Chapter 26: Wind and Cloud

At dinner that evening, Zheng Fei discussed things with Xiao Yun’s father. Their reason for wanting to return home was simple: their earnings were dwindling.

They had originally worked for a neighborhood production brigade, but as more and more unemployed youths returned to the city that year, many who could not get into factories were assigned to the production brigades. With too many monks and too little gruel, even they were affected. In recent months, the wages they brought home were so meager that after deducting rent and daily expenses, there was simply nothing left to save.

Zheng Fei said, "It might be tough at this stage, but as long as you persevere, your future development here will definitely be better than in the countryside. It’s better for Xiao Yun, too." After all, no matter how poor the school in Tanzhiwan was, it was still better than many of the primary schools in the countryside at the moment.

Hong Laisheng was silent for a moment before saying, "I’ll think about it."

Having spent so many years together, they were quite familiar with one another, and Zheng Fei knew clearly that he hadn't moved Brother Hong. He could only respect his personal fate, but having spent so many years together, Zheng Fei still felt quite grateful to this family. If they ever truly ran into trouble in the future, he would certainly help them.

...

After Zheng Fei and Zhu Xiaotao returned to Tanzhiwan, they played the victim to everyone they met, claiming that they had spent the last four months painting murals for others, not only failing to make any money but actually losing a substantial sum.

Zhu Xiaotao, in particular, gave a vivid and dramatic performance, even going so far as to complain about Zheng Fei. The reason for their behavior was simple: they were afraid of being targeted by "malicious busybodies" who might report them and slap them with labels again. In this day and age, you could make money, but you had to keep a low profile, or there would be plenty of jealous people.

The people of Tanzhiwan were all smiles upon hearing that Zheng Fei hadn't made any money, and they greeted him with great enthusiasm. People were just like that—if you suddenly struck it rich, those around you would find it hard to accept.

However, Zhao Dagang from Panjiawan, upon hearing this, wore an expression of utter disdain: "That little brat has never spoken a word of truth in his life."

Ever since he had been pushed into the water by his apprentice, he had fallen ill upon returning home. He had even spent several days in the hospital, and now he coughed at the slightest provocation. The doctor said he had inhaled something foul while choking on the water, but his family assumed it was tuberculosis, and no one dared to care for him for fear of contagion.

He had worked hard his whole life to earn money for his family, yet he ended up in a state where he had to take care of himself while sick. Zhao Dagang couldn't help but sigh, "It’s all retribution."

...

In Tanzhiwan, inside that ten-square-meter "mansion," three young men gathered around a table laid out with several bottles of beer, peanuts, and melon seeds.

Zheng Fei first returned the twenty-five yuan that Qiusheng had invested, then took out twelve ten-yuan bills. "This is the profit share I promised, after deducting all expenses."

Qiusheng could not believe his eyes. "Isn't it only ten percent? How could there be this much money?"

Zhu Xiaotao said, "You weren't there, so you don't know how amazing Brother Fei is. Many people were fighting for the chance to have him paint murals for them."

Wang Qiusheng scratched his head. "Now, among the three of us, I’m the most useless."

Zhu Xiaotao pulled a long face. "Brother Fei, there are so many people still wanting us to paint murals; are you really not planning on doing it anymore?"

Zheng Fei nodded. Initially, it was out of necessity that he had planned to earn some money through murals. At first, he only intended to take on one or two jobs, but he had stayed on Chongming Island to earn more money for his two brothers. As a man reborn, spending time on murals was a bit of a waste, after all, fame should be sought while one is young. During the time he was painting murals, the Jade Dynasty in Hong Kong had already launched the comic *Oriental Heroes*.

Qiusheng asked, "Brother Fei, if you’re not doing this line of work, what do you plan to do next?"

"I might go into comics."

Zhu Xiaotao, hearing the term for the first time, was bewildered. "What’s a comic?"

"It’s similar to a picture-story book." After saying this, Zheng Fei took a comic book titled *Oriental Heroes* out of his drawer. He had managed to find this imported good from Hong Kong on the black market after much effort over the last two days.

The creator of this book, Wong Yuk-long, could be considered a godfather in the Hong Kong comic industry. His *Oriental Heroes* had started serialization in 1970; after thirty years, he had even launched a *New Oriental Heroes* in the millennium. He wondered if this comic had finished by the time he had arrived in this world.

...

When the two saw *Oriental Heroes*, their eyes seemed to be glued to it. Previously, the most they had seen were small picture books; they had never seen such brilliant, colored comics. The exaggerated muscle lines and the cool fighting moves instantly captivated them.

Zhu Xiaotao, holding *Oriental Heroes*, felt his hands trembling. "Brother Fei, you don't mean you intend to draw this kind of comic, do you?"

"Yes," Zheng Fei nodded.

Zhu Xiaotao’s brain crashed, but after a brief reboot, he recalled the murals Zheng Fei had painted and felt that his brother truly had the talent for it. "Brother Fei, can I help?"

Zheng Fei did indeed want a comic assistant, but he had already tested Taotao and knew he had no talent for drawing. Even a simple line took him a long time to learn, and a comic assistant needed a wide range of skills to avoid being a burden. Zheng Fei refused on the spot: "If I’m going to find an assistant, I’ll find a female comrade, not you."

Zhu Xiaotao was deeply discouraged.

"Then I can only go back and continue moving bricks with my dad."

Zheng Fei thought for a moment, looked at the melon seeds and peanuts on the table, and suddenly pointed them toward a promising path. "I think you could try setting up a street stall. Selling melon seeds is a great idea—five cents for a small cup, and many kids really love them." If he remembered correctly, a certain tycoon had earned his first pot of gold by selling melon seeds.

Zhu Xiaotao said, "If I set up a stall, my dad will break my legs, and my mom certainly won't cook for me."

Zheng Fei rolled his eyes at him. "If you're afraid of everything, how will you ever make money? Besides, the ways to make money in China are all written in..."

Just then, the introverted Qiusheng suddenly said, "Brother Fei, I want to try."

"Don't you have to help your dad with the manure cart?"

Qiusheng said with sudden seriousness, "If I continue pulling that cart, my life will likely be ruined, and I can forget about finding a wife."

Zheng Fei truly hadn't expected that among the three, the one with the most courage would be the quietest one, Qiusheng. "It will be difficult at first, but I hope you can persist."

Seeing Qiusheng’s determination, Zhu Xiaotao gritted his teeth. "Damn it, I’ll give it a shot too! The worst that happens is I don't go home. Brother Fei, can I sleep with you from now on?"

"Get lost."

Following that, the three raised their Shanghai beers and clinked them together: "To the future, cheers!"

The three of them chugged their beers, but because they had been so poor previously, they had almost never drunk beer. Zhu Xiaotao and Qiusheng found the beer bitter and truly difficult to drink, with an indescribable taste. It really wasn't as good as the one-cent cup of ice water from the grocery store at the corner. However, with the price of thirty cents a bottle, they gritted their teeth and finished it anyway.

As a result, after just one bottle, Qiusheng’s face was already flushed, and Taotao began to ramble incoherently. Looking at them, Zheng Fei was a bit puzzled; could it be that the alcohol content in beer was higher back then?

The two slung their arms over each other's shoulders and went to the Suzhou Creek to relieve themselves together, two streams of water splashing onto a black-awning boat. Immediately, the boat captain’s cursing followed: "Little brats! Don't let me catch you, or I'll beat you to death!"

...

Back in the room, Zheng Fei had already begun planning his comic. After thinking it over, works like *The Degenerate* or *Under One Person* were far too ahead of their time for the current era. In this age of "communist successors," a comic like *The Degenerate* would almost certainly never pass censorship.

Zheng Fei looked at *Oriental Heroes* on the table and suddenly remembered a movie he had seen in his youth:

"The golden scale is no creature of the pond; upon meeting the wind and clouds, it shall transform into a dragon."