Chapter 0716: The Returning Man

Sitting in the plane, looking out the cabin window, large clusters of clouds scattered across the sky, calm as an endless sea. At first glance, it might seem captivating, but after staring for an hour or two, no matter how beautiful the scenery, it loses its appeal.

That was how Zhao Fusheng felt. After gazing at the clouds outside for most of the day, he simply withdrew his gaze.

In those days, flying was still a luxury. No one would casually spend over a thousand yuan on a plane ticket. Many would rather spend two days and one night on a train than sit in a plane for a few hours. The seat next to Zhao Fusheng was empty, so he propped his chin on his hand and idly flipped through the in-flight magazine.

"What a bore..."

After a long while, Zhao Fusheng closed the magazine, lifted his head to glance out the window, and heard the flight attendant's crisp voice: "Passengers, please fasten your seatbelts. We are about to land at Beijing Capital International Airport..."

Half an hour later, the plane was still taxiing on the runway, searching for a parking spot.

Zhao Fusheng couldn't be bothered to complain. He turned on his phone, sent his mother a text confirming his safe arrival, and then dialed Jiang Wen's number.

"I've arrived."

"Where?"

"Still looking for a parking spot. Just wait for me at the exit."

The brief conversation ended. As he put down the phone, Zhao Fusheng noticed that the plane had finally found its parking spot.

Following the crowd off the plane and through security, he reached the exit. From a distance, he saw a man standing there holding a large sign with his name on it.

Shaking his head helplessly, Zhao Fusheng walked over to the man.

"Let's go."

Standing before the man, Zhao Fusheng said.

"Are you Zhao Fusheng?" The man, about twenty years old with a youthful face, looked like a fresh college graduate.

"Yeah. Where's Old Jiang?" Zhao Fusheng nodded and asked in return. If he wasn't mistaken, this should be Jiang Wen's assistant.

"Ah, Teacher Jiang is in the car." The assistant paused for a moment, then nodded in reply.

To be honest, Zhao Fusheng's age surprised him. He had expected a middle-aged man in his thirties or forties, but instead, the man looked even younger than himself.

Unaware that his image had shifted in the new assistant's mind, Zhao Fusheng followed the assistant to the airport exit.

Getting into the car, Zhao Fusheng said to Jiang Wen, who was wearing sunglasses, "You're still wearing sunglasses in the car? Afraid someone might recognize you?"

"Hey, this is called fashion," Jiang Wen said with a smirk.

"Heh..." Zhao Fusheng didn't argue, just let out a cold laugh that infuriated Jiang Wen.

"Where's my sister?"

As the car slowly started, Zhao Fusheng asked Jiang Wen.

Yu Feihong had said she would come to pick him up today, but she hadn't shown up. Naturally, he was curious.

That sister was not one to break her word. Unless something unavoidable came up, she would never stand him up.

"She has a meeting to attend," Jiang Wen shrugged. "Lately, she's been involved in some charity project, planning to build a hundred Hope Schools in Sichuan within three years. She's been busy fundraising everywhere."

Zhao Fusheng smiled and nodded, saying nothing more.

That was typical of Yu Feihong, perfectly in line with her character.

"I'll take you home first, and then..." Jiang Wen said to Zhao Fusheng. He had come specifically to pick him up; other arrangements could wait until Zhao Fusheng was settled.

"Brother, I just got back. I need to spend some time with my girlfriend, don't I?" Zhao Fusheng said helplessly. "How about this: drop me off at home, then go about your business. If I have time tonight, I'll call you. If not, we'll catch up another day. Deal?"

If it were anyone else, Zhao Fusheng would have been more polite. But with Jiang Wen, he couldn't be bothered. The guy's temper was such that the more formal you were with him, the more displeased he became.

To be fair, this was the kind of conversation Jiang Wen preferred.

Some say a person dies three times in life: the first time when their breathing stops and brain waves disappear; the second when their household registration is canceled, marking the complete end of their social relationships; and the last when they are completely forgotten, leaving no trace in the world.

Zhao Fusheng and Jiang Wen were the same kind of people—they didn't want to leave nothing behind after death, to be quickly forgotten by the world.

That's why these two became friends.

"The movie's box office is almost at thirty-five million," Jiang Wen suddenly said from inside the car.

Zhao Fusheng nodded calmly, seemingly unfazed, and said nonchalantly, "Looks like it might reach forty million."

Jiang Wen smiled. "Pretty much. The Wang brothers are over the moon, saying they want to thank you."

After all, the script was written by Zhao Fusheng, and he had asked Ye Jing to bring them in as investors. Now that they were raking in money, the Wang brothers were naturally overjoyed.

A businessman's goal is to make money. Whoever brings them profit becomes their honored guest.

This principle holds true in the film industry as well as in any other circle.

So Zhao Fusheng didn't take Jiang Wen's words to heart. Old Jiang probably understood his attitude, so he mentioned it once and dropped the subject. He was just a messenger; now that the message had been delivered, his task was done.

Zhao Fusheng understood Jiang Wen's approach. After all, he still had to cooperate with Huayi, unlike Zhao Fusheng, who had no burdens.

A person who knows how to adapt is always better than one who refuses to change until they hit a wall. At the very least, he didn't have to worry that if Jiang Wen made a mistake one day, he wouldn't listen to his advice.

The car slowly drove along the street. Zhao Fusheng felt that the city had changed somewhat since he left before the New Year.

"I don't know why, but every time I come to Beijing, I feel there's something new to surprise me," Zhao Fusheng suddenly said to Jiang Wen.

Jiang Wen was taken aback and gave Zhao Fusheng a strange look. In his memory, Zhao Fusheng was not the kind of sentimental literary youth who would be melancholy for no reason.

"Kid, are you scheming something again?" Jiang Wen asked Zhao Fusheng.

Zhao Fusheng shook his head. "No, I really mean it."

He couldn't tell Jiang Wen that in ten years, this city would become bigger, more prosperous, and more crowded. And likewise, there would be many shattered dreams.