Chapter 00259: All Preparations Complete
# All Preparations Complete
Chapter 259
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 259: All Preparations Complete
The Xinhua Bookstore secured their stock at half price—their distribution channels were formidable, giving them the upper hand.
The Educated Youth Cooperative got theirs at sixty percent off.
Since the magazines were small with thin profit margins and the cooperative had almost no overhead costs, this was practically free money for them, so naturally, they charged a bit more.
Beijing had a population of 9.19 million, and these cooperatives were scattered across every street and alley in the districts, covering almost the entire city.
They were even more effective than the Xinhua Bookstore, though the actual conversion rate of readers might not be as high.
Those who frequented bookstores were definitely more likely to make a purchase in the end.
Chen Qi also approached Yu Jiajia to inquire about advertising prices in the *China Youth Daily*.
To his shock, it cost tens of thousands.
Gritting his teeth, he decided to go for it anyway and allocated some additional funds to *World Wonders*.
Zheng Yuanjie’s *Fairy Tale King* had only 5,000 yuan in startup capital, while *Ancient and Modern Legends* had 30,000.
*World Wonders* was already operating on a very lavish budget.
Chen Jianjun was kept busy, reaching out to sales agents in Beijing, Tianjin, Hebei, Shanxi, and other areas to help his son promote the magazine.
Some placed orders for a few hundred copies, others for a few hundred more.
The initial numbers weren’t huge, but if sales went well, they could always replenish stock later.
Sunday, a day off.
The team at Lechun Workshop didn’t go out to relax.
Instead, everyone—including Ji Chunhua and Li Jianqun—gathered in the office, eyes fixed on the television.
"Lang Ping! It’s Lang Ping again!"
"China scores! If we defeat Japan, we’ll win the championship in this Women’s Volleyball World Cup!"
This was a delayed broadcast.
Everyone’s emotions rose and fell with Song Shixiong’s passionate commentary, though in reality, they already knew the outcome from the newspapers.
Chen Qi and Liang Xiaosheng sat to the side, tallying up the magazine orders from bookstores across the country, occasionally glancing at the TV.
This was the Women’s Volleyball World Cup held in Japan.
China had secured its first world championship in the three major ball sports.
Statistics showed that across seven matches, the Chinese team had spiked the ball 1,116 times, with Lang Ping alone accounting for 407 spikes and scoring 79 points.
The "Iron Hammer" had made her name.
In the early days of reform and opening up, the country was poor, and its confidence in facing the world was shaky.
Sports became one of the most effective ways to boost national pride and spirit.
The obsession with gold medals persisted for decades.
While later generations still valued them, the intensity of the 80s and 90s was unmatched.
By then, China had grown so open and inclusive that even the Paris Olympics opening ceremony received official respect—ironically, it was the West itself that ended up criticizing it, cramming in every possible element just to provoke.
"Spike!"
"Great shot!"
"China wins! China takes the championship!"
"Whoo!"
Everyone burst into applause, exhilarated.
Chen Qi understood perfectly.
This championship was of monumental significance, enough to mark a historic milestone—something later portrayed in films like *My People, My Country* and *Leap*.
"Alright, alright, settle down!"
He motioned for everyone to focus on him.
"Lao Liang and I have tallied up the orders from bookstores across the country. Total subscriptions for *World Wonders*... just over 30,000 copies."
"What? That few?"
"I thought it’d be at least 50,000!"
"Quiet, quiet!"
Seeing their disappointment, Chen Qi chuckled.
"It’s normal for a debut issue. Once the *China Youth Daily* ads go live and the magazine starts circulating, more orders will come in. Have faith in our work."Who’s handling the printing house?""Me!"An editor raised his hand."Everyone’s going to have to push through this stretch.
We’re short-staffed and don’t have dedicated distribution personnel yet, so we’ll all need to pitch in.
Once we clear this hurdle, we’ll celebrate properly—bonuses included!"After a brief meeting, everything was set. All that remained was for the magazine to hit the shelves. But Liang Xiaosheng pulled him aside and whispered,"The New Year’s in January.""Yeah, what about it?""What do you mean, ‘what about it’? We’re a proper workplace—are we getting any Spring Festival benefits?""..."Chen Qi blinked, then smacked his lips."There’s such a thing as Spring Festival benefits?"Seeing Liang Xiaosheng about to lose his temper, he laughed."We don’t even have a labor union—no one’s handling that.
Why don’t you swing by the Beijing Film Studio and see what they’re giving out? Grab a few extra for us while you’re at it.
We’re a small team anyway.""Guess that’ll have to do."Liang Xiaosheng shook his head. Lately, he’d been oscillating between regret and no regret. With no management experience, suddenly being thrust into a leadership role left him drowning in trivialities and frustrations. ———— Meanwhile, December arrived in the blink of an eye. The China Film Group’s fourth-quarter screening session proceeded as scheduled. The fourth-quarter screenings were for films slated for release in the first quarter of the following year. Representatives from provincial film companies across the country gathered in Beijing, first inquiring about *Tai Chi 2*. When they learned post-production wasn’t finished and it wasn’t on the list, their disappointment was palpable. *Tai Chi* was still showing in some areas, with solid attendance rates—especially in rural regions, where people would trek miles to neighboring villages just to catch a screening. To put it in perspective, last year’s *Romance on Lushan Mountain* was still playing in some places."This one’s not bad—better than yesterday’s!""Since when does Shanghai Film Studio make martial arts films? How many is this now?""That’s a *wuxia* film! *Wuxia*’s all the rage now.
Who’d turn their nose up at audience demand?"The film being screened was Shanghai Film Studio’s *Invincible Mandarin Ducks Leg*. The representatives began filling out order forms, submitting their numbers for China Film’s tally. Never mind that China Film had been humiliated and pummeled by Chen Qi earlier in the year. With thick enough skin, they remained the monopoly they’d always been."*Invincible Mandarin Ducks Leg*—35mm prints, 308 copies total!"A murmur rippled through the crowd. These past few days, *wuxia* films had dominated the screenings. It was as if all the studios had conspired, green-eyed over *Tai Chi*’s success, and gone all-in on the genre. Unfortunately, most were terrible—lacking in both acting and action, utterly devoid of excitement. The worst offenders even borrowed moves from Chinese opera, making the fights look like stage performances. Seriously? The representatives struggled to stay awake. So far, only *Invincible Mandarin Ducks Leg* and Xi’an Film Studio’s *The Soccer Heroes* had met decent standards. *The Soccer Heroes*’ print orders also surpassed 300."Let’s take a break.
There’s just one film left... um, this is a co-production with our Hong Kong counterparts.
Took three years to complete—*The Shaolin Temple*, starring Jet Li."Jet Li? Hearing that name, everyone perked up."Just screen it now—we don’t mind!""Go ahead!"And so, *The Shaolin Temple* made its debut before the assembled crowd. Historically, *The Shaolin Temple* had premiered in Hong Kong before reaching the mainland. But now, overshadowed by other releases, its presence had dwindled to near-invisibility. Yet its quality remained high. The breathtaking landscapes, moving score, and a cast nearly identical to *Tai Chi*’s had everyone spellbound. But upon reflection and quiet comparison, subtle differences emerged. *The Shaolin Temple* excelled in every aspect—except for its fight choreography. Though each move was executed with precision and beauty, they felt... weightless. A punch thrown on-screen lacked impact. At times, it didn’t even seem to connect, yet the opponent would cry out as if gravely injured. In short, it lacked a sense of physicality. *Tai Chi*, having set the standard, had emphasized this very sense of impact—every strike landing with a visceral *crack*, delivering pure satisfaction."..."The representatives exchanged knowing looks, filled out their forms, and handed them in. When China Film’s staff saw the numbers, they weren’t surprised."*The Shaolin Temple*—35mm prints, 410 copies total!"
(That’s it!
We’ve already lost power here, and water’s getting cut at 11. This second chapter was typed out on my phone.
Our neighborhood’s flooded.
At noon, I waded out to check on my car—thankfully, it’s parked high enough to avoid water damage.
Whew~)
(End of chapter.)