Against the Current Hong Kong 1979

As soon as Chung Chu-hung and Zhang Shuai-an entered the room, the conversation in the living room stopped.

Zhang Shuai'an quickly glanced at the situation in the living room.

Five people were sitting in the living room. Chung Chu-hung's parents had been passing by her in the hallway from time to time lately; they were both very kind middle-aged people.

Besides them, the other three are naturally the Kwong family.

Mr. Kwong looked to be in his fifties, overweight, and balding. He was dressed in a well-tailored suit and wore a gold watch on his wrist, a typical small business owner.

His wife was adorned with jewels, wearing a gold necklace and a jade ring on her finger.

Their son looked to be in his mid-twenties, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, a white shirt, and trousers, and had a refined and scholarly appearance.

"This is my boyfriend, Zhang Shuai'an." Chung Chu-hung naturally took Zhang Shuai'an's arm and introduced him generously.

Zhang Shuai'an felt that Chung Chu-hung's hand was trembling slightly, so he chuckled and patted her arm, signaling her to let go first.

"Uncle, Aunt, hello."

Zhang Shuai'an greeted Zhong's parents very politely: "I'm sorry, I've been keeping this from you."

"Hello, please have a seat." Mr. and Mrs. Zhong exchanged a glance, their eyes showing a mixture of surprise and understanding.

Living in the same building, they knew a little about Zhang Shuai'an's background. Their daughter had also mentioned that Zhang Shuai'an had helped her a lot once, but they never expected that they would actually be dating.

"This is my father's old friend, surnamed Kwong." Chung Chu-hung then pointed to Mr. Kwong's family and introduced them to Zhang Shuai-an: "The people next to him are his wife and son."

Zhang Shuai'an was very polite, smiling as he said, "Oh, Mr. Kuang, Mrs. Kuang, and this young Mr. Kuang, hello."

Boss Kuang looked Zhang Shuai'an up and down, his brows furrowing slightly. "Mr. Zhang, right? How old are you, and what do you do for a living?"

Zhang Shuai'an answered quite honestly: "I am 19 years old this year and I haven't found a job yet."

Chung Chu-hung couldn't help but lightly tap him, clearly hoping he could give a better answer and leave a good impression on her parents.

Mrs. Kwong's question was much more direct: "If you don't work, you have no income. How will you support yourself?"

These words hit the nail on the head; they were essentially telling Mr. and Mrs. Zhong that Zhang Shuai'an was an unreliable person.

Before Zhang Shuai'an could answer, Mrs. Kuang began boasting to her son: "Our Zhihao has just graduated from university, but he's already been accepted by the *Red and Green Daily*. He'll officially become a reporter next month, with a starting salary of two thousand eight. He has a bright future ahead of him, more than enough to be a match for your daughter. What are you still considering? You can't really be interested in this loser, can you?"

As she spoke, she smiled at Zhang Shuai'an again: "Handsome guy, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to discriminate against you."

Mr. and Mrs. Chung looked slightly embarrassed; Mrs. Kuang's words were rather aggressive.

Zhang Shuai'an's expression remained largely unchanged as he smiled and said, "It's not that I have no income. I've been writing articles lately and have earned some royalties, which is enough for my living expenses."

"What writing? Stop fooling yourself. We've all been there."

Boss Kuang shook his head and criticized Zhang Shuai'an, "Young people should find stable jobs. Otherwise, what's the difference between them and the thugs on the street?"

Then, he looked at Mr. Zhong, his expression earnest: "Mr. Zhong, we've known each other for many years. And let me tell you something, my son is a journalist. Isn't that great? It's respectable and has a bright future. He might even become an editor-in-chief someday. Your daughter will definitely enjoy a life of luxury with him."

Mr. Zhong chuckled twice and quickly said, "Our daughter is still young, there's no rush to talk about marriage. Besides, I never interfere in these matters; she can decide for herself."

"How can that be!" Mrs. Kuang frowned upon hearing this. "What can a girl do? Your daughter hasn't gone to university. If she doesn't get married soon, how will she secure her future? I never approved of her going to beauty pageants. It's so improper for a girl to show her face in public; it's a disgrace to the family. Getting married early and staying home to be a good wife and mother is the proper way to live."

Chung Chor-hung couldn't take it anymore and felt it necessary to state her position: "Mrs. Kwong, my family may be poor, but we're not without ambition. I have my own life plans, and it's my freedom to like whomever I want to marry. On-jai doesn't have a stable job right now, but I like him, and I'm willing to give him time. I believe he will definitely succeed in the future."

"Young girls are easily fooled by handsome guys."

Mrs. Kwong shook her head, looking unconvinced, and said to her son, "Zhihao, why don't you leave your contact information with this Mr. Zhang? If Mr. Zhang writes any articles in the future, you can take a look and maybe recommend them to him."

The condescending tone in those words was so obvious that even Zhong's usually calm mother couldn't help but frown.

Young Master Kuang took it seriously, took out a pen and a notepad from his pocket, and wrote down a number: "Mr. Zhang, this is my phone number. You can contact me if you need anything."

Zhang Shuai'an accepted the note and said politely, "Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Kuang. Let me also give you my contact information. If your newspaper ever offers high prices for articles, you can contact me."

As he spoke, he reached into his pocket; he habitually carried a pen with him when he went out.

Unexpectedly, the movement was a bit too forceful, and a folded piece of paper slipped out of the pocket and fell to the ground.

"Oh dear, I dropped something." Chung Chor-hung bent down to pick it up, unfolded it, and suddenly froze.

"What's wrong?" Mr. Zhong asked, somewhat puzzled.

Chung Chor-hung looked up, her eyes wide: "This...this is...a payment check from Ming Pao?"

She spoke softly, but everyone in the living room heard her.

When Kwong heard the name Ming Pao, his expression changed instantly.

"What cheque?" Mr. Kwong hadn't reacted yet. "Ming Pao? Which Ming Pao?"

Kuang Dashao's voice was a little hoarse as he said softly, "Dad, Ming Pao is... the newspaper that Mr. Jin Yong founded."

"Jin Yong?" Mr. and Mrs. Kuang exchanged a glance, both seeing the surprise in each other's eyes.

In Hong Kong, you might not know who the Governor of Hong Kong is, but it's impossible not to know Jin Yong. Although Ming Pao doesn't have the largest circulation, it enjoys a high reputation among intellectuals and the middle class for its serious current affairs commentary and high-quality literary works.

Chung Chu-hung handed the check to Cheung Shuai-an, her voice filled with excitement: "One thousand dollars! Ming Pao gave you a one thousand dollar payment for your article? You got the article?"

Zhang Shuai calmly folded the book and put it back in his pocket, saying casually, "Yes, Ming Pao accepted one of my novels. Mr. Jin Yong had the editor advance me the royalties."

A brief silence fell over the living room.

The Red and Green Daily was just a second-rate tabloid. Although its sales were not low, it was far inferior to a behemoth like Ming Pao.

Mr. Kuang's expression changed several times before he finally forced a smile and said, "A thousand dollars... isn't that much. My son, Ah Ming, also writes articles for the newspaper, and all in all, he's earned tens of thousands of dollars in royalties."

That's a bit of a stretch. Anyone with common sense knows that publishing an article in Ming Pao and publishing an article in a regular tabloid are two completely different things.

Mrs. Kwong quickly chimed in, "Besides, Ah Ming has connections with Shaw Brothers. His college classmate's cousin works as a producer there. Who knows, Ah Ming might become a great screenwriter like Ni Kuang in the future! That would truly be a limitless future."

Ni Kuang is a famous Hong Kong writer and screenwriter with numerous works and a great reputation. Mrs. Kuang's mention of him at this time is clearly an attempt to regain some ground.

Just as Chung Chor-hung was about to retort, there was a knock on the door.

"Who could it be at this time?" Mrs. Chung got up to open the door.

As soon as the door opened, three people were standing outside.

He Jiatong was in front, holding his waist with a pained expression on his face;

Standing on the left is Uncle Li from upstairs, who is also He Jiatong's uncle;

There was also a strange, chubby man, probably around twenty-four or twenty-five years old, with a round face and small eyes, wearing a white shirt and carrying a briefcase.

Chung Chu-hung was stunned and asked, "Uncle Li? Jia-tong? What's going on here...?"

"Is Anzai at your house?" Li Shuisheng couldn't help but ask. "We've come to see him; it's very urgent."

Chung Chor-hung quickly opened the door: "He's here."

The three of them entered the living room, making the already small space feel even more cramped.

The fat man's gaze swept around the room, finally settling on Zhang Shuai'an. His eyes lit up: "You must be Mr. Zhang Shuai'an, right? You are indeed indescribably handsome. Your friend and uncle were not lying."

"Yes, it's me." Zhang Shuai'an stood up. When he saw the face of the person who came, he knew who it was. The future "King of Bad Movies in Hong Kong", also the "King of Box Office", and even the "Classic Hong Kong Film Maker", known as Fat Mantis Wang Jing.

"My name is Wong Jing, a screenwriter for Shaw Brothers Studio."

Fatty Wang took out a business card and handed it over with both hands, saying, "I apologize for visiting, but I have important matters to discuss with you."

"Shaw Brothers? Screenwriter?" Everyone in the living room was taken aback.

Young Master Kwong's eyes widened in disbelief. His mother had just been boasting about her connections with Shaw Brothers, and now, in the blink of an eye, a Shaw Brothers screenwriter had come knocking on his door, specifically to this "egghead" whom he looked down upon.

Zhang Shuai'an took the business card and glanced at it; it indeed bore the logo of Shaw Brothers Studio. He was even more puzzled: "Mr. Wang, what can I do for you?"

"It's like this," Fatty Wang said with a smile, rubbing his hands together. "Uncle Shao saw your story, 'Young Detective Bao Qingtian,' and he really liked it. He plans to buy it and adapt it into a TV series. That's why he sent me to you to discuss the copyright and adaptation details."

These words exploded like a bomb in the living room.

Chung Chor-hung covered her mouth in surprise.

Mr. and Mrs. Zhong looked at each other, their eyes filled with disbelief.

The Kwong family, on the other hand, had ashen faces, especially the eldest son of the Kwong family, whose face turned red and white in turns, making for quite a spectacle.