Chapter 20: The Young, the Old, the Sick, and the Disabled

Given Ge You’s nature, he had planned to mull over a few days before paying a visit, but to his surprise, Chen Qi proactively invited him to a small dinner the very next day.

Ge You took it seriously and even washed his hair.

At dinner time, he nervously knocked on Room 302. Chen Qi opened the door and said, “Hey, just in time! Come on in! I went home during the day, and my mom brought me some food. I figured I couldn’t finish it alone, so I invited you guys over. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Don’t say that. I’m the one disturbing you... Oh, Teacher Liang, hello!” Ge You remained polite. Liang Xiaosheng smiled warmly, “You’ll know him better if you spend more time with him. He’s the least fussy person, but always wears himself out being so serious. Come, sit here!”

Liang Xiaosheng helped prepare the food, opening several aluminum lunch boxes. “I begged the canteen master chef to warm these up specially. Chen Qi found a little shop outside and even brought some wine. Can you drink a bit?”

“I can have a few sips!” Ge You’s eyes lit up. He was fond of good liquor. Seeing the dishes, his eyes sparkled even more—there was meat and dumplings.

The table was turned sideways, two sat on the bed and one on a chair. They used enamel mugs as wine cups, each poured about two taels.

Chen Qi chuckled, “I’ve saved up nearly forty yuan, and this is the first time I’m spending it. That little shop is also a youth cooperative, selling some bulk liquor, but I don’t know how it tastes.

“Come on, don’t be formal. Let’s eat!”

In those days, having a good meal wasn’t easy. Chen Qi stayed away from home, and only got this kind of treat when he returned. Liang Xiaosheng’s family situation was even tougher; they saved every penny.

Thus, for a while, they all focused on working hard.

After eating for a bit, they started to relax and chat. Fueled by the wine, their talk wandered aimlessly. It didn’t hold much meaning, but for men, drinking and bragging were part of life’s joy.

The conversation eventually turned to Ge You’s work.

His mood instantly sank. He despondently said, “I’ve taken exams for many positions but failed them all. The commune where I was sent still wants me back, saying the pigs I fed miss me—both big and little ones.

“Sigh, I’ve lived twenty-two years in vain; only the pigs remember me.”

“Don’t say that. When Heaven is about to place a great responsibility upon a man, it first tests his will. Didn’t your parents try to find something for you?” Liang Xiaosheng said gently.

“They want to recruit for the National Federation’s Art Troupe, but there’s an exam. My dad is now teaching me acting hand in hand and even picked a piece for me called ‘Feeding Pigs,’ saying it’s close to life. Honestly, I know I can’t do anything else but feed pigs.”

“Then why don’t you perform it for us? Let us see.”

“No, no, that won’t do. I’d be too embarrassed!” Ge You waved his hands anxiously.

“Though we just met, I hope you don’t mind me saying this,” Chen Qi interjected. “I think your mindset is off. If you feel embarrassed to perform in front of us, how can you act in front of the judges? You don’t have a relaxed attitude; subconsciously, you think it’s shameful. How can you pass the exam like that?”

“I... I...” Ge You wanted to argue but quickly gave up, discouraged. “Maybe you’re right. I’m also nervous. I rehearse well at home but don’t know what to do once there.”

“Then try to calm yourself down. For example, deep breathing helps me relax,” Liang Xiaosheng suggested.

“I tried. It doesn’t work.”

“Well, then...” Liang Xiaosheng scratched his head. As a literary man, he wasn’t versed in performance.

“Everyone gets nervous during exams; that’s just how it is.”

Chen Qi spoke up, then added, “But you can try forced relaxation through exercise—marching in place, doing calisthenics, jogging a few laps—just get your body moving.”

“Does that help?” Ge You asked skeptically.

“You’ve run before, right? Although you’re tired afterward, doesn’t it also make you feel lighter and even satisfied?”

“Seems like it.”

“So, you might want to give it a try. It can somewhat relieve your tension.”

This is because exercise produces endorphins and dopamine, which make the body feel more comfortable and create a sense of accomplishment. But Chen Qi didn’t bother to explain further. Raising his enamel mug, he said, “Here’s to your exam success!”

“No problem!” Liang Xiaosheng chimed in.

“...”

Bolstered by the wine, Ge You’s eyes nearly welled up with tears, emotions rising. “Thanks for your good wishes. I’ll definitely pass this time. If I don’t, I’ll owe you both!”

The three drank together.

Friendship was forged in these moments.

Chen Qi was deliberately nurturing this bond. Having spent some time at the Beijing Film Studio, he was smooth but hadn’t made many friends. Most were seasoned veterans, middle-aged like Jiang Huaiyan, or tough characters like Liu Xiaoqing.

He was too young; everyone saw him as a child.

Liang Xiaosheng and Ge You were more approachable, along with that young girl.

Tsk!

Chen Qi took a sip of wine and glanced at the few heads around—old, young, sick, and disabled.

...

Chen Qi arrived in mid-April; it was already early May.

This meant he had to finish revising the script.

Today was Tuesday. Every Tuesday afternoon was reserved for unit-wide study sessions—work and production stopped, and schools didn’t hold classes. This tradition had lasted many years. Later, when televisions became common, TV stations chose Tuesday for maintenance.

So, on this afternoon, there was no programming, just the “colorful disk” on the screen, officially called the PM5544 TV test card.

Afternoon.

The sunlight grew stronger, signaling early summer.

Chen Qi took a short nap, then grabbed the now rather thick script and went to Jiang Huaiyan’s office. Upon entering, Jiang Huaiyan was absent, but his daughter sat inside, snacking on sunflower seeds while doing homework.

“Brother Chen!” she greeted.

“Where’s your dad?”

“He’s at a meeting. It’ll be over soon.”

Jiang Shan looked at the script in his hands. “Is this the script you wrote? Dad said it’s a love story. Can I see it?”

“You’re just a kid. What do you know about love? That’s all bourgeois stuff.”

“Bourgeois? Hmph. I’m even learning English! Does that count as bourgeois?” She waved her textbook, which turned out to be an English primer.

“You guys already have English classes?”

“Our school is a pilot program!”

Last year, the Ministry of Education advocated introducing foreign language lessons starting from third grade but hadn’t widely promoted it yet; it was still in trial.

Chen Qi was unaware of this and only expressed surprise. Sitting in the chair waiting for Jiang Huaiyan, who still hadn’t appeared, he grew bored and glanced at the girl focused on her homework. Suddenly he asked, “Have you learned the word for pig?”

“Of course! Pig!”

“How about dog?”

“Dog!”

“Chicken?”

“Chicken... oh, chicken!”

“How do you say beautiful?”

“Ha! You can’t stump me. Beautiful!”

“How about ‘chicken is beautiful’? Can you translate that?”

Jiang Shan frowned, trying, “Chicken is beautiful?”

“Ah, when translating, we pursue faithfulness, expressiveness, and elegance. This sentence could be translated as...”

Before Chen Qi could jokingly criticize, Jiang Huaiyan’s footsteps sounded at the door.

“Oh, Chen, you’re here. The whole factory had a meeting this afternoon, and each department did too. We just finished.”

“I just arrived. Here’s the script.”

“Shan Shan, go do your homework outside.”

“Oh!”

Jiang Shan reluctantly grabbed her bag and left. Jiang Huaiyan took the script and examined it carefully. After a pause, he nodded, “The revisions are good. Your writing hits the points we suggested.

“Personally, I think it’s qualified.

“But factory rules require the entire editorial department to review it collectively, and then the deputy director responsible for this area does the final check to decide if it passes. Don’t worry; it should be fine.

“We’ll keep the script for now.”

Jiang Huaiyan smiled, “Chen, you’re young, so people might underestimate you. I didn’t expect you to have such insight with words.”

“It’s all thanks to the teachers’ guidance. I just have strong execution.”

“Strong execution? That’s a new phrase. Alright, go on back. I’ll get in touch with you later.”

“Okay!”

Chen Qi left the office and saw Jiang Shan standing in the corridor, leaning on the windowsill doing homework.

She was twelve years old, not tall, with a big bone structure. She hadn’t yet blossomed in childhood and wasn’t particularly outstanding.

But Chen Qi knew what she would become—a big face, prominent features, naturally free of petty airs. This type of actress was very rare, and in later generations, nearly extinct, replaced by those with small faces and delicate chins.

He sneakily crept close and suddenly shouted, “Ha!”

“Mommy!”

Jiang Shan jumped three feet high, spun around to scold, but Chen Qi had already vanished.

She went back inside, fuming, “Dad, that guy is so annoying.”

“He’s not much older than you. He’s just teasing. He’s good at writing; you should learn from him when you have time,” Jiang Huaiyan said. To him, Chen Qi, at nineteen, was still a child.

“I don’t want to learn from him! I’m going to the Foreign Languages Institute!”

Jiang Shan huffed and continued her homework.

After a while, Jiang Huaiyan left on business, and she suddenly heard sneaky footsteps outside. That annoying guy was back but didn’t enter. He just tossed a few candies over—these were stockpiled sweets given to him by Yu Xiuli. “Have some candy. Study hard!”

Then he slipped away.

Jiang Shan looked at the candies—Red Shrimp Crisp from the capital, thin and crispy skin, distinct layers of filling, quite tasty.

She hesitated but peeled one open and popped it into her mouth.

“Hmph! Free candy is the best!”

(End)