My 1995 Small Farm.

Chapter 345 Iron Man is a hipster

Zhou Weijun is a writer, screenwriter, and art film director.

Hearing that he had so many identities, not to mention others, even Chen Ling was startled.

When he corresponded with this guy, he only thought he was a food writer.

Initially, he published articles about food.

Chen Ling was certainly quite interested in discussing food, and sent several letters in a row.

Little did they know that Zhou Weijun had so many identities.

"Haha, as they say, seeing is believing. If I hadn't made a special trip to meet you, I wouldn't have known you were so young, Brother Chen, or that you had such a big reputation in this area."

Zhou Weijun was a stylish middle-aged man, wearing a black leather jacket, with a sparse beard, neatly combed hair, and deep-set eyes. He looked like a domestic version of the actor who played Iron Man, only with a more refined demeanor.

His unique appearance made a deep impression on Chen Ling after just one glance.

"What title? It's just that people like to gossip about me."

Chen Ling shook her head and poured him a cup of tea.

Wang Susu and the other two didn't know what to say to him, so after greeting him, they stayed for a while and then went to the farm.

Let Chen Ling and Zhou Weijun talk at home first.

"This is no exaggeration. To be able to make a name for yourself in this remote mountain village, Brother Chen is truly young and promising, quite remarkable."

Before coming to Chen Ling's house, Zhou Weijun had asked the villagers about many things, and he was quite surprised after hearing them.

They then asked Chen Ling why he didn't go out and make his own way in the world.

Chen Ling has been asked this question by many people, and he answers it the same way he always has.

"Brother Zhou's sudden visit caught me a bit off guard. If I had known you were coming, we would have cooked several more tables of dishes today so that you, a great director, could have a taste."

"Haha, you little rascal, you know me well. I've been wanting to catch you off guard. Your letter sounds very plausible, I need to check it myself to see if it's true..."

The two had been corresponding and communicating online for a long time, and they quickly became acquainted after meeting. Zhou Weijun didn't stand on ceremony with Chen Ling, and they spoke as if they were old friends.

Chen Ling knew he was joking, but thinking that his brother had traveled a long way and he had forgotten to ask if he had eaten, he immediately slapped his forehead: "Oh dear, what a coincidence, we just finished lunch. Have you eaten? If not, I'll make you something."

"No need, no need, I've already eaten. On the way here, I specifically bought the local beef that you highly recommended, and it tastes quite good."

Zhou Weijun pressed him into a chair and made him sit down. He then said, "I didn't come here just to mooch a meal from you. I came with a mission. We're filming a movie, and we need to find suitable locations. As soon as I left, I thought of your place. The photos you sent me last year were so beautiful, with stunning scenery that they left a deep impression on me."

"Since the New Year is over, I'm also going on a trip. Let's meet up, my pen pal!"

Upon hearing this, Chen Ling repeatedly agreed.

Later, they served him persimmons and other treats.

This thing is worthless to people in the mountains, and it's hard to sell even in the market.

But people who live in the city for a long time really enjoy eating this.

Among the local specialties that Chen Ling mailed to her pen pals before the Lunar New Year, dried persimmons were the most popular.

There's no such thing as a gourmand yet, but Zhou Weijun can publish several articles about food in his spare time, so calling him a gourmand wouldn't be an exaggeration.

He ate three dried persimmons in one go, then let out a satisfied sigh: "The same dried persimmons, but eating them at your house feels different than eating them at my house, I don't know why."

"Ha, this must be because it's fresh. It was sent to you from so far away, how could it taste the same as eating it here on the spot?"

Chen Ling poured him another cup of hot tea: "Eat only a couple of persimmons. Eating too many of these will upset your stomach. I'll give you plenty to take with you when you leave."

How could we let this "Iron Man" pen pal get a stomachache on his first visit?

"Okay, then I won't eat it."

Zhou Weijun patted his belly, then his gaze suddenly lingered on Chen Ling's clothes: "Brother, your leather jacket is quite unique."

"Of course it's special, it's made of deerskin."

"Wow, deerskin."

Zhou Weijun reached out and touched it. "I heard from the villagers that you are skilled in hunting and trading. Did you hunt the deer yourself?"

"I definitely hunted them myself. There were sika deer, grass deer, and red muntjacs. This is a fur coat made from the skin of a red muntjac."

"Huh? I've only ever heard of sika deer. What are red muntjac and grass deer? I've really never heard of them."

"Red muntjac is the same as yellow muntjac. Grass deer is a kind of wild deer that lives here. It is smaller than sika deer and about the size of a sheep. It looks like a roe deer from Northeast China, but it is not as silly as a roe deer. It is much smarter than a roe deer."

Their meats each have their own unique flavor, especially deer lips, which are among the eight delicacies of wild game—tsk tsk, they're incredibly delicious!

Zhou Weijun's eyes lit up when he heard this, "Do you still have any venison left at home?"

"They're all gone. They were all eaten before the Lunar New Year."

Chen Ling's words left Zhou Weijun deeply disappointed. He beat his chest in frustration, and his expression resembled that of Iron Man.

……

As the spring breeze brings warmth, groups of villagers irrigate the lush green wheat fields.

There has been little rain in early spring this year; not a single drop has fallen so far.

Crops cannot withstand drought, but grass grows lushly, with all kinds of grasses growing along the edge of the village, on both sides of the road, and on the slopes.

Walking along the path outside the village, the wind is filled with the fresh, tender scent of green grass.

Chen Ling led Zhou Weijun slowly toward the farm. The villagers were used to strangers coming to Chen Ling's house and greeted him as usual.

Zhou Weijun, however, stood with his arms outstretched, eyes squinting, somewhat intoxicated. A gentle spring breeze caressed his face, and as far as the eye could see, he saw the rural countryside. The scent of fresh grass filled his nostrils, and the babbling of irrigation water filled his ears. In this state of blissful comfort, he felt as if his body, which had been languishing all winter, had been rejuvenated. As a screenwriter…

As an art-house film director, although he is not very famous now and is not well known to the public, it is obvious that Zhou Weijun was once an art-house youth.

But now he's become a cultured middle-aged man.

Liang Yuemin is a typical example of "artsy syndrome".

Now there's just one more.

Chen Ling didn't mind.

Upon arriving at the farm, Zhou Weijun was quite impressed, as Chen Ling had never taken any photos of the farm before.

He repeatedly claimed that this place perfectly matched his aesthetic.

Some of his words were exactly the same as what Liang Yuemin said last spring.

Perhaps this is a common problem among artsy young people.

However, unlike Liang Yuemin, he wasn't particularly interested when Chen Ling showed him around the hunting equipment room, but he became very excited when he saw the cured meat, fish and other preserved meats hanging in Chen Ling's house, as well as the many wine jars stored in the warehouse.

He pulled Chen Ling aside and talked at length about the cured meat from which region, the wine from which region, and the characteristics of each, explaining everything in great detail.

Han Chuang and Jiang Xiaoqing were stunned, not knowing that there was so much knowledge involved in eating cured meat and drinking wine.

It seems this Iron Man is a combination of a pretentious intellectual and a glutton.

……

Chen Ling's family had guests, so Han Chuang and Jiang Xiaoqing wanted to go home early.

To everyone's surprise, Chen Ling didn't let him leave, saying that Han Chuang should stay overnight to keep the guests company.

The two thought that since they had nothing to do back home anyway, they might as well stay.

The evening featured a sumptuous farm-style meal, cooked by Chen Ling and Han Chuang. Zhou Weijun also wanted to join in, but Chen Ling didn't allow it, only letting Zhou Weijun assist the two of them.

At the dinner table that evening, the food tasted beyond Zhou Weijun's understanding of farm-style cuisine.

Zhou Weijun's drinking capacity also shocked Chen Ling and the other man; it was as if the wine vat had come to life.

As they toasted and drank, everyone started chatting, and Han Chuang, as the person accompanying them, naturally joined in the toasting and conversation.

Han Chuang has been going hiking with Chen Ling a lot lately, and when he gets drunk, he can't control his mouth and instinctively steers the conversation in that direction.

Zhou Weijun then realized how comfortable Chen Ling's life was at home.

No wonder the villagers spoke of Chen Ling with such envy and jealousy.

It turns out he made his money by walking his dog and hunting all day.

And they earn it so easily.

If it were him, he'd be envious too.

Who wouldn't want to live a relaxed and comfortable life, free from worries about food and clothing?
Unfortunately, everyone has their own expertise.

He didn't have Chen Ling's skills, nor such a powerful dog, nor wine that could fetch exorbitant prices; he could only look on with envy.

"That's amazing! You make money much easier than those Hong Kong celebrities, and you don't have to work so hard."

Zhou Weijun toasted Chen Ling with a glass of wine, then turned his gaze back to the two dogs: "I didn't expect your dogs to be so powerful, able to fight wolves and leopards. Just based on the stories Brother Han told me, I could write a TV series script."

They protected the village by fighting wolves, then wild boars, then leopards, and even developed a love-hate relationship with the wolves, producing offspring. Just like in the story of "The Call of the Wild," they injected new blood into the wolf pack, giving birth to a new and powerful wolf pack..."

"what?"

In the end, he himself was stunned, and actually thought the story was quite good.

However, Zhou Weijun's mind, which was used to being influenced by art films, felt that although the story was good and interesting to tell, it was not emotionally moving enough.

To evoke emotions, you need to involve people. People are the audience, and only when the audience empathizes with the film will it have depth.

Then it needs to be revised again, into a story of a loyal dog protecting its master, with a tragic ending.

The tragic cause? Zhou Weijun's gaze fell on those puppies. The first-generation wolfhounds, whose wolfish nature had not yet been extinguished, were an unstable factor. Adding them in and making slight modifications would create a good story and a good script.

"Brother Zhou, what are you daydreaming about? Aren't you supposed to be a heavy drinker? Come on, let's have a drink."

Chen Ling patted him on the shoulder, unaware that he had already come up with a TV series storyline in such a short time.

After having another drink, he continued, "Why bother making TV dramas? You should just stick to being an art-house film director."

"What? Art films are for winning awards. If you want to make money, you don't make those. I've been trying to switch genres for the past two years."

Zhou Weijun shook his head, knowing his own shortcomings. It was a pity that he had been influenced by art films for too long, and his creative thinking had become fixed, making it difficult to change in a short period of time.

That's why I got a job in the new film crew through a friend. I was responsible for filming on location in various places, and I also wrote articles to record food and refresh my mind.

Chen Ling and Han Chuang had no idea about this. Even Chen Ling only had a vague understanding. The things in that circle were nothing new, just the same few things, and they didn't mean much to him.

Zhou Weijun also knew that industry matters shouldn't be discussed too much at the dinner table, as people wouldn't understand them, and talking too much would easily lead to awkward silences.

I inquired about hunting and learned that they sometimes hunt dogs at night on motorcycles. I immediately became interested and asked if it would be okay tonight, as I wanted to see how they did it.

"Sure, a little hunt is no problem. Let's go once Chuangzi sobers up a bit."

Chen Ling glanced at Han Chuang, whose face was flushed. Han Chuang was tall and strong and usually had a good alcohol tolerance, but this old Zhou was like Iron Man, with an iron stomach. When he drank, his alcohol tolerance was frighteningly high. He could really drink too much.

He called it a "literary youth syndrome," but he'd never seen such a ridiculously over-the-top case of it.

(End of this chapter)