”

After hanging up, Wu Yuchen smiled. Ten Outstanding Youth of China—he never imagined he’d earn such an honor.

Though this title might not directly help his filmmaking career, it sounded impressive.

And he knew his parents would be overjoyed when he told them.