Chapter 00215: The Overseas Chinese from America
# The Overseas Chinese from America
Chapter 215
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 215: The Overseas Chinese from America
The weather was getting hotter.
All the windows in Room 302 were open, and a fan Chen Qi had bought himself stood on the floor, buzzing noisily.
The room felt much more spacious now—the old books and two chairs had been moved to Lechun Alley.
He had already decided to go to Hong Kong in August and had exchanged several letters with Fu Qi.
Fu Qi briefly mentioned the situation with the leftist factions.
The two films Deadly Turns and The Descent had brought in nearly eight million in box office revenue for Great Wall, keeping them afloat.
Meanwhile, the other two studios, Phoenix and Sun Luen, were still struggling, barely surviving on the meager earnings from Tai Chi.
He continued petitioning the central government to consolidate the leftist forces instead of keeping them scattered.
The central authorities had already indicated they were considering it.
"..."
Chen Qi bent over his desk, writing a reply.
Just as he finished and was sealing the envelope with a stamp, there came a knock at the door—dong dong dong—followed by Liang Xiaosheng’s voice: "Xiao Chen, I brought some people for you!"
"Coming, coming!"
He hurried to open the door.
Liang Xiaosheng led four young people inside, instantly making the room feel cramped.
"Hello, President Chen!"
The four greeted him in unison, their eyes full of curiosity as they sized him up.
Chen Qi studied them too—two men and two women, dressed in shabby clothes that spoke of poverty, but their eyes were clear, with the air of educated people.
The two men introduced themselves first, followed by the women:
"My name is Bai Xuejia. I hope you’ll give me a chance!"
"I’m Dai Hanhan. I’ve studied art, so naturally, I’d be an art editor!"
Dai Hanhan was a chubby, cute girl with two braids and glasses—one of the arms was broken and held together with tape.
Liang Xiaosheng said, "They’re all educated youth who returned to the city and formed a literary club. They’ve submitted work to New Film Works, and I’ve given them a few lectures. They’re good young people—skilled writers, progressive thinkers, and quick to adapt to new things."
"..."
Chen Qi smiled and asked, "Do you like martial arts stories?"
"Yes!"
"Love them!"
The four answered eagerly.
"Do you enjoy strange and unusual tales?"
"Yes! Absolutely!"
"Good. Then each of you write me a ghost story as your entrance test."
"Huh?"
The four were dumbfounded.
He had asked about martial arts and unusual stories, only to tell them to write ghost stories? They had come prepared for martial arts writing, not ghost tales!
Ignoring their reactions, Chen Qi pressed on.
Ghost stories were taboo these days—if they could write them well, that would truly prove their skill.
After asking a few more questions, he finally said, "Which of you needs housing?"
Whoosh!
All four raised their hands.
"My family of seven lives in one room. I sleep on the floor. I don’t have many demands—I just want a little more space when I’m lying down."
"I have two younger brothers, two younger sisters, plus my grandparents. My grandparents and brothers share one room, while my parents, sisters, and I share another. The three of us sisters squeeze onto one small bed. If I could have even a single bed in an eight-person dorm, I’d take it."
The mood instantly turned heavy.
Everyone started talking over each other, each story more pitiful than the last.
Chen Qi’s face darkened. Damn, are they here for housing or a job? He raised a hand.
"Stop, stop! Pass the test first, and then we’ll talk about your needs!"
After chatting a while longer, the four left.
Liang Xiaosheng saw them out but didn’t forget to turn back and add, "Don’t forget about me. You’ve got to find me a place too. I can handle a double room, but anything more than that is pushing it."
"Get lost! How’d you survive the military barracks?"
Chen Qi shooed him out, then sat down, rubbing his face in frustration. Damn it, this is exhausting.
Finding office space was easy, but housing? That was a nightmare.
Ordinary folks barely had enough room for themselves—where would they find extra space for others? That’s why he was endlessly grateful he had bought Lechun Alley in advance.
"Ugh, why do work units have to provide housing? Who came up with that rule?"
Chen Qi’s perspective was shaped by his position—those who didn’t manage things had no idea how hard it was.
He decided to step out, dropping the letter in the mailbox at the guardhouse for the postman to collect later.
Then he headed to the apartment building for some comfort.
"Huh? What brings you here all of a sudden?"
Gong Xue was studying the script for Mom, Love Me Again when he barged in, kicked off his shoes, and flopped onto her bed, groaning like a spoiled child.
"I don’t want to do business anymore. I don’t want to be a boss. Employee quotas, residency permits, salaries, benefits, food rations, housing… Every morning I wake up feeling like I owe someone two thousand yuan. I’m done for. I’m depressed…"
"You!"
Gong Xue burst out laughing and sat beside him, stroking his face.
"Your company barely has any people yet, and you’re already this stressed?"
"The magazine alone needs at least five, right? Ji Chunhua can’t stay in a guesthouse forever, right? There’s also that director I’ve got my eye on—if I recruit him, I’ll need to house him too. Then there’s Xiong Xinxin, Sun Jiankui, Li Jianqun, Hu Weili… I want to poach them all."
"Who?"
Gong Xue suddenly pinched his ear, smiling sweetly.
"Who did you just say?"
"Li Jianqun. I need a costume designer!"
Chen Qi admitted without hesitation, then sighed.
"Let me think… At minimum, I need housing for seven or eight people. Thank goodness my courtyard is big enough."
"Will you even have space left for yourself?"
"Of course. The front courtyard is for them. The back is my private living area. It’s my house, after all—I’m not going to suffer just to accommodate others. Then I’ve got to produce results fast, apply for land, and build my own place so everyone can take a proper crap indoors."
"I don’t really understand all this, and I can’t help much. But since you look so stressed, let me give you a massage. Come here…"
Gong Xue had him shift positions, then sat on a chair by the bed and gently pressed her fingers to his temples, massaging in slow circles.
They chatted for a bit, but soon, his breathing evened out—he had fallen asleep.
"Sigh… He’s really under so much pressure."
Gong Xue leaned down and brushed her lips against his forehead.
…………
Chen Qi finally received a response regarding his request to Liao Gong.
His idea had been to find an overseas Chinese from America who could act as a bridge.
Liao Gong did recommend someone, but the name nearly gave Chen Qi a heart attack.
This person was also surnamed Chen—Chen Xiangmei!
Her maternal grandfather was Liao Zhongkai’s brother, making her Liao Gong’s cousin’s daughter.
Chen Xiangmei’s husband was Chennault—the famous Flying Tigers commander, the one who rode in a Studebaker.
She had worked for three U.
S. presidents—Kennedy, Nixon, and Reagan—had visited Beijing, and played a role in establishing Sino-American relations as a semi-official goodwill ambassador.
Regardless of personal opinions about her, she held considerable influence in America.
Liao Gong recommending her left Chen Qi unsure.
He had just wanted to find a few American actors for a film—he hadn’t expected a heavyweight to get involved.
After discussing it with the Ministry of Culture’s leadership, they pointed out that Chen Xiangmei was herself a writer, having published many articles in the U.
S.
She was a cultural figure with connections in film circles and knew the industry well.
Moreover, Liao Gong seemed particularly interested in Chen Qi’s idea of Sino-American co-productions.
This might have been his way of introducing them so they could collaborate on future projects.
Hearing this, Chen Qi finally relaxed.
Of course, reaching her from the mainland was impossible—he’d have to wait until he got to Hong Kong.
(Thanks to Hei Ye for the Silver-tier support!
That’s all for now…
After reviewing the title suggestions, I’ve narrowed it down to two: The Vast World or Strange Tales.
Let’s put it to a vote—which one do you prefer?)
(End of Chapter)