Chapter 00271: A Place to Call Home
# A Place to Call Home
Chapter 271
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 271: A Place to Call Home
"Xue-jie? Xue-jie?"
"Baobao?"
"Darling! I'm about to leave, what are you doing?"
"What nonsense are you shouting?!"
Early in the morning, Chen Qi stood neatly dressed in the living room, calling out randomly.
Gong Xue emerged from the master bedroom, slightly embarrassed, holding a freshly extinguished candle in one hand and a warmed medicinal plaster in the other.
"Lift your shirt!" she said.
"What for?"
"Haven’t you been feeling a chill in your stomach these past few days? This will fix it. I bought it specially."
"Does this thing even work?"
Though skeptical, Chen Qi lifted his sweater and pulled up his undershirt, revealing his youthful, toned torso.
Gong Xue pressed the plaster firmly onto his navel.
"Ah!"
"It’s a bit hot—hold still!"
"A bit hot? More like a surge of warmth rising from my dantian, coursing through my meridians! I can feel the qi circulating, spiritual energy burgeoning—my divine cultivation is about to break through!"
"Stop spouting nonsense. Alright, hurry up and go!"
Gong Xue saw him off at the side gate.
"I’m heading back to the factory later for a meeting. I’ll come by tonight."
"Got it. I’m off then!"
Chen Qi glanced at her, suddenly pulled her in for a kiss, then dashed off on his bicycle before she could react.
Gong Xue let out a soft huff.
The Spring Festival had passed, and Gong Xue had just returned from visiting family.
They hadn’t spent much time together before Chen Qi had to leave for Hong Kong.
It left her a little frustrated, but he’d mentioned that a new production would start in the second half of the year, meaning they’d be working together.
*Huff! Huff!*
Pedaling hard against the early spring wind, Chen Qi couldn’t deny the warmth radiating from his stomach—it really was quite comfortable.
Such was the fate of the Chinese people: perpetually plagued by ailments—dampness to dispel, internal heat to cool, kidneys to nourish, toxins to purge, chills to warm…
By the spring of 1982, subtle changes had begun to ripple through the capital.
The streets remained wide, the buildings still low and shabby, but bicycles were multiplying, clothing was slowly brightening, and the occasional Datsun taxi could be spotted zipping past.
Datsun was a Japanese car, charging 40 cents per kilometer—its passengers mostly foreigners and overseas Chinese.
Being a taxi driver was a lucrative job back then.
In a few years, the fleet would upgrade to Fords, Bluebirds, and Crowns, costing 70-80 cents per kilometer.
After riding about five kilometers south, Chen Qi arrived at an area opposite Xidan Avenue—Erlong Road Subdistrict.
He found a hutong and spotted Li Mingfu waiting at the entrance.
"Uncle Li!"
"Ah, right on time! Let’s go take a look."
Pushing their bicycles side by side, Chen Qi glanced around.
"This area belongs to the Ministry of Education, doesn’t it? Do you have connections here?"
"No, no. I just grew up around Erlong Road."
Li Mingfu’s answer was vague.
As the appointed administrative head, his past was always shrouded in mystery.
Passing the Ministry of Education dormitories, they turned into a narrow alley and stopped before a large courtyard.
A sign at the gate read: *Erlong Road Subdistrict Arts and Crafts Factory!*
An elderly woman greeted them warmly.
"Lao Li, always so punctual!"
Li Mingfu chuckled and introduced them.
"This is Comrade Chen Qi. And this is Subdistrict Cadre Zhao—just call her Auntie Zhao."
"Auntie Zhao!"
Chen Qi grinned.
A subdistrict cadre doubling as an auntie was a perfect match.
As they walked inside, Chen Qi peeked into one of the workshops—a few master craftsmen were teaching young apprentices to paint decorative eggs and sculpt clay figurines.
"These crafts are for export, right?"
"Sharp as ever! Truly a capable young man!"
Auntie Zhao beamed.
"A couple of years ago, when the call went out to employ idle youth, our subdistrict recruited retired masters to start this factory. We specialize in painted eggs and clay sculptures. Last year, we earned over a hundred thousand USD in foreign exchange!"
"Wow, that’s impressive!"
Chen Qi was genuinely awed.
A hundred thousand USD might not sound like much, but their overhead was low, and exports were steady—unlike filmmaking.
"Honestly, we’re not short on funds. But since Lao Li came to me, I couldn’t refuse."
Weaving through the compound, they passed through a moon gate into a secluded courtyard filled with a dozen or so dilapidated rooms.
"This year, we took in another batch of unemployed youth. Some have no homes at all. We were planning to renovate this courtyard to house them temporarily."
Auntie Zhao got straight to the point.
"Since you also need space, here’s the deal: you handle the repairs, and half the rooms are yours—consider it a rental."
"Let us discuss this first. One moment."
Chen Qi pulled Li Mingfu aside.
"No issues later, right? What if I fix the place up and they renege?"
"Are you doubting me? I vouch for this!"
"How long’s the lease? Any progress on the land?"
"I’ve been making connections. Over the holidays, I even visited some key people. But land is tight—it’s tough. However..."
Li Mingfu’s eyes gleamed.
"I’ve found the perfect spot, right under our noses!"
"Where?"
"Beijing Film Studio!"
"There’s no vacant land left there!" Chen Qi frowned.
"Tsk!"
Li Mingfu grew animated.
"I’ve scoured every inch of the studio. Seems full, but there’s potential! Take the orchard west of the main gate—clear it, and we can build!"
"Hold on, let me think."
Chen Qi mentally mapped the studio’s layout.
West of the gate—yes, there was an orchard.
But he didn’t recall any buildings there.
What became of it later?
Suddenly, it hit him. *Rongning Mansion!*
When the TV adaptation of *Dream of the Red Chamber* was filming, Xie Tieli, a director at the studio, wanted to make a film version too.
He spent 3 million to build Rongning Mansion, which later became a filming location for other productions.
The studio had also built a film-themed tourist park, hoping to cash in on visitors.
But history had other plans—it was eventually absorbed into China Film Group.
"If we build there, Rongning Mansion might never exist..."
Chen Qi pondered.
In his view, the studio’s *Dream of the Red Chamber* was a money pit—eight films, 12 million spent, with dismal returns and nowhere near the TV series’ impact.
"Who spends 12 million on *Dream of the Red Chamber*? With that money, we could’ve built an entire film lot!"
As a longtime fixture at the studio, he still felt some loyalty—especially considering Wang Yang’s influence.
"Deal! That’s the spot! I leave it to you!"
"Don’t worry. As for this courtyard—three years?"
"Done!"
After finalizing the details, they returned to Auntie Zhao.
"If Uncle Li vouches for it, I trust it. Truth is, our unit’s planning to build dormitories. Renting here is temporary."
Chen Qi added earnestly, "I promise we won’t overstay. And as someone of integrity, I hope you won’t go back on the agreement."
"Of course! With Lao Li’s word, it’s settled!"
The deal was struck: the Eastern Factory (their team) would handle renovations in exchange for seven rooms, leased for three years.
Seven rooms could comfortably house fourteen people—or squeeze in twenty-eight if needed.
More recruits could join now.
Eager to move into a proper apartment with a bathroom, Li Mingfu had thrown himself into the task.
As Chen Qi left, he glanced back—Li was still deep in conversation with Auntie Zhao.
Clearly, there was history there.
That evening, after one last night at home, Chen Qi set off the next morning.
(End of Chapter)