Chapter 142: Egrets Flying Before Mount Xisai

The Huainan book signing event was an extraordinary success.

Although the organizational capacity of SDX Joint Publishing Company was somewhat limited, causing the autograph session to become quite chaotic for a while, overall it highlighted Zhang Tan's immense popularity.

*The Four Great Constables* had allowed him to make his mark, while *The Legend of the Condor Heroes* established him as the best wuxia novelist in the eyes of readers.

Especially now that *The Legend of the Condor Heroes* had been officially slated for a television adaptation.

This undoubtedly amplified Zhang Tan's popularity even further.

He had become a major celebrity.

Life had also become much more troublesome. Upon returning to his old home in Gangji Town, neighbors from all around came over to visit, simply wanting to catch a glimpse of Zhang Tan and exchange a few words with him.

Since they were all neighbors, Zhang Tan couldn't well hide from them and risk being gossiped about. Fortunately, several of his aunts were fond of chatting; they stationed themselves downstairs to block the visitors for Zhang Tan.

His family's three-story Western-style villa was usually looked after by his grandfather, Zhang Henong, because it often stood empty.

Zhang Henong spent most of his days hanging out at the town's retired cadres' activity room, playing chess and bragging with other retirees. Meanwhile, his older sister, Zhang Yan, had gone off with her classmates during the summer vacation to run a tutoring center.

Zhang Tan preferred staying alone on the third floor, far from the hustle and bustle downstairs.

"Mni (ste) le (s-style) nei (room) sa du, da ri shuo la hei."

"Xi-ao (zi) jie (s) za mie la da wu (te) la."

Playing the accordion, he softly hummed the Chinese transliterated version of *Moscow Nights*. He was very fond of such songs imbued with a thick Soviet-style romanticism. The artistic achievements of the Soviet Union during World War II were truly incalculable. As one of the world's two superpowers, it yielded not an inch to the United States, a pity only that it could not last.

Zhang Tan found that when playing and singing by oneself, the soul felt exceptionally clear.

This was a joy distinct from singing amidst a crowd.

Although he had always harbored dreams of becoming a singer and fantasized about holding a solo concert at the Beijing Workers' Stadium, the atmosphere when he sang at the Crayfish Festival had been simply too hyper. It had made Zhang Tan lose his nerve. He felt that he wasn't very adept at handling grand scenes; he was better suited to hiding behind the scenes to sing quietly, or acting like a street musician in an underpass or beneath an overpass, attracting a crowd of thirty or fifty people.

Plop.

He put down the accordion and picked up the guitar.

Zhang Tan's vocal style shifted instantly from bright to deep: "I still remember the spring of many years ago, when I hadn't yet cut my long hair, had no credit card, and no her. A home without twenty-four-hour hot water."

"Yet the me of back then was so happy, even with just a broken wooden guitar. On the street, under the bridge, in the fields, singing those neglected ballads."

Wang Banbi supported half of the Chinese pop music scene—while this statement was somewhat exaggerated, his songs were indeed very suitable for showing off.

Just as he was studying the song, he suddenly heard his eldest cousin shouting from downstairs, "Yangyang, come down! Aren't you going fishing?"

Zhang Tan hurriedly put down the guitar, grabbed the fishing gear he had prepared beforehand, and rushed downstairs. "Let's go."

When he reached the first floor, a group of aunties was still chatting away down there.

Upon seeing Zhang Tan, another round of praises followed.

"Yangyang is growing more and more handsome."

"Zhang Tan, let aunty set you up on a date. Interested?"

"Old Xu's daughter at the North Bridge National Pharmacy has grown up so pretty."

"My boy wants to write books too. Zhang Tan, you're a great writer with real talent; could you give him some guidance?"

Zhang Tan could only offer a dry laugh. "I have something to attend to. Aunties, let's talk when I get back."

With that, he hurriedly escaped his own home.

Although Zhang Henong and Zhang Yan were not home, several aunts would look after the house for him. He hopped onto his eldest cousin's motorcycle and headed straight for Wushan Town. Wushan Town had the Wei Lao Lake, where the mandarin fish had no earthy smell and tasted quite good. Zhang Tan had been wanting to go fishing there for a long time. For him, fishing was not only about the act of angling itself, but also about exploring new maps and new products.

Coincidentally, his eldest cousin worked at a transformer factory. Because the factory was performing poorly and alternated between periods of operation and shutdown, his cousin had a relatively abundant and flexible schedule.

So he could accompany Zhang Tan.

They set off for fishing in the afternoon.

By the time dusk approached, the two of them returned on the motorcycle.

Upon return, the fishing net was already filled with several flat and ugly mandarin fish. The mandarin fish at this time had just spawned and were somewhat skinny, not as plump and delicious as they were in March when the peach blossoms bloomed.

Mandarin fish were actually Chinese perch. Zhang Zhihe, a poet of the Tang Dynasty, had praised them in his poem *Fisherman's Song*: "In front of West Hill white egrets fly, peach blossoms and flowing water make mandarin fish fat. Green bamboo hat, green straw raincoat, inclined wind and fine drizzle, no need to return."

Their plump deliciousness had a long history.

An aunt was cleaning mung beans outside her door. Seeing the mandarin fish dangling from Zhang Tan's hand, she smiled and said, "Yangyang is back from fishing! Oh, look at all these mandarin fish. Your luck was good today."

Mandarin fish generally lived at the bottom of the water and were difficult to catch; the main issue was that fish in the upper layers of the water, such as black carp and silver carp, would snatch the bait, and if you weren't careful, you'd end up catching those instead.

Black and silver carp sold cheaper than chicken meat at the market and truly had no angling value.

"Aunty, my skills have improved. I caught all these mandarin fish by myself; the ones Big Brother caught are just silver carp and small bleak." Zhang Tan pointed to Zhang Qiang, who was carrying a net full of common freshwater fish.

Zhang Qiang looked quite depressed. "We fished the exact same way, but I just couldn't catch any mandarin fish. My luck is simply too bad."

"Big Brother, fishing isn't just about luck; it requires skill, too. Mandarin fish don't like to school; they generally like to find hidden spots, preferably places with flowing water, deep depth, plenty of water weeds, and rocks. Furthermore, mandarin fish strike fiercely. When we use earthworms as bait, we have to strike quickly, otherwise the mandarin fish will eat the worm and escape."

Zhang Tan had loved fishing for more than a day or two; he had studied the techniques in his past life.

In the countryside, there usually weren't any high-end fish, and most people caught mandarin fish. Mandarin fish were considerably harder to catch than the four major Chinese carps, but once you gained experience, they became quite easy to catch.

While discussing fishing techniques, they handed the mandarin fish over to the aunt.

Zhang Tan's parents were in Dayang Town, and Zhang Yan was too lazy to cook, so everyone gathered to eat at his eldest uncle's house.

His eldest uncle's family had six members: the uncle, the aunt, the eldest cousin, the eldest cousin-in-law, the second cousin, the second cousin-in-law, and an eldest cousin who was married and lived elsewhere.

By this time, Zhang Henong, Zhang Yan, and Zhang Tan had joined in, making nine people surrounding a large round table.

There were several basins of fish on the table—braised, steamed, and boiled, prepared in various styles—all of which were fish that Zhang Tan and Zhang Qiang had caught together that day.

These fish, which had been jumping around vigorously in the afternoon, became items on the dinner table by evening. The impermanence of life could be seen right here.

His aunt had previously run a restaurant. Although it went out of business, her culinary skills were exceptional.

Everyone ate the fish with loud, relishful slurps.

Sipping beer, the eldest uncle asked, "Hasn't that *Legend of the Condor Heroes* of yours started filming yet?"

"The script hasn't even been written yet. Preparations probably won't be ready until around September or October."

"It takes that long?" the aunt complained.

Zhang Tan picked a fish bone out of his teeth and said, "As far as I know, the crew hasn't even assembled their personnel yet. The production and directorial teams are scouting locations. Inner Mongolia has already been contacted; the desert scenes for *Condor* will be filmed there. As for Peach Blossom Island, they are still looking. I suggested to the crew that they look toward Zhoushan and build the exterior sets there."

The second cousin-in-law hurriedly asked, "Then how will you select the actors? Who are you planning to cast as Guo Jing and Huang Rong?"

The eldest cousin-in-law chimed in first, "I just saw in the news earlier that you're planning to spend a huge sum of money to invite actors from Hong Kong, is that true?"

"Hong Kong actors' market values are generally very low." Zhang Tan dismissed this rumor from some tabloid. "Big Beard Zhang told me he wants to invite Zhao Yanzi from the Four Dan Actresses to play Huang Rong. Although I'm not particularly fond of Zhao Yanzi's style and feel she can't quite pull off Huang Rong's cleverness, Zhao Yanzi has huge fame..."

This world also had its "Four Dan Actresses," chosen last year by *Southern Metropolis Daily* as the four post-70s female stars with the greatest fame. Among them, Zhao Yanzi had starred in the Chiung Yao drama *Returning Princess*, and the little sparrow she portrayed had swept across all of Asia, becoming a household name and a super-superstar.

She originally had great momentum to claim the title of China's top actress, but two years ago, she was involved in a feces-throwing scandal that caused severe damage to her popularity. After more than two years of laying low, the scandal had finally faded, though her once-explosive momentum had slowed slightly, and her career had experienced some ups and downs, no longer as dazzling as before.

"The little sparrow? I think that works! The little sparrow would be great as Huang Rong!" The second cousin-in-law was a die-hard fan of Zhao Yanzi.

The eldest cousin-in-law also supported the idea. "Exactly. If the little sparrow plays the role, I'm all for it."

His sister Zhang Yan also chimed in, "The little sparrow is quite good."

Zhang Tan remained noncommittal. "As for casting, I can offer opinions at most; it still depends on how Big Beard Zhang and the others choose. Besides, even if the *Condor* crew is willing to invite Zhao Yanzi, it's uncertain whether she'd even be willing to come."

"Why wouldn't she be willing? Letting her star in *Condor* is doing her a favor. If she dares not come, go dump another bucket of shit and urine on her!" the eldest cousin said quite "arrogantly."

The second cousin looked at him with disdain. "Big Brother, can you be a bit more civilized while eating?"

Although Zhang Henong didn't object to everyone chatting casually during meals, he rarely spoke while eating. After finishing half a bowl of rice, he put down his bowl and began picking his teeth before joining the conversation: "Adapting Yangyang's novel into a television series is a good thing, but we mustn't put the cart before the horse. Your priority remains the novel; writing the novel well is the key."

"I know, Grandpa."

The eldest uncle chimed in, "Dad, you've got that wrong. It's a good thing for him to participate more in television productions. Doesn't the second family always say Yangyang wants to test into an art academy? Yangyang surely has long had thoughts of leaning toward the performing arts industry. Am I right, Yangyang?"

Zhang Tan gave a thumbs-up. "Eldest Uncle has profound insight. I do indeed want to pursue behind-the-scenes work in film and television. If possible, becoming a director seems like a pretty good choice."

In his past life, Guo Xiaosi and Han Han had both transitioned from writers to directors. Zhang Tan believed that his mind full of excellent works made him tailor-made to be a director.

"A director, huh?" Zhang Henong nodded. "That's a good choice."

...

Becoming a director sounded simple, but accumulation was crucial.

Zhang Tan's focus was still primarily on writing, occasionally participating in film and television production to build up knowledge in that area. Only after he entered the Beijing Film Academy to study for a year or two would he start making films himself.

"Phew."

After taking a shower and lying in bed, Zhang Tan began pondering what to write for his next book.

Should he continue tinkering with the final installment of the Condor Trilogy, continue the stories of *The Four Great Constables*, or write a brand-new one?

What a delightfully vexing dilemma!