Huayu: Starting from joining the mainstream entertainment industry in 96

Chapter 334, Section 332: My 2000
January 22, 2001, the 1th day of the twelfth lunar month.

There are less than sixteen hours left until the eve of the Lunar New Year of the Snake.

The festive atmosphere in Beijing grew stronger amidst the sporadic sounds of firecrackers and the red lanterns hanging in the streets and alleys.

The air was filled with a relaxed feeling, a mix of anticipation and leisure, unique to the period leading up to the holiday.

The cold wind still blows, but it seems to have been somewhat dispelled by the growing festive atmosphere of the New Year.

Wang Sheng's unassuming black sedan slowly drove into the familiar yet somewhat unfamiliar living area of ​​the Beijing Film Studio.

Compared to the modernity and hustle and bustle of the CBD area where the Jingxin Building is located, time seems to flow much slower here.

The mottled walls, the old locust tree with its branches and leaves all gone, and those iconic Soviet-style tenement buildings all silently tell the story of bygone years.

The car came to a stop downstairs in front of the family building.

Wang Sheng pushed open the car door and got out, pulling his black down jacket tighter around himself and exhaling a puff of white breath.

He looked up at his familiar window, where a few pots of hardy holly seemed to still be placed on the windowsill, adding a touch of stubborn green against the gray sky.

I had only taken a few steps up the stairs when the door was opened from the inside.

Clearly, the mother, Ms. Zhang Xiulan, had been listening to the commotion downstairs.

"You're back? It must be cold outside, come inside and warm up!" Zhang Xiulan was wearing an apron, her hands still covered in flour, her face flushed with undisguised joy and the rosy glow of her busy work.

Wang Sheng smiled and responded, then stepped inside.

The warm air, filled with the aroma of stewed meat and flour, instantly enveloped him—the scent of home.

He had just changed into his slippers in the entryway when a dark figure darted out from the inner room, moving swiftly but not recklessly.

It's a sweet potato.

After nearly three years of growth, Sweet Potato is no longer the little fluffy ball that could be easily held in the palm of your hand.

The Tussock Dog is a medium-sized dog, and its adult body is well-proportioned and sturdy.

At this moment, Digua was already taller than Wang Sheng's knees when standing. Its thick, black fur was glossy and smooth, with only a few brownish-yellow spots on its chest and the ends of its four paws. It really looked like a miniature black bear.

Its eyes were gentle yet alert, carrying the loyalty unique to dogs and a hint of scrutiny towards its long-absent owner.

It didn't pounce on him immediately, but instead slowly circled Wang Sheng twice, its wet nose carefully sniffing his trousers and hands, as if trying to confirm the familiar yet somewhat unfamiliar scent.

Seeing its cautious yet undeniably affectionate demeanor, Wang Sheng's playful side was aroused. He bent down, grabbed its sturdy forelegs, and half-lifted it, weighing it in his arms: "Goodness, Sweet Potato, you've really gotten heavier! You're almost a real bear spirit!"

The sweet potato was scooped up by him, and it didn't struggle. It just stuck out its tongue and panted, its tail wagging like a propeller, sweeping against Wang Sheng's legs with soft slapping sounds.

Those dark, bright eyes were filled with the joy of reunion.

Wang Sheng teased it for a while, rubbing its fluffy head and feeling the warmth and dependence from his palm.

Sweet Potato squinted comfortably and rubbed her head against his palm.

Just then, Zhang Xiulan wiped her hands on her apron and said, "By the way, Xiao Sheng, Xiao Pang called from the front."

Wang Sheng continued petting the dog without looking up: "Hmm, what did she say?"

She said she'll come over to our house tomorrow night after the Spring Festival Gala broadcast to wish you, your dad, and me a Happy New Year.

Zhang Xiulan's tone carried a hint of affection for the younger generation, "This child is so thoughtful. Even during the Spring Festival, after finishing her performance, she still remembered to come over."

Fan Xiaopang became a sensation across Asia with "My Sassy Girl," and his net worth and fame are now vastly different from what they used to be. It's only natural that he was able to appear on the CCTV Spring Festival Gala stage.

In 99, when "A Little Thing Called First Love" became a huge hit, Gao Yuanyuan also received an invitation to the 2000 CCTV Spring Festival Gala, but she declined, saying she was too lazy to go.

What, a ban?

You and I are one of only three signed artists in the artist management department of Shengying Media. Are you talking about being blacklisted?

Wang Sheng seemed unsurprised, saying calmly, "Let her come. We'll just prepare an extra set of bowls and chopsticks tomorrow."

Zhang Xiulan hesitated, then continued, "After the New Year, you'll be twenty-four..."

"Yes, yes, don't worry. We can have as many grandchildren as we want, enough to form a kindergarten. You can be the kindergarten principal then," Wang Sheng said jokingly.

"We can't force you. Never mind, figure it out yourself." Zhang Xiulan turned and went back to the kitchen.

Wang Sheng patted Digua's head: "Come on, Digua, let me take you out for some fresh air."

Find the leash, and Sweet Potato immediately spins around excitedly.

Wang Sheng put the harness on it and led it out of the house. The Beijing Film Studio residential area was much quieter than he remembered.

The once crowded and noisy corridors of the tenement building are now filled with dusty clutter at many entrances, indicating that no one has lived there for a long time.

Fewer children were playing in the courtyard; only a few elderly people sat under the sunlit wall, leisurely basking in the sun and chatting.

Many children of Beijing Film Studio employees, after working hard to earn money, bought new apartments in various parts of Beijing and moved away from the old residential area that held their childhood and youth memories.

It seems that not everyone has such a strong attachment to their old home; a new life is always more appealing.

Wang Sheng led Digua along the familiar yet empty road.

Sweet Potato was clearly very familiar with the environment, sniffing around corners and tree roots from time to time, leaving its mark.

It would occasionally look back at Wang Sheng to make sure its master was following behind.

Wang Sheng walked to the foot of those most representative tenement buildings and stopped.

The red brick exterior walls have become mottled from the erosion of time and weather, the exposed water pipes are wrapped in thick insulation material, and the styles installed on the balconies and windows of each household are different, making it look somewhat messy.

The open space in front of the building, which used to be a place where children chased and played, and where adults gathered to play chess and chat after get off work, is now much quieter.

He stood quietly for a while, his gaze sweeping over the familiar windows.

Behind some windows, there may still be elderly people who cherish the past, or residents who are temporarily unable to move out.

But behind most of the windows, the buildings are now empty.

Times are changing, and life is moving forward.

This once vibrant residential area is inevitably becoming quiet, like an old man entering his twilight years.

"Wang Sheng? Is Wang Sheng back?" An old but loud voice interrupted his thoughts.

Wang Sheng turned his head and saw an old man with gray hair, wearing an old military overcoat, walking out of the doorway next to him, carrying a birdcage in his hand.

"Uncle Qin, you're still so healthy!" Wang Sheng greeted him with a smile.

"Handsome, very strong! Thanks to you guys!" Grandpa Qin walked over with a smile, looked at Wang Sheng, and then at the imposing Digua at his feet. "This dog is really good."

He then remarked with emotion, "Now our area has produced a big celebrity! When the neighbors talk about it, they all say they lived in the same courtyard as Wang Sheng, and they're all very proud of it! It's just that... most of the people have moved away, and it's not as lively as it used to be."

Wang Sheng smiled and nodded, handing over a pack of cigarettes and lighting one for Grandpa Qin: "Yes, everyone is moving to better places, which is a good thing."

He then encountered several old neighbors who hadn't moved away. Wang Sheng stopped to greet them politely and chatted with them about everyday matters.

Everyone spoke with admiration and gratitude for him, as many of their children had found good jobs in the Sheng Ying Group or related industries.

But one can also sense the faint loneliness permeating the residential area, brought about by the loss of people.

Holding the sweet potato, Wang Sheng strolled around the residential area again.

The once brightly lit and bustling staff club is now closed.

Only a lonely basketball hoop remained on the basketball court; cracks appeared in the concrete surface, and a few clumps of withered grass stubbornly grew out of them.

Only the old locust tree, which is said to have existed since the factory was built, still stands with its gnarled branches, silently guarding everything here.

Sweet Potato seemed to sense the change in its owner's mood, and quietly followed beside him, no longer sniffing around aimlessly.

The afterglow of the setting sun dyed the sky a warm orange-red, casting a nostalgic glow on this somewhat desolate residential area.

Wang Sheng stood beside the small garden in the center of the residential area, looking around at everything.

It ended completely in 2000.

For him personally, this was a year in which he became the "director with a net worth of 100 million yuan", his company's revenue exceeded 1 billion yuan, and his business empire expanded rapidly.

For this residential area and for many children of Beijing Film Studio employees, this was also a turning point in history.

They left this place, venturing into a wider world, changing their own destinies, and gradually turning this old place into a backdrop in their memories.

As the wheels of change turn, some rush towards the future, while others remain in the past.

And "home," whether new or old, bustling or quiet, is always the softest and most worthwhile corner in our hearts to return to at the end of the year.

"Let's go, sweet potato, let's go home." Wang Sheng gently tugged on the leash.

Sweet Potato let out a "woof" and obediently followed his steps.

(End of this chapter)