Entertainment: 1990

Chapter 182 A Single-Minded Person Blocks Both Ends

That evening, Zhang Yan returned to his courtyard house near the China World Trade Center.

Just as he was about to take out his key to open the door, someone suddenly jumped up from the darkness, startling Zhang Yan so much that he jumped back half a step and demanded sharply, "Who?! What are you doing here?!"

"It's me!"

The other party's attitude was even more arrogant than Zhang Yan's.

Upon hearing that nonchalant tone, Zhang Yan recognized Jiang Shan and said speechlessly, "Why are you here again? Didn't I say it wasn't convenient for you lately?"

"Isn't Chen Hong in Tianjin? What's wrong? Open the door quickly, I'm freezing!"

Zhang Yan opened the door, and Jiang Shan followed closely behind into the house. Seeing a mug on the coffee table, she picked up a thermos from the corner, filled it with hot water, and sat down on the sofa.

Zhang Yan frowned and said, "That's my cup."

"I don't mind that you're dirty!"

As if deliberately trying to annoy him, Jiang Shan spun around and covered the rim of the mug with lipstick marks.

"no……"

Zhang Yan sat down opposite her speechlessly and said, "Didn't I already say that the negatives aren't here either?"

"Let's pay it first."

Jiang Shan took a sip of water and said dismissively, "I'm about to join the crew. If I don't take this opportunity to do something, you'll be hiding in Tianjin again."

This woman is really...

Zhang Yan ignored her and simply took out the magazines he had brought back from the hospital and started flipping through them.

He didn't actually see familiar names, but rather an article that would be frequently mentioned in later generations: "A Revolution in the History of Summer Camps".

Although the title differed slightly from what Zhang Yan dreamed of, the content was the same.

In fact, there have been quite a few articles criticizing the post-80s generation in the past two years, calling them "little emperors" and "little princesses," and believing that this generation was spoiled from childhood, unable to distinguish between grains, and unable to lift heavy objects, and that they would definitely not be good when they grew up.

These are probably cultured people living in big cities. People born in the 80s in counties and below don't get these kinds of treatment.
If the above content falls into the category of disappointment and frustration, then this article, "Summer Camp," is downright distorted and disgusting.

It was from this point on that the post-80s generation gained a new nickname—the lost generation.

"What are you looking at?"

Jiang Shan felt warmer and became restless. She reached out and snatched the magazine, glanced at it, and said disdainfully, "You read children's magazines too?"

"So what? I've even written children's science fiction."

Zhang Yan shook his head and said, "But I really didn't expect that such an article that worships foreign things and distorts the facts would be published so openly in a children's magazine."

Hearing him say that, Jiang Shan quickly flipped through the article and then pouted, "What he said is right. Look how spoiled the kids are these days. My cousin's child and my little cousin are treated like little emperors at home."

When they grow up, I estimate that the gap between us and Japan will definitely widen further, and then…

Before she could finish speaking, Zhang Yan snatched the magazine away again, pointing to the very first page and saying, "Read this carefully again."

"According to the command headquarters, we should walk at least 50 kilometers, but according to the Japanese plan, we should walk 100 kilometers—look at those Japanese kids, they even volunteered to increase the distance!"

Seeing that Jiang Shan still hadn't reacted, Zhang Yan said speechlessly, "Don't even mention 20 kilograms. Why don't you carry this chair and walk back and forth on Chang'an Avenue? That's only 7 or 8 kilometers. You're asking a group of kids to carry 20 kilograms of weight and march 100 kilometers? That's pure nonsense!"

"Hey, can't people exaggerate a little when writing a story? Besides, what's it to you?"

Jiang Shan didn't take it seriously at all, and got up to urge, "Hurry up, I've been having trouble sleeping lately, moving around will help me sleep in."

"So, you're here for injections and medicine, aren't you?!"

"Don't give up on yourself, you're still a little bit stronger than a needle tip."

Who can bear this?

We have to put the meat knife in and take it out.

…………

The next morning at nine o'clock.

Jiang Shan turned a blind eye and took apart a new toothbrush. After brushing her teeth, she washed her face with Tao Hong's Dabao facial cleanser. After that, she used Chen Hong's comb to tidy her sideburns. Finally, after picking and choosing, she dried her face with Wang Luyao's towel.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she sprawled out on the sofa like she had no bones, propped her feet up on the coffee table, and lazily asked, "How many negatives are left?"

"There aren't many left."

Zhang Yan, who was writing at his desk, replied without looking up, "How about we have a farewell dinner tonight, and I'll dump everything on you tonight?"

"Humph~"

Jiang Shan snorted coldly and said nothing more. If she had been in a fit of anger in 91, she would have been eager to redeem all the negatives.

But now...

Actually, after spending more time together, she found that this kind of relationship was quite good. There was no emotional burden between them, and neither of them had to give in to the other. They could say whatever they wanted and curse whatever they wanted. Most importantly, the process was quite pleasant. Most of the pressure that Jiang Shan had accumulated at the Beijing People's Art Theatre over the past year was released through Zhang Yan—otherwise, she wouldn't have made a special trip to deliver another wave of pressure before joining the crew.

But Jiang Shan was a woman of pride, and no matter how pleased she was with this, she couldn't openly show it, so she could only remain silent.

Just then, Zhang Yan's mobile phone, which was on the table, suddenly rang. He answered it and heard Gao Qi say on the other end, "Brother Zhang, Wang Feng has arrived. When can you come over?"

"Wang Feng?!"

"The one I met at the hospital yesterday."

"Oh~"

Zhang Yan then realized that he hadn't asked the young man's name yesterday. If only he had known earlier that the young man was Wang Feng, who was on the list...

My attitude probably won't be much different. Anyway, I've already passed the initial accumulation stage, so there's no need to take future celebrities too seriously.

By the 21st century, most so-called celebrities will probably not be as famous as Zhang.

Zhang Yan replied, "I have a commentary article to write, which will probably take until after 10:30."

After watching "Summer Camp" yesterday, Zhang Yan couldn't help but want to comment, mainly because there were too many flaws in the article—especially knowing that this generation of Japanese people eventually became Heisei-era otaku.

Of course, he didn't just want to complain about this one article. In fact, in the early 90s, with the collapse of the Communist Party and the rise of the emigration trend, the trend of worshipping foreign things in the domestic literary scene was even more pronounced than in the internet age.

One minute they're criticizing the Chinese for being rigid and conservative, lacking any spirit of freedom, unlike Americans who dare to break conventions and have innovative thinking; the next minute they're praising the Japanese for being law-abiding and having an orderly society, unlike the Chinese who are free-spirited and always looking for loopholes to break the rules.

In short, it's a one-track mind that blocks both ends.

Zhang Yan is planning to compile a list of some of the more popular and outrageous remarks he has made in the past two years and put them out there for all to see—back then he was a special commentator for the newspaper, so this can be seen as him staying true to his original aspirations.

…………

the other side.

When Wang Feng learned that Zhang Yan would arrive after 10:30, he felt completely at ease—he was just afraid that Zhang Yan would take a nap and forget about him.

After thanking Gao Qi, Wang Feng came out of the house with his guitar and saw his teammates standing against the wall like silly deer watching others sing and dance.

There were about thirty or forty people gathered in the courtyard, more than half of whom were in a rock band, and there were also seven or eight young girls, all of whom were pretty and well-proportioned.

Despite the lingering chill of early spring, these girls dared to expose their navels, their enthusiasm was palpable, making the entire courtyard seem like a completely different season from outside.

Seeing Wang Feng come out, drummer Shan Xiaofan came up excitedly and said, "Damn, this whole courtyard is full of big names. We've definitely come to the right place this time!"

"Look at your potential."

Wang Feng suppressed his excitement, gave him a disdainful look, and then carefully moved closer to He Yong, who was repeatedly muttering "girl, pretty," and grinned sheepishly, saying, "Brother Yong, are you writing a new song?"

He Yong glanced up at him, but didn't recognize him. So he asked, puzzled, "Who are you? Do I know you?"

Seeing that He Yong's tone was a bit aggressive, Wang Feng panicked a little. In fact, he had met He Yong a few times before, but He Yong obviously didn't remember who he was.

"Well, I... Mr. Zhang asked me to come. I wrote a song yesterday, and Mr. Zhang thought it was pretty good, so he asked me to show off my skills to everyone."

"It's one of General Manager Zhang's men."

He Yong's attitude immediately softened considerably, and he said with a smile, "Let me see your song."

Without hesitation, Wang Feng handed over the lyrics, which he had revised several times overnight.

He Yong hummed a few lines while playing the guitar, then suddenly stood up and said, "Hey guys, calm down, this kid's new song is something else—get the hell out of the way and let him show off his voice!"

The courtyard was quiet for a moment, then someone asked, "Da Yong, what's going on? Is your little brother going to set up a fight here?"

He Yong cursed, "What the hell do you mean 'my little brother'? This is the person Boss Zhang has his eye on!"

Then, turning back, he asked, "What's your name again?"

"Wang Feng, the lead singer of No. 43 Baojia Street!"

Wang Feng quickly and loudly announced Wan'er's name.

"Isn't that the address of the Central Conservatory of Music? Damn, this kid's pretty arrogant."

"Isn't Wu Tong representing the Central Conservatory of Music?"

"Why do you care so much? The person that President Zhang has his eye on can't be bad."

Although some people were dissatisfied, they still cleared out the space in the middle for Zhang Yan's sake. Several girls who were learning to dance even volunteered to be backup dancers for No. 43 Baojia Street.

As they walked toward the middle, Wang Feng and his friends felt their blood boiling.

Everyone here is a prominent figure in the industry. For No. 43 Baojia Street to appear on stage here might just become part of the industry's legend in the future.

No wonder Wu Tong always refers to him as "Brother Zhang"; that reputation is truly effective!

(End of this chapter)